(On Arlene Davila's Barrio Dreams Introduction, chapters 1-3, and Conclusion)
I had the privilege to take a seminar taught by Professor Davila with less than ten other students. Barrio Dreams was one of many readings that illustrated and explained the spatial organization of Latino/as. We went over complicated nature of the particular 'ethnic group' in America due to its diversity. Although people view them all as belonging to one group, they separate themselves and relate more to those from the same country and/or place. Thus there are tension between, say, Puerto Ricans and Mexicans that are not addressed. This difference in affiliation and alliance brings in politics into the picture, which naturally involves power struggle. As a result, the spatial manifestation and commodified culture of Latino/as are the result of deliberate processes of gentrification and marginalization. Davila attempts to provide an insider's insight with knowledge and understanding that one can only have as a Latina.
As its title suggests, chapter one was about housing and the claim over East Harlem. We've been going over residential segregation and homeownership so housing didn't interest me as much as it did last year. It was, however, nice to add on information that I have learned since the last time I read the chapter. I was able to apply the knowledge that urban renewal, such as that by Robert Moses, and gentrification is the processes that allow "white yuppies" take over Manhattan and Spanish Harlem. Chapters two started making connections between culture and place, connections that were focused upon more in chapter three, in which Davila argued that culture is commodified to represent and sell space. Before the process of gentrification, before the development of "cultural industries and entertainment infrastructure, Upper Manhattan communities (comprising Washington Heights and West, Central, and East Harlem were left with marketing their culture and the ethnic and historical identification of their neighborhoods" (99). The resultant commodified Latino culture and "embracing these institutions came at a cost. Not only did they ease the path for new developments in the area, but they also fed into the dominant alternative multicultural history for East Harlem" (106). Davila ends the chapter discussing the opportunities and perils provided by tourism. Tourism and "tourist enthusiasts found themselves supporting projects implicated in the area's gentrification" and led to Edison project and the Museum for African Art.
Davila leaves "some final words" ending the book on a hopeful note that we will sooner or later be able to see contradictions that will guide "us toward more appropriate and equitable urban and cultural policies" (214).
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Week 7: Multiracial Spaces and the Politics of Solidarity
(On Yamamoto's "A Fire in Fontana"
and Hong's "'Something forgotten which should have been remembered':
Private property and cross-racial solidarity in the work of Hisaye Yamamoto")
Yamamoto begins the account of his experience after the World War II with stating that "some kind of transformation" with lasting effects took place. He admits that it would be too much for him to say that he, "a Japanese American, became Black." The fact that he even begins his story with such a comparison between Japanese American and Black clearly points out the racial formation of those two races in relation to White, perhaps in the form of Kim's triangulization. It was interesting to note that Japanese Americans would further categorize themselves. When describing the event of getting his new job, he keeps comparing himself to a "Nisei." I learned from last year's World Cultures: Asian Pacific American that Japanese Americans group themselves according to, among other things, the degree of being Americanized. The word itself means second generation, but it represents how much of the Japanese culture they preserve. Third generations are called Sansei. Yamamoto continues to tell the readers about his re-integration into society as he goes to school and what not. At the end of the story, during which he depicts the moment he watches the Watts riot on television, Yamamoto says that he was "inwardly cowering" but "felt something else, a trickle of warmth of which he finally recognized as an undercurrent of exultation" (157). The riot "was the long-awaited, gratifying next chapter of an old movie that had flickered about in the black of his mind for years" (157).
Hong's analysis of Yamamoto's work particularly focused on, as it is evident in her title, private property and cross-racial solidarity. After opening her paper with a story, she states that "A Fire in Fontana" can "be read as a commentary on the relation between race and property" (292). According to Hong, Yamamoto "points to a basis for cross-racial solidarity by showing a relational connection," but "to say that African Americans and Japanese Americans have a common history is false" because "the U.S. nation-state creates and reproduces differences in the experiences of African Americans and Japanese Americans through the different ways in which these groups have been denied property rights" (292). Hong then continues to give specific exmaples and evidences to this difference in denial. At the end, Hong guesses that the intended effect of this memoir is to "remember the impossibility of equality in American democracy" and to "remind us of the unsolvable contradiction in demanding equal rights for people of color from a system created to protect white property rights" (307). Hong points out the "lack of resolution." Hong says that Yamamoto's article "could contribute to the maintenance of the state-sponsored racism of segregation" but does not "critique it" (308). Further, it does not fulfill the potential of being "the basis of an oppositional political project through its creation of an alternative collective memory, its imagining of a space where the cross-race solidarity that did not happen the past could be forged in the future" (308). By this end of Hong's paper I felt that Hong was being too harsh with Yamamoto. Yamamoto perhaps did not have such a powerful stance as she depicted her experience, but I believe that Yamamoto allowed her story to speak for itself, rather than trying to manipulate what happened to achieve her goal.
and Hong's "'Something forgotten which should have been remembered':
Private property and cross-racial solidarity in the work of Hisaye Yamamoto")
Yamamoto begins the account of his experience after the World War II with stating that "some kind of transformation" with lasting effects took place. He admits that it would be too much for him to say that he, "a Japanese American, became Black." The fact that he even begins his story with such a comparison between Japanese American and Black clearly points out the racial formation of those two races in relation to White, perhaps in the form of Kim's triangulization. It was interesting to note that Japanese Americans would further categorize themselves. When describing the event of getting his new job, he keeps comparing himself to a "Nisei." I learned from last year's World Cultures: Asian Pacific American that Japanese Americans group themselves according to, among other things, the degree of being Americanized. The word itself means second generation, but it represents how much of the Japanese culture they preserve. Third generations are called Sansei. Yamamoto continues to tell the readers about his re-integration into society as he goes to school and what not. At the end of the story, during which he depicts the moment he watches the Watts riot on television, Yamamoto says that he was "inwardly cowering" but "felt something else, a trickle of warmth of which he finally recognized as an undercurrent of exultation" (157). The riot "was the long-awaited, gratifying next chapter of an old movie that had flickered about in the black of his mind for years" (157).
Hong's analysis of Yamamoto's work particularly focused on, as it is evident in her title, private property and cross-racial solidarity. After opening her paper with a story, she states that "A Fire in Fontana" can "be read as a commentary on the relation between race and property" (292). According to Hong, Yamamoto "points to a basis for cross-racial solidarity by showing a relational connection," but "to say that African Americans and Japanese Americans have a common history is false" because "the U.S. nation-state creates and reproduces differences in the experiences of African Americans and Japanese Americans through the different ways in which these groups have been denied property rights" (292). Hong then continues to give specific exmaples and evidences to this difference in denial. At the end, Hong guesses that the intended effect of this memoir is to "remember the impossibility of equality in American democracy" and to "remind us of the unsolvable contradiction in demanding equal rights for people of color from a system created to protect white property rights" (307). Hong points out the "lack of resolution." Hong says that Yamamoto's article "could contribute to the maintenance of the state-sponsored racism of segregation" but does not "critique it" (308). Further, it does not fulfill the potential of being "the basis of an oppositional political project through its creation of an alternative collective memory, its imagining of a space where the cross-race solidarity that did not happen the past could be forged in the future" (308). By this end of Hong's paper I felt that Hong was being too harsh with Yamamoto. Yamamoto perhaps did not have such a powerful stance as she depicted her experience, but I believe that Yamamoto allowed her story to speak for itself, rather than trying to manipulate what happened to achieve her goal.
Week 6: "The Idea of Chinatown"
(On Anderson's "The Idea of Chinatown:
The Power of Place and Institutional Practice in Making of a Racial Category,"
Shah's Contagious Divides:
Epidemics and Race in San Francisco's Chinatown pp45-76,
Cheng's "Out of Chinatown and into the Suburbs:
Chinese Americans and the Politics of Cultural Citizenship in Early Cold War America,"
and Li's "Spatial Transformation of an Urban Ethnic Community:
From Chinatown to Ethnoburb in Losangeles")
This week's title "The Idea of Chinatown" refers to Anderson's article. I found it interesting how the author of the, in a way, 'head artitle' had the most 'White' name compared to the other three authors. I started reading the paper with a degree of suspicious and caution, wondering what kind of perspective Anderson would take as an 'outsider' looking into Chinatown. (This would have not been the case if Cheng was the one who wrote "The Idea of Chinatown"). While reading the paper, I quickly realized that being an outsider/insider wasn't so much of an issue. Rather, being an outsider gave Anderson the ability to perhaps take a more objective standpoint with regards to government "inscribing social definitions of identity and place in institutional practice and space" ('Abstract'). Other scholars were consistent with Anderson as they kept their studies and research within the same context of the spatial organization and structure of Chinatown. Shah focused more on health issues, such as waste disposals, smallpox epidemics, and public health apparatuses, later in the chapter; Cheng highlighted the phenomenon of suburbanization and the issue of identity of Chinese Americans that move out of Chinatown; and Li wrote to acknowledge "ethnically owned formal financial institutions in minority communities," or more specifically, Chinese American.
Of all four papers, I found Cheng's "Out of Chinatown and into the Suburbs" most interesting as it discusses about 'cultural citizenship.' I came across this term in Cities in a Global Context when we covered the issue of "Invisible Labor, Contested Citizenship" and migration/mobility. National citizenship and cultural citizenship are not alike because the former is given by the state to give privileges such as voting and whatnot, while the latter refers to one's identity and belonging to a particular group, whether that be race, gender, religion, etc. It was interesting to see how Cheng brought the state/government influence into the context of cultural citizenship with the case of Cold War. Being pressed to be accepted by Americans, Chinese Americans assimilated and became Americanized. They took on the same values and roles to be consistent with the American norm. Especially in terms of family relationships, Cheng pointed out the key 'American' aspects of nuclear family and motherhood/marital status of women.
The Power of Place and Institutional Practice in Making of a Racial Category,"
Shah's Contagious Divides:
Epidemics and Race in San Francisco's Chinatown pp45-76,
Cheng's "Out of Chinatown and into the Suburbs:
Chinese Americans and the Politics of Cultural Citizenship in Early Cold War America,"
and Li's "Spatial Transformation of an Urban Ethnic Community:
From Chinatown to Ethnoburb in Losangeles")
This week's title "The Idea of Chinatown" refers to Anderson's article. I found it interesting how the author of the, in a way, 'head artitle' had the most 'White' name compared to the other three authors. I started reading the paper with a degree of suspicious and caution, wondering what kind of perspective Anderson would take as an 'outsider' looking into Chinatown. (This would have not been the case if Cheng was the one who wrote "The Idea of Chinatown"). While reading the paper, I quickly realized that being an outsider/insider wasn't so much of an issue. Rather, being an outsider gave Anderson the ability to perhaps take a more objective standpoint with regards to government "inscribing social definitions of identity and place in institutional practice and space" ('Abstract'). Other scholars were consistent with Anderson as they kept their studies and research within the same context of the spatial organization and structure of Chinatown. Shah focused more on health issues, such as waste disposals, smallpox epidemics, and public health apparatuses, later in the chapter; Cheng highlighted the phenomenon of suburbanization and the issue of identity of Chinese Americans that move out of Chinatown; and Li wrote to acknowledge "ethnically owned formal financial institutions in minority communities," or more specifically, Chinese American.
Of all four papers, I found Cheng's "Out of Chinatown and into the Suburbs" most interesting as it discusses about 'cultural citizenship.' I came across this term in Cities in a Global Context when we covered the issue of "Invisible Labor, Contested Citizenship" and migration/mobility. National citizenship and cultural citizenship are not alike because the former is given by the state to give privileges such as voting and whatnot, while the latter refers to one's identity and belonging to a particular group, whether that be race, gender, religion, etc. It was interesting to see how Cheng brought the state/government influence into the context of cultural citizenship with the case of Cold War. Being pressed to be accepted by Americans, Chinese Americans assimilated and became Americanized. They took on the same values and roles to be consistent with the American norm. Especially in terms of family relationships, Cheng pointed out the key 'American' aspects of nuclear family and motherhood/marital status of women.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Week 5: Differential Access to Homeownership and the Creation of the Ghetto
(On Massey and Denton's American Apartheid Ch1-3
Shapiro's "Race, Homeownership and Wealth"
and Shapiro and Oliver's "Sub-prime as a Black Catastrophe")
Massey, Denton, Shapiro, and Oliver illustrate racial inequality, and the resulting wealth gap and poverty, with specific focus on African Americans in the context of homeownership. In American Apartheid Massey and Denton introduce the concept of 'segregation' as a concept that has disappeared in theory but one that still exists in practice. The authors provide information on homeownership and the extent of its influence. One-third of African Americans all live in a single urban area, out of 16. Many neighborhoods are so racially homogenous that there is no interracial contact. Such disassociation makes these racially segregated ethnic groups blind to other cultures and perhaps a better ways of life. They are unaware of what they deserve or how to work the system to satisfy their needs. They are merely helpless victims of the institutionalized racism and discrimination. The chapters of American Apartheid once again prove that poverty isn't necessarily, or maybe never, solely the fault of those in poverty.
The article by Shapiro and Oliver was on the economic crisis of "sub-prime mortgage meltdown" (A9), which made African Americans suffer from an increasingly widening racial-wealth gap. Basically, sub-prime mortgage crisis made it more difficult for people to borrow money, hence buying a house became evermore impossible for those who cannot afford it. Shapiro and Oliver calls this crisis a "Black Catastrophe." Although African Americans today have a better chance of joining the upward mobility and to accumulate wealth, the legacies of historical racial segregation and limitations are still keeping them poor, especially in the current crisis. In addition, "changes in the mortgage market [...] were not racially neutral," argues Shapiro and Oliver (A10). The writers maintain that sub-prime loans were racially targeted at the African American community. Honestly I don't understand their reasoning because I have very little understanding of this whole financial crisis, so hopefully the in-class discussions will clarify this.
Two years before writing the article discussed above, Shapiro wrote "Race, Homeownership, and Wealth" to highlight the importance of homeownership as a way of "closing the racial wealth gap" (p1). It seems that Shapiro had a much hopeful outlook as he observes that "increasing black homeownership and rising home values are optimistic signs of closing the racial wealth gap" (p6). Shapiro's later disappointment might explain how the article about the financial crisis holds a relatively narrow view. He has a stance that seems to believe that all odds are working against African Americans. On the other hand, in the "Race, Homeownership, and Wealth" he has a broader understanding. In the first new paragraph on page 8, Shapiro explains that racial pricing disparities "did not result from discriminatory lending practices." I should probably know the consequences of the sub-prime mortage crisis better to understand why and how Shapiro's perspective changed (if it did) and whether or not the resultant argument is credible. As of now, the "Black Catastrophe" article does not convince me.
Shapiro's "Race, Homeownership and Wealth"
and Shapiro and Oliver's "Sub-prime as a Black Catastrophe")
Massey, Denton, Shapiro, and Oliver illustrate racial inequality, and the resulting wealth gap and poverty, with specific focus on African Americans in the context of homeownership. In American Apartheid Massey and Denton introduce the concept of 'segregation' as a concept that has disappeared in theory but one that still exists in practice. The authors provide information on homeownership and the extent of its influence. One-third of African Americans all live in a single urban area, out of 16. Many neighborhoods are so racially homogenous that there is no interracial contact. Such disassociation makes these racially segregated ethnic groups blind to other cultures and perhaps a better ways of life. They are unaware of what they deserve or how to work the system to satisfy their needs. They are merely helpless victims of the institutionalized racism and discrimination. The chapters of American Apartheid once again prove that poverty isn't necessarily, or maybe never, solely the fault of those in poverty.
The article by Shapiro and Oliver was on the economic crisis of "sub-prime mortgage meltdown" (A9), which made African Americans suffer from an increasingly widening racial-wealth gap. Basically, sub-prime mortgage crisis made it more difficult for people to borrow money, hence buying a house became evermore impossible for those who cannot afford it. Shapiro and Oliver calls this crisis a "Black Catastrophe." Although African Americans today have a better chance of joining the upward mobility and to accumulate wealth, the legacies of historical racial segregation and limitations are still keeping them poor, especially in the current crisis. In addition, "changes in the mortgage market [...] were not racially neutral," argues Shapiro and Oliver (A10). The writers maintain that sub-prime loans were racially targeted at the African American community. Honestly I don't understand their reasoning because I have very little understanding of this whole financial crisis, so hopefully the in-class discussions will clarify this.
Two years before writing the article discussed above, Shapiro wrote "Race, Homeownership, and Wealth" to highlight the importance of homeownership as a way of "closing the racial wealth gap" (p1). It seems that Shapiro had a much hopeful outlook as he observes that "increasing black homeownership and rising home values are optimistic signs of closing the racial wealth gap" (p6). Shapiro's later disappointment might explain how the article about the financial crisis holds a relatively narrow view. He has a stance that seems to believe that all odds are working against African Americans. On the other hand, in the "Race, Homeownership, and Wealth" he has a broader understanding. In the first new paragraph on page 8, Shapiro explains that racial pricing disparities "did not result from discriminatory lending practices." I should probably know the consequences of the sub-prime mortage crisis better to understand why and how Shapiro's perspective changed (if it did) and whether or not the resultant argument is credible. As of now, the "Black Catastrophe" article does not convince me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)