Author: Imaan Malhi

In the face of injustice, how do New Yorkers react? What issues do we respond to? How do we make sure we’re heard? Is unity possible amidst our countless differences? These are just some questions that are proposed and answered in the exhibit Activist New York at the Museum of the City of New York. Activism has always been an important part of NYC’s history, as it is the grounds for many social justice movements, however, this aspect has been largely ignored in art and film set in the city. This exhibit fills that gap by ensuring that ever-evolving problems in history become a part of collective public memory.

Although the exhibit has been on view for ten years, the way it’s designed has allowed for it to be a timeless exhibit, changing how we interact with the past and the present frequently. Fourteen different moments in activism are highlighted at a time, following seven themes: immigration, gender equality, political and civil rights, religious freedom, environmental advocacy, and economic rights.  It is created to be easily taken apart and replaced, which I think emphasizes the perpetual cycle of injustice that occurs in the world. Each issue has its own booth, which takes on a mixed-media approach with the use of artifacts, documents, images, artwork, and interactive videos from both the past and present. I liked the mixed media, feeling it connects to how everyone in NYC is unique and diverse but is able to come together for common goals. The use of media may be overwhelming to look at first, as everything is begging for your attention, however, it really captures the essence of what responding to inequality is like. Visitors are even asked to upload moments of activism as they leave, inspiring future booths and allowing the exhibit to be from the people. 

I enjoyed the exhibit’s exploration of NYC as a home, starting with two signs in conversation with each other. The first sign says “This is stolen Lenape land” from the Queer Liberation March in 2022, which is an actual sign carried during the protest. The sign itself questions what it means to be queer on stolen land, a land that was deemed to have freedoms for all but the native population. Below it is a sign saying “Our Streets,” one of many posters created by homeless men who temporarily relocated from shelters to hotels in the Upper West Side during the first phase of COVID-19. This was a highly contested move, with many people against this use of higher-end hotels, while others thought it best to minimize the impact of the virus. Amidst all this, the men claimed the streets, asserting their presence as human beings. I thought these two pieces engaged in a silent conversation, nodding to displacement and colonization, reflecting the resilience and adaptability of marginalized communities in times of crisis. This invites us to draw connections between different social justice issues, whether it be reclaiming stolen indigenous land or the ongoing debates on how to handle homelessness. It opens the exploration of power dynamics, social activism, and complexities surrounding issues of justice and equality which are presented in other parts of the exhibit.

In the same section, a small suitcase decorated with stamps and letters on it sits in a glass case. This suitcase was also a part of a larger project, this time by the New Sanctuary Coalition, during a July 2018 protest about deportation. The organization, which is dedicated to aiding immigrants facing deportation or detention, prompted activists to pack a 25-pound suitcase for loved ones who were about to get deported. This interactive experience at a protest allowed participants to engage on a personal level with the emotional weight carried by individuals forced removal from their homes, creating a connection between the protestor and the victims.  The letters pasted on the suitcase are copies of letters by constituents of the New Sanctuary Coalition, filled with their stories, demands, and feedback. I think it’s interesting how although the suitcase is meant for someone being sent away, the words written on it are meant for someone completely different. This is just like how oftentimes, those who contest issues are so far from the reality of experiencing them. The suitcase serves as a tangible link between the broader theme of the exhibition and the lived experiences behind it. Its presence invites viewers to reflect on the human aspects of these struggles and underscores the importance of empathy. All three of these pieces contribute to understanding the multifaceted dimensions of advocacy, and allow the viewer to question who has the authority to decide where someone’s home is.

This exhibit stood out to me due to its ability to spark critical engagement because it prompts us to explore issues, dissect them, and explore their intersections. The contested nature of the presented social movements, despite the unity portrayed, serves as a reminder that the city’s struggles persist, shaped by evolving narratives and ongoing debates. I can’t stop thinking about how as always, we’re curating our history by choosing what should be shared in institutions like this, and excluding the ones that don’t meet certain standards. Depending on who’s in power, the narrative is changed and told differently. Just as the exhibit did, we need to incorporate diverse voices and perspectives in shaping a more inclusive and accurate portrayal of our shared history.

Lauren Yee’s play “Ching Chong Chinaman,” utilizes comedy, specifically dark humor, to highlight the experiences of a Chinese family who’s been living in America for generations. One of the family conflicts that raises larger issues related to the immigrant experience is the tension between assimilation and cultural identity within the Wong family. The family seems to have lost their cultural identity due to extreme assimilation, yet they grasp at a chance to understand their roots. This conflict can be seen as a reflection of the broader struggle of many immigrants who want to achieve the American Dream, and feel like being “American” is a part of that. 

The Wong family in the play intentionally defies stereotypes of Chinese Americans, which is a direct response to the pressures and expectations they face as immigrants. Throughout the text, I was reminded of the phenomenon of the “model minority,” which is prominently associated with Asian Americans. According to the American Psychological Association, this means Asian Americans are characterized as being “…successful, well-educated, prosperous and healthy—resulting in a lack of scientific research on the effects of racism, discrimination and marginalization on their psychological and physical health.” (American Psychological Association.)

This myth is particularly manifested in Desdemona, the daughter in the play, who both conforms to and rejects traditional expectations of her Chinese identity. Desdemona aspires to get into Princeton, and is really well qualified. In Scene 7, she says “Mom, I’m an Asian American female with a 2340 and a 4.42 GPA at an elite public high school. That’s like the worst thing in the world. Nobody’s going to want me.” (Yee, 29.) To the average reader, she must sound spoiled, as she has a status that most students struggle to achieve. However, she has a personal struggle of ego and recognizing her success. Throughout the play, Yee shows her trying to find ways to set herself apart, going to extremes to reject the average Chinese identity, eventually doing an ancestry test. This desire to break free from stereotypes and embrace individuality is a personal struggle many children of immigrants face, leading to problems such as imposter syndrome.

In the play, the Wong family’s irreverent and satirical approach to their identity mirrors the broader issues faced by Asian Americans and other minority groups.The tension between cultural identity and the pursuit of the American Dream raises questions about acceptance, success, and dynamics of cultural diversity in contemporary society. The concept of the “model minority” is harmful as it completely erases the struggles and pushes immigrant children to extreme measures in their pursuit to succeed. This prompts us to consider the broader issues of identity, representation, and the toxic culture of the “American Dream,” transcending the specific experiences of this particular family in the play.

Citations 

Sliwa, Jim. “Asian Americans: Model or marginalized minority?” American Psychological Association. August 19, 2021. https://www.apa.org/news/press/releases/2021/08/asian-americans-model-marginalized

Yee, Lauren. Ching Chong Chinaman. Samuel French, 2011.

The documentary Flee by Jonas Poher Rasmussen is the real story of a refugee, Amin Nawabi, who unravels his story and experiences for the first time. The usage of language, mixed media, color, interweaving the past and present and other choices makes the story extremely profound. Rasmussen effectively makes the narrative a personal experience alongside bringing awareness to the issues refugees go through and how they leave a permanent impact on their identity and wellbeing. Two tools that I found really intriguing and effective in the documentary were the incorporation of language as well as the use of mixed media.

Rasmussen chose to make the documentary multilingual and incorporated languages such as Russian, Spanish, Dari, and English to show the diversity of cultural experiences Amin was exposed to growing up. To me it served as a contrast, because many people enjoy studying and immersing themselves in different cultures and languages, and go to the same places Amin went to in order to experience the culture of a place. However, Amin was not able to appreciate the diversity and culture around him because he had bigger issues to deal with. At the beginning of the documentary, when he was reading an old diary and couldn’t read in his own language was heartbreaking, because in a way, being immersed in different cultures has made his roots distant. However, this choice helps the viewer understand that refugees have identities that come from a  multitude of places, which manifest through language, food, and other parts of culture. Additionally, using audio from interviews rather than having Amin or someone else simply narrate the story is powerful. I really enjoyed it because it makes the piece more conversational and raw, and allows the viewer to fully understand Amin’s relationship with his past and present. 

The story is told in a somewhat sequential order, as the film blends past experiences with the present, creating a complex structure. It’s also a composition of the news, recordings from the time, and animation. I wasn’t expecting this approach, but I was even more surprised at how smooth the transitions between the mediums were. Although all the mediums were very different, they worked together to seamlessly create a timeline and solidify the events in the viewer’s head. I associate animation with more fun purposes, such as children’s shows, and the choice of using that medium to convey such a deep message is what makes it more emotional. The usage of news and real footage adds a sense of harsh reality, and also generalizes the story to all refugees, rather than the story of one. Amin shares that “You grow up, you grow up way too fast” (1:21:25) when you go through experiences like this, and I understood the usage of mixed media to show how his childhood was consistently disrupted. Within animation, the choice of using black and white, and less distinct shapes in emotional and traumatic scenes represents how he’s uncovering a part of himself that he has kept hidden deep down, so far back that the details are fuzzy. Some examples of this are when his dad gets taken away, when he is a part of human trafficking in Russia, and when he is in a fight with his ex boyfriend, who threatens to report him. This feature also makes the story more generalized to all refugees, because almost all of them have gone through these traumatic events.

Aside from telling the story of refugees, the documentary also uncovers the faults within systems in place, such as people having to resort to human trafficking, the filth and dirt in the abandoned building they had to stay at, Amin getting an Iranian communicator in Denmark so there was miscommunication, and that the only way to get asylum was to lie about his family being dead. Although this was all upsetting, the film does have positives. Amin shares that “Getting out of Russia was a tremendous gift, I got a life” (56:08), and the film concludes with him finally sharing the burden of his story, accepting his identity, being successful in his career and in his relationship, and finally getting a home. The decision to end on a positive note leaves the audience hopeful and inquisitive, which is really powerful.

After reading both the first chapter of On Photography by Susan Sontag and Elena Martinique’s “When Staged Photography Becomes Art” I feel like photographs always reveal something, regardless of if they were meticulously composed or if they were “natural.”

Sontag’s essay includes various ways photographs can reveal, and one way is by giving us a path to the past. Photographs freeze moments in time, allowing viewers to access and engage with those moments anytime they want. In this sense, photographs reveal a different kind of reality, presenting the past in a tangible form that can be revisited and shared with others. They reflect the values, norms, and ideologies of the society in which they were taken in, so they have the capacity to serve as historical documents, offering insights into the context in which they were produced. Martinique adds onto this notion, sharing how although some photographs throughout history have been staged, they are still able to convey “the events, environments or emotions” of the time they were taken in.

Sontag also shares, “Photographs furnish evidence. Something we hear about, but doubt, seems proven when we’re shown a photograph of it” (Sontag, 12.) This underscores the power of photographs to reveal the visual truth of the world, because people believe much more than what they hear. I can’t think of a historical example, however through more advanced photographs, we’ve discovered new kinds of stars are able to determine the position of different planets, and more. At the same time, however, Martinique argues that photographs are selective, because they frame and isolate elements within a limited visual field. Some may argue that that creates a superficial sense of reality, and hides authenticity. However, this just makes photography equivalent to any other form of art. There is a reason why photographers choose to conceal certain things, and by analyzing that, we learn more about them and the time period they lived in than if all pictures were family portraits. Martinique herself asserts that we should understand photographs “as we read the world around us… [one] full of uses, values and meanings.”

Essentially, photographs are selective by nature as they capture not only events and environments but also emotions and values. They are, as both authors propose, a medium to be read and interpreted, whether staged or spontaneous.

I believe cultural heritage refers to the embodiment of peoples’ collective memories and sense of self. It’s both the history of a group of people from a certain region alongside their traditions, values, and language. Elena Franchi shares the same sentiment in the article, “What is Cultural Heritage?,” when she says “Cultural heritage implies a shared bond, our belonging to a community.” She emphasizes that through our involvement in culture, we establish connections with one another, which can extend even outside our own nationalities and ethnicities. 

One of the key themes that stood out to me in the article is how recognizing different cultures is all about celebrating diversity. Since different cultures around the world have their unique heritage, if we take the time to learn more about it, we can understand individual peoples’ history and values in order to create a welcoming and safe environment. Diversity also comes in the form of sharing ideas, which is common with cultures across the world. An example Franchi shares in her article about cultures mixing is through a tangible object, the Mona Lisa, which was created by an Italian artist but is on view in France. This is due to the fact that Leonardo Da Vinci worked for the king of France and brought his art with him, where it ended up in the royal collections and a part of a new community.

In the same way, my Pakistani culture mixes with my American culture in my identity through both tangible and intangible means. For example, I speak English, Urdu and Punjabi. I celebrate both the Fourth of July and Eid. I own Western clothing and cultural clothing. Just like the Mona Lisa is a part of both Italian culture and French culture because of how it moved and influenced those around it, I am the same. With my experience, I think cultural heritage has helped me appreciate who I am by allowing me to connect not only with my family history and traditions but also with those around me in school. 

I find it really interesting to see the various ways people choose to express themselves depending on their culture. Since cultural heritage is a mix between the past and present, it is not static and influenced by numerous factors. In my family, one way our cultural heritage changed was when my great grandfather converted to Islam. This changed the way he handled his business, his family, and basically his entire lifestyle. Although my family recognizes our history as Sikhs, we appreciate how our heritage changed, and one way I represent that is by wearing the hijab.

Ultimately, cultural heritage is a reflection of the values and history of a society, which are ever changing but allow us to acknowledge different aspects of our identities and the identities of those around us. It’s something that we should continue to appreciate and protect amidst the different events, good and bad, which are happening in the world.