Friday, March 1, 2013

A Paradox of Assimiliation


In reflecting on the presentation given in class yesterday on the “Colonizer and the Colonized” by Albert Memmi, I found myself reconsidering what seemed to me to be one of a number of existing paradoxes within the paradigm of colonization: assimilation. Colonization, Memmi asserts, holds within it the implicit demand for attempts of assimilation by the colonized - at least in the sense that the colonized is forcibly removed from his/her original culture and language which ensues a stripping of identity. The full and complete realization of assimilation however is both undesirable and impossible. Full and complete assimilation is only realized when new members/subordinate groups become indistinguishable from older members/dominant group. Thus, for the colonizer who proposes the need for assimilation through acts of coercion, this would mean an end to the hegemonic system of oppression and exploitation upon which the colony is dependent. It would mean an end to the system of colonization which would be detrimental to the economic interests of the colonizers. For the colonized, the notion becomes even more problematic in that the colonized, based on their subordinate positions, are unable to close the gap of unequal relations between oppressors and the oppressed. They can attempt to cultural assimilate through various levels of acceptance towards the values and beliefs of the colonizers, but they will never be able to discard the essential divisions which exist between conceptions of colonizer and colonized. Full assimilation would imply that the colonized has been repositioned as colonizer. This reversal of roles cannot exist in reality because of implicit notions of identity that are tied to the social location (and often physical appearance) of the colonized. Senghor asserted his acknowledgement of this paradox of assimilation in his assertion of the inability to “strip off” his black skin or “root out” his black soul. Similarly, in speaking of post-colonial theory, Fanon mentions the problematic image of black skin wearing a white mask. Blackness is not invisible, and therefore to attempt to assimilate into a culture based on white privilege is doomed from the get go (though others of either race may argue otherwise).
            This paradox of assimilation brought me back to discussions we have had in previous classes about racial identity and self-identification. The Susie Guillor Phipps’s case mentioned by Omi and Winant brings this very issue into the light. Her call for a change in her racial classification on her birth certificate was denied on the basis of the 1/32nd designation of “blackness” for which she qualified. How can individuals be called to choose sides? And what are the ramifications of these decisions once devoted to? According to Mills, this question of racial self-identification, not surprisingly, is heavily layered in moral and metaphysical implications. Neutrality is not an option because race plays a huge factor in situating and normalizing an individual’s identity and therefore duty within society. The standard accusation made when “choice” actually does exist is that any refusal to identify with the subordinate race is “morally culpable and a result of a desire to avoid the stigmatized fate”. Any other attempts at explanation or justification are rejected as irrelevant and lacking in truth. But, do we have the right to judge people for these types of decisions? Can we honestly say what decision we would make if positioned on the bi-racial "edge" and forced to choose a side? What kinds of effects would this type of decision have on the further shaping of an individuals’ notion of self-identity?

2 comments:

  1. Throughout the African-American literary canon, the notion of 'passing' often comes up; in fact, 'passing' literature encompasses an entire genre. (Nella Larson, James Weldon Johnson and Charles Chesnutt, three authors who could 'pass,' gained prominence by investigating this phenomenon.) As social deviants effectively subverting the system, 'passers' were able to gain a certain social status that would not normally have been accessible to them; however, the psychological impact of that transition plays heavily upon the subject. While to the public a 'passer' appears white, the 'passer' remains destabilized by the constant fear of betraying their 'true' identity. Also, the 'one drop rule' demarcates the race line. THe subject never forgets that he or she remains inferior according the metaphysical and epistemological beliefs that their society holds. In many cases, one member of the family can 'pass' and others cannot. The result often leads to a conflict within the family or a final choice that must be made: total assimilation or total withdrawal. This is, of course, not always the case. There are many fictional accounts (presumably grounded in real events) where protagonist strategically 'passed' when 'passing' became advantageous. Even then though the subject remains suspended between two distinct social and cultural identities that are systematically reinforced.

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  2. Building from your question and Tim's response, it is interesting to consider what passing means in the queer community. The choice to pass as heterosexual is a tempting one. Even if just at work or another specific context, the ability to retain the privileges of heterosexuality and not have to deal with the conversations, discrimination, fear, etc. is an option that most LGBT people have that most people of color do not. Still, as Tim noted, this choice does not come without consequences. Passing plays into the dominant system, reinforcing the idea that there is something to be hidden and that difference should be suppressed. I still struggle with this decision fairly regularly. In his book Becoming a Man, Paul Monette writes, "When you finally come out, there’s a pain that stops, and you know it will never hurt like that again, no matter how much you lose or how bad you die.” There's a power in accepting your own difference and presenting it to others openly rather than hiding it away. Still, as you said, I don't think that we have a right to judge those who choose not to step out (for the most part; I have no problem with those who out homophobic closeted politicians) because the weight of stepping out is so heavy.

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