Where Have All the Arabs Gone?

Reading about both literal and figurative border crossings got me thinking about race today.  I am always a little weary when it comes to discussing race because I feel that my whiteness and the privileges that come with it preclude me from the conversation.

In performance scholarship so much is said about the unmarked white body.  The unmarked white body is still something I am working towards being able to explain coherently but let's give it a go.

In the West, Whiteness is the default,  it is the given race.  In film, television, and any mass entertainment their is an unspoken understanding that the audience is made up of white people.  This is why their are channels in television line ups like BET and Telemundo but not a channel called Caucasian!  The same can be said with magazines. Urban Latino, or Vibe are available on newsstands but White Girl doesn't exist. Well, it does but it's called Elle or Vogue.

Are you starting to see what I mean by Whiteness being the default?  This draw towards a desired level of whiteness can also be found in our desire to see whiteness around us.   There may have been times in our past when we saw a person of a marked race acting differently then what how we expect a person to act and we say "why can't they just act normal?" It is very possible that what we are actually saying is  "why can't they just act white?"

At the same time, scholarship on borders and their crossings also tells us that borders are manufactured. They are created to keep people in and keep other people out. So what happens if we stop believing in borders and their magic defining power.  What if we just say, "look, science tells us that Africa was the cradle of life. Therefore we are all African. Let's hold hands and sing about how much we love Coke!"
Would that actually work?  Or are our borders so ingrained in our bodies that we would actually need to start a new civilization with babies that would no knowledge of borders and therefore not create them.

Bad sci-fi movies aside,  thinking about how borders are written on our bodies before we are born got me thinking about my own personal borders.  If you will indulge my navel gazing for just a bit I would like to think about how borders effect me.

So my borders are hidden beneath my skin.  I am divided in twain as a person of European decent on my mother's side and of Palestinian decent on my father's.  My dad is what someone might call a "boater".  He came to the United States in the mid 1970s after living in several different places in the middle east.  He originally lived in Palestine but right as the Israeli/Palestinian war was breaking out his family packed up and left because as my Jeddo (grandfather) said, the wealth and land they had in Palestine is not worth the pinky nail on any of his children getting hurt.  Thus, I grew up knowing that my own pinky nail is worth more than the entire world to my father.  My father is a refugee.

However, european jeans both from the crusades and from my mother are strong and both my brother and I are blonde hair blue eyed children.  I do not wear my Palestinian heritage on my body or sleeve and sometimes because of that, I feel disconnected from it.  Even in myself I default to whiteness*. This is why I sometimes overtly mention how I am apart of the Arab race.  "My people!" It is important for me to confuse people about what the Arab woman looks like.


I have read a lot of scholarship on border crossings and very little of it is interested in Arab-Americans.  In general there seems to be a lack of Arab-American theatre scholarship and definitely a shortage of scholarship concerning the image of the Arab Women, American or otherwise,  in theatre and film.  Is this a void that I could possibly fill?

I definitely think that it will devote my week of discussion in my American Theatre class to this topic.



*I have to point out that when looking at the typical selection of boxes for state and federal papers their is not an Arab box to check.  When my mother was trying to enroll my brother in public school, she asked why there was not an Arab box for her son and was told, by a white woman, that she should check the caucasian box because being Arab was the same as being white.

So according to the state and federal government, I have no internal borders to cross.

Cheers,

E

Dear John, (A Humorous Essay)

Dear John Fletcher,

I am writing an open blog post to you today because I have come to a realization that I think should be shared amongst the people.

First, let me say how sorry I am that you are feeling sick.  I know how important it is to feel your best before giving a paper. I hope you get well soon.

Second, after 28 days of blogging every single day (or in my case almost every single day) I have come to a realization. It is time for us to break up (after 3 days of course).  I know that my realization is not necessarily the most sophisticated one but hear me out.

You have been great.  It's not you, its me. Really. I just don't have anything to say after 28 days of saying things.  I find that my daily blog post haunts my being.  I sit in front of my computer desperately hoping for inspiration to strike and nothing comes. I wake up in cold sweats at 4 am because I remembered that I had forgotten to write a blog for that day.

Like I said this is not a problem with you are your assignment. This is a problem with me.

It is hard for me to admit this but I am just not that interesting. My life consists of waking up, eating, going to school, coming home, basic biological functions, and sleeping.  I ask you, what about that process is blog post worthy?

Maybe if I was actively pursuing a research agenda, I would have something intelligent to say but considering that I blew my research wad almost  twenty days ago, I got nothing.

My life is a boring, uninspired, series of events punctuated by blog posts where I rant and rail about how hard life is or how depressed I am about something, something, PhD. something.

It is for this reason that we have to break up.  Now, I am not giving up on all men  blogging. I am just deciding to scale it back a bit. Maybe if I no longer am forced to produce content, I will produce better content. It's a whole quality over quantity situation.  Be a little less slutty when it comes to my blogging.

I also understand if you think I might be a little out of line. I know that you have to do twice the work because you are blogging for multiple classes. I also realize that I was a big supporter of keeping a daily blog.  I stand by my decision as it has taught me a lot about my limits as a human being and a blogger.  I like blogging. It is fun and thrilling to see the number of pageviews creep up to 1000. However, I also feel responsible for posting good, quality content for those pageviews.  I need to earn the page views with interesting anecdotes not unfortunate rants.

John, you have helped me become a better woman blogger and for that I have to thank you but I just really feel that you are asking too much from me at this stage in our relationship.  I think I am just not enough woman blogger for you.

I hope we can still be friends.

Best,

Evleen

Why the Film Anonymus Has Ruined My Career

Today, Dr. Fletcher asked this question in his blog "are there aspects of our profession, our field, (theatre/ performance scholars) in which the settled consensus of experts is being called into question and made to stand trial in the court of (non-expert) public opinion?"


To answer this question I first had to think about whether or not the public, the holders of public opinion, really care about anything that theatre experts have to say.  Thinking about this made me a little sad because I couldn't think of how theatre impacts public opinion. Film, sure, television, hell ya! But what do people have to say about theatre that theatre experts disagree with?  And then, like a bolt of lightning it struck me...Shakespeare.

The Immortal Bard

Shakespeare has become a topic of discussion among the public.  If you went to high school in America it is very likely that you had to read one if not several Shakespeare plays.  If you watch movies or t.v. it is very likely that you have come in contact with Shakespeare's plays or themes or likeness and; if you saw the movie Anonymus then you are aware of the conspiracy theory that Shakespeare did not write his own plays.

Full disclosure, I never saw the film because it just looked really dumb. 

I say conspiracy theory because experts in the field of theatre, that is me and the others like me, do not argue about the authorship of Shakespeares plays.  Honestly, and correct me if I am wrong hordes of theatre scholars, we don't actually care who authored the plays.  Now of course some scholars do care because authorship is important, blah blah blah, but the person behind the plays does not change the fact that the plays exist. Nor does it change the fact that there are many playwrights and plays from Shakespeare's time that don't get facetime with the general populous because of Shakespeare's presence in the cannon.

But no matter what the theatrical experts have to say, the public thrives on this controversy.  Young students think that just because it was made into a movie it has to be true.  The question of who authored Shakespeare's plays is brought up in every theatre or English class I have ever been in and I expect to have to answer that question in every theatre class I teach for the rest of my life.  It is my burden.

So there you have it J. Fletch. Shakespeare is the theatre professional's global warming.

Education is Wasted on the Young

I didn't blog last night.  I had every intention of blogging but, after the ice cream cake and 4th IHOP mug of wine I pretty much was done for the night.

That being said, I did have a wonderful spa night with the PhD and a couple of the MFA ladies of the theatre department.  I laughed, I cried, I ate way to many "cheese" balls.

I even got a wicked picture of Macy "tearing her face off." Awesome night.

So please forgive me faithful readers and professor for my absence last night.  I was busy bonding with the ladies of LSU.


On a more academic note, I have been thinking about a question J.F asked in class the other day, "why are you getting your PhD."  My first response is because of all of the fame and fortune and glory that comes with a PhD! ... but really.  I feel like I have sprinkled answers to this question through out posts on this blog but maybe have never given an ultimate answer.  Ultimately, (see what I did there?) I am getting my PhD so that I might be able to teach persons about ideas and phenomena that will impact the way they live the rest of their lives.  This is the service that I will provide with my PhD and this is the service that humanities in general provides to college and university students.

After reading about the crisis in the humanities part 1 and part deux I think that what Stanley Fish has to say is actually a big relief. He basically argues that as professors of humanities courses we have to refuse to argue for our right to exist outside of a university context.  We have to stop saying how humanities courses are good for students because they learn valuable skills that can be used after graduation. Yes we teach critical thinking skills but so do the science and engineerings. If a person wants to learn applicable skills then they should consider going to a vocational-technical school.  If general learning, and acquiring knowledge about a topic from a professional in that field is what you want to do, then come on down to a university.

After ruminating on this yesterday I really think that while young people are expected to go to college, the opportunity and experience is wasted on them. I lump myself in with the opportunity lost group.  If I felt about education in my undergrad classes the way I feel about it now, I know I would have worked harder, and absorbed more.  I would have viewed it as less of a burden and more of a gift.

"Education is wasted on the young", someone, somewhere said one time. Young people think it is hard laborious work when in fact digging ditches is harder.

As a future humanities professor it is my job to inform and encourage the future young people to take advantage of their four or five years of schooling and learn as much as they can about as many things as they can.  That is why I want to get my PhD.

Dun, nun nun nun nun nun..They say its your birthday!

Following John Fletcher's lead, I decided to look up significant events that happened in history on this day that is the day of my birth.  

Unfortunately, it seems like the only positive event that happened on the 23 of October throughout history is my birth.

Other historical happenings on the 23 of October are as follows:

42 B.C. Brutus from Julius Caeser assassination fame, committed suicide.

1864 Yankee and Rebel armies fought at the Battle of Westport

1989 Gas leek at a plastics factory kill 23 people

2002 700 people are held hostage in  Moscow theatre during a sold-out performance of the musical Nord Ost

2012  I feel down off of my high heels in the campus parking lot and scraped my knee hard.

All day I have been reflecting on how birthdays change as a person gets older.

When we are little, if we are lucky,  we are the center of attention on our day of birth.  Parents, friends and family shower you with love and gifts. Teachers make the class sing happy birthday to you and your mom brings cake to the class.

Getting older means that birthday celebrations become more significant and the celebrations can get longer.  Instead of 1 party on the day of your birth, you have a week long celebration with parties and drinking and more parties.

Now as I turn 26 I am not that much wiser than I was at 25 but I do realize that my birthday while special and significant is also just another day for the rest of the world.  I still have to go to work, and unfortunate things like falling down in the parking lot can still happen to the birthday girl.  I am so grateful for all of my birthday well wishers and feeling so much love from so many people even though I am far away from so many loved ones.  I am also grateful for new loved ones who took the time to stop and wish me a happy birthday, bring me chocolate cake from Whole Foods, eat brie calzone and see an "interesting" play with me this evening.

I feel very loved this evening. Happy birthday to me!

Ask Me No Questions

When in our young lives were we taught that asking questions was improper?  In academia we often say to our students and have been told that "there are no stupid questions."  Yet, no matter what the scenario, questions are still hard to ask.

I think there are a few reasons that I can come up with for why students are afraid of asking questions in academia:  a fear of looking dumb in front of others in a group because you don't understand the concept, knowing that you might not have prepared for class as you should and don't want to ask a question that has already been answered in the reading, or you are afraid of asking a question that you then might have to answer through the socratic method.

Asking questions is hard because it is admitting that I don't have the answers and, at some point in my youth I was taught that admitting you don't know something is wrong.  Now of course this doesn't apply to knowledge that isn't in your field of study/work or knowledge that is not considered "common sense"but, if you have been studying it or if "everyone" knows it than you should know better than to ask about it.

The reason I am on this questionable line of conversation, see what I did there? is because this evening I asked a question of the waitress at dinner and she answered me pretty truthfully.  I asked about a featured dish on the menu (something I rarely do) and she told me that while the dish was good, it was not worth the price.  I found that I was grateful and surprised at her honesty.  I realize that this is a different kind of question than one that is asked in a classroom but humor me.  As a consumer I often find myself suspicious of the answers that I get from sales people who's job is to sale me something. There is no reason why they would tell me the "truth" if the truth is going to result in me not purchasing a product. So, when the waitress told me to save money, I was taken aback.

I also feel that right around the same time we learned that asking questions was wrong, we also were taught that if you happen to be asked a question you should then answer truthfully. It's mixed in there with the whole lying is bad thing. We are manipulated in to revealing our deepest darkest secrets because lying is bad. But we should never be put into a situation where we must reveal our deepest darkest secrets because asking questions is also bad. So really we are safe.

Unless of course a bad person asks us a question. Then we are thereby obligated through the rules of propriety to answer it. And it is always a good idea to tell bad people truths about yourself.

This is where logic gets me.

Unbloginspired

So I am feeling a little unbloginspired. It is hard to write two posts in one day.  Hell, its hard to write one post a day when all you seem to do is read other peoples writings about deep, philosophical thoughts.

I bought some fiction books this weekend. I know, reading for fun is kind of a pipe dream right now but, at 3 dollars a book I couldn't resist.  I was so happy when I discovered the Books-A-Million near the Whole Foods this weekend.  I love bookstores and Barnes and Noble has not been doing it for me lately. Anyway,  B-A-M had some classics on clearance for $3 as well as a couple of non-classics that got me with their cover art.

It's true.  I am not ashamed to admit that packaging will get me every time.  Part of the reason why I love Benefit cosmetics so much is their adorable packaging. I don't have a lot of that line because it is too pricey for this graduate student but; I do love to drool over it at Sephora.   While I will never go as far as some and purchase a book simply for decoration, the cover art is important to me.

Too Cute.

So who needs philosophical sacred men and werwolves when you have pretty books and makeup to look at?