Adam Ellick was frustrated during his stay in Jackson Heights – disappointed by the unfruitfulness of his search for a taste of bona fide ethnic culture. He decided that the neighborhood’s authenticity destined him for outsider status, but, reading the article, it quickly becomes obvious that the fault is with his voyeuristic approach. His determined search for an “authentic” ethnic experience suggests to me that he suffers from a weakness of identity in the large and homogeneous melting pot of urban American culture that has long lost contact with its roots and is dictated symbolically through consumer media. Ellick seems to believe in some sort of cultural manifest destiny, under which cosmopolitan whites who are tired of washed out, constructed culture have a right to explore and participate in ethnic cultures. There may even be a grand narrative in the back of his mind that, since American culture is so inclusive of ethnic groups, cultural-identity-starved Americans like himself should be able to participate in the various cultures that have retained their roots. He sees these ethnic societies, which retain their roots precisely through exclusivity and conservation, as “exotic” mysteries that he must pry into, and is surprised when his obvious cultural differences (think jogging) alienate him from the communities. He mentions that he had decided to move to Jackson heights because he had been abroad for six years and missed the exotica; well, in his travels, his approach would have been totally acceptable and understandable – outside the US he was in the minority as a cosmopolitan American. In Queens, however, where groups struggle to maintain their ethnic identities against an onslaught of constructed American culture, Ellick’s exoticizing attitude of entitlement seems unjustifiable to me.
As a first-generation immigrant, having arrived to the States from Russia at the age of 10, I have personally experienced cultural exclusion, though, unlike Ellick, I was an ethnic person excluded by the host culture. I had visited the states before, and prior exposure had prepared me to assimilate very quickly, and I gotten along very well my first two years in America. I was placed in a shockingly different cultural context, however, when we moved from Houston, TX to Bay Ridge/Fort Hamilton, Brooklyn and I started going to the local public school. This was 7th grade, and I had long been assimilated and spoke English as well as anyone, but I was totally alienated by the gangsta-rap-influenced lower class black/Latino/Italian culture that was predominant in the school. I hadn’t at that point ever felt a need to forcefully construct my identity or modify my image, but my carefree childlike attitude was so condemned by the kids who grew up in this highly constructed culture that I quickly became one of the most hated kids in the school. To save myself, I conformed, attempting to emulate mainstream behavior – changing my image (cutting off my long hair, wearing “proper” clothing brands, etc.), behavior (vocabulary, accent, mannerisms, etc.) and ideals. After this change I was still remembered as an outcast (I was always called a girl because of my hair – after I shaved I was called a military girl), but I had improved my status somewhat and began to have friends. This was perhaps my most powerful collision with cultural exclusion, and it took me years to reverse the hideous personality changes I underwent.
Simon Plutser-Sarno
