Thursday, February 19, 2015

That awkward moment when you can't tell if someone's just an asshole or if they're actually racist


Being a non-white person in white America can be confusing. Like, really confusing. Raised to believe we live in a post-racial America, we’re often forced to give white people the benefit of the doubt when they pull dumb shit. The contemporary racist is a hell of a lot harder to detect. Basically, the goal is to be offensive enough to make people feel targeted but subtle enough to get away with it. As a non-white person in white America, you’re not allowed to cry racist. If you do, you’re an oversensitive, overreacting asshole/bitch that plays the “race card” in hopes of getting some kind of compensation out of it.

I’m not saying every jerk I bump into that happens to be white is racist—not at all. I’m just saying it gets frustrating being pressured to not point out racism when it actually does happen, as well as not being able to say for sure who’s being racist because some people really don’t know better or they're just terrible people in general. Anyway, I present this anecdote:

The Pacsun that used to reside in my local shopping mall sucked ass. However, I liked their clothes, so I kept coming back. I’ve never had good customer service there before, at least nothing worth commending. On average, it was shitty. Absolute garbage. I always assumed it was just because the employees that rang me up were self-absorbed hipsters too busy trying to figure out their lives or whatever bullshit you have it. But my last few times at Pacsun were so awful that it got me wondering if there was more to the shitty customer service than I thought.

Quick summary of my treatment at Pacsun: the employees ignored me, acted stuck up, and sometimes directed sarcastic comments at me. Oh, and the same employee that made the sarcastic comment was rushing me while I was getting money out of my wallet WHEN THERE WAS NO LINE. And once, an employee totally ignored me and waited for me to hand her my card when I had actually been holding it out to her for a solid ten seconds. They usually stand behind the counter talking to each other and make me wait for a minute or two before stepping forward a whole six inches to ring me up. And while ringing me up, the cashier often continued talking to other coworkers behind the counter. And it’s not even a select few employees. I always got someone different whenever I went there, and the same thing usually happened.

After my last transaction at Pacsun, I sent Maddy an angry text message confessing my underlying hatred for our local Pacsun. She was confused.

“Whaaaat? Whenever I go in there with Kyra we end up having super long conversations with the employees and they’re really helpful.”

My mind was blown. I thought they were shitty to everyone, but obviously not if Maddy and Kyra loved them. There was no remote consideration of underlying racism up until this point. I thought to myself: do we really wanna accuse them of racism? That’s kinda hard to prove. You can’t just go around calling people racists. That’s a heavy accusation to make. But then I remembered the other (white) people getting better customer service in the store. And if I’m not getting the same treatment as Maddy and Kyra, something must be up. Keep in mind that I went to that Pacsun fairly often, so my dozens of shitty experiences were not likely to be coincidental.

Later on I asked Ally if she’s ever had shitty customer service at Pacsun.

“Well they usually don’t say anything to me. But it’s probably because I never buy anything. But you actually bought something and they still ignored you at the cash register, so that’s kinda weird.”

I’ve only had one positive customer service experience at Pacsun (that I can think of), and that was when I was with Ally (a white person). Maybe I should just remember to bring a white person with me if I want guaranteed quality customer service.

At the end of it all, the only thing I could really say for sure was that some form of discrimination was going on, whether the employees realized it or not. Maybe they really are racist, maybe they just subconsciously act snobby and lazy around average looking people. Or maybe I’m just a really unlucky person that always gets the shitty employees every single time I go to Pacsun and it really was just a terrible coincidence that I got a snob to ring me up every single goddamn time I was there. I don’t really know. Either way, it’s inexcusable. Get your shit together, Pacsun.

But let’s jump to the worst-case scenario: what if they really were racist? They would’ve gotten away with it. Why? Because the discrimination was subtle enough to not raise any eyebrows over, and overall it just wasn’t worth the hassle of contacting a manager or someone else higher up. After all, I just wanted to buy my clothes and go—I could really care less about negligent employees not asking me if I found everything okay. But that’s my exact point: people always get away with these things because we (non-white people) are pressured into brushing off these subtle moments of discrimination, and also partially because we want to believe that we’re not being discriminated against. And these racist assholes know it too.

If there’s any moral to my story of lukewarm discrimination, it’s that we shouldn’t have to put up with it anymore. Sure, it’s a mild form of discrimination, but it all adds up and essentially screws everyone over. If someone’s being racist or discriminative in any way, I shouldn’t have to feel pressured to ignore it. I should be able to call that person out and not be told I’m overreacting.

I’d also like to encourage self-awareness. It’s very possible that you may think you’re awesomely respectful and treat everyone equally well, but in reality you’re a subconsciously racist asshole and you don’t even know it. We’ll all have moments where we slip up and truly mean no harm, but it doesn’t hurt to check ourselves and be aware of our personal biases. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Marginalizing peeps ain’t really a light offense, so how about we just not?

Throwback Thursday

throwback thursday from midwest-argonaut on 8tracks Radio.

A ginormous playlist for those random nights you feel like turning up to '00s hip hop and r&b.
Featuring some of my favorite, still relevant and tasteful jams.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Valentine's Day at MIA

Valentine's Day weekend was a hoot. Ally, bless her soul, made the two and a half hour trip to join me, and together we made beautiful memories. A series of public transportation mishaps, adventures in the frigid Minnesota weather, bomb-ass food, and Impressionist paintings came together to provide the one of the best grrrl parties ever.

One of the main highlights of the weekend was our visit at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. Featuring one of the finest wide-ranging art collections in the country, from thousands-of-years-old historical artifacts to world-famous masterpieces to modern art, it's quite the gem. Check out the groovy pics, and for more info on MIA, click here.






Saturday, January 31, 2015

3:06 a.m.

3:06 a.m. from midwest-argonaut on 8tracks Radio.


01. You and I (Mazde Remix), Local Natives
02. Body Gold (Delusion Remix), Oh Wonder
03. Move on, Garden City Movement
04. Take Care of You, Saje
05. Younger (Kygo Remix), Seinabo Sey
06. Eyes Nose Lips (feat. Taeyang), Epik High
07. Spotless Mind, Jhené Aiko
08. Crazy in Love (Beyoncé Cover), Sea Oleena
09. Islands (Ark Patrol Remix), Young the Giant
10. All I Really Need (feat. Kenzie May), Vindata
11. One Day, Sharon Van Etten
12. Get Lucky (Daft Punk Cover), Gavin James
13. Pieces of You (feat. JiSun), Epik High

Winter Break: Why I was too busy to update my blog

Ok, I admit that it was a little irresponsible of me to neglect my blog for two months. But in my defense, it's a lot harder than it looks. To make up for it, I made this fantastic collage which summarizes my Winter Break experience. It was ultimately defined by The Office (I watched all nine seasons and it was one of the best decisions of my life), a quarter pounder with cheese, zines, sparkling pomegranate juice from Trader Joe's, vanilla and cinnamon black tea from Trader Joe's, and Kanye West. Well actually, there's a lot more to it. 

Here's an excerpt from a zine I made a few weeks ago:

New Habits
01. Obsessive tea-making
02. Saying the words "thang" and "thangz"
03. Texting people useless information at 3 in the morning
04. Accidentally impersonating people from The Office mid-conversation
05. Having dreams about characters from The Office 
06. Mentally assigning characters from The Office to people at work
07. Jamming out to Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" in the car
08. Ducking when the parrot flies around the house 
09. Sleeping between 3 and 6 AM
10. Hoarding and scanning ads I find in old National Geographic magazines dating from 1936-1988 for future collage purposes

New Discoveries
01. A convincing Rookie article that made me like Kanye West a lot more and made me realize that just maybe we could be really good friends
02. The "Highway 61 Revisited" record I never knew I left behind
03. Havarti cheese
04. Giant stash of NatGeo magazines from the 1930s hiding in the garage
05. The joys of zine making
06. Trader Joe's tea
07. BB cream (I finally got around to buying some)
08. Indonesian salsa (it does not taste like something you dip your chips in)
09. My inner ping pong master
10. "German dungeon porn" as a phrase to be acted out in charades

Exciting Things I Did
01. Complete the Midwest Argonaut Vol. 4 with Maddy
02. Watch The Office
03. Make my very first zine
04. Go on a late night McDonald's run
05. Attend another grownup party with charades and Cards Against Humanity
06. Attend a white elephant party
07. Go ice skating*
08. Have lunch with Joel
09. Friend gatherings at the Osmon house
10. Go on a Target run with Rachelle

*At the time I wrote that, I assumed I was going to go ice skating within the next few days. I never actually did go ice skating.

Concert Anecdote: Seinabo Sey at the Triple Rock Social Club

At 6:50 pm, Raisa and I had completed our long journey to the Triple Rock Social Club. It took walking through underground passageways, misguided directions from Google Maps, and braving the blustery weather. Much to our disappointment, the door was locked. We peered through the dark windows––not a soul in sight.

“Shoot, doors must not open until 7:30.”
“What now…”
“We could hang out in the African grocery store.”

So we spent the next 40 minutes inside of the African grocery store. Strolling around the aisles, we practiced our Arabic by reading just about every packaged and canned food item on the shelves.

“California beans...”
“Cumin… cinnamon––wow, that’s a lot of honey.”
“What does filfil mean?”
“Oh it means pepper––Moroccan sardines!”
“Chicken biryani––nailed it!”

After finishing our Arabic practice session, we loitered amongst the shelves and filled the last twenty minutes with conversation. Finally, around 7:30 we snuck out of the store and walked back to the music venue.

Once we were admitted into the club, we sat on the edge of the stage and conversed for yet another hour. If you really want to know, we talked about cultural differences between the Middle East and East Asia, conflicting viewpoints between the cultures we belong in, white feminism, and boys, among other things.

Around 8:30 the opening act, Gavin James, presented himself. James is an on-the-rise singer songwriter from Dublin. I’ll admit I had no idea who he was––but I was rather impressed when I read that he had toured with Marina & the Diamonds, Ingrid Michaelson, and Lianne La Havas, among others. Not to mention he won the Irish Choice Music Prize Award for ‘Song of the Year’.

But needless to say, I was captivated by him from the beginning. Strumming away at his guitar and crooning, I couldn’t help but think to myself, this would be great if I had a cute guy with me. There was something so honest and sweet in his words and the chords he strummed. I thoroughly enjoyed his performance. For his last song, he played a cover of Ray Charles’ “You Don’t Know Me”––plot twist, he unplugged his guitar, hopped off the stage, and played in the middle of the floor. The intimate nature of it all was just great.

During the intermission, Raisa and I turned to each other.

“That could’ve been so romantic.”
“Yep. I need a boyfriend.”
“A cute guy would’ve been nice––but I get Raisa... I guess it’ll have to do for now.”
“Hah.”

We filled the break with a conversation about slightly bitter singlehood, self-fulfilling prophecies, and rebellious parents.

Before long, the background music turned off, the band took the stage, and Seinabo Sey stepped up to the microphone. She opened up with “Pistols at Dawn”–– a good way to set the tone. Right from the get-go and throughout the whole performance she exuded confidence. There was a mysterious quality about her that really excited me. Maybe it was the way she swayed back and forth, the gestures she made with her hands, or even the way she would raise one eyebrow, smile, and look into the crowd like they have no idea what’s coming at them. Although her stage presence was commanding and powerful, there were moments when she showed her gentle side. Overall, the performance hung onto a delicate balance between suspense and romance.

To briefly sum up Sey’s music, it is a combination of edgy, dark, and mysterious. Following the release of her singles “Younger”, “Hard Time”, and “Pistols at Dawn”, the expertly trained Gambian Swedish singer’s sophisticated and modern sound received much attention across the globe (fun fact: she performed at the 2014 Nobel Peace Prize concert). Her music assumes a complexity similar to that of the human spirit; perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to gravitate towards it. As her collaborator Magnus Lidehäll put it, she’s unique in that she’s believable when she sings. Her music is honest, raw, and although seemingly dark, empowering. There were many great parts to the show, but some of my favorite parts in between the beginning and end were her performances of “Hard Time” and a couple of tracks from the new album (she didn’t really mention their names).

Before wrapping up the show, Sey shared some wise words with the audience: “If you’re one of those lucky people that know what they want in life, please try… There are people who are searching for something.” After all, she’s from a small town in Sweden and here she was halfway across the globe performing, in all places, Minneapolis. It was essentially a carpe diem type of speech, but without the cheesiness. Following her soapbox moment, she concluded with her debut single, “Younger”.

In conclusion, attending the Seinabo Sey show was one of the best ways to spend a Thursday night. Definitely worth the ten bucks (I almost felt like I was paying too little to see her). It was pretty miserable getting back to my dorm, but totally worth it. Oh, and I might have ripped a concert poster off a window and taken it back with me.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Winter Break Thangz

The last few week of Winter Break was quite the hoot. It can ultimately be defined by these few words: brunch, zine making, and partaay. For those of you who abide by the notion of "pics or it never happened", here ya go. Pretty pictures for all y'all to bathe in jealousy over (not really).