activism – ��Ӱ��

Expansion of Asian American Studies Fueled By Racial Attacks and Activism

Pawan Dhingra — Thu, 23 May 2024 16:00:00 +0000

This article was originally published in

For more than 50 years, Asian American studies has been a recognized field at American colleges and universities. But outside of California, students who want to study it as a major or minor are usually out of luck.

However, the tide is beginning to turn.

Duke University in 2022. Harvard University, for not offering enough courses in ethnic studies, hired members in Asian American studies over the past two years.

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Vanderbilt University announced its in the field in 2023. That same year, Williams College , akin to a minor, and started its minor.

Amherst College, where , a major in Asian American and Pacific Islander studies, to start in the fall of 2024. Amherst will be the first liberal arts college in the country with its own major in the field.

Southern California’s – Claremont McKenna, Harvey Mudd, Pitzer, Pomona and Scripps – have collectively offered a shared major for 25 years. Public high schools across the country have in content on Asian Americans.

Decades of lobbying

These programs did not get going overnight. Students on these campuses – and others – campaigned for Asian American studies for years. Across the nation, student activists in , and continue to lobby for more courses and for majors or minors in the field.

But if student activism and faculty interest were all it took to achieve curricular change, Asian American studies and related fields would have been popping up on campuses long ago. At Amherst, students had been pushing for greater attention to Asian American studies for .

The recent commitment to teaching more courses and hiring permanent faculty – as opposed to visiting faculty – stems, in part, from tragedy. Programs began to grow as attacks on Asian Americans, including the in Atlanta, . Former President Donald Trump’s repeated reference to COVID-19 as the “” added rhetorical fuel to racial animosity.

Battles against discrimination inspire new programs

Historically, ethnic studies programs have come into existence after protests against public discrimination. The , Native, Latino and Asian American studies in California followed the Civil Rights Movement and .

The discriminatory attacks that increased during the pandemic inspired a among Asian American students. They wanted to embrace their heritage and see their own histories and experiences represented in course offerings. The attacks also made university administrators recognize that – contrary to their stereotype as problem-free, high achievers – Asian Americans experience a in which they are “forever foreign.” They deserve greater attention in the college curriculum.

As more schools join the roster of colleges offering programs in Asian American studies, the material included within Asian American studies is also expanding. The most common subjects in the Asian American program are cultural studies, literary studies and other interdisciplinary areas in the humanities. The field also has drawn on history and sociology, subjects that similarly question popular views about which racial groups have been in authority and why.

Now, prominent topics within Asian American studies include and critiques of the ” and U.S. militarization.

Proponents of Asian American studies may be more likely to hold political views such as and for that share the perspectives found in these topics. Given that Asian American studies started in the 1960s and 1970s because of student , political activism has remained central to the field.

The field’s foundation in the humanities and humanistic social sciences, however, has meant that other disciplines have been left out. This is also changing. In the past two years, for example, the Association for Asian American Studies, the largest professional association in the field, has to the study of Asian America in social sciences such as political science, anthropology, economics and psychology. At an April 2024 , the organization connected faculty from psychology, education, political science and other disciplines to the field and vice versa. It also provided a mentoring program for these faculty.

The field will likely continue to add to its areas of representation as it expands on campuses. A more comprehensive look at Asian American experiences may lead to a better understanding of the recent conditions that caused the number of programs on college campuses to increase. Understanding the rise of violence against Asian Americans, for instance, requires knowledge of the U.S. wars in Asia and their connection to individual Americans’ social psychology.

More than 50 years ago, Asian American studies were almost unheard of. In another 50 years, perhaps, programs that similarly combine subjects from multiple disciplines may become mainstream.

This article is republished from under a Creative Commons license. Read the .

Bringing 1619 Project, Black History to Life for Young Readers

Marianna McMurdock — Tue, 22 Feb 2022 22:01:00 +0000

Nikkolas Smith is not surprised by the book bans and culture of fear dominating schools in his home state of Texas.

If anything, recent events make his work as a children’s book illustrator and self-described “artivist” more urgent.

“I’m gonna keep making books that will probably be on banned lists… because all they do is tell the truth about history. And it’s just ridiculous that accurate history is trying to be suppressed, basically, by those in power who have benefited from racism for centuries,” said Smith, who collaborated with Nikole Hannah-Jones to illustrate The 1619 Project for children.

Growing up in Houston, he was taught to celebrate the tales of Davey Crockett and the Alamo — “whitewashed” stories “always from one perspective:” glorifying those who owned and killed other human beings, he told ��Ӱ��.

Now, alongside the words of Hannah-Jones and children’s book author Renée Watson, Smith’s art flips the script to teach young readers the legacy of slavery rooted in humanity; a Black history rooted in joy.

In Born on the Water, the to The 1619 Project, Smith’s paintings bring the cultures of West Africans to life, showing the pre-enslavement history often omitted from classrooms.

“One of the things that me and Nikole talk about is there’s so much rich history, and culture, and so much joy in these tribes and these people that were stolen from their land,” Smith told ��Ӱ��. “You really have to understand all of that to understand how heavy it was, and how tragic it was… We really just wanted to show that life.”

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Nikkolas Smith uses a Wacom tablet and Photoshop to paint digitally. Some days, he takes the setup outside to work in the sun. (Vanessa Crocini)

From his plant-filled Los Angeles home, Smith paired Hannah-Jones and Watson’s poetry with family traditions, beautiful hair, dances, imagery that evoked death and spirits. Using a digital , his illustrations began as monochrome shapes and skeletons in Photoshop, impressions of how he felt after reading and internalizing their verses.

The book hit shelves last fall amid a wave of proposed state laws aimed at preventing students from learning a mythical “critical race theory” and “divisive concepts.” In , legislation attempted to ban the 1619 Project explicitly. So far, Florida has succeeded.

While a vocal minority of lawmakers and parents believe school aged children are too young to grapple with just how violence against Black people was intrinsic to the nation’s founding, many for the content. Born on the Water topped bestseller lists as families headed into 2022, looking for ways to talk to children about the country they’ll inherit.

Smith’s artistic approach seemed a natural fit. In digital paintings, he added layer after layer of color and symbols — clouds modeled after picked cotton, the shape of a person sinking underwater, or a green toy tied to a tree, the only sign of life left after colonizers stole a tribe — to convey anger and fear in ways young readers could feel without being traumatized by explicit violence.

“What Grandma Tells Me” spread by Nikkolas Smith.

Long-inspired by Nina Simone “,” he’d balanced trauma and life in children’s illustrations for years, painting Tamir Rice, Elijah McClain and others killed by police.

His second book, , explored the internalized hatred young Black children develop from racism and microaggressions.

Through , which he describes as “art as therapy”, he tries to help himself and viewers heal “the broken bones of society.”

“For them to say, we have a book about the transatlantic slave trade and slavery, and all of these very heavy things that we as Black people in America, we think about it all the time … I felt like that’s one of the biggest broken bones in America,” he said.

Hidden in the clouds are equations, rockets, the capitol under construction, showing the ways Black people contributed intellectually, physically to build this country. The painting also acknowledges how, “we think about [slavery] all the time” — iconic American landmarks are constant reminders. On the right, Olympian Lee Evans raises a Black power fist in parallel with the Statue of Liberty’s raised arm, symbolizing how a fight for freedom is ongoing, well after the statue was erected. All of the figures, ranging generations, are in the same water, bound by the legacy of slavery.

“…Remember that these weren’t slaves that were taken, these were brilliant people, and they did some amazing things … They knew how to design and build cities, they built this country, and that’s why they were stolen, because they were brilliant and good at what they do. We just want to remind people of that, and also how much they fought and resisted and got their freedom back.”

Printed on the inside cover are the symbols for Life, Death, and Rebirth used throughout the book, modeled after African scarification patterns. “I want people, especially younger folks, to be able to grasp the heaviness of what happened without it being too in-your-face about the tragic moments.” Smith said.

“And [for] the young folks who are not Black, there’s no shame in anything we’re saying. We want people to grow up having an accurate understanding of what happened in this country. I feel like it’s really not until we address all of these things openly and honestly that we’re gonna really grow and move forward as a nation.”
—Nikkolas Smith

A two-page wordless spread of the White Lion ship, used to transport people to the Americas, lands in the center of Born on the Water. Here, Smith’s “X” symbols for death are everywhere, and the image is framed so that you can see the hidden hull below. Its “grotesque” nature is conveyed through harsh brushstrokes, shading and color. Typical of other spreads, there are flickers of light on the right, of a sunrise or sunset, perhaps. Smith says this was intended to convey that even in the darkest times, there is hope.

Smith blurred linear understandings of time by using symbols across generations, to help young readers understand that “[ancestors’] vision of the future, their wildest dreams are now embodied in us — [we’re] having to take that mantle and move forward.”

In this painting, it’s hard to make out just how many figures are in the purple cloud or wave. What is clear is a legacy of resistance: a man breaking shackles, a broom commonly used in marriage ceremonies, a man taking a knee in protest evoking Colin Kapaernick. All are oriented toward “an uncertain future” — one that’s brighter, hopeful.

And in faces, Smith balanced the world of feelings bound up in the Black experience: from shame, when the protagonist cannot make a family tree beyond three generations, to pride, after her grandmother recounts the rich history of tribes pre-enslavement. Her hair, in Bantu knots, and clothing give reference to past generations.

The first spread in Born on the Water is a familiar entry point for readers: the classroom.

Ultimately, Smith hopes his work can help the next generation of Black youth have a sense of pride. Over the next few months, he’ll paint scenes of Ruby Bridges, the first young person to integrate a Southern school in 1960. And next year, he’ll collaborate with celebrated author Timeka Fryer Brown on a picture book about the Confederate flag.

He expects both will end up on some banned lists.

“All we can do is keep putting the truth out there,” Smith said, “and it’ll get into the right hands.”

All paintings are illustrated by Nikkolas Smith for Born on the Water, a publication of Kokila, an imprint of Penguin Young Readers.

TX Valedictorian on Viral Speech, New Book on Ignored Abortion Stories

Marianna McMurdock — Tue, 12 Oct 2021 14:01:00 +0000

This conversation is the latest in our ongoing series of in-depth 74 Interviews (). Other notable recent interviews: Dallas Superintendent Michael Hinojosa on mask and vaccine mandates; Mary Beth Tinker on her activism that spurred a 1969 Supreme Court case to preserve students’ freedom of speech rights; and Generation Citizen CEO Elizabeth Clay Roy on why action-based civics education is patriotic.

Since Sept. 1, the country’s most restrictive ban on abortion has prevented Texans from accessing care if their pregnancy is beyond six weeks.

Two weeks after the law’s signing, then-high school senior Paxton Smith went viral for swapping her pre-approved valedictorian address to speak out against the legislation in her home state.

Since giving the speech, Smith says her life has taken a “massive shift.” Now a freshman at the University of Texas at Austin, she balances full-time school with beginning a music career and expanding her activism.

Smith is leading A War on My Body; A War on My Rights, a featuring contributors across generations, from medical professionals to reproductive rights activists and prominent women’s rights attorneys and . The book’s title references of her valedictory address.

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Her activist work, it seems, is just beginning. Smith also serves on advisory boards for two nonprofits: , which uses art and storytelling to end abortion stigmas and shame, and the , which helps individuals access safe abortions and contraceptives across the country. And on Sept. 30, she delivered another speech at Power of Women event, ending with a call to action:

“And if you can’t do it for me, and if you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for every girl who comes after us, every young person who comes after us. Because they are counting on you. So what will you do?”

It’s unclear when Smith and others Texans will regain access to legal abortions. Though a to the conservative Fifth Circuit. The Supreme Court did not delay or prevent the law from taking effect, refusing to act on an emergency appeal made by abortion providers in early September. will likely not pass the Senate.

President Biden has openly the Texas ban, issuing a statement that it “will significantly impair women’s access to the health care they need, particularly for communities of color and individuals with low incomes.”

Health care providers, lawyers and activists await December 1, when the Supreme Court will hear a Mississippi case challenging the state’s ban on most abortions after 15 weeks. Their decision may upend or solidify Roe v. Wade’s protection of the right to choose prior to “viability,” typically around 24 weeks.

��Ӱ�� spoke with Paxton Smith to get a pulse on how she feels given federal moves and why she’s decided to continue her activism through the collaborative book.

This conversation has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

What spurred your personal activism — was it in any way connected to or motivated by your education experiences?

My personal activism really sparked with the speech. In giving the speech, really what I wanted was for people to understand how it felt, what it really meant for a piece of legislation like this to go into effect and understand that having a pregnancy can have life-changing effects. Nobody else should have the right to make that life-changing decision than me. I am the person that’s going to live that future and I should be the one making those decisions. I wanted people to understand … what it felt like for the decision to be taken out of my hands and put into the hands of a stranger.

I know you’ve mentioned before that your family has often had open conversations on politics and other controversial issues at home even though you sometimes disagree — did you have that openness to talk and explore these issues during the school day as well?

Sometimes. I think in high school, a lot of times you find a niche group, where they carry a lot of the same perspectives, the same ideas. I didn’t necessarily have the exact same opportunity at school, where people might have had very different opinions than I do. But we definitely did have conversations about politics and things surrounding general human rights.

Why did you decide to continue your activism through a bigger project? How did you choose a collaborative book, and what impact do you hope that model of storytelling might have?

One of the things that this book is going to do is try and highlight the different perspectives around abortion that people don’t talk about. It’s going to highlight the racial disparities in being able to access health care. It’s going to address what it’s like being gender queer and being in a situation where you can get pregnant. It’s going to address the LGBTQ+ experience, the experience of being a minor.

The reason it’s a collaborative book is really to better accomplish that goal, of telling those stories and different perspectives. If I wrote this book alone it would come from an 18- year-old, white, upper middle-class cisgendered girl. It would continue the problem of people’s voices not being listened to, and that’s not what I wanted.

What stories or issues stuck with you after submitting the first draft of the book?

I can’t really speak to the stories in the book as of right now. But I receive hundreds of messages from people, and a lot of times people share their stories surrounding abortion. Some of the biggest things that stuck with me are the stories of what took place before Roe v. Wade, when abortion was still illegal, and people had to take medical care into their own hands.

They were getting these back-alley, unsafe abortions and . Thousands of people ended up in emergency rooms. And thousands ended up with severe, life-long injuries. Just hearing these stories — firsthand accounts of people in emergency rooms and doctors saying they are not willing to help because they’re scared of the legal implications, or hearing the stories of people who lost their mothers to unsafe abortions — those really stick with me and motivate what I can try to do.

How did you learn about the and choose it as the place to direct proceeds?

I actually heard about the Afiya Center at a that was organized by a . Ultimately we chose them because they address the racial disparities in accessing reproductive health care. It’s incredibly important to be able to open up access to more than just white people, because everyone deserves reproductive rights and access to care.

Do you see a future for yourself in education or politics? If not those fields in particular, what are you hoping to do in the future?

I’m actually hoping to become a musical performing artist. I make pop and pop-alternative music. I mostly do it alone. I played trumpet for about eight years and am pretty novice at piano and guitar. My main thing is music production.

Right now, I’m working on putting together a first album. I’m sending out some music to people to see what they think. It’s very much in the early stages but I’m excited to pursue music as a career. That has been my dream since I was a child and I have been so involved with music my entire life.

Why did you choose to stay in Texas and attend UT Austin?

I chose UT Austin mostly because of the music scene. There’s a lot of music downtown so I’m hoping to do some live gigs once or twice a week. My life has taken a massive shift with the speech and the activism takes up a lot of time.

What are your songs about? Do you imagine incorporating your activism into your lyrics and songwriting?

I think there’s definitely room to incorporate activism in songwriting. Generally, I write music about what I’m experiencing, thinking and feeling. My life is what runs through the core of all my music, so naturally some of it will be charged with my activism.

I wonder if we could reflect briefly about what’s happening at the federal level. SCOTUS refused to block Texas’s law and the House passed the Women’s Health Protection Act, an attempt to codify the rights established with Roe, though it’s unlikely to pass the Senate. The Department of Justice is also your home state, but that hasn’t reopened access. How are you feeling in light of these moves? How do you hope your peers might push for reproductive rights at this moment?

I’m feeling very hopeful. Really right now there’s a lot of things up in the air and it’s kind of hard to tell where things will land. I’m hoping that my peers continue to do what they’re doing now, which is putting pressure on legislators, bringing attention to the topic and all in all, making it extremely clear that they believe that abortion is a human right.

A War on My Body; A War on My Rights will be released Jan. 22, 2022, the 49th anniversary of the Roe v. Wade decision, by Di Angelo Publications, a small press in Houston. All proceeds will be donated to , a reproductive justice organization run by and for Black women and girls to transform relationships to sexual and reproductive health. The center educates and provides resources to break down racial inequities, decreasing maternal death and HIV rates.

activism – ����Ӱ��

Expansion of Asian American Studies Fueled By Racial Attacks and Activism

Decades of lobbying

Battles against discrimination inspire new programs

Bringing 1619 Project, Black History to Life for Young Readers

Nikkolas Smith is not surprised by the book bans and culture of fear dominating schools in his home state of Texas.

If anything, recent events make his work as a children’s book illustrator and self-described “artivist” more urgent.

Growing up in Houston, he was taught to celebrate the tales of Davey Crockett and the Alamo — “whitewashed” stories “always from one perspective:” glorifying those who owned and killed other human beings, he told ����Ӱ��.

Now, alongside the words of Hannah-Jones and children’s book author Renée Watson, Smith’s art flips the script to teach young readers the legacy of slavery rooted in humanity; a Black history rooted in joy.

TX Valedictorian on Viral Speech, New Book on Ignored Abortion Stories

activism – ��Ӱ��

Growing up in Houston, he was taught to celebrate the tales of Davey Crockett and the Alamo — “whitewashed” stories “always from one perspective:” glorifying those who owned and killed other human beings, he told ��Ӱ��.