Jason Lim is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture.
My culture is not your… prom dress
By Jason Lim
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Them's the fighting words that Jeremy Lam tweeted over seeing Keziah Daum, a Utah high school student, posting photos of herself wearing a red Chinese qipao, or cheongsam, to her school prom. The tweet led to an onslaught of cultural appropriation accusations against Daum for wearing the traditional Chinese dress.
Admittedly, I am somewhat confused over the concept of cultural appropriation. So, questions. Do you have to be a member of a certain cultural tradition to have the right to display artifacts that are primarily identified with that particular culture? And does being a member of that culture imbue you with the sense of ownership that gives you the right to exclude anyone not a member of that same culture the right to display the artifacts?
Is cultural appropriation about context? Is it okay for Melanie Trump to wear a traditional Chinese dress for the state dinner in China because it's a gesture of appreciation to the hosts? But it's not okay for Daum to wear a traditional Chinese dress to her high school prom because it's not Chinese-themed?
In that case, what if Daum had spent some time growing up in China, had a Chinese-American boyfriend, took Chinese language in high school, or was a huge fan of Gong Li? Would any one of these activities cross some contextual threshold that would allow her to wear the dress without criticism?
I try to keep an open mind about this. It seems that those accusing Daum of cultural appropriation have some real issues with a white girl wearing a Chinese dress. They seem genuinely angry. In trying to understand the sincerity of their anger, I read up on many of the arguments why Daum is wrong for wearing the dress.
One has to do with power dynamics. The majority culture _ in this case, white _ shouldn't take, without permission, traditional knowledge, cultural expressions, or artifacts from someone else's culture, especially if that culture has traditionally been oppressed or exploited by the majority culture. But, if I am white and want to study acupuncture, does that mean that I have to get “permission” from some central Chinese cultural authority? If I am white and want to play jazz, does that mean I have to make a pilgrimage to New Orleans? If I am white, am I still allowed to like K-pop or movies by Zhang Yimou? As a white person, what am I allowed to explore as an expression of my personal cultural tastes?
Another has to do with cultural narrative. It argues that every cultural artifact has a culturally significant context that needs to be present to justify a non-member to wield the artifact. But who owns the narrative in this case? Just because I am ethnically Korean, does that mean that I can exclude non-Koreans from doing something traditionally considered Korean, such as taekwondo or Samulnori because they are not being practiced within a Korea-specific narrative? Should Japanese Americans have the right to stop Hollywood from turning turtles into ninjas or starring Tom Cruise in The Last Samurai? China has an incredibly rich cultural tradition _ should all the associated artifacts be limited in appreciation or display only within the confines of the original cultural narrative? And who decides that narrative compliance?
Another one has to with commoditizing culture. This argues that the consumers of another's culture should study up on the commoditized aspect of the particular culture before consuming it because it will give you an appreciation of what the in-group member of that cultural tribe went through to earn the chops in that culture. But, why? Why do I need to understand the painstaking training involved in being a sashimi chef to enjoy the dish? Why should Daum need to take a cultural anthropology course on Chinese American marginalization in 20th century America to wear the dress to her prom?
I haven't found any argument against Daum that, when taken to their logical conclusion, holds up rationally. People who are angry at her can't articulate their anger logically, so they throw up accusations of cultural appropriation and spew out nonsensical, self-righteous diatribe to justify their anger. And if you don't empathize, or share in the outrage, then you are a part of the problem _ kind of ironic for a population that traditionally suffered from being marginalized as the “other.”
This episode reminds me of a story that I heard from a Zen master. As an apprentice monk, his teacher sent him out into the everyday world to live among the people. After some years, the teacher called him back to become ordained, but the apprentice monk refused, arguing that he wanted to stay on the outside and help drive change from without. The teacher scolded him by saying, “There is only the inside because you are insisting on the outside.”
Feeling righteously angry is always satisfying but rarely constructive. I think this whole episode is about people who feel marginalized wanting to lash back at what they view as the majority culture by creating an inside by insisting on an outside, and using superficial arguments to draw the boundary.
Jason Lim (jasonlim@msn.com) is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture.