Quien calla otorga

The social construct of reality for Latinos in the United States is bound up in the discussion of illegal immigration, an unfair representation that is fueled by media portrayals and reporting. The problem is not so much what journalists say as it is what they leave out—a symbolic annihilation of any Latinos who are not poor and undocumented and/or a radical protestor against U.S. immigration law.

In a state like Texas, this is fueling a dangerous fire. Many Anglos see the growing Hispanic population as a threat, as a drain on resources and a drag on the economy because that’s what the media is leading us to believe. Every person with brown skin is probably an illegal immigrant.

Successful Latinos are presented as an anomaly, a rare triumph rising up from challenging circumstances. But more often the story is framed as a stereotype that turns into a commonly-held perception: your Dallas County property taxes are too high because of all the Mexicans getting free health care at Parkland; DISD is out of money because they have to hire so many Spanish-speaking teachers; the immigrants are using resources, committing crimes and causing problems for everyone.

What the media forgets to mention is that about 75% of immigrants have legal, permanent visas. Of the 25% that are undocumented, nearly half have just overstayed their legal visas. The majority are gainfully employed and pay taxes.

A bigger point—all these Mexican immigrants together represent about 10% (5 million) of the total 48.4 million Hispanics/Latinos in the United States. The other 90% are native-born citizens of Hispanic/Latino heritage.

An even bigger point—each are individuals with a story to tell. By dehumanizing, labeling and often demonizing Latinos as a homogeneous and indistinguishable caricature, the mainstream media does a disservice to everyone who doesn’t fit within their narrow interpretation.  

Shattering a glass slipper

Asking me to challenge my love of Disney has been an uncomfortable experience—and really the first such confrontation of the semester. The majority of our topics have been easy to nod along with. Yes, it’s wrong that all black people are represented as criminals. Yes, advertising preys on our insecurities. Yes, gay men are stereotyped on television. Of course, of course. We get it.

But deconstructing the magic and happiness of a Disney movie is quite another perspective. The cognitive dissonance was jarring, and I was not at all surprised when many of my classmates defended the films. I grew up on Disney, as did most children I knew. And, yes, I dressed up as a princess. Though have long since given up on the idea that “someday my prince will come.”

At the same time, it was good to hear the perspectives of non-white students—their not seeing characters they could emulate, the lack of roles for them to take on in playground re-creations, the struggle to find themselves reflected in animated characters. As a white girl, I saw myself in every movie…usually wearing a pretty dress and a crown at the end. It just didn’t occur to me that everyone didn’t see the same.

It’s a good approach for a deeper discussion on analyzing other cultural norms and accepted elements around us, and would serve this course well to have this topic earlier in the semester.

Bamboozled, indeed.

Spike Lee doesn't know how to be subtle. In many of his movies, this works to his credit, blowing away the audience with his insight and perspective. "Do The Right Thing" is one example of this. "Malcolm X" is another. The intensity works to make you think.

In "Bambozzled," the intensity works only to make you pull back. The stereotypes are too extreme, the characters too one-dimensional, the points too many to actually make a real point.

It was as if he just wanted to make a social commentary, not make a movie with a message.

I wasn't engaged, interested, or entertained. I didn't gain any understanding into another culture. I didn't leave thinking anything except "thank goodness that's over....and couldn't we have accomplished just as much watching a 15-minute excerpt?"

If the shock value was the point, mission accomplished. But I won't be sharing this one with my friends.

Pretty is as pretty does

When the Texas A&M women's basketball team won the NCAA tournament--and by extention, the National Championship in the most visible of women's sports--it prompted me to watch the WNBA draft for the first time. Two Aggies were invited, and I was curious to see if they'd get picked.

As each pro team announced their pick, the all-female team of ESPN commentators would discuss why the chosen player was a good fit for the squad. It was, for me, a jarring experience. Not because I wasn't used to ESPN showing women in commentator roles (though that it certainly an anomoly on that station), but because of their choice of words. They admiringly said that the player was a "big girl." Her brawn and toughness was widely praised. She was lauded for being agressive. She "threw her weight around" the court. All the adjectives you might hear in reference to a football player--on the defensive line.

They meant all these things as compliments, of course, and once I got over the initial surprise, I stopped thinking of it as rude. "Finally," I thought, "ESPN is giving balanced coverage to women's sports...even if it is just 1.8% of their on-air time."

Just as that thought crossed my mind, they did a profile on the top draft choice getting ready for Draft Day. Maya Moore was an All-American. She won the 2007 and 2008 Naismith and the 2009 John Wooden Awards. She scored over 2,000 points in her college career and led her UConn team to two National Championships. TWO.

So of course the feature was all about her getting her hair done, having makeup applied, and posing for photos.  And people wonder why we don't, as a culture, take women's sports seriously.

Who cares about white guys

When we talk about gender studies, we rarely include men. When we talk about race, we rarely include whites. When we talk about sexuality, we rarely include straight. All of which leaves straight white men out of the conversation.

Though the media predominantly features this group--more so than any other--and their hegemony is without question in the United States, they are symbolically annhiliated in another way. Their issues and concerns and struggles as individuals somehow matter less. We don't talk about stereotypes or ways that men try to grow against them. We don't talk about what it means to "be a man" in our culture. We don't talk about body image, self-concept, or even the pressures that come with being born into a gender and skin color that is often positioned as a dominant oppressor.

Even in a class that takes a broad and high-level view of race and gender, white guys were relegated to half a class--most of which was taken up by a film that touched upon one narrow and easily accepted "issue." 

And I do care to know. I want to understand who men are...and who they are trying to become. I want to have conversations like the one I had with my classmate on the train ride home, in which he told me about being a white man in our culture. About his character-building influences. About the way white guys are portrayed and often pigeonholed. What he thinks about sports. Even how he feels about the preponderance of television actors always having their shirts off in programming these days.  

It gave me some insights I wish I'd had 20 years ago, when I was dating guys his age. But it also made me realize that I'm missing part of the complete picture--and a pretty big piece at that. If I leave white men out of my understanding of race and gender in the media, can I really claim to know how all the other pieces should fit?

Narrow minds

"We live in a culture where you don't exist if you're not portrayed on television," says one expert in the documentary Further off the Straight and Narrow. But if television portrays a group only marginally--within a specific typecast, as a convenient plotline to boost ratings, or in a vaguereference in an advertisement--does this mean that they only partially exist?

In U.S. media, this seems to be the case. Homosexuals exist in the public eye, and thus in the minds of many Americans, as the commonly held stereotype. Gay men are flamboyant, stylish, upwardly mobile and emotional. Lesbian women have short, spiky hair and play softball. Anything outside this "norm" is causes confusion in a narrow mind. But it also means that any homosexual who falls outside this frame is symbolically annihilated from our culture.

But this is not a worldwide phenomena. European media paints a much broader image, and while this might not change prejudice and persectution, it does create a world in which there is a fuller, broader definition of this cultural group. On BBC America programs, for example, sexual orientation is often just one element of larger character definition--not THE defining trait--and rarely are these individuals painted in the broad brush of the stereotypical gay.

For instance, the leading man on one sci-fi show called "Torchwood" is rugged, handsome and very masculine. He's a tough-guy, dominant leader of the team that investigates alien activity on Earth. And he is equally attracted to men and women...and aliens (multisexual?). A scene might show him kissing another man, and being interrupted by another team member. But the awkwardness that follows is not because he was kissing a man, but more the natural embarrassment of walking in on your boss kissing anyone. An ongoing issue is his promiscuity, but not so much the gender of his partners.

By de-emphasizing the importance of a character's sexual orientation in this way, it serves to make it a more normal and acceptable part of a person's lifestyle--a part of who he is, but not ALL he is--without diminishing that part of the individual in the process. Until the American media reaches that awareness, homosexuals in our society will only partially exist as their true selves.

A bad rap

I don't understand rap music. Literally. When Eminem was on the Grammys this year, I had to turn on closed captioning to decipher his lyrics. It was like watching a foreign film with a really odd plotline.

I don't understand rap music figuratively either. It seems to me that the Black community has embraced it as a cultural possession. Liking rap music is part of "acting Black," as if there is a right way to act a color. And the literature and studies seem to suggest that many Blacks see rap as a reflection and definition of who they are.

But the videos from class depict a world that no one should want to be a part of. The violent and degrading images demean everyone involved. And from the few examples we saw, they seem to perpetuate stereotypes that are neither uplifing or empowering to Blacks. In fact, they seem expressly directed at confirming the worst perceptions of society--that Black men are agressive and unpredictable; that Black women have an attitude; that neither gender is capable of a healthy and mutually satisfying relationship. To me, the lyrics and images seem to support every prejudicial slur you could direct against that racial identity.

The comments from Black students seem to confirm this perception. They made a point to distance themselves from the sentiments expressed and defining their identity as more than social (or even ethnic community) norms dictate. Though many--Black and White--students admitted they listened to rap music, no one agreed with the content or context of the artists. Not one. It remains a mystery to me as to why this genre continues to flourish, especially amongst a group of people it continues to debase.

Diversity

“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.”-- Friedrich Nietzsche

The most astonishing thing was the diversity. In a class that is primarily white, middle-class, well-educated kids in their 20s, the projects and presentations covered a wide range of topics. From a few lines of direction, we selected media—and found meaning—across the spectrum.

I expected overlap. I thought I’d see a narrow and somewhat less inventive range. A handful of the same kinds of mainstream magazines, all from the same decade or two. Maybe some recent local newspapers. Current and popular television shows.

What I listened to—and learned from—was instead wildly inventive. And the focus and perspective helped me see things I’d never considered. It never occurred to me that Minnie Mouse presented a skewed and extreme portrayal of gender. I knew gays on television weren’t representative of all homosexual men (by far), but it took Kali’s words to help me see that they are the same character, repeated over and over in different actors. Katherine’s video on the “Color of Beauty” showed (yet another) side of the fashion world that warps our reality of real women.

But the most revealing moment of the evening was when Josh came forward to share his project. Because before he even opened his mouth, I stereotyped him as not very smart. He dressed like too many men I’d known in my life—what many in Texas call a “good ol’ boy,” slightly redneck, certainly nice, friend to just about everyone. Probably in a fraternity (and probably Kappa Alpha Order, if I had to guess). But also slightly shallow. Not what anyone would call a brainiac.

When he opened his spreadsheet and started walking us through it, it blew those preconceptions out of the water. I was fascinated by the information, impressed by the breadth of his quantitative research. I nearly asked for a copy of his full report. I nearly apologized for underestimating him. I did chastise myself for ever thinking that his outward appearance should be any indication of his scholarly abilities.

I’m learning that I'm not as open minded as I'd like to think. I'm learning to think about things in new ways. But I am learning. Every day and every new perspective is a revelation.

Hanging on my wall since 1991:

Sales tactics

In the marketing department, we call it “FUD”—the fear, uncertainty and doubt we (or our competitors) instill in the minds of potential buyers. By spreading a little FUD about the other guy’s product—whether we do it in a sales meeting or throughout piece of propaganda—we can cause the client to stick with the safe option and avoid business risk.  

Of course, the opposite is true in advertising. It’s the fear, uncertainty and doubt that sells a product. Advertisers prey on our insecurities. And let’s face it: every woman has them. Even the most confident among us can readily point out each of our own flaws. It’s a long list, one that ad teams know well. Does your hair look like this? Are you enhancing your bust line to its full potential? Is your failure to be thin because you’re eating the wrong cereal?

The funny thing is—now that I’m older—I don’t buy much based on advertising anymore. I don’t know if its maturity or cynicism or knowing what works for me now. But I buy the cereal that tastes good, the jeans that fit my body type (which is never going to change), and the cat food that the kitties are least likely to puke back up.

And even though I do still buy makeup and wear it regularly, it’s much more for me and much less to attract the attention of a man. Anyone who wants to date me will have to love me just the way I am, flaws and all.

Digging a little deeper

“The Black Press: Soldiers without Swords” debuted at the 1999 Sundance Film Festival, where it won the Freedom of Expression Award, “decided on by the documentary jury and given to a documentary film that informs and educates the public on issues of social or political concern.”( http://www.imdb.com/event/ev0000631/overview)

 The film was later broadcast on PBS. As the organization often does for its documentary features, an accompanying website was also created:

http://www.pbs.org/blackpress/news_bios/index.html

The site is a significantly deeper dive into the people, publications and topics from the film. As filmmaker Stanley Nelson said in the “Discuss and Chat” section, “Part of our struggle in making the film was to manage the enormous history of the Black Press, and to fit this history into an hour and a half. In doing this, we had to make some very difficult decisions.”

He adds that many newspapers were excluded–such as publications that were published by organizations like churches or the NAACP—simply because of space considerations. Further, the film documents the black press only through the 1960s, leaving out the significant gap in publications that has persisted since.

“I think that we need a strong advocacy press as we had in the 1920s, ‘30s and ‘40s,” says Jill Nelson, author of “Voluntary Slavery: My Authentic Negro Experience” in the “Modern Journalists” portion of the site. “It’s difficult to establish that…and one of the reasons is integration. We have forgotten that our interests are often very different from that of the dominant white culture.”

Most interesting, however, are the comments left by individual viewers. Some are academic inquiries to the filmmaker for more information or resources, showing that historians are becoming increasingly aware of the subject. The majority, though, are from those expressing—as many of us did in class—a surprise and (somewhat poignant) appreciation that this topic was being brought to light. As one person wrote:

I would like to say that I finished high school twenty five years ago. Our curriculum was not set up to embrace our self esteem. So we were not informed of The Black Press or anything important about our heritage. I was an adult before I ever heard of The Black Press. So when I became a parent, I spent time in the library and in book stores. Also, I looked for books every place. I wanted my son to know about our black history, for I knew that the schools in our country could damage our children. Please, if you have children there are certain black people that your children should know who they are and what they stood for in our society. Because after they know that our people were slaves in America, and The Underground Railroad with Harriet Tubman as the conductor, then they must know that: 1. We were freed. 2. Why we were freed? 3.What president was in office to execute? Last but not least. 4. Who were the real soldiers without swords? There are black heroes that every black child must have some knowledge of. Give them as much exposure as possible.

Viewpoints like this make me realize the importance of painting a more complete picture. But it also makes me wonder how much more is missing. What else didn’t I learn about my own nation’s history? What’s the rest of the story? It’s enough to make me dig a little deeper and find out.

"Egypt Proved Change Is Possible, Sexy and Cool!"

Short commentary by Mona Eltahawy on how media coverage of the peaceful revolution in Egypt changed stereotypes about Arabs (which were created by the media)--and how Mubarak had been using those stereotypes to stay in power.

This was on CBS Sunday Morning on February 13. (2:28)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2B7n4QwJr3w

Mirror, mirror

In the short film “A Girl Like Me,” 18 year old Jennifer says “we don’t know what it is we should be” because they don’t see girls like themselves—or their future selves as Black women—reflected back at them by the media. “We’re busy searching for [an identity],” she says, “while everyone else is busy throwing ideas at us and telling us what we should be.” As a result, many Black girls strive towards the iconic White representation of beauty—thin, light skinned, soft hair and model-perfect.

Jennifer is right to feel alienated, and she’s certainly not alone. These idealized images set a standard to which, advertisers tell us, we should all aspire. Repeated often enough, the concepts solidify and take on lives of their own. They seem more “real” to us than real life ever did, and it’s easy to think no one is like you when you never see your situation reflected in commercials, magazines, or newspapers. But when the predominant representation is white and middle-class and physically stunning, that leaves a lot of us feeling that we’re in the minority.

This homogenization of culture too easily categorizes individuals—unique and terrifically different—into convenient categories, which in turn become easy-to-swallow stereotypes. It’s easier to accept that someone fits into this group or that, and “they” are just a little bit lacking what “we” are so fortunate to have. It’s hard to say, though, if it’s a vast conspiracy to maintain the hegemony of white men or just a convenient shortcut of society.

Fortunately, even the most commonly held or universal stereotypes can’t bear up against our inherent individuality. As much as we categorize and classify, everyone interprets things just a little differently from our own points of view. The same photo of a woman in a red dress appears powerful, sexy, slutty or even cocktail-ready, depending on our perspectives, experiences and countless other influences. As in any mirror, media images look different depending on who’s doing the looking.

So even though The Mirror is telling us we should want to be the fairest of them all, maybe…just maybe….we are learning that we don’t always have to listen.  

Frames and perspectives

As I watched "the most amazing video on the internet" to open the class Monday night, I couldn't help thinking that our perspective--and that of journalists reporting a story--has a profound impact on our perception and reaction to the world. The stories coming out of Egypt fit perfectly into the frame of "struggle for democracy," a storyline loved by the national press. Coverage has generated a flurry of positive social media chatter and general support of the American people.

But take that same mass of exuberant Arabian men--nearly all of whom are Muslim--and move that protest to New York, Chicago or Dallas and the frame would very quickly change tone. And I don't think many Americans would be comfortable with it at all.

Yet, obviously, more than just the media has influenced our perception. In this case, we have to factor in our personal experiences in a post-9/11 world, from airport security to individual encounters with Middle Easterners. (My doctor, for example, is a Pakistani man whom I just adore...). All these elements shape our expectations and, in turn, color our reaction to the media.

This even extends to more mundane matters like sportscasts. In America--and especially in Texas--we've grown up with men on camera covering sporting events. That's just "the way it is" and fits our prevailing idea of what a game (especially football) should look and sound like. In many cases, this expectation trumps expertise: we get someone like Brett Musberger, who seems to know very little about the actual game, over someone like Hannah Storm or Erin Andrews, both of whom know their stuff.   

Which is not to say this won't change. ESPN currently employs 39 female anchors, reporters, analysts and on-air contributors--18% of their total on-air staff. Why? The audience is changing. 62% of women say they watch sports regularly or occasionally on TV, according to BIGresearch’s Simultaneous Media Survey (SIMM 10, July 07) of 15,439 consumers. And if media is driven by commercial/economic factors, broadcasters will air what viewers want to see.

And that includes stories like the Egyptian uprising. Americans love a revolution that reflects our own democratic roots...as long as it's half a world away. We'll tune in, and in the eyes of the media corporations, that's perhaps what counts the most.

Thinking about it.

In returning to the classroom for the first time in 20 years, I am approaching this semester with some degree of trepidation. I'm unsure of my abilities to grasp new concepts, analyze information, or exercise critical thinking. It's (sadly) not something I do much in my professional life with a global corporation.

This class seemed especially daunting to me. A 9-page syllabus, distributed in plenty of time for me to obsess over it, proved anxiety-inducing. Using content analysis and research methods to understand media portrayal? Did I know how to do that? Would I have enough original thought to earn a participation grade? What the heck is Blackboard/Vista?

Fortunately, the first class was lively and engaging enough to distract me from (most of) my concerns. It was helpful to get an overview of the course, and the initial discussions proved I could keep pace with the rest of the group. I was at least halfway smart enough to get through this.

I also started to see some of the first glimmers and insights that will lead me to a bigger picture of this topic. For example, what the media leaves out or chooses not to cover can shape viewers perception just as much as what's included in the broadcast. When stories portray people in a stereotypical way, those segments serve to reinforce and perpetuate those labels. And very rarely are these tactics intentional or malicious on the part of the media—in fact, they may just reflect convenience, logistics or short deadlines.

But it made me think that we—writers, reporters and producers—have a responsibility to strive for balance. We should recognize that our words and images shape the way people think and see the world. And it is, if we look, a world rich in opportunity to portray that balance. For every young black man arrested for murder, there are four or five (or twenty) earning their Eagle Scout rank. Only when we start telling all these stories will we live up to our edict to really “tell the truth.”