Evgeni Dinev, Bulgaria during autumn
We decided to test just how safe our new Handleband phone mount is over the edge of the Golden Gate Bridge!
So, we rode to the bridge (snapping pix from our handlebars the whole way). Then gave our phone a good shaking out over the bay …
It turns out … The Handleband super snug! Phew!
I cringe when I over hear people making stereotypes of their own ethnicity in a manner that is attempted to elevate him or herself above their race. You know? the statements that say, I am different from THEM cause I know whats uncool about us people, so really I am one of you guys. Today, I was studying and a young man who was Chinese exclaimed to his cohort, who happened to be another chinese man: “Dude! You are Asian! You are SUPPOSED to be good at MATH!”
This situation made me uncomfortable on many levels. The most crippling thought was the idea that we live in a world where ethnic minorities ( in this case Chinese) internalizes the stereotypical image that they are given. It is one thing when stereotypical descriptions are expressed by those not of that ethnicity (because we can identify this easily as racism), but when those miss guided assumptions become so prevailing that the group adopts those markers and sets them as their projected normalcy, that really troubles me. So in this scenario, because you are not good at math, you are a “bad” “Asian”.
One might argue : “But being good at math is not a negative stereotype.” Yes, being good at math is not a bad asset in life, but when that asset becomes a central pillar of the few qualities that societies used to define your identity, it becomes problematic. What happens when you are not good at math but happen to be of Asian descend? There is an underlying governance of what it means to be authentic “Asian”. I might also add that these static images describing “Asians” (an ambiguous term) often are “traditional”. the problem with this is that modernity is through the identification of the old and the traditional and departing from them. Thus what we have now is a entire generation of minorities, whose ethnic culture have been identified as “traditional”, trying to shed that part of their identity to become modern. Often it comes in remarks such as the one I witnessed earlier.
Who knows, maybe i am over reacting.
ok my 20 followers, go!
I saw you in bed a thousand times. I saw you rolling in circles on the ground of old photographs, just long enough to catch my attention. I saw you in the woods when it was raining, and our boots squeaked wet to the rhythm of our walking. I saw you ride your bike, and fall off of it. I saw you on the dance-floor. I saw you on the skytrain, ‘cause we made love there. I saw you at the flea-market every weekend, and at Hotel Vancouver, on every floor. I saw your face in the glow of a full moon. I saw you pluck a thousand tunes on your guitar like a goddamn Mississippi blues man from the 1930’s. I saw you on the other side of the Vancouveropoly board. I saw you at the beach, with friends, next to a fire as the sun came up. I saw you in my mind, every waking moment after writing that silly ‘I saw you’ more than a year ago. So here’s another. I know you’ve been looking ever since. And I hope I see you again; over and over until my coal-black-dog-wet-soul-f*ck eyes are tired and blind.