Watch SOA Cat Concert
Bob Dylan more than a relic of the past
Thanks for a sweet Halloween
It is not about allowing the privileged to live in more harmony
Materialism, inquality seen in excess
Guide dogs cannot direct traffic
To the Editors:
On Saturday, Nov. 13, a concert at the Cat in the Cream will prelude Oberlin activists' second annual trip to Georgia to call for the closing of the School of the Americas. Oberlin students supporting the SOA Watch are fundraising to cover costs for the trip to the rally in Georgia, with a suggested donation at the door of $3. The concert will include student musical groups the Can Consortium, Fuad Ahmad, The Connection, The Keanus, Jason Miles Goss, and Ilu Aye, as well as poetry readings. Raffle tickets are on sale and there will be a drawing at the concert for a variety of prizes. This will be the third benefit concert for the SOA Watch.
On Nov. 19-21, 10,000 people of faith and conscience will stand vigil at Ft. Benning in Columbus, Georgia to demand that the U.S. Army School of the Americas (SOA) be closed. Five thousand people will "cross the line," walking into Ft. Benning in a procession and risking arrest. At least one hundred people (including a handful from Oberlin) are expected to carry out a higher risk action of Civil Disobedience. These activists are risking being imprisoned for six months for their protest.
What has driven so many activists of all ages and professions across the country to travel so far to jeopardize their own freedom? The School of the Americas is a training facility for soldiers in various Latin American countries. Funded by U.S. tax dollars, the SOA has been instructing soldiers in how to carry out various methods of combat, counter-insurgency, and counter-narcotics for more than a decade. These insurgents are those working for social change and political reform.
Graduates of this program have left a stunning trail of blood in their wake, and are responsible for the worst human rights abuses in modern Latin American history.
In less than 10 years, the SOA Watch movement has proven that a few dedicated people truly can make a difference. Last year in Georgia, Oberlin had one of the largest college groups, with almost 50 student activists who crossed the line. This year, with over 100 members, Oberlin SOA Watch is utilizing their numbers, leading a massive media campaign in order to draw attention to the issue and the movement.
Press releases to students' hometown newspapers are scheduled to be released prior to and immediately after the protest in Georgia. Green
T-shirts boldly stating our desire to tear down the walls of the SOA have been ordered in an attempt to broadcast the strength, commitment and size of our organization.
Jackie Downing, one of the main organizers of Oberlin SOA Watch, will be speaking at a national press conference on behalf of student activists involved in trying to shut down the School of the Americas. Hopefully the pressure we and the rest of the dedicated individuals supporting the movement exert will be heard all the way on Capital Hill, and the bill attempting to close the SOA will finally become a reality.
To the Editors:
We are writing in response to Andrea Nelson's review of the Bob Dylan concert ("Lyrical Legend Fades Away") in the November 5 Review. Similarly to Ms. Nelson, we attended the concert at the Value City Arena in Columbus hoping to catch a glimpse of a rock legend and personal idol.
Our complaint is that the main point of "Lyrical Legend Fades Away" seemed to be that Dylan is now older than he was when he was young ("What was once raw and young is now classic and much more mainstream./ ...like most fires, Bob Dylan may be slowly dying out"). Though we can hardly dispute this, we do want to make sure that those who read the article who are unfamiliar with Dylan's work will not dismiss him as a relic with an interesting history without also being exposed to a more accurate statement of his accomplishments.
The article implies that Dylan is stuck in the past, that his artistic growth stopped somewhere in the sixties, and that ever since, he has done nothing but revisit the influential songs he wrote in that period. However, Dylan has made constant reinvention the keynote of his career. From politically-charged folk singer to surreal rock artist and back again; from defiant agnostic to born-again Christian; from the sneering judge of "Like a Rolling Stone" to the softened bumpkin of "Lay Lady Lay," Dylan's role in our culture is similar to that of oxygen: Omnipresent and indispensable, yet always in motion, never holding any one shape and only seen by what it moves.
We went to the concert aware of the fact that Dylan is on the wane of an incomparable career and adjusted our expectations accordingly. We hope that the readership of the Review will not forget that the man is still capable of brilliance (as evidenced by the recent "Time Out of Mind" album and a 1997 Grammy for Best Rock Vocal Performance). The article seemed ungenerous to a man who has done so much to shape our perceptions of popular music and the world.
To the Editors:
My daughter and I thoroughly enjoyed the Halloween festivities organized by Residential Life last Sunday in the basement of Noah Hall. Many thanks to those staff and students who organized an array of fun activities for the young children of Oberlin. We appreciate your time and community spirit. And, as one 4-year-old remarked, "The spider pinata was awesome!"
To the Editors:
According to Mr. Hughes, I wrote my essay for reasons other than "bringing about positive social change." Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but I wrote it because before social change can occur, society needs to determine what needs changing. Ergo my critique of Harkies and their appropriation of poverty, which, unlike Mr. Lewis, I do not view as unfortunate. This essay sought to provoke discussion about an overlooked problem as opposed to putting aside the bitterness and angst expressed in the letter as Mr. Hughes suggests; it is not about allowing the privileged to live in a more harmonious world! To clarify further, in opposition to Mr. Peterson I did not and do not suggest that "people who can afford to be materialistic should do so." Nor did the letter strive to encourage materialism (strict or not), or force people to be materialists. By the way, the ending statement is NOT inflammatory or ridiculous, but, given the general reaction, successful sarcasm. Lastly, I disagree with Ms. Fischer that the assumption that clothes and style of dress are not solely a matter of personal expression, but are also a badge of class, is a bizarre one.
Style of dress has myriad meanings, including conveying social identity. It is for this reason that I criticize Harkies for "appropriating poverty." It is not about freedom of expression, or making them conform to my "twisted idea of elitism and privilege" as Ms. Fischer argues. It is about pointing out the privilege wealthy students possess, privilege which, although it should not pigeonhole how they act or dress, they should be conscious of especially vis-�-vis others' perceptions of how they use it. Using privilege does not necessarily mean using your parents' clout to get you out of trouble, but can be as insidious as how you construct your social identity, whether that is accomplished through your style of dress or the social circles you move in. Harkies are not hypocrites if they own a cell phone per se, but they are hypocrites waiting to happen. For chances are they will no longer pose as hippies after Oberlin for the same reason low-income Americans do not wear dreadlocks or patchwork dresses - they cannot afford to because nobody will hire them. Hence, while they may not be intentionally trivializing the struggle against poverty, they are doing just that by playing with the experience of poverty through their appropriation of its outward personal expressions. This is a sad fact that I am reticent to ennoble on environmental bases as Mr. Peterson proposes. Westerners' over-consumption and over-pollution is another manifestation of privilege emanating from imperialism. The West's dictation of environmental causes to the Third World further compounds this by forcing the latter to shoulder more costs then benefits relative to the former. After all, brown people are to blame for Westerners' over-consumption and over-pollution because they supplied the resources that made it all possible, right?
Just as I would not applaud Harkies' environmentally-motivated appropriation of poverty, unlike Mr. Peterson, I do not applaud people who appropriate poverty - how rude of me. I must be very uncouth for failing to show deference to those same people who, thanks to their angelic nature (friendly, pleasant, & hygienic), choose to fight against environmental destruction and poverty allowing me the privilege of performing manual labor. This poses a problem for the Review's editors. If we are a nation of sell-outs, how is it possible to acknowledge that many of us (the angels) are against conspicuous consumption and obsession with money in general? As the two cannot both be true, the Editors are implying that Harkies, among others, are courageous warriors against consumer society, which further implies that the rest of us are the sell-outs. While I would agree that conspicuous consumption is bad, I doubt that Harkies protest it by the CONSCIOUS action of dressing like bums.
As Mr. Lewis stated, "[t]here are certain stigmas our clothes and appearance carries." This is the central point that Harkies need to realize, and once realized, act on it by not appropriating poverty. That is one way to give the respect he talks about to those who do the time, but get nothing in return. Unfortunately, it is just a first step, a baby one at that. If Harkies are the courageous warriors implied by the Editors and Messrs. Hughes and Peterson, then I hope they follow Mr. Lewis's advice, pay their dues and invest responsibly. However, I think they will conform and join us sell-outs. If you need any evidential confirmation, just look at what happened to the original hippies; they were in their prime during the '80s and we all know what equitable years those were. In conclusion, money is not something to flaunt, nor is it something to reject, but simply a means to an end - survival.
I would like to end this "mini-manifesto" with an equally inflammatory and ridiculous question as the statement with which I ended the previous one. "What if a student is economically disadvantaged and dresses in tore-up clothes, are they appropriating poverty?" No, you cannot appropriate what you already possess. Appropriate reality!
To the Editors:
I am writing in response to the many letters in your last issue concerning the appropriation of poverty. There seemed to be an overall feeling that shopping at Salvation Army was anti-materialist whereas shopping at the Gap was not. That is freaking, ridiculous. If you have 15 pairs of shoes and two dozen shirts and 10 dresses and five pairs of pants, that's materialistic no matter where they came from. Most of us own literally enough clothing to last us the next 10 or 20 years. So making your quarterly wardrobe trip to a thrift store doesn't rescue you from the sin of-excess, okay? Stop shopping! Period. I'm sure you've got enough in that closet to last you the rest of your life. God knows I do.
Now regarding appropriation: let's take a literal stance on this, shall we? There's a reason the Salvation Army and Goodwill set up their trendy little shops. Believe it or not, far far away from our rich little bubble, there live people who cannot afford to shop anywhere else. Gasp! Yes, it's true. They can't afford Hills or K-Mart or Wal-Mart or Ames. And they don't even know what the hell Abercrombie and Fitch is (me included). When you buy clothes there, you are literally taking them away from them. When I donate my old clothes to Goodwill and envision some rich Obie snatching up the $1. Doc Martens, I feel very pissed. It's like you're going to a soup kitchen and taking the food because, "it's locally grown and home-cooked and I really like the way it tastes. Must I eat within my own class? How elitist!"
Now regarding appropriation on a more abstract level: People ask, why must we dress our class? Oh, to infringe on tile freedom of the rich! How cruel! Do working class people have the right to go buy upper class clothes? No. They can't afford them. Rich people get to appropriate the fashion of working class people, but they don't appropriate the stress, hunger, shame. etc. Working class people get to appropriate what? We get to appropriate their money, fashion, opportunity, time, leisure, status - oh wait, no we don't. Actually, we don't get shit. But we're supposed to think it's wonderful and swell when they appropriate our culture. They're just all about equality. Oh, I see.
Here's my problem with the whole appropriation scene: You say you want equality. You spend your summers volunteering. You sign petitions. You donate money to the whales. But it's a load of shit. Are you really willing to give up the inequality you live everyday, your wealth? Do you really want to live in a world where you aren't rich? That's what equality is. The truth of it is, most Obies do not want that. And I'm sick of them lying, not actually realizing what it is they'd have to live up to have a clean planet and no starving and no racism and no sexism and equality. You're not just "middle class" (a lovely euphamism used by many for upper class), you're insanely rich. You have way too much. You'd have to give up your way of life for equality, so please shut your lying mouth and admit the truth: You like things just fine the way they are. Oh, except having to step around those street people is kind of depressing. And not being able to wear used clothing in peace is way annoying. So, do you think you could do something about that? I'm late for my meeting about my Winter Term trip to Mexico...
To the Editors:
Although I am currently enrolled as a student, I am writing from my home in Raleigh, North Carolina. Just over a week ago, I was crossing the street with my guide dog Doris when I was hit by a car making a left turn. I did in fact have the light. My judgement as to when to cross the street was not in error. Nor was my dog at fault. The car was coming from behind us, and was on the opposite side of me from her. Oddly enough, just three days before the accident, the director of training from Guiding Eyes for the Blind came for a follow up visit. He assured me that she was in top shape as a guide. She did in fact save me from serious injury. I came out of the incident with only a broken ankle. None the less, I won't be walking freely before the semester's end.
The truth is that guide dogs cannot direct traffic, they can only navigate through it. We would like to assume that these wonderful creatures have supernatural abilities. It is simply not so. This perpetuating myth is akin to the belief which posits that blind people themselves must possess awesome faculties of perception. This idea, once put forth by the blind to convince the sighted world that they were possessing of any worthy merit whatsoever, now obstructs the clarity of social relationships between the blind and the sighted. We want to believe in this notion because it affirms our desire for fairness and allows us to feel that we have a right to what we have.
I have developed a concept that I call the revolution of disability, which consists of all of the social elements and their ramifications necessary for people to live together freely. The core of this revolution is listening. As we clear our minds of ourselves and take in the world around us, we become humble to the existence of others. Our observations become the surfaces for memory and imagination, acting to expand the sensitivity of the self. Lastly, we dance this self as it meets the world, moving from a place that is continuously open to new observation. For our revolution to be complete, this model needs to be effective at the institutional as well as the personal level, allowing social structures to be flexible and responsive to the needs of individuals as well as those of groups. The fact is that human beings are worthy of respect, regardless of how they may appear in relationship to us in the world. This respect begins with acknowledgement and leads to love. I say to you that you are welcome at my table. My ear is yours for the asking. You may contact me over the next weeks at carlastvns@aol.com.
Copyright © 1999, The Oberlin Review.
Volume 128, Number 9, November 12, 1999
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