The Gallery | the-playbook

Only in the last three years do I now consider myself a voluntary byproduct of education in America, as a conscious participate choosing: what is valuable knowledge, who my mentors will be, making my own decisions and living with the consequences. Education in America is not just based on teaching a particular craft or trade, but founded in the idea of instilling the American philosophy in each of us, the idea of the American dream; how hard work breeds success, the concept that not all of us will be winners but to fight for that dream, fight for a chance of success. This is the narrative that as Americans we all in some way share and adhere to, one that I have allowed to be the duel-impulse driving force behind my pursuit of knowledge.
The American master narrative for me has always existed in two fold. I am first and for most an American; I love my country and strive to improve myself to improve my homeland. At the same time, I am American with a hyphen, I am American with African in front; with that hyphen there is not only a separation of two worlds but also of a psyche, of a perspective. As an African-American, I still love America, but I am not infatuated with America; I see the flaws, the prejudges, the poverty, and the propaganda all at eye level. I strive to better myself because I strive to be better than the stereotypes set before me as my options; I strive to improve my country by making it aware of its own short comings. I do not simply toil to improve myself and to strengthen America’s strong points, but I work to increase my knowledge, to refurbish the weaknesses and cleanse decay that exist in its foundation.
Through the lens of the master narrative I am fueled in my pursuit of greatness, it is my flame; but through my own two eyes that same narrative is the antagonist that reminds me that my “American” title has a hyphen in front, a separation; with that understanding I accept that my education under that narrative should always be separate from the self-knowledge gained through my own eyes. Whereas the American dream is the skeletal blueprint that stabilizes and grounds me in my pursuit of intellectual knowledge; the relationships I’ve made, the places I’ve been, the memories I’ve created, the faith I cling to and the cultures I embrace, these are the parts of me I must learn to balance with that which I am founded in.
In American education individuals are challenged to both expand and combine their ideas and opinions with the philosophies of those that preceded them, or to assimilate and simply accept the curriculum. My goal as a Georgetown scholar, or as the pupil of the master narrative, is to learn, retain, and apply what I have learned to achieve my goals, and ultimately success. While my goal as a person, separate from the narrative, is to take the same knowledge and determine what parts of it is valuable concerning the enrichment of me and my growth as an individual, attempting to challenge and reform the narrative entirely. I study each day to master the Arab language in order to make myself marketable, as an asset to my country and as a factor in its improvement. At the same time, I study the language and culture to gain perspective and to dissolve my ignorance of the unknown and unfamiliar, to help expand my own concepts by absorbing those of a philosophy that intrigues me and in some ways contradicts what I know and what is promote by the American narrative. The Georgetown scholar in me tells me instinctively to find evidence that will refute these contradictions between our cultures; yet another part of me, the narrative conscious side, desires to understand more and to integrate what I have learned and use it as a tool to change that what I once believed.
The first goal, the narrative friendly aspiration is one that is external, more extrinsic, and arguably easier to understand and achieve; unlike my second desire, which forces me to suppress various parts of my psyche in order to accept the new ideas and knowledge. At times I can recall myself suppressing adolescent “truths” in the acceptance of new philosophies borne from the minds of those most experienced and versed; trading culture norms taught to me by my father and mother for the theories of Socrates and Locke and then ultimately attempting to blend the concepts of past and present together.
American education is not only in the classroom, but also occurs in media exposure, and like the traditional education, it works within the master narrative. American education forces us all to make decision that change who we are and who we will be. I have been forced to at times choose one side or the other; to dissolve beliefs and as a result dissolve relationships just the same. Through the eye of the master lens and the socialization of media I have been conditioned to recognize people based on their appearance, dialect, and sex, and at times let that determine our initial relationship; to see skin color similar to my own and already buy into a stereotype of this person that I had been conditioned to accept. Under this lens I would assume the worse about my own people because of the image promoted in the media (social education) as being such. Yet at the same time, being in some ways separated from that socialization, through my own culture I find that I am no longer forced to choose sides based on these external attributes but through my separation I can traverse different social classes, without pledging to any social assemblage. I am free to learn from all groups, to take what I see as valuable knowledge and reject that which restrains me. With such freedom and refusal to adhere to the narrative I am able to take my American education and be mentored by not just one individual of a certain group or class, but have multiple mentors in multiple disciplines from multiple backgrounds.
The first two lesson I truly learned as American were taught to me by my father: one “living here you have the potential to achieve anything”, and two, “that nothing is ever going to be handed to you, you have to earn it.” The first lessons I learned as an African American also came from my dad “if you truly want to achieve anything, you have to learn to play the game [of the master narrative] their way, until you can rewrite the rules.” These where the first lessons of my life that I remember; not that two plus two equals four, but these three rules as my first introduction into American education. American education for me has been the hand that feeds me, but also the fist that tries to knock me down; the voice saying, “be all you can be” and also the doubtful whispers that push me forward. American education has been less about the authors and theories I’ve obtained over the years, and much more about “self-knowledge” and an acceptance of my dual perspective that, while separate, must co-exist in order for me to achieve success.

Duel Edge Pen

Most can agree that throughout the world there exist groups’ social, ethnicity and races whose cultures encumbrance the “identity” of the countries they call home. In Britain, there is mostly an Anglo-Saxon white- English majority whose taste in food, music and language define the land. The same can be said for the United States, that it is a mostly Anglo-Saxon white, Christian society, where the Caucasian majority influences and dictates every cultural aspect of the country and determines the norms. Yet, unlike most countries, the United States, with its massive influx of minority groups, has a growing count of sub-cultures whose people attempt to balance out there existence within the mass white culture.
For each individual the struggle is essentially different; Gregory Djanikian explores these dynamics in his free verse poem, “Immigrant Picnic”, where the speaker and his family attempt to embrace American culture by enjoying 4th of July celebration together. Djanikian expresses the difficulty of balancing the two cultures, where the speaker’s struggles internally with his lack of understanding of a heritage that he loves. The author suggests that the speaker, and all people who struggle between to identities, go through a period of split consciousness; in the case of the speaker he struggles with an artificial culture that slowly assimilates into his reality and a heritage that attempting to “crowding out” that which isn’t real. To demonstrate the internal conflict in the poem, the author expresses a clear stylistic split in the poem. The first portion has no life or energy to it, and the second half overflows with repressed emotion.
There is a clear distinction between the language within the first half of the poem and the second half. In the first few stanzas the speaker describes the setting of the poem and his actions, all of which is done with no uses of adjectives, simply sounding like a checklist of “all things American”, “…I’m grilling, I’ve got my apron, I’ve got potato salad, macaroni, relish, I’ve got a hat shaped like the state of Pennsylvania.”, in essence, I’m doing everything that makes me American, everything that fits into the mass culture. The speaker turns his celebration of American culture, into an itinerary; even the use of commas adds to the, checklist feel of the stanza. The style of the lines illustrates how the American ideal is nothing more than an artificial portrayal of what the speaker thinks his culture is. The speaker seems to want nothing more than to portray a perfect portrait of patriotism, and to convince not only his family, but himself that they are all Americans. His obsession with being a part of the mass culture seems to consume him and in his efforts he loses personality, and to his mother he looks like a, “chicken with his head loose”.
While the first portion of the poem the speaker expresses his patriotism and clear understanding of what is “American” the latter half of the poem, the struggle for understanding of his own heritage is apparent. After his attempted dialogue with his mother about American phrases, he slips into a monologue about Egypt and seas of Port Said. He describes the fish and birds of the Nile as, “unrepentantly elusive, wild”, as things that can‘t be placed into a box, or category be labeled as “American” or “Egyptian”. This one line exemplifies the true desires of the speaker; in this line he finds a kinship with these animals, describing them so vividly; he sees a freedom in these creatures that he desires him, to be more than a category and not feel any guilty for not being par to the mass or the minority. The change in his language and use of longer fluid sentences illustrates Djanikian’s attempt to make the speakers monologue seem less like thoughts and a list of facts, and more like a rush of feelings, escaping through his conscious mind.
The author sets up an irony where between dialogues with his family about correct American phrases, and proper terminology, the speaker finds himself slipping into vivid monologues about an Egyptian sub-culture. The irony comes from the simple fact that the day in which this happens is a day solely based on the formation of America. In this way Djanikian alludes to how deeply rooted heritage is and how when sub-culture come in conflict with mass culture it causes confusion, for the speaker, the confusion lie with his inability to grasp an understanding of his own roots. If nowhere else, this is made clear in the last stanza; the speaker takes his uncles incorrect use of “go nuts” and begins thinking about, “pistachios in the Sinai burgeoning without end”, and “pecans in the South”. The speaker’s description of the flavors of these Egyptian foods, suddenly in his mouth, “wordless, confusing, crowding out everything else, act as a metaphor the his already confused mind. It becomes clear that in the end he can no longer resist this sub-culture; it begins to push all that he knows aside.
The speaker’s realization only occurs only once he begins to interact with his family, the family who is ignorant to their own blatant lack of understanding of American culture (food and language). With more interactions with the family the speaker finds himself remembering a culture that he pushed away, in an attempt to be American. As the poem continues and the families improper use of idioms increase, the speakers frustrations rise as well, where in the tenth stanza he gives up on his family, and throws his hands up in surrender; as if surrendering to the heritage his suppressed.
Djanikian exposes the difficulty of growing up in a life between two worlds, one the speakers see as being a shameful reality, the other a false truth, both struggling to gain superiority in his mind and heart. The author eludes to the danger it this, where what is artificial, can be perceived as real. Once that occurs reality and self can be lost.

Title. Double click me.

In India Arie’s single, “I am Not My Hair”, she takes the idea of beauty and success associated with straight “Barbie like” hair, and questions the validity of this interpretation of success. She also bringing to light the issue within African American culture; that black hair is not “good hair” and must be changed to be “good hair”, thus black isn’t good, and you must change to be and internalize the everyday images within pop culture, and capitalist society. While at the same time she avoids the trap that writers, Michele Wallace (invisibility Blues) and Bell Hooks (Yearning), presenting “criticism [that] take the form of talking about “good” or “bad” images… [representing] fact and suggests that there is one accurate way to represent a person from a minority group…” (Frecceno, 15), and is able to promote her ideas as alternatives and not critiques. In doing so India Arie is able to assert her point of view and at the same time concedes to the existing ideas without offending. Her strategy also offers those that consider her argument something concrete to compare it to. Not only that, but by not criticizing the existing standard she does not alienate any one group.
India’s first verse depicts a time line of early life as an African American girl trying to identify herself within her culture, changing her hair with unnatural chemicals to make it more appealing to pop culture’s idea of beauty and success[1]. In doing so she destroys her hair. This represents not only the stages of identity as an adolescent but the idea that, in her attempt to achieve acceptance and, “Barbie like” beauty she destroys herself for a standard she cannot maintain. In doing so she also destroys her identity as a black woman, all in the pursuit of acceptance in a white culture that she could never fully be a part of. She forsakes a trait that is unique to her people, her community, in the pursuit of conformity, assimilation into the mass culture. She goes on to sing about how, as she became older she realized “it was time to change her life, and become the woman that was inside”, and thus cut all her hair off. This line offers an interesting parallel to the previous one about her hair falling out. While the first time she lost her hair it was involuntary and was purely an external attempt at acceptance, this time, her shaving her head was a conscious decision, one that was meant to inspire, self-observation and acceptance of her internal beauty.
India at this point has decided to “look within”, for what she will become and not externally. She is rejecting the, “social formation constructs…” that exist, and forcing us to realizing that their existence is cyclical and illogical, that these images work, “…not by persuading us with rational argument to believe that something is true, but by manufacturing our consent to certain ideas by representing them as self- evident reality” (Freccero, 18). An example being, the long straight hair of a plastic Barbie doll is beautiful because social media promotes it as fact, and presents it as the only choice, no matter what race, career, or lifestyle of Barbie, her hair never changed. Through Barbie’s many transitions over the years, to cowgirl, doctor, pilot, and even astronaut, her outfits and accessories change, but her hair remains a constant, and reminder, that no matter what career, this is the only real sign of success and beauty, long straight hair.
India Arie’s point is reinforced with the second verse , particularly in the second line; she speaks directly to African American women and the internalized idea that “nappy” hair is slave hair, and thus cannot be seen as beautiful [2]. With that, the idea within society is that to be liberated from this “slavery” we must accept what pop culture offers as the narrow scape of what freedom is. The chance of freedom comes from becoming a part of the culture of those who dictate what freedom and beauty are within society. In rejecting the natural beauty of black hair, these women are rejecting parts of themselves, parts of what makes them free in the first place. These women become willing slaves to illogical social norms. But India offers other solutions, for liberation. And also a concession, that having straight hair is also an option as long as you recognize that your hair is only as important as you make it, but it doesn’t define you; in that sense, neither do the pop cultural ideas of beauty, but what defines you are internal characteristics such as loyalty, integrity, and creativity.
The most prominent message within the song comes from the chorus, these lines repeat throughout, reaffirming her break off from the rules and roles within pop culture, the main being the expectation of her as a successful artist within the industry; as mentioned the expectation to be half naked and using sex appeal to sell records [3]. She argues that the freedom and liberation found by women, from being “sexy” and expressing their sexual desires is not the only source of freedom for women. India states that, in being more than her hair, she is not a symbol of success and liberation through sex, but that she is triumphant because she has found freedom without selling herself, she has found freedom and success by, “questioning the ways the institution of our society channels us into narrow corners of liberation” (19), and not accepting “sex sells” as an option.
Within the past century American culture has undergone a great degree of change. The rules over what is acceptable and what is not have been challenged, broken, and redefined over and over again. It is clear that in this cycle of redefining our culture capitalism plays a pivotal role, and at time overshadows the influence of morality. This lack of morality is most clearing seen in the evolution of the music industry and its artists over the past quarter century, especially in the persona of female artist within the pop and hip-hop genre, who objectify themselves as a demonstration of success. These images of sex appeal intertwined with success in the music industry have now translated into lives of everyday people; the idea that looking a certain way in the work place will bring you success has bottle-necked the options available to women of all races.
Yet, within the African American community, these images and ideas have caused subcultural detrition, where these women see themselves as unappealing and unsuccessful unless they embrace the, “Barbie beauty model”. India Arie confronts this mindset with a constructive argument, in her song, “I Am Not My Hair”, where she asserts the natural beauty of all women and the possibility of success separate of sex appeal.

[1]Little girl with the press and curl
Age eight I got a Jheri curl
Thirteen I got a relaxer
I was a source of so much laughter
At fifteen when it all broke off

[2]Good hair means curls and waves
Bad hair means you look like a slave
At the turn of the century
Its time for us to redefine who we be
You can shave it off
Like a South African beauty
Or get in on lock
Like Bob Marley
You can rock it straight
Like Oprah Winfrey
If its not what's on your head

[3]I am not my hair, I am not this skin
I am not you’re your expectations

Idealizing Barbie

Immigrant Eyes