Hey Girls

Today was a day for deep thinking about experimentation and reaction.

After our conference, Professor Crenshaw and Harris told me that I had been invisible to the audience eyes as a white woman for sure, as an individual, perhaps.

Professor Harris was asked if the African American Policy Forum had white collaborators, and he bluntly pointed out at me, who had been there with camera on hands for the whole session. When racialization happened to my former colleague Dror, who is a white male and used to work and hang out with Professors Crenshaw and Harris and other scholars of color, I was surprised.

In my case, racialization came with a sense of disregard to the female presence. With this experience I moved closer to an intersectional space, where gender and race become a barrier for recognition, for acknowledgement, and for empowerment. As I left the room with my mind confused, with a sense of failure for myself and for my team, I also left the room with a better sense of self and with a better sense of the daily struggles faced by women, especially of the lower castes, in the predominantly-male academic environment of the Delhi of many religions (today our audience was predominantly Muslim). Perhaps, this dynamic is cross-sectoral as well.

In the context of India, I question myself how this experience translate to all Indian women, but especially to Dalit women -- as it especially affects women of color as well.

In a country where the denial of caste works in contradiction to the fact that one's possibilities and perspectives are arranged through caste politics, the intersectional engine of gender and caste is omnipresent. Caste is not as rigid as one would think when it functions for increasing oppression, especially against women. Caste is rigid when it functions in relation to upward mobility.

It seems that just like I was moved from calmer waters to a storm, Indian women have to make daily decisions -- of all scales -- which can easily place them in really unsafe seas. Marriage is just one of these decisions.

Few of them yet dare to face the storm right on, but I want to guess that most of them are aware of it, are affected by its collateral forces, and have already imagined themselves getting really wet!

Despite having seen so many times the intersectional engine working against women of color, today its power became visible in relation to Indian women (just as a side note, there was no women seated on the round table) more pressing against my friends and colleagues of color and, surprisingly and in a different way, against me.

Ps.: It is nice to see that our blog is becoming a space for honest reflection on how our learning makes possible a very urgent and rapid discovery of our own biases and understandings as well as of our role in this process; our role as conscious students; our role as engaged global citizens and our role as students of CRT.

Women/Men Relations

When I step out with my team of an African-American man, an African-American woman, a blond Brazilian woman and a Nigerian woman, I am used to being the one that is often approached by the Indians around us. I assumed that it had to do with people thinking I'm from here, maybe can speak Hindi, or perhaps they feel that they can identify with me as a fellow Indian. However, there are also automatic assumptions made about me as an Indian girl, incorrect assumptions that reflect cultural gender and caste stereotypes that I am starting to recognize, both as they are targeted towards me, and as they are seen in the women and men surrounding us.

Yesterday's panel discussion at the Dalit Foundation declared how women were becoming strong leaders in the Dalit movement. Ironically, however, in a room full of eight women and two men representing the Young Partners (YP) of the Dalit Foundation, the men dominated the conversation, answering every one of our questions first and sometimes interrupting when a girl would timidly try to respond to a query. Additionally, although we are a team of five people and were all sitting together on one side of the room, every YP would direct their answers specifically to Professor Harris- the only man in the room. Such blatant submission to the men by the women in the room both surprised and annoyed me, as I could not imagine myself acting in the same manner if I were in a similar situation.

Today, I was speaking with a professor after our panel discussion on the research that the African American Policy Forum was conducting, as well as my personal goals during the course of these two weeks, and the man seemed to be impressed by my ideas as well as my educational background. Then the situation changed when he ended the conversation with the statement, "Well, make sure you know how to cook well, and eat after your [future]husband." I was astonished at the implication that although I might be well-educated, one of the most important considerations for my future would be that I be able to cook well, and then additionally, make sure I follow the traditional cultural stipulation that women must first serve the men and eat later. This was coming from a man who had attended college in the United States and had continued his education to become a professor at this institution! Surely such an educated man would have realized that such cultural stereotypes are not necessary, certainly not universal, and shows an inherent discrimination against women? By his actions he unnecessarily perpetuates a gender bias, and continues the indoctrination of women being subservient to men.

Observing this type of blatant discrimination in action, as well as seeing other women, whose job it is to actively promote the Dalit movement, defer to the men's opinion on a variety of Dalit issues, expresses the notion that gender stereotypes continue to be expressed as well as followed even in the modern context of an urban city in this, the world's largest democracy. Until such implications are addressed as obvious errors in the cultural realm, particularly among the educated, it is unclear that discrimination against women on a more widespread basis can ever be adequately addressed and remedied.

No Man is an Island

"I am not tragically colored. There is no great sorrow dammed up in my soul, nor lurking behind my eyes. I do not mind at all"

-Zora Neale Hurston


Today was a difficult day. I had been warned that as a tall black woman I would stand out on the streets of Delhi. The first time I heard this, I shrugged. I remember tossing back somethingly typically cavalier--along the lines of :

"Oh, please I get stared at Zabar's. I can handle it."

That is still true. Growing up in an affluent section of Long Island I have a long history of stares preceding taunting, threats, and other forms of aggression. Even without stares--I have I have pretended not to notice when every rickshaw or cab driver cranes his neck to peek in our car window as we pass by. But the past few days have been difficult--and the pressure is beginning to build on me. Unfortunately, I am used to being the only one "like me". Let me be more specific, I am used to fighting back against the negative attention that that scenario usually accompanies. I have been overwhelmed by the attention I've received, but what is more troubling is the fact that I don't know what meaning is behind it. To put this in context--this is a country where the repression and even at time the existence of caste-based violence is repressed. Although the global press rarely if ever comments on this, the Dalit are the target of systematic violence throughout the country. The conferences we have attended over the past few days have been small and sponsored by activists, many of them Dalit themselves with several female attendees. Today's conference, however, featured a large and almost exclusively male and presumably non-Dalit audience. When Noopur and I entered the room, our relative height made us stand out, as well as my features, something I was becoming increasingly aware of. It had been this afternoon when a man from a group sitting next to me during lunch turned to me and asked with hushed fascination

"Excuse me, where are you from?"

My own reaction surprised me when I felt my the corners of my mouth curl up before I simply said, "The United States." The issue of my identity, as the child of Nigerian immigrants, often presents a different picture of the "blackness" than that which people have come to expect and usually presents a presumption of my not belonging in a particular space. Yet instead of the weary indignation this comment usually musters, the sheepishness of the question made me smile. In that instance I could be sure that it was a question that was purely innocent. In today's conference I was not as sure.

It was the sort of experience that crystalized my reasons for coming to India. Moving through this envronment has triggered all the defenses I had erected to deal with rascism in the past. So what was disturbing today was not the attention I received, but it was the fact that I had no idea what the intentions were and had no way to react to it. Several reactions followed--fear, anger and mostly sadness--all of which left me confused.

I put the quote above to ask myself the following question:

If being the "other" is a neutral term, what about that type of alienation is so negative? I invite your responses. Thank you

Women's Paradoxical Roles

Much of our discussion today with the Young Program coordinators of the Dalit Foundation as well as with the editors of Insight magazine centered around the role of women in the Dalit movement. Today's meetings were more informal roundtable-style meetings where the dialogue was punctuated, for a change, with an opportunity for us to ask the members of both groups a variety of questions we had, and it ended up focusing on the many roles of Dalit women. One of the most fascinating dichotomies that came into play was that Dalit women are at the forefront of the Dalit movement, with strong views and a growing confidence in publicly articulating the discrimination they have faced and coming up with ideas to combat these problems. It is interesting to contrast this notion with the lack of similar involvement by women in the Black movement in the United States, where racial problems are often framed to be more of an issue of masculinity than of affecting both men and women as a whole.
However, when dealing with other issues that Dalit women face, such as being the primary targets of retaliation for intercaste arguments, and being unable to access justice in the legal system to remedy these kinds of atrocities that have been committed against them, such as gang-rape and beatings, it brings into focus a kind of paradox in the lives of many Dalit women, particularly in the rural areas. Although they may be the centers of their communities, with the ability to influence and effect changes specifically for women as well as the movement as a whole, without an ability to acess justice for themselves as individuals, they cannot adequate fulfill their roles as leaders. Perhaps this paradox is the manifestation of the ideal (women as leaders) in conjunction with reality (women as targeted victims), and is a concept that must continue to be examined and questioned in order for these two differing views to be reconciled.

The World's Greatest Democracy

Today our group had a series of powerful conversations about the process of positive identity building in the Dalit community. I find this significant because affirmative action movements in India as well as the United States are met with resistance by people who refuse to accept that race and caste discrimination is not only pervasive but are traceable causes of the inequality experienced by disenfranchised minorities in both countries. By confronting their identity as Dalit publically they are able to raise awareness of their alienation---and eliminate arguments that caste "does not exist."

I must confess that I had thought the caste structure had largely withered away with the establishment of the Indian Republic. If caste existed at all, I had been fairly certain it was mostly predicated on phenotypic lines. After my conversation with Dalit activists, it is clear that this is simply not true in either the rural or the urban context. India is enjoying a "global moment" and its burgeoning economy is now mentioned in conjunction with any conversation invoking the "world's greatest democracy." According to Professor Crenshaw, caste is a word that does not have a place in development discussions outside of India. Even internally, many urban dwellers claim to be caste blind. However, rural atrocities such as gang-rapes and murders are inflicted upon Dalit who dare to push back against the power structure of their villages. Newspapers are reluctant to report these incidents and they are not dealt with in the national press. When, Anoop, who works for INSIGHT magazine (a publication devoted to the plight of Dalits in India) presses journalists on their position, he is told that its is ultimately "in India's best interest" to maintain the appearance of a peaceful and tolerant society. This attitude is incredibly oppressive. Yet, members of the Dalit Foundation appear to have found a unique means of fighting back. In our meeting with them we learned that the word "Dalit" is now taken to mean a person who believes in equality. The implication is of course a belief that there is a deep structural inequality to be combated through government efforts for equal opportunities.

It would seem that the Dalit versus Hindu nationalist view tracks more closely with the silence of a female voice in the Black movement. Even at this time, after the black movement has largely quieted down. This is siginficant because without a multiplicity of voices from the wide swath (or voices at all) it will be hard to present the case for a continuing need for equal opportunity.

Looking forward to my own project, looking at intersections of disability and caste I can begin a critical assessment of "success stories". The narratives published by the N.C.P.E.D.P. , the national disability association provide stories of triumph where disabilities are usually locomotive and more importantly did not appear at birth. Unlike Dalit, these men and women have two opportunities to form an identity. Even though the statistics for hiring of disabled persons is still low (less that 2% of India's top 100 companies), ironically the visibility of their disability may be beneficial to them.

Day Two- Insight, Dalit Festival and Surprisingly Revealing Insights About Myself

Today, we had an appointment at the Indian Social Institute to meet with Dalit members who are involved with Insight, a magazine which works to educate and promote awareness of Dalit issues. It was a very productive meeting; everyone seemed very engaged, and there were a variety of viewpoints shared. One lady who came with her daughter offered reasoned opinions and asked penetrating questions regarding the role of the women’s movement in the United States, and how it compared to the potential for the Dalit women’s movement to succeed (which directly relates to my project). Professor Crenshaw offered a critique of the current state of the American movement of women, particularly highlighting that the black feminism movement is not a grassroots movement but an academic one, and how, due to the current political climate in the United States, now is the moment for a global feminism movement because such a presidential campaign can spark new energy and interest in discussing the progress of intersectional feminism.

Another man continually interrupted Professor Crenshaw, and declared challengingly that “We (as Dalits) have it worse than you do (as African Americans in the United States). It was interesting to see Professors Crenshaw and Harris handle his outbursts in a very calm and rational matter, and discuss the idea that this is a global struggle against many common issues- colonialism, white privilege, social hierarchies to name a few. It made it seem like this isn’t the first time that such a reaction has occurred. It offers a reminder that we are dealing with sensitive and explosive issues relating to the intersectionalities of race, caste, and class, and people have strong personal opinions that we must honor and appreciate while continuing the dialogue. Additionally, this discussion and debate cannot purely be held in a neutral academic setting; the emotional backgrounds of persons involved in these communities must be taken into account as well, and how to transform this energy into mutual understanding of both (similar) situations.

When I received the Dalit study circle book, I didn’t sign it, and I fumbled with it for a bit as I figured out what to do before passing it on. I found myself somewhat apprehensive of someone asking why I didn’t, or if I’m a Dalit, because I wasn’t sure how to reply to the inquiry without coming off as discriminatory or too forceful in my denial. It made me consider how non-Dalits who support the movement deal with their dual roles as not being members of the community, but still advocating for Dalits. Unlike the United States, where differences in race can often easily be perceived by sight, its almost impossible to determine who is a Dalit simply by looking at a person. My experience and questions underlie a larger inquiry about the ability to handle activisim in conjunction with perceptions of caste and class that have been established for thousands of years and are nearly ingrained in the minds of the Indian population.

Similarly, today, in addition to be mistaken as a Dalit, I was also taken for a native of Delhi, a girl from Bombay, and told that I look South Indian. My immediate reaction to the last remark greatly surprised me; the first thing I thought was “I’m not dark enough to be South Indian.” Although I quickly recovered and realized that the man meant my features looked South Indian, and was not at all commenting on the color of my skin, it was telling to me to see how I have also been indoctrinated with the concepts of fair skin as it relates to a person’s background and hometown. It was an eye-opening experience for me, as a part of the Indian community, to see that even as a student in this environment, my personal history may influence my perception of the individuals around me, a bias I must consider and overcome as I continue to learn during this trip and conduct impartial academic research on my project.

Professors Crenshaw, Harris and Camila went from the conference to attend a Dalit festival, an initiative of the Dalit Foundation to create a space for Dalits all over India that is conducive to communication, cultural immersion and enjoyment. It offered a mixture of live music, Godda paintings (indigenous/Dalit art) and original writings from Dr. Ambedkar, and showcased the beauty of grassroots mobilization in building a strong sense of Dalit identity and empowerment. One of the revelations that came from talking to people at the festival was that Hinduism is a very recent invention in India- it is only about 160 years old. This invariably leads to questions that directly affect the Dalit Community, such as how Hinduism came to be so intrinsically interrelated with the caste system that is thousands of years older?

These are questions we will continue to ask today, as we meet with the editors of Insight, as well as visiting the Dalit Foundation so we will have the opportunity to get a second look at the community building initiatives that are taking place all across India.

First Impressions

Hey Everyone,

Noopur and I arrived at the Rai Foundation, our hosts in Delhi, where we were reunited with Camila. After a scandalously late dinner we sat down and spoke about our initial impressions of India. As we start this project it is clear that we are coming from different backgrounds and different perspectives. Camila and I are both outsiders to this culture, whereas Noopur is an Indian American with a significant family presence in India. Camila is Brazilian and has been immediately struck by the contrast between the disorganization of Delhi's urban space and the "human heat" of this urban environment as opposed to the rigid social hierarchy that is presented in academic writings. On my part, as a Nigerian-American, I am struck by the familiarity I feel with Delhi. A warm city at night reminds me of Manhattan or even Lagos. But Delhi has neither the schizophrenic layout of New York's cultural quilt or the glaring economic tensions of Lagos. Instead it seems like a surprisingly peaceful place. For the moment I cannot make out the differences (phenotypic or otherwise ) that mark out caste and class. Noopur, who has been to India at least 12 times, is not as struck by the cows or lorrys intermixed with Mercedes Benzes. She is instead taking this opportunity to recognize that this trip has afforded her an opportunity to examine her culture with a fresh set of eyes. As we move forward in our exploration of Dalit, woman and the disabled she recognizes that she can step back and employ our culture shock to de-normalize her experience and recognize cultural signifiers with a new level of understanding.

For Camila and I, these are the kind of observations that a simple ride from the airport brought up on the first day. We know that some will be answered shortly whereas some will grow larger.

These are the questions that we already have:

What does caste look like?
Is it invisible ?
How and why is organized as such? What does it mean?

In just looking at the urban space we can see that caste and class have a much more complicated dynamic than what one would expect. To our untrained eye, the arrangement seems random and it also seems that there is a sense of Indian unity, of all Indians sharing space even if there are different economic circumstances. We concede that this may be a result of us not being aware of what else should be in this picture. Its a very raw analysis to be sure, but we want to record what we find striking.

The next question we have is, how much will this inform our analysis going forward? When you read about India you think about a very rigid system of stratification. However, when you arrive in an urban space that is not in the least as apparently stratified, (especially when compared to the hierachial academic treatment)--it is difficult to understand in a superficial analysis. There must be are forces driving exclusion and inequality that are now unfamiliar to us. Our hunch is that these forces are not now salient to us, but as we move forward we believe that this will change.

This brings us to the issue of invisibility of caste. According to Noopur, the insider of the group, there are markers that will place someone in a particular social category. One's name, parent's profession, are markers that are derived from ecomomic status. This leads to the next set of queries.


Where does skin color come into play? Can we clearly distinguish "pale" privilege?

This is a very early introduction for this weighty question, but we are asking ourselves if skin color this something that accompanies caste. There is a cultural preference for fairer skin and higher caste individuals tend to be fairer. What is actually attributed to caste and attributed to color is something to determine. I have a theory about the relationship of skin color to post colonial society. In the Nigerian example, skin color has not always tracked to privilege, such that for a significant period of time darker skinned people actually held sway over lighter skinned people. After colonialism and the Revolution, there is a societal function to white privilege but it is not determinative of quality of life. I wonder if our queries into the relationship between caste and class in India will involve cultural antecedents as well. Only time will tell. The volume of our queries leads us to conclude that this is an area where we will want to learn more before drawing any conclusions.