I became involved in this play, "The Conversion of Ka'ahumanu" more so than "Talk Story," and I'm not exactly sure why. Throughout the opening of the play I was hesistant to connect or sympathize with Sybil and Lucy mainly because I'm not a fan of missionary work when it's so black and white...or so focused on Christianizing people because without a Christian God, all are doomed. However, as the story progessed it was really interesting to watch the character development of these two women in particular. I think that Kneubuhl does a great job of showing an almost natural prejudice or an innate "hatred" for anything that is different, even people. Even as Lucy screams out at the "filthy" Pali, I could almost pity her, because as hard as she's trying to be good and working in the light of Christ, she still goes back to her hatred...she "forgets" herself (pg. 194). And though Lucy is a bit of a hypocrit, it echoes back to Lon in "Talk Story" and this idea that even though we want to believe we are good or accepting or "liberal" or Christian, it is very difficult to let go of an almost natural prejudice that at times seems innate and uncontrollable.

I also liked how Kneubuhl did not make it completely about white people hating people of color. In this play, for the first time that I can remember, I've seen both sides of the story. The native people also judged the white women as they came over and even were extremely awful to their own kind, beating them almost to death. It made the situation in my opinion all the more complicated and it made me focus on the individual characters and what they were each saying and doing, rather than grouping the people and then labeling one good and the other bad.

I was saddened at the end by Ka'ahumanu's letting go or her "conversion" but at the same time, it did not seem completely awful. Her final assertions were not bitter or cold, but rather they were simply given with a tone of acceptance. She does not fully give up her past, but seeks to unite the past and the present.

I am excited to discuss this play in class.

Chapter 3

As I read chapter three one thing I found peculiar was the "Heathen Chinee." I guess the descriptions of the Chinese as evil, threatening, "bloodsucking vampires," who are morally inferior and lustful is strange. It's awful, of course, but it's interesting to note that this stereotype (at least in my opinion) has changed drastically today. Today it seems that the Chinese or to broaden the spectrum to "Asians" have a less scary stereotype. I know stereotypes are awful and I feel kind of bad writing this but it was on my mind as I read. Today it seems that when we place Asians into a stereotype (at least in the media or films) they are either incredibly smart and computer geniuses or really good at martial arts. This is still negative, but not quite to the extreme as calling a Chinese worker a vampire.

Another thing that bothered me slightly was on page 85 when Takaki said that the Central Pacific Railroad was a Chinese achievement. I don't know that much about this process and the exact figures of who actually built the railroad, but this statement of Takaki's makes it seem as if no one else was involved in this "achievement." I think we briefly touched on this in class.

Other than that, I dont have much to say...I'm excited to discuss this in class.

Illusions

"Illusion and I
Travelled over the ocean "(pg. 74).

For me, these were the most memorable and meaningful lines from this chapter, "Overblown with Hope." So simply, so plainly they state everything that Takaki described about the Asian migration to America over the many, many years.

For me this chapter read almost like a novel or a short story. At times I found myself nearly moved to tears with the personal stories and especially the personal quotes and poetry. Maybe I'm being overly emotional or trying too hard to analyze the literary elements of Takaki's work, however, I can't help but become wrapped up in these people's lives. They went through more than I could ever imagine. They voluntarily left their families and boarded ships to face the storms ahead, both literal and figurative. The women who left to marry men they had never met; the men who sold themselves for work....All of this for some illusion, some "enchanted" (pg. 65) ideal of America and all with a "Hope" that all too often ended in disappointment.

It's strange for me to think that life could be so miserable that anyone would go willingly to a place where so much was unsure. The thought of leaving my family for good is frightening, but then again so is the idea of "sinking into the toilet" (pg. 59) . Perhaps I would give up part of my identity to become a doll of sorts, like the picture-brides.

I suppose, in the end, no matter what you meet, "Hope" keeps you going; belief or faith in the "illusion" or the "dream" keeps you going. I guess it's up to you to decide whether or not that "dream" is worth fighting for...thankfully, I think Takaki thinks it is.

Labels

I won't make my post too complicated. I just wanted to address something we touched on in class Monday: the idea of labeling, which in and of itself is actually quite complicated.

We are all victims of "Labeling" in a sense. I mean it's the first thing that happens to most of us when we are born; we are given a name. As we grow up, we find only more labels, some that we choose and others that we somehow acquire, whether we like it or not.

Growing up for me, my "labels" were not that complicated...or so it would seem. I was white. I had very blonde hair and bright blue eyes. My dad and mom were happily married with steady jobs and we lived comfortably. I'm fortunate I guess, because I can be labeled the "typical, All-American girl!" But of course it's not that simple. Of course being blonde and white does not make you an American. That is such a stupid idea, but for some reason it is somewhat of a stereotype or a far-fetched notion.

I never really felt any discrimination, at least I never worried I would meet it. But that's not to say it does not happen, even to me. For a lame example, I was a work only two weeks ago and one of my co-workers told me she was getting a boob-job, for lack of a more scientific word. She told me that she had everything and she was happy with everything...except for her breasts. She told me that to be a woman, you had to have large breasts. Without them, you couldn't be sexy or attractive or wanted. You couldn't belong.

I don't know why it stung me so much. i mean I almost cried as ridiculous as that is. Clearly the woman was insecure about her ownself, but it DID affect me. I mean I'm by no means a double-D chest size. And in that moment, though my own brain said, "Erin, this is stupid. Boobs don't make you a woman. Boobs don't make you sexy," I still couldn't shake a feeling of hurt and disgust.

I recalled this in class the other day when we were speaking of plastic surgery. I also recalled it when I was reading Talk-Story, when the notions of American Women, White women, blonde women were brought up. I don't really know how to end this post, but that's just what was on my mind. In the end, it is clear that people label or have certain ideas in their minds about the way people should look or act. Labeling, in a sense, is a way of connecting or orienting oneself towards others.

I guess, even though I'm still working on my own self-image, like most people my age, I am proud to say that I will not fall victim to those who try to group me or those who tell me I am not a beautiful woman. Everyone should feel beautiful, sexy, and mostly know that beauty and sexiness come from within...as cliche as that is.

I dont even know...

I'm kind of a stranger...

My name is Erin and I just added this class kind of on a whim. So in that sense, I'm a stranger.

I'm a stranger to this blogging thing...

I'm kind of a stranger to William and Mary, since this is only my second semester here.

But most importantly (and sadly), I'm a stranger to nearly all aspects of Asian culture and history. So in the same way as Takaki points out that Asian-Americans were "strangers from a different shore," I am a stranger too.

I added this class, as I said, on a whim. I'm way behind on my GER's and so if I was at all practical, I would probably be in that linguistics class I dropped or heaven forbid--a math class. But for some reason I was drawn to this one on banner.

I was still hesitant even after I signed up and emailed Francis...my conscience kicking in. "I should be taking a math class," I would think. However, after I read the chapters from last night, I'm amazed that I ever had any doubt at all.

I felt much of what was elaborated in some of the other blog posts. I felt some anger at the lack of Asian American history here in the U.S. At times, I also felt sad and even ashamed that for so long I've blindly accepted people like Thomas Jefferson as brilliant heroes of sorts. It amazed me last night that in only two chapters of Takaki's writings I could become so impassioned and so excited about learning and sharing and rethinking history and art and culture.

And so even though this is kind of a pathetic attempt at a "blog," I am thrilled to be part of this class and I am okay about being a stranger, if only so that I can truly be open to this new experience.

Thanks.