Author Archives: Adora

A Time to Reflect and Project

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I’ve been to the Ithaca Farmers Market before but this time, it felt different. Surrounded by two of my closest friends, it started to dawn on me. This was one of the last moments I would have with them for quite some time. Sprinkled across the country for the summer and spread around the world in the throughout  the next academic year, we will only be together again the Fall of our senior year.

While we took the time to reflect on the year, as well as project how years to come will be, we spent the majority of time in the present – enjoying the winds breeze and rays of sun. As we walked past vendors and enjoyed our (food you could buy), I couldn’t help but think about how this year was been one of the most trying – emotionally and physically – that I’ve probably ever had. And it really was the kindness, grace and laughter of my friends that provided me the space to feel awkward, joyous, sad, and comfortable with the young woman I felt myself becoming.

Oddly enough, Ithaca had become my home and has played a large role in my personal development. I never imagined that a place that seemed so “small town”  would grow on me. But as I talked with farmers and heard their stories, they felt like my people. But I can’t even fathom the amount of new people I will be meeting this summer and in abroad in Europe this coming fall. If they are anything like the people I’ve encountered in my two years at Cornell, I should be good.

If the world has taught me one thing, its: to stop asking why me, and begin accepting my life as the divine, complex and beautiful exception that it is.

A Haven for Heroin

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I initially came to “Townhall: Embracing a Shared Community,” with the hopes of learning more about the “Ithaca Plan.” After a conversation surrounding city planning, police relations,  and college town, Mayor Svante Myrick began to discuss in detail his new initiative.

Two years ago, an angry mayor brainstormed with a group of people from around the community – law enforcement, hospital, business owners, university administers – to solve the war on drugs. Together through municipal power, they created the Ithaca Plan. It was a completely innovative way to reimagine drug addiction as a disease.

A victim to the brutal impacts of heroin addiction, he had a glimpse into the struggle of addiction. He described addiction like a fast moving river, that many people fall into. And for some, the river will pull them under with no chance to rise above. In my opinion, Mayor Myrick is looking to extend a hand to those wanting relief.  By  building a facility that provides a safe space for heroin addictions to slowly wean themselves off this addictive drug in a medically supervised manner, he hopes to reduce death rates. Moreover, his four step plan aims to reduce crime, drug usage and stimulate local economy.

Who am I to be an Activist?

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“It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?” – Nelson Mandela, activist

 

I like to think of activism like a bike. You can put away your bike for years and never touch it. But once you sit on the seat and begin to peddle, it is natural and fluid. You don’t really forget how to ride a bike. Activism, for me, is something that can never be lost. However, it is a tool that we don’t get the chance to utilize everyday for a variety of reasons. Whether it’s the environment/setting, oppression, or exhaustion.

 

After having a conversation with a small group of students about activism, I realized that we need more people to proclaim themselves as activists. I think that if we do not value our actions as what they are, their meaning will decrease.  Nelson Mandela, said “”…our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.” What if didn’t let a single identifier scare us? What if we liberated yourselves (and others) by not only living out  lives, but also seeing our efforts authentically? What if we started calling ourselves what we are? What if we owned our status as activists?

 

Not everyone in that room walked in as an activist, but everyone left one. I was told once by a club advisor at an early morning meeting that, “if you are here right now, you are an activist.” It was that simple, my physical presence was just enough to start a movement. In fact, it was all that was necessary. Activism is more than megaphones, moving speeches, or politics. It is in the everyday. Activism is calling out subtle racist and sexist behavior, it is resisting rape culture, it is befriending those that are on the fringes of society, and it is intersectionality.

 

Mandela again adds, “as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.” I hope that my boldness and ability to identify as an activist in the midst of simply ‘showing up’ and ‘resisting’ is enough to permit others to take claim over their activism, regardless of how grand it may be.

Its Time We Get Realistic

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Last week was incredibly tiring, from the amount of class work looming over my head to endless fun times at my reach. However, the conversation I had with Kate Harding, set the pace for the week. Regardless the all the things that I had to do, this week was one of consciousness.

The one thing I enjoy most about the dinner conversations in Rose is that they are always composed of people with varying backgrounds and knowledge on topics. I was sitting in a room with men who felt isolated from gender conversation, women of color who wanted to know more and with individuals who didn’t know what rape culture meant.  And me, I was motivated by a recent statistics that heralded startling news that: black women  on campus (approx. 4%) account for the majority of sexual assaults reported.

We began our talk with the basics: rape culture. In the simplest of terms, Kate described it as, ” a culture that protects the needs of the rapist more than the victims.” Protecting the rapist takes on many forms, which range for large acts to more nuanced. Rape culture also encompasses a general climate of racism, sexism and heteronormativity. Rape culture also is ignoring male rape victims.

The denial of rape culture is real. When college administrators across the country were asked if they believed sexual assault was an issue on college campuses, they were quick to say yes. However, when the question asked if sexual assault was an issue on their own campus, the majority said now. This inability to see rape culture for what it is comes down to us not wanting to believe that the men that we know, love and trust could become mixed up in “toxic entitlement” and the objectification of women’s bodies.

Its time to get realistic about the situation. We continue to perpetuate a culture that  sends the message that rapists can get away with this behavior. We need to stop asking questions which shift the blame on to the victim. Its time to start having conversations around  sex positivity younger. College is too late to learn and fix this behavior.  Its time for the Cornell Daily Sun to paint rapist as campus leaders with big futures. Its time we stop telling our victims that the should be ashamed and that they deserve no administrative support.

Its time we get realistic.

Middle School Lunch Table Politics

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I attended to a talk by Professor David Freidenreich about religion and left with a lot to chew on. As a Christian, I often forget about other religions. I’m from the West Coast, Seattle to be specific and I’ve only ever encountered people who are Christian. Since coming to the East coast, I’ve become more aware of Jewish people and their faith. My upbringing didn’t discuss Judaism. The only Jewish person, I knew of was Jesus. As a result, my understanding of the Jewish faith was left to media and we all know that is never the best way to learn about a group. Subsequently, I have carried invalid ideas and beliefs about the Jewish. However, on this day, that all came to an end.

While I know that many factors are used to divide Jewish, Christians and Muslims, Freidenreich’s perspective of food was an interesting lens.

Freidenreich said that if a rabbi, minister and a priest all walked in a restaurant, they would have be discord of eating. The dietary restrictions of each religion would “prove tragic.” However, this image is reminiscent of middle school lunch table politics or the racial segregation in dinners. Food has always been a uniting force but history will show that we use this setting as a way divide and belittle.

Which brings me to the point of the entire discussion.  These dietary restrictions created an “us vs. we” mentality for religious groups. Dietary restrictions were how each group held their claim to holiness. And in a sense, their dietary laws were a reflection of their religious doctrine as well. For Jewish, their strict laws helped to keep them distinct and sanctioned as God’s chosen people, while Christians loose food laws represented the inclusiveness of the their religion.

After walking away from a space that was primarily Jewish, I felt a bit of bitterness from the speaker’s depiction of Christians. For so long, I have been operating under the context that Jewish people are just a powerful as Christians. But, I was deceived. That day I learned that Jewish people are in fact a religious minority. For me, this means that I have to due away with my own deeply ingrained stereotypes, inaccurate accounts and privilege as a Christian, in order to provide a space to hear and learn about Jewish culture. While I’m thankful for the opportunity to have been allowed to sit at a different table for the day and understand a small part of their culture, I welcome the chance for more inter-faith experiences and conversations.

God Protects

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I must admit. I have never watched a foreign film. But after watching, Dukhtar, my skepticism and opinions of foreign films have changed. As an American, I view the world through my first-world “lens” and fail to see the valuable contributions that other countries have made. This film was pure cinematic ingenuity. However, the visuals didn’t leave a lasting impact. It was the feminist and religious undertones throughout the film that left a mark for me.

Ripe with powerful lessons, Dukhtar showed me the power of discomfort. Allah Rakhi, the mother, didn’t want her child to be a statistic, let alone a repeat of her life. Her discomfort propelled her to take big actions. I doubt Allah Rakhi knew the statistics: every year, around the world, nearly 15 million girls lose their childhood to marriage and for me this is an unacceptable reality. Child brides often show signs symptomatic of sexual abuse and post-traumatic stress such as feelings of hopelessness, helplessness and severe depression.

She risked her life in order to ensure that her daughter was protected. She had faith. And while, I wasn’t sure about the characters religious beliefs, the ambiguity allowed me to shape my own meaning. And while this movie is suppose to be about the daughter. I focused primarily on the mother and her sacrifice, which is also a reoccurring theme throughout the Bible. Throughout every leg of the turn, she was lucky. But I saw it differently. Her path was blessed and watched over. Ironically, that is the meaning of Allah Raki is “God protects.”

While god protects, he also forgives. In a way, this journey to free her daughter was how this mother forgave herself for not fighting hard enough for her own freedom. By fighting for her daughter’s freedom, she forgave herself and her situation. This film caused me to think deep and hard about what privileges I have because people fought for my freedom. I’m thankful for the love of individuals who have protected my path and for those that are working hard to ensure that it remains smooth.

Your Existence is Resistance

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For all my life, I have felt as though I need to fight to be heard. I have been resisting the subtle and not subtle forms of discrimination and oppression. I spent the majority of my high school years, being an “activist.” But I found that more than anything I was talking, rather than acting. I left high school tired. Constantly educating and correcting people, was mentally exasperating. So when I entered college I made it a goal to take a step back.

However this past week, I was welcomed back into the world of activism. I had the opportunity to sit down with a group of motivated and proactive groups of student activist on campus.  We spent the majority of our time discussing the hurdles and obstacles that DREAM Cornell (Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors) and allies face with Cornell administration and students’ disposition. On many accounts, these students don’t feel heard or acknowledged. The reoccurring theme I gathered from this conversation was that undocumented students want to have dignity. And I pose the question all those reading: is that too much to ask for?

There is such a deep stigma attached to being undocumented in America. Cornell’s campus is not excluded. One of the student panelist shared that being undocumented isn’t shameful in her community. But once she leave the bubble of home, she was plagued with constant fear. While Cornell may be relatively safe for undocumented students, my fellow classmates still hold the fear that someone may report to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) that there are illegal immigrants living in the Latino living center.

I was surprised to learn that for sometime undocumented students were categorized as international students. And while this isn’t the case anymore, DREAM Cornell still feels an obligation as well as connection with their fellow students. When the University announced that they would discontinue need-blind admission to International students, DREAM protested in solidarity. Activism doesn’t have to be loud. And the DREAM cornell displayed that accurately when they entered the student union with butterflies wings in order to emphasize the power of action compared to words.

Student activism begins by listening. It begins by welcoming all bodies in whatever form they come in. Activism isn’t productive without inclusion and intersectionality. And I agree with many of panelist when I say, as a collective body we move nowhere when sectors of our groups are further disenfranchised and forgotten.

For the undocumented students of Cornell University and beyond, please know that I am listening. Your concerns and issues will always been heard by me. Thank you for sharing your story. 

“it was supposed to make you feel something”

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“She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.” – Unknown

Art should evoke emotion within you. While I believe it should look nice for the most part, I think we, as humans, are very good at confusing looking nice for having meaning. However, there is a place for beauty to be admired. But, I do that enough. At this point in my life, I’m looking for art that makes me think.

As a student of the Industrial and Labor Relations School, I don’t get the opportunity to be in the presence of art. In fact, there are days where I believe that art is easy and simple. And devalued the passionate and expertise that art requires.

Last week, I attended an event that explored art in contemporary Cuba. Of all the artist that were discussed, Ernesto Pujol left the greatest impact. For him, art was how he lived his life. Art provided meaning and at times, clarity. As a homosexual male, Pujol didn’t fit anywhere. As someone who knows what it means to be disregarded because of societal structures, I have been pushed to question who I am. Pujol’s exploration of his identity is evident in his work.

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This piece displays Pujol’s fascination with whiteness and masculinity. Whiteness and the varying connotations of purity, innocence are examined in his work. Through baseball, a masculine sport, he found a way to express the limitations he felt as a child. Having the baseballs also placed in a cooking bowl juxtaposed to the mitt illustrates his own views on gender stereotypes during his upbringing. Knowing his deep interest in the color white, the dusty baseballs indicate to me that he felt that the game of baseball (or the overall gender construct) played a role in his loss of innocence.

Art is open to interpretation. And thats what I enjoyed most about this experience. I was getting the opportunity to engage with art on my own terms. Like Pujol, many things have been  decided for me. But, I hope that art and the various other forms of art that I interact with will give me the space to be fully me.

Our Art is a Reflection of Our Reality

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As I walked out the film, Straight Outta Compton, I was surprised by the conversation of two white individuals behind me. I couldn’t help but smile at the stupidity and ignorance that easily escaped their mouths. Their conversation existed somewhere along the lines of comparing this film to every other “black music industry” movie. And somehow, because Dream Girls, Cadillac Records, and Ray were are all widely acclaimed, they saw no reason for this film to not receive the same recognition.

And now, this brings us to topic of the #OscarsSoWhite movement. While I do appreciate my classmates for their attempts at a conversation regarding race, I struggle to accept it as valid because it missed the mark. It wasn’t about the system and politics that favors white people, white art and white money. It was a conversation that compared the similarities between movies that center around black people and music.

When some look at a film like Straight Outta Compton, its easy to just see a bunch of black people rapping and doing “black people things.” But for me, I saw something else. I saw the tale of a group of young men learning what it means to trust yourself and those around you with secrets, power and money. It was a coming of age story, that is applicable to all.

Why is it that I see so much diversity among the films titled “black music industry movies” by my classmates and a lot of similarity between “white films?” It comes down to the vastly different realities that we all experiences. Films and music tend to reflect our lives in many ways. They highlight the ups and downs with authenticity and accurateness.

O’Shea Jackson Jr., who plays his father, Ice Cube, said in the movie that “our art is a reflection of our reality.” He couldn’t have been more true. I can’t expect a cabinet of older white men to understand and resonate with the characters of Straight Outta Compton. This move was a honest depiction of a life, that for many remains unknown and only discovered through the nightly news. It isn’t real. Even for me, the character’s lives didn’t resemble mine the slightest. But, there was a shared experience. Similarly to Eazy-E, I’ve cried over broken black bodies. And similarly, to the entire cast, I’ve cried over the loss of someone you love.

I do not expect people to understand me. Or my life. However, is it crazy to want people to understand that  black artists, writers, students, teachers, architects, scientists are individuals? That we live our lives shaped by are blackness but never defined by it?

Its funny because I felt as if I had my “black” card revoked because I was slow to watch Straight Outta Compton. But now, I feel as thought I had it ripped away when I casually let two of my classmates walk away with their reality, never to know mine.