Sunday, September 27, 2015

hall of name

Image: http://www.thefeministwire.com/wp-
content/uploads/2014/05/Name.png

(1) My name is Kaylee Ann. I go by Kaylee. My parents chose my first name because it means “keeper of the keys” or “pure” and gave me my middle name because it is a maternal family tradition. When I was born, my grandparents were a little shocked by my parents’ choice because the name was not directly derived from the Bible, though now they do not seem to mind. As I grew, my name was one of the first words I learned and I was able to recognize myself as Kaylee. Although I imagine this is true of all children, my name was important to me and became a title, a link to myself. My name is me and, especially as a child, there was no distinction between me and the name Kaylee. My name is a part of my identity. There have not been any very famous celebrities with the name Kaylee or situations involving any Kaylee’s, so there are not many general connotations associated with my name. This has allowed me to adopt this name and not feel much outside pressure or stereotyping about how my name defines me. I do not feel that it defines me so much that my name is a title for my being and person. I believe that I am working to establish a definition for my name so that those around me will associate “Kaylee” with my traits.

(2) Duality is the contrast of two aspects of one thing, or in my case, one person. I am a different persons in different environments. I do not believe that either of these persons is my “true” self, but that all of them are part of a greater whole. While my mannerisms, actions, or words may change, my core values and beliefs are constant. My environment can change how I think or how I behave. I am an introvert, always have been, and so I am much louder and sociable around people I already know, or in small groups. In larger groups, particularly around those whom I do not know, I am usually quiet; I am still thinking in the same way, but not willing to vocalize myself in the same way. I generally exist more as an individual with less people around, because I allow myself to fall back in to a group.

This coexistence of selves is also present when it comes to my family. My role in my house is a sister and step-sister, and the oldest daughter. I have responsibilities; I help my parents, drive my sisters around, and am generally viewed as studious. My family is important to me and they all helped to shape me in to who I am, but I am more than just a sister or daughter. I am also an individual with personal goals; I have my own ideas about where I want to live, what it means to successful, as well as about politics, religion, and even humor. It is not that they do not know me as an individual, it is that they perceive me through a tainted lens. My loyalty to my family is one part of me and most of the time takes precedence, especially because I live with my family. The duality is usually only a dilemma when my loyalty is split, like between spending time with family or friends, or working for my own goal or helping a shared cause. 

Sunday, September 13, 2015

"Othering"


This photograph is part of Wing Young Huie’s collection Looking for Asian America: An Ethnocentric Tour. It was taken in 2001 in Baker, Montana, is called Demolition Derby and was posted on Huie’s blog in April 2012. In the background, the photo features a large crowd of various people and families seated in what appears to be a small stadium. Everyone in the background is white, they are of varying ages, dressed and arranged casually along the rows of seats. In the center foreground, a single Asian man stands alone. He is dressed in blue jeans, a leather belt, a short-sleeved beige button-up and a watch. The event seems to be popular for this community, and in general the people appear to be having fun. The Asian man’s facial expression is somewhat solemn and less excited than many of the other faces pictured.

On a deeper level, this picture speaks about racial identity and community. The Asian man clearly stands alone, not just physically but also in the sense that he is different than everyone around him; the rest of the people are white. While his attire is the same, his pensive face conveys his real sorrowful feelings about the situation. Described by Huie, on his blog, as looking “Photoshopped in,” this man clearly does not fit in. Some viewers could see this photograph as an image of inclusiveness because an Asian man is at this mainly white event, but the details of the photo make it clear that Huie is attempting “other” this Asian man. It is important to note that Huie identifies as an Asian American and how this may have prompted him to wonder about how this particular man feels, in comparison to how he appears in the photograph.

The way that Atwood presents “othering” in The Handmaid’s Tale is different than how Wing Young Huie does so in this photograph.

The perspective of Atwood’s narrator, Offred, a rebellious handmaid, allows for a better understanding of the main character and those on her side, while many secondary characters become “others.” In Huie’s photo the emphasis on the main figure that sets him as different from everything and everyone else in the scene. Furthermore, being of different forms, a novel and a photograph, the way the author and artist convey their messages are unique.

In Demolition Derby, Huie uses an interesting balance of contrast and integration. The main figure stands out, but at first glance his neutral colored shirt allows him to almost blend in to the crowd behind him. However, his position in the center foreground clearly sets him apart from the slightly unfocused white audience in the background. Compared to the general messiness and casual look of this said audience, the Asian man seems to be very clean and statuesque. His face is also turned in a different direction than most of the other people pictured and his expression is wistful, or even sad. The effect of using these visual layout tools is that the Asian man in the foreground is portrayed as separate from the rest of the situation. He appears lonely; his transparency furthers the idea that he might feel overlooked or ignored in his community. Although the man seems to accept his role on the outside by dressing nicely, his face reveals that his clothes are a facade used to disguise his lack of belonging. 

In The Handmaid’s Tale, Atwood uses language to create a format and style that clearly shows the differences between Offred and the other characters. Because of the perspective of the narrator, the clearest “othering” is seen towards the beginning before Offred has the opportunity to understand deeper motives and identify with secondary characters. She originally feels very alone in her new household in Gilead and perceives her superiors, the Commander and his Wife, as cold and foreign. Her early musings about them are fairly simple and observant, because she is distanced from them. As she gets to know them, particularly the Commander, Offred explores the idea of humanity and her descriptions become less critical and more emotional.

Another example of how Atwood creates “othering” in the novel is the use of color as a symbol for each social class. The visual difference furthers the social distance between the groups as it creates an easy indicator of who has the power in a situation.