I’ll have my racism with a side of stereotypes, please!

Racism always existed from the times when people enslaved one another. It grew from a means of differentiation into a means of generalization. Racism categorized people based on their physical features and common culture. But now it has evolved into a method in which people group negatively associate a group of people with bad habits or traits.

When someone sees racist’s comments being spread, I just see more ignorance. People are commonly associating Asians with social inadequacy and academic vigor. “If he is Asian, he must be…” Even if some stereotypes my night were offensive by itself, Generalizing a race, or group is. It is not politically correct, since people are assuming facts and applying preconceived notions to a person prior to their meeting. Stereotypes do not define a person

Racism through stereotyping is prevalent in mainstream media as well. For some reason, society finds it acceptable to have crude humor in movies and tv shows, yet when it is discussed among casual conversation. Racist comments become taboo. Also what allows one race from discriminating on its own? How is that any less wrong than any other race discriminating him or her? Discrimination is wrong on all levels. It should not be tolerated.

In a society that is trained to make guesses and jump to conclusions, I automatically assumed that David Henry Hwang’s Chinglish was about immigrants with broken English. It is nothing like it’s title. The production is one-quarter in mandarin. It breaks any preconceived ideas about the Chinese. His production costs is about $3.5 million to which is high and especially of a commercial. It’s risky bet on something that may be lucrative.  Hwang’s production contradicts any assumptions that one might arrive at about plays performed in a foreign language.

Mankind doesn’t look outward for opportunities to aid the races in need. Rather, man prefers to degrade and laugh at others and repeat such a vicious cycle of discrimination that needlessly exists.

On the Bleakness of the Guggenheim

This morning I accompanied some of my peers on a journey to the Guggenheim located on E 88th St. & 5th Ave in the the Upper East Side. Everything went swimmingly. We got to breeze through the line of tourists and flash our Macaulay Honors IDs and be on our way. However, once we got past the front desk, we encountered a great disappointment. The halls were all covered up with thick white paper so we were not able to see into the middle, the spiral itself. Not only is it architecturally significant and breath-taking, it’s part of the whole experience of walking up the museum. We’re supposed to be able to see across the spiral and appreciate the whole experience.

The first exhibit was Hans-Peter Feldmann’s Hugo Boss Prize 2010, which is essential $100,000 in one dollar denominations, nailed onto the walls and columns of the entire room. Seeing that amount of cash plastered on the walls really puts the sum of money into perspective. I looked upon others who were in shock and awe, with the similar thoughts in their head.

Out of the exhibits that were open, I appreciated a painting called Several Circles the most. At first look, I thought it embodied the universe. The painting seemed to depict plants orbiting around an eclipsing sun. The various shades of black and grey in the background evoke the feeling of the cosmos.

Several Circles By Vasily Kadinsky (via www.guggenheim.org)

On Culture Lost and Found in the Metropolitan Museum

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YAAc_yTxpA

As I entered the exhibit of the African Tribal Art. There were so many ominous sculptures hovering over me. They were so outlandish and extraterrestrial. One sculpture had large ears and hollow eyes, I recall reading folk stories about various character with powers. It seems like these notable story characters are manifested in the sculptures. The wooden sculptures reflect some of the animal mimicry present in the African artwork.Rodent-like features are so prominent on these statues. I was actually curious to see if there was a common theme among the statues. I could not help but feel like part of a story. These statues seemed to be captured amongst their state of interaction with their mouth hanging wide open mid-speech.

The masks represent different emotion. Some in disappointment, some in concern, and lastly one in joy. The concentric circles in their eyes exude an idle passivity.

On Dreams Deferred

David Mills inspired me to write and relive life poetically after his performance. Mills led the Macaulay Honors students on a journey to Harlem and back as he stepped into the shoes of Langston Hughes.

At the Macaulay Honors building, Mills told us stories about a kid who tries to steal an old woman’s purse. She catches the young perp and stops him in his tracks. The kid, scared and apprehensive tries to put up a wall while the old lady tries to instill some values and morals in the rascal.

Mills enthusiastically and tirelessly reenacts the story about a cheating minister who would trick all the church-goers out of their money by pulling stunts. Albeit the stories seemed a bit outlandish and extraordinarily creative, I felt that the message conveyed in those anecdotes were powerful. The connection that was drawn with the audience was a intimate yet strong one. In each story, he tugged on heartstrings with various emotions. I felt as if I were living during those times in Harlem.

David Mills understands human sentiment so well. I wish to learn poetry from him due to his eloquence, his charisma, and his charm in his performance and emotion. When I asked whether he drew inspiration from any poets, such as Saul Williams, he suggest that it was perhaps him who inspired Saul Williams, a slam poet from a new generation of poetry.

I have written  my own poem drawn from the inspiration from that performance dedicated to Langston Hughes:

My Musings for IDC

My teacher gave me an assignment

She told me here is a site. Do what you will.

What is my will? What will I do?

Will I see what I wish to see by the windowsill

and speak the language of  the Georgian Store owner

who sells the dollar slices?

Will I inhale the high ambience

of the hipsters outside Hotel Washington?

Do I take time out of the clocktower that presides by Gramercy Park

and spend it jaywalking past cabbie that think yellow means “GO!”

Do I penetrate the walls of Credit Suisse only to find no credibility there.

Just men with padded shoulders and bank accounts.

Will I own the halls in which I swim in,

become the biggest fish?

Will I become the man I want to be,

the answer is, I wish.

Cooking @ Pier 60

Cooking @ Pier 60

Cooking at Pier 60 for the Emperor's Banquet

#PinkiesUp

Buying Macarons for my sister at Laduree (69th St. & Madison Ave.), why does everyone buying macarons feel obligated to speak French?