reading when i can

A collection of words from books I've read, along with my ramblings.

[smokefalls]

Diaspora has the agency to remake culture and tradition, just like those in the homeland.

Jane Shi, "Reimagining the Autistic Mother Tongue" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

Names are complicated. They’re sacred and beautiful. And they’re also hidden away, stolen, forced on a person, made up, and subject to change.

Jane Shi, "Reimagining the Autistic Mother Tongue" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

We must define care, love, and intimacy for ourselves outside of capitalist logic and abandon the grammar of patriarchy. I believe love requires care, but care does not require love. You can care for someone or be caring, but that does not mean you are loving. Like bell hooks, I view care and care ethics as something we do and show praxis. I am not invested in making people love each other. My care ethic says I do not need to love you, and I don’t exactly need to know you. Still, I understand our fundamental interdependence, and I am clear about what the stakes against capitalism and patriarchy are.

Monaye Johnson, "A Black Feminist Perspective on the Politics of Care" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

When I use the word “love,” I do not mean agape or any Christian-based idea pushing us to love our enemies. I mean a love and care ethic rooted in Black feminist principles—it acknowledges that the world is awful and wants you to hate yourself and Blackness. Still, you instead practice refusal of patriarchy, capitalism, and white supremacy.

Monaye Johnson, "A Black Feminist Perspective on the Politics of Care" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

Pain as a uniting force can be useful. It has the power to bring people into the struggle. When we are able to name the harms against us, we can then band together to protect ourselves against them. Our disappointment, grief, and righteous anger drives us to fight back and to imagine a better world in which we can thrive. But more and more I’ve found myself curious about the opposite: How can we unite based on our shared love, joy, and humanity?

TD Tso, "Finding Solidarity and Survival Within a Transnational, Intergenerational Zoom Dance Party" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

There is a conscious choice in aligning yourself as part of a larger group beyond the prebuilt identifiers offered to you—like ones built on race, nationality, ethnicity, religion. To claim an identity built on solidarities requires a larger view outside of oneself and interrogates the functions of “identity.”

Julie Ae Kim, "Meditations on Black/Asian Locations" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

The notion of going beyond gilded cages is both about real cages—jails, prisons, detention centers, foster homes, psych wards—and the glittering lies used to weld them. It is also about the metaphorical cages: the lackluster politics of representation, fantasies of multiracial unity, and callous dismissals of past failure, which degrade our humility and infuse our organizing with self-interest. By rejecting these false solutions, engaging in cross-border struggles, and creating necessary antiviolence resources within our communities, we can destroy the power relations that entrench injustice and oppression.

Mon M., "Beyond Gilded Cages: South Asians for Abolition" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

I think it’s hard to have solidarity if you don’t really know what’s going on with people in other places. Having an international perspective is critical to doing accountable political work. It’s very challenging for us who live here in the belly of the beast, because the United States is the root of so many problems globally. The US has a lot of blood on its hands. Even as we speak, there are undeclared wars in many different places. There’s a history of exploitation and imperialism that cannot be justified. So, it takes a lot for us here, even as people of color, to be able to be accountable across borders and to take a back seat sometimes because we don’t know everything.

Barbara Smith (interviewed by the Editors), "Revisiting a Press of Our Own" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

Being in solidarity means we have a chance at survival. In our current global climate of divisiveness, border fascism, extractive capitalism, and land grabs, solidarity across all our differences is a necessity for life and the future of our planet.

Pratibha Parmar (interviewed by Jaimee A. Swift), "Our Solidarity Is a Lifeline" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

If white, as it has been historically, is the top of the racial hierarchy in America, and black, historically, is the bottom, will Asians assume the place of the racial middle? The role of the racial middle is a critical one. It can reinforce white supremacy if the middle deludes itself into thinking it can be just like white if it tries hard enough. Conversely, the middle can dismantle white supremacy if it refuses to be the middle, if it refuses to buy into racial hierarchy, and if it refuses to abandon communities of black and brown people, choosing instead to forge alliances with them. “We will not be used” is a plea to Asian Americans to think about the ways in which our communities are particularly susceptible to playing the worst version of the racial bourgeoisie role.

Mari Matsuda, "We Will Not Be Used" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

What is particularly pernicious about the mutual misunderstanding approach is it recognizes Black suffering only to throw it in Black people’s faces. That is, the structuring logic of the mutual misunderstanding framework requires the recognition of anti-Blackness and to a certain degree, of slavery. But the mutual misunderstanding framework simultaneously suggests Black people protesting their mistreatment are perpetrators of racism against non-Black people of color. Racial power, then, is reduced to stereotypes and not considered in terms of who is in the structural position to determine or participate in the captivity or freedom of another group. This, of course, is a variation of the “reverse racism” claim.

Tamara K. Nopper, "On Anti-Black Terror, Captivity, and Black-Korean Conflict" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

When Asians internalize and perpetuate anti-Black racism and violence, we are reifying our complicity and driving a deeper wedge between our communities.

TD Tso, "Nail Salon Brawls and Boycotts: Unpacking the Black-Asian Conflict in America" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

Ableism is mutually dependent on and inclusive of all other oppressions—in constant conversation with one another, continuously forming, informing, and influencing the power of the other, while re/defining the identities of those affected by said oppression.

Talila A. Lewis, "Understanding Disability, Ableism, and Incarceration More Expansively" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

In its simplest terms, ableism is the categorization and valuation of a bodymind, behavior, characteristic, or community as inferior or superior, unworthy or worthy, useless or useful, normative or deviant. In the united states context, these valuations are in/formed through the application of white supremacist, settler-colonial, cis-heteropatriarchal, capitalist ideas about race, ethnicity, dis/ability, gender, re/productivity, criminality, civility, intelligence, fitness, beauty, birth/living place, etc. In other words, our identities and our purported values are both a function and byproduct of ableism.

Talila A. Lewis, "Understanding Disability, Ableism, and Incarceration More Expansively" from We Are Each Other's Liberation: Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities (edited by Rachel Kuo, Jaimee A. Swift, and TD Tso)

[smokefalls]

Title: In Limbo Author: Deb JJ Lee Publication Year: 2023 Publisher: First Second Genre: nonfiction, memoir, graphic novel, YA

Lee did a wonderful job revealing the raw emotions that came with growing up in a Korean immigrant family in the United States in their graphic memoir, In Limbo. I thought the way they captured every person’s reactions and emotions was done well, along with the art style as a whole being incredibly distinct. What I especially appreciated was the heavy integration of Konglish throughout their memoir. I realize this may frustrate some readers who don’t know Korean, but in some ways, I think the fact that this was deliberately done to be made primarily legible to other Korean Americans who were/are in similar circumstances as Lee was a fantastic move that made their story feel very authentic to who they were growing up, as well as who they still are today.

Another thing I appreciated about Lee’s memoir was laying bare the messiness that comes with mental illness and suicide, and how Korean immigrant families respond to these things (if at all). Somewhat relatedly, I could also see how some readers might be a bit unnerved by the fraught relationship between Lee and their mother in particular, especially how it “wrapped up” towards the end. I think, if anything, the way Lee reflected on this is one that might resonate with many Asian Americans from immigrant families, which is the constant negotiation of one’s identity and cultures that happens, all of which are intimately tied to family relations and survival/trauma. This is all to say that it’s not a simple task to forgive a family member or cut them out of your life entirely, and I think, to the best of their ability, Lee did well in depicting this.

I found myself wanting just a little more than what was given from certain parts of Lee’s memoir, especially to explore this limbo state that they found themself in, especially while in Korea, but I also realize there are only so many pages that can be drawn.

Content Warning: racism, bullying, body shaming, emotional abuse, child abuse, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt

[smokefalls]

Here’s what movies tell you about teen suicide. They tape flowers and little notes on your locker. RIP. Gone too soon. They use you for social clout. A sick, romanticized tragedy. But a suicide attempt? At worst, you’re a subject of ridicule. At best, you’re politely ignored. But what is a fate worse than being even more invisible to others? And who can blame them?

Deb JJ Lee, In Limbo

[smokefalls]

Just be careful. ’Cause when you apologize that much, it all becomes white noise and loses its meaning. Makes people think you owe them. And you don’t. So stop apologizing so much, okay?

Deb JJ Lee, In Limbo