Warning: there are spoilers, so you’re not allowed to read this if you haven’t watched the show yet, got it?
We -- four of the many moderators of carlmicroaggressions.tumblr.com -- wanted to take this opportunity to explain the purpose of Carleton Microaggressions and talk about some of the criticisms of the site in order to foster a more open dialogue on campus about privilege, oppression, power, resistance, understanding, and the role of the blog within these conversations.
In hopes of spurring a conversation concerning race and general difference on our campus that I think needs to be less focused on political correctness and more focused on the issues at hand, I am writing this article. It will clarify and correct my comments in the Carletonian three weeks ago on the “Carleton Microaggressions” blog and discrimination at Carleton.
You are in a deserted field, far away from the nearest worker. Except you are not alone. It would be better if you were alone, because then your supervisor wouldn’t be cornering you. You know what’s going to happen next, but you can’t do anything about it.
Well, the Internet never fails to surprise me. There is a blogger, Matt Forney, who I can’t believe is real. His blog, “Matt Forney: The man who shouted love at the heart of the world,” is the nightmare of any self-respecting individual. Although most of his posts frighten me, the one that made me question his sanity was his ideological rant titled, “The Case Against Female Self-Esteem.”
I’ve always been an adamant feminist, insistent that women and men are always equal, no matter the situation. Humans are individuals, and we can’t say that some of us are one way and others, another. It differs. But physical capabilities--sports--is where I draw blank.
Thirteen Carls sat in a room Wednesday night and the conversation went something like this:
When it comes to any decision, from the mundane (Burton or LDC today?) to the dire (shall I launch the warheads, Mr. Secretary?), we are faced with an opportunity cost. The CSA is now considering a decision that, while neither mundane nor dire, is a pressing matter both financially and socially for all of us. As thoughtful people, we the people whom the CSA serves must carefully consider the implications of this phrase that could become another part of our lives if we chose so: “Wi-Fi on the Bald Spot.”
Firstly, I want to deplore the public officials who allowed the controversy about attacking Syria to break out while our students were on campus, possibly compromising their neutrality by luring them into expressing opinions on an issue of global importance and so, in the long run, harming the planet by withering their career prospects. Obviously by “neutrality” I mean neuteredness.
Secondly, what would Paul Wellstone do?
Finally, I wonder how this issue played/is playing over in St. Olaf’s.
I did a bad thing.
It came from me receiving a generous fellowship to travel to Armenia for the summer, and it just so happened that my grandparents in Japan wanted to have me come visit as well. Thus followed a blur of airports and bus stations that took me from Denver to Moscow to Yerevan to Tbilisi to Istanbul to Tokyo to Denver. “There and Back Again,” someone once said.
Coming from Kenya, Cuba, India and Norway has not always been easy. Meeting family always meant adapting to new practices and traditions. However cliché it may seem, there was a certain unity in this diversity.
In fact, our only shared characteristic -- a love for cooking -- might have been the most powerful.
If I’m right that the local food movement is fueled as much by the positive search for a more authentic mode of living as it is the fear of environmental degradation (and this ought to be disputed, ‘cause though I love food, my own cooking skills never really progressed much past blue box pasta so y’all probably know more about this than me), I’d just like to point briefly to one pitfall the local food movement will perhaps be prone to falling in to.