Perceptions of Life in America

“Well, when I was nine years old, Star Trek came on, I looked at it and I went screaming through the house, ‘Come here, mum, everybody, come quick, come quick, there’s a black lady on television and she ain’t no maid!’ I knew right then and there I could be anything I wanted to be.” 

Whoopi Goldberg, who said these words, was referring to Nyota Uhura a fictional character in the Star Trek series. In the 1960’s, non-menial roles for African-Americans on television were hard to come by. Nyota Uhura being one of the first African-American characters featured in a consequential role on an American television series was a huge deal.   Whoopi Goldberg became a big Star Trek fan as a result. 

Today, we see a lot more roles for blacks than we did, say 50/60 years ago. Though stereotypes do abound you can still find positive portrayals. I still “see” myself. The question is; what about those groups that do not? What about those groups that aren’t represented in the media, and when they are represented they’re portrayed negatively? When people don’t “see” themselves they may feel ignored or rejected. 

Whoopi believed that she could be anything she wanted to be all because she saw someone, not unlike herself, fulfilling a role that society would not have expected or deemed possible. This perception still rings true today. Growing up, I’d picture myself as a director and editor of a major Hollywood production. The end of a movie for me wasn’t the last scene, but the last name on the rolling credits. I’d scan the credits for women, thinking if they could do it so could I. When you “see” people like yourself in the media, especially when they’re portrayed positively, it may give you a sense of pride, belonging and opportunity. It’s kind of like that saying “seeing is believing,” or in this case, it’s easier to believe you can be it if you can see it.     

Students from many different groups do still experience isolation and marginality. My best friend in one such person that experiences isolation and marginality. Just this week she shared with me an experience she had with her study group. She’d sometimes mispronounce words, and her study group would tease her for her pronunciations. Although it wasn’t their intentions she felt mocked and alone. She told me that there was no greater relief than when she told her study group how she felt and that she preferred to be corrected whenever she mispronounced words. When she told them this they were open to change. 

She believes communication goes a long way. Just letting others know how you feel may help. I also think it's important to be more inclusive and respect the differences of others. Be mindful.  

Throughout my life, I’ve heard so many different mispronunciations of my name. People have forgotten my name. I’ve even had close friends make fun of it. If I see someone struggling with my name I help em’ out or just tell them, “Just call me Kelly. Sometimes just to save myself the hassle of having to correct their inevitable mispronunciation, I give them my nickname. I didn’t come up with my nickname (sometimes I wish I did) my family did. I guess they knew even before I did the struggle people would have to trying pronounce or remember my name. In a way, I can relate to Imahori’s decision to call himself Todd instead of Tadusu. I do, however, think it’s sad that he was made to feel that in order to assimilate or “fit in” he needed to assume an “American” name, essentially giving up a part his identity. Your name is a part of who you are. It’s something you should feel free to be proud of. 

I do believe that there are privileges that being white affords even if that person doesn’t have the economic means. Financial privilege exists but so does white privilege. Those from European American cultures don’t “feel their color or culture” each moment of every day.  When something is not going their way, they have the privilege of not wondering whether the situation carries racial undertones.  

I don’t technically live in America, but coming from an island of approximately 4 thousand people to a country of over 300 million, what I would tell someone contemplating emigration to America is that it’s huge, not just geographically (my island is 11.5 square miles), but there is a lot of people. And it’s easy to feel that you can get lost in the shuffle. It’s a land of opportunity. Growing up I’d always wanted to be a gymnast, but on my island no such opportunities were available. So when I was little, I wish I lived in the US so that I could  have that opportunity. So yeah, it’s the land of opportunity. And if you put in the work or whatever, there is a chance that you will succeed.