COMMENTARY

S T A F F B O X:

Ambiguity is the only certainty in Review's editorial decisions
South Asian Show review was not perfect, but not racist either


Ambiguity is the only certainty in Review's editorial decisions

The responses to last week's "Bad Faith" cartoon demonstrate the misconception that the Review, and the greater issues discussed in these pages, are as simple as black and white. In truth they are all shades of gray.

Several weeks ago, the Review ran an article about the arrest of a professor who has been accused of indecent exposure. It was balanced and complete.

The following week, we received a letter calling our reporting tabloid journalism. The letter argued that the placement of the article unjustly tarnished the professor's reputation and ignored the many contributions he has made to the College.

This debate - between sensationalism and reporting - is one example of the ethical ambiguities we face every week. We believe the arrest of a professor was the biggest news of the week. But from another perspective, our decision was irresponsible and tabloid-esque.

The recent debate about last week's "Bad Faith" cartoon is another example of the ethical issues that surround newspaper work. The biggest misconception made in the letters attacking the cartoon and our decision to run it is that we are entirely confident in all our editorial decisions. The truth is that we feel the very tensions explored on these pages ourselves. We are not blind to the concerns raised, and we are constantly trying to compromise the conflicting ideas.

What is the line between free and hate speech? Is it more important for the Review to be a space for divergent opinions, or to be conscious of the possibly offensive implications of these opinions? When, if ever, should we allow letters to be submitted anonymously? What makes a story newsworthy?

From the beginning of the week when we come up with story lists, to the middle when we decide whom to interview, to Thursday night when we decide which page stories go on, our weeks are filled with subjective decisions. Our guidance on these questions comes from a mesh of journalistic "rules," Review policy and precedent, our own personal ethical criteria and a good dose of practicality. Honestly, many editorial decisions stem from what will allow us to actually produce a paper each week.

When we first read the "Bad Faith" cartoon we knew it was offensive. We knew it articulated a problematic political stance. However, this did not stop us from running it. We value political dialog. We value free speech.

As many people remember, the Review chose not to publish a cartoon drawn by another Review cartoonist last fall because the editors believed the cartoon condoned violence against women. The violence it displayed was gratuitous.

Perhaps we could argue that there is a difference between the two cases. The "Bad Faith" cartoon made what we see as a political comment on the nature of identity politics and safe space. Unless you see advocating violence against women as a political argument, the "Toupydoups" cartoon is different. It was low humor that could be politicized. "Bad Faith" was political humor that could be read as low.

On the other hand, there could be no real distinction between the two scenarios. Perhaps the Review erred when it rejected the Toupy cartoon. We can see both arguments. We are not convinced that one point is more valid than the other.

It isn't clear if last year's decision to hold "Toupydoups" sets a precedent for all future Reviews. Unlike professional newspapers, the Review editorial staff is in flux yearly. Each staff brings its own views on censorship and its own ethical values. The two of us writing this essay disagree on whether holding the Toupy cartoon last year was a mistake. We have different ideas of free speech and censorship.

Despite our divergent views on some things, we both believe it is inaccurate to believe that the Review has a set of higher or lower motives in everything we do. It is also incorrect to imagine that we support everything that goes into the Review every week. We are just two people. It would be ridiculously boring to produce a paper full of everything we love.

The Review has weaknesses. It has many weaknesses. We will be the first to acknowledge this and enumerate many of them. However, we can't do anything but continue to fumble for a balance between our classes and the Review, between arts, news and sports, between objectivity and subjectivity, between free speech and censorship. You get the picture.

Although it is extremely painful to see oneself depicted as a Klansman and cast as racists throughout letters and essays, we trust that these assertions will help us understand the complexity of the issues we deal with every day. We take the criticisms levied against us seriously. They will no doubt inform our future decisions. As we try to understand the arguments and analyses printed throughout this paper, we hope that others will try to understand the complexity of the issues we face every week.

Abby Person and Susanna Henighan are Co-Editors-in-Chief of the Review.


South Asian Show review was not perfect, but not racist either

Working at the Review can sometimes feel like an utterly thankless job. I spend a good chunk of my week organizing lists of names and events, pleading with writers, reading the same sentences over and over again, and sitting in a smelly, dank basement. Why? Does anyone even read this? I sometimes ask myself, on those early Friday mornings when I'm reading the arts calendar for the eighth time, trying to remember how to spell "performance" correctly.

All the same, I love it. I can't explain why, but I doubt I would do it if I didn't love it-trust me, there's no financial incentive. It's a big responsibility, especially here at Oberlin, where every member of the community, students in particular, are so thorough, so active, so vocal. So when you step on someone's toes in the most public forum on campus, you have to be ready to face the consequences. And I am.

I know that last week's review of the South Asian Cultural Show was less than perfect. I feel terrible about the factual errors (3rd annual, not 5th) and the unfortunate misspellings. But let me assure you, at 6 in the morning, Hindi, Hindu, even Ottoman: all those words look the same. But I'm not saying it's all forgiveable human error. The response from SASA raises some very valid points.

But I will defend the Review's decision to run the story. It is not racist. Deconstruct away, what you construe as racism might be different from what I see. That's the problem with the entire debate. Who's to say who is right? No, the reviewer should not have used a word like "exotic." It's far too political, far too loaded. When discussing matters of culture, that is.

But isn't it a little much to classify Raphael Martin as a "colonial anthropologist?" Give him some credit. I don't think he intended to come off as "condescending," I simply think he was trying to give his review a little character. Sure, to achieve that he might have sacrificed a little of his own credibility. But of course it's clear that Martin writes from a location, from the West. That's where we are.

The use of terms like "casual" and "low-key" may seem condescending, but remember that a review is just that, an evaluation, subjective to the end, and you cannot dispute points of opinion. And is it so bad that the article connects the sitar and the tabla to their use in Western music? These are instruments which, like it or not, might not be familiar as words, but most Western music fans have probably heard a sitar without even realizing it. It's not colonial anthropology, it's fact. The Beatles were influential in bringing the sitar to the West.

I was surprised that people were unhappy with the reviewer noting the incongruity of seeing South Asian arts performed in front of a Western Organ. What's wrong with that? It's true. Part of the potential power of a performance like this one is the fact that it takes place in such a Western context, which it must, which it always will since we are, in fact, in the West. Interpret the idea as you will, I liked that part of the article. In fact, I think it is one of its strengths.

The idea of a South Asian Cultural Show is implicitly Western. There would be no need for such a show in South Asia itself. If the purpose of the show was to expose a Western audience to the culture native to that region of the world, then surely the organizers and performers are acknowledging that we in the West could use some informing. Then how can they reprimand the Review for not sending a reporter "who has a thorough knowledge of South Asian cultures?" Hell, I am South Asian and I'm pretty sure I'm as uninformed as the reviewer. Isn't that the point?

True, he could have been more sensitive, but I think more than displaying any overtly racist agenda, his comments simply demonstrate his own ignorance. We all harbor racist ideas, let's be frank, but to call someone an outright racist is another thing altogether. The forces of our culture play themselves out in our language and understnadings in ways we cannot even process, let alone keep in constant check. There must be a distinction made between active and passive racism. Failure to draw this distinction cheapens the power of the language.

I recently returned from a two week vacation in Bangladesh. While there, I saw more clearly than I perhaps ever had how utterly impossible it is to achieve any true translation between cultures. Sure, there were Oprah and the Cartoon Network there, because, as SASA so nicely puts it, South Asia is not ancient and primordial. But these aspects of the West aren't really understood there, because they're simply too far out of context.

I remember trying to explain to the maidservant in my Aunt's house that where I come from, I don't leave my dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom to be returned to me washed, ironed, folded and discreetly left on my bed the next morning. I take my own filthy, Feve stained clothes across the street and wash them in the basement of Burton for $1.75, for her an outrageous sum of money. She did not understand. I felt condescending and silly as I explained this to her, and frustrated at myself for my obvious liberal guilt. I had a lot of problems coping with the constant attentions of the servants; it is just too far from my own experience of life.

This is a dumb example, I know, but it's the best way I can think to frame in my own understanding how utterly different the East and the West are. Cultural dialogue is important in terms of enlightenment and education. And the host culture will always handle the other as just that, the other. We may strive to connect, but the most we can hope to do is overlap. It's a goal worth striving for certainly, but make sure that is the ultimate goal.

And to respond to the last point SASA makes: "We are a part of that [the Review's] readership. We demand that our voices be heard and respected." The Review strives to respect, and I apologize on behalf of everyone involved if we fell short of that. And I invite you all to join our staff of writers, to strengthen our attempts to best serve the community.

Rumaan Alam is an arts editor and a college senior.

 

Staff Box is a column for Review  staffers.

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Copyright © 1998, The Oberlin Review.
Volume 127, Number 10, November 20, 1998

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