tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564423610152905781.post586459652742998581..comments2023-04-24T03:00:50.476-04:00Comments on NOLA radfem blog: Finding Good StuffNOLA radfemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11905750843042076110noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564423610152905781.post-15740011634804711392008-03-15T05:27:00.000-04:002008-03-15T05:27:00.000-04:00No, I haven't seen the Steve Martin movie. I'm a b...No, I haven't seen the Steve Martin movie. I'm a bit phobic of mainstream American movies because the misogyny and race hate in them terrifies me.<BR/><BR/>When I lived in Finland for two years: from the age of ten. I sure did notice that I did not have the right coloured skin. In Australia, most people have a tan and I am just read as a tanned white. But in Finland it was pretty darn obvious we weren't white. We were read as gypsies and were followed around in shopping centres. We had a lot of trouble making friends. Yep, I noticed every day. <BR/><BR/>It is really strange actually. When I was younger I was really, really dark. And my mother is quite light-skinned even though she is half-black. My parents would always get asked whether they had adopted and Aboriginal child! I wonder how they felt about that. My father is very racist (he is Finnish and pure white) and my mother has a lot of internalised race-hate. My grandmother was raised by white nuns and pretty much has little connection to her culture so my mum feels like she is white and does not identify with her blackness and does not want to know about her black history. She is really confused by the fact that I really desperately want to know. Everything about my grandmothers life, our black heritage. But yeah I know the feeling of that Korean boy. <BR/><BR/>Thanks for the compliments on my blog. Yours is awesome too.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564423610152905781.post-21144634532448884472008-03-14T00:21:00.000-04:002008-03-14T00:21:00.000-04:00secondwaver, Yeah, the never-ending quest to be, a...secondwaver, <BR/>Yeah, the never-ending quest to be, at least, a mother who can produce a pair of matching socks!<BR/><BR/>allecto,<BR/>Did you see the Steve Martin movie in which he was raised by a black family? I can't remember the name of the movie; it was very popular in the eighties, but I thought it was pretty lame. Even so, there was a great scene in which Martin's character, about eighteen years old, is finally informed by his black parents that "son, we have something to tell you - you're white." Martin started checking out his hands, mumbling, "I'm white? OH my GOD!" I just loved that, the way it pointed out that someone really could grow to that age and not notice difference (as well as, of course, turning the tables so that, for once, WHITENESS was the "difference").<BR/><BR/>On the other hand, I have a white friend with an adopted Korean son. She was once asked to do an article about interracial adoption and set out writing the "we never notice he's different from the other kids" piece. Her son walked by and asked her what she was writing about, so she told him it was about interracial adoption and how in their family no one noticed he was different. Her son, about twelve at the time, got very sad and said, "Oh. Well, I notice. I notice every day." <BR/><BR/>Still, I think he DIDN'T notice when he was younger, and I suspect that if he lived in a society in which adults were color-blind, he would never have noticed much. I think it's that society pointed that out to him (or, more precisely, society points out racial difference constantly, and he finally reached an age where he began to notice society's racist wallpaper). <BR/><BR/>Is your poem up yet? I'd like to read it. Thanks for speaking up at the conference. Whenever you do work like that, you of course have lots of invisible people standing behind you!<BR/><BR/>Thanks to both of you for reading, and for the comments. You both have such amazing work on your blogs!NOLA radfemhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11905750843042076110noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564423610152905781.post-80678042195145486052008-03-13T07:45:00.000-04:002008-03-13T07:45:00.000-04:00This post has so much in it, I liked reading it. I...This post has so much in it, I liked reading it. In my mismatched socks. :)Jane Hathawayhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16958960058613857276noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8564423610152905781.post-74782086251495119602008-03-13T05:41:00.000-04:002008-03-13T05:41:00.000-04:00I'm sorry you've been depressed lately. I've been ...I'm sorry you've been depressed lately. I've been reading here for a while and am really enjoying your blogging. In regards to being naturally suspicious/conscious of 'other', yes I totally think that is something you have to teach kids. Kids just don't see skin colour, they see people *until* they are socialised into regarding 'otherness' with suspicion. I never noticed that my grandmother was black until I was quite an old child. I think I was about nine when I said in surprise to my grandmother 'you're black!' It had to do with me asking her why she didn't have wrinkly skin like all the other grandmas that I knew. <BR/><BR/>I totally had a moment like the one you described when I went to an International Women's Day event on the weekend. There was a young white, middle-class, political, uni girl at the event that didn't like it when I talked about prostitution as slavery. I found it really difficult to argue with her. I got tongue-tied and nervous because she was so confident and sure of herself. She was part of Amnesty International, she had been chosen to speak as a young woman at the conference, her voice was better, more important than mine. And yeah she immeadiately got my back up. So I wrote a poem and submitted it to the 'Coming Together' over at Women's Space and Tami's.<BR/><BR/>Anyway, thanks for this post and for your blog.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com