diversity luminary december2014 january2015

1 [email protected] Dec 2014

The Luminary

The Office of Diversity and Inclusion Newsletter of Emerson College

December 2014 January 2015

A note from Dr. Sylvia SpearsVice President of Diversity & Inclusion

Courage Matters

Almost fifty years ago, 600 non-violent protesters marched across Selma’s Edmund Pettus Bridge en route to Montgomery, Alabama’s state capital to demand that their constitutional right to vote be upheld. African Americans in the south were being systematically prevented from voting and those who spoke out about voting rights were harassed, beaten, and often killed. The march came days after Jimmie Lee Jackson, a young African American man, was mortally shot by a state trooper during a peaceful march in Marion, Alabama. James Bevel, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference’s Director of Direct Action, hoped to galvanize the community and refocus emotion after the loss of Jackson with the launch of a march of dramatic length: 54 miles.

On March 7, 1965, the protesters crossed over the Edmund Pettus Bridge and out of Selma. State troopers and local lawmen met them and the protesters were ordered to disperse. As they stood silently on the bridge, the state troopers attacked the protesters with clubs and tear gas. Police on horseback continued to beat retreating protesters. One of the protest organizers, Amelia Boynton, was struck down and beaten until she was unconscious. A picture of her lying on the Edmund Pettus Bridge went around the world in the media. This incident became known as Bloody Sunday.

Two days later, still healing from their wounds, the protesters gathered once again and made their way across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. This time they were led by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and joined by clergy from across the country who were called by conscience to join the march. When the protesters and law enforcement met on the bridge, the troopers stepped aside to clear the way. It is said that rather than lead the march into what could have been an ambush, Dr. King knelt down on one knee to pray and then led the protesters back cross the bridge to a local church. That night a group of white men beat and killed civil rights activist, Reverend James Reeb, a white minister from Boston who marched with the protesters. He was killed for being a sympathizer, an ally.

Dr. King and the organizers in Selma demanded protection for the marchers and the enactment of new federal voting rights legislation to enable African Americans to register and vote without harassment. On March 21, protected by 2,000 soldiers from the U.S. Army, 1,900 members of the Alabama National Guard under Federal command, FBI agents and Federal Marshals, the march from Selma to Montgomery started again. On March 24, more than 25,000 people entered Montgomery in support of voting rights for African Americans. Five months later, the Voting Right Act of 1965 was voted into law.

In the summer of 2001, I traveled to Selma and walked across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. I reached the peak of the bridge and looked down to the road leading out of Selma. There were no state troopers there to protect me or to beat me. There was only silence.

In the solitude of the river, I could hear echoes of the past. I could hear the cries of Bloody Sunday and of all of the other Bloody Sunday’s that have happened across this country and across the globe. The pain of the past still rustles in the waters that flow under the Edmund Pettus Bridge and in the waters of the earth’s rivers and streams.

As I walked across the bridge and out of Selma, I was carried by the courage of the people who walked there, the people who came back to the bridge three times. Even though they feared for their lives, they came back.

I was carried across that bridge by all of those who have fought in the past and those who continue to fight for truth and justice around the world. They keep standing up. So must I.

Courage Matters. Stand against oppression.


Feature

I DREAM: Boston

In partnership with ArtsEmerson, and the Elma Lewis Center for Civic Engagement, Learning, and Research, the Office of Diversity & Inclusion is pleased to announce the launch of I Dream: Boston. The mission of I Dream is to empower individuals and communities to rewrite the story of race and class inequity in America, and to build a movement to make that new story real, one person and one city at a time. Facilitated by the President’s Scholar- and Artist-in-Residence, Daniel Beaty, I Dream meets at the intersection of the arts, trauma recovery, community building, and technology, all for social change. Leaders in each of these areas comprise the Dream Team and invite the larger community to define and implement a community-led agenda for change. Visit emerson.edu/idream for more information.

America: We Are IndictedDaniel Beaty

Skittles & TeaHands UpI Can’t BreatheThis sore’s been festering so long its just about burstInfected through centuries and covered with cheap band aidesMasquerading like progressBut raw wounds are the best time to protect against further infectionFeel the painFeel it truly and deeplyLet it wake us from caustic silenceAnd mobilize us to loud raucous actionSkittles & TeaHands UpI Can’t BreatheAmerica we are indictedJustice has always been a journeyA path carved through Grief and RageA seat denied boldly claimedA dream deferred passionately proclaimedSkittles & TeaHands UpI Can’t BreatheWe are indictedPhotos in hoodiesToday, do we speak his name?Facebook our rageTomorrow, will we mobilize and act?Hashtag our painNext week, will we remember?We are indictedThe system is not just brokenIt was never designed to protect us allBuild new systemsStand up from our armchair activism and demonstrate true sacrificeBut I’m hurtPissedDon’t even know where to beginWho did I love today?What black child did I pour into today?Fill him through my actions with the truth that his #black life mattersFeet pounding pavementWe marchSetting an agenda for changeWe mobilizeReclaiming our narrativeWe tell the storyOf our power and our possibilityOf our love so deep that is causes us to RememberToday, Tomorrow, Next Week,Till change comesSkittles & TeaHands UpI Can’t BreatheWe must rememberWe must transform this moment into a movementOrWe are indicted.

Division of Diversity & Inclusion Declaration of Intent and Purpose

As part of the Emerson College community, the Division of Diversity & Inclusion and its departments commit to embodying and advancing social justice both at Emerson and with the larger community for the purpose of ensuring equity, the redistribution of power, and inclusion.

We commit to this purpose in support of Emerson College’s objective of being “an intellectual and creative community in which teaching, learning, scholarship, and creative work are accomplished at the highest possible levels.”

We work in a manner that fosters authentic engagement and collaboration grounded in compassion and innovation, and in enduring solidarity with others.


Civic Engagement

Proyecto Carrito

ORIGINAL

With Proyecto Carrito, Emerson maintenance workers and undergraduate students wrote their personal stories of immigration and hopes for a more inclusive educational system and wrapped them on a van, driving it—and their narratives—to conferences across the country. Last month, in one of our weekly classes, the workers and students workers discussed what they first thought when they saw the real-life Proyecto Carrito, why they are motivated to attend, and how their lives have been affected over the past five years of class. Some answered in English, others in Spanish. We present their original and translated responses here.

Maria Portillo, a facilities worker on campus, answers questions during a recent Proyecto Carrito class. Photo courtesy of Ryan Catalani

TRANSLATED

Con Proyecto Carrito, trabajadores de limpieza y estudiantes matriculados de Emerson escribieron sus historias personales de inmigración y esperanzas para una sistema educativa más inclusiva, y las envolvieron en un van, conduciéndolo—y sus narrativas—a conferencias a lo largo del país. El mes pasado, en uno de nuestras clases semanales, los trabajadores y estudiantes hablaron sobre lo que pensaron inicialmente al ver el Proyecto Carrito real, por qué están motivados a asistir, y como sus vidas han estado afectados en los últimos cinco años de clase. Algunos contestaron en ingles, otros en español. Presentamos sus respuestas originales y traducidas aquí.


Civic Engagement

¿Cual fue su primera reacción cuando vio por primera vez el van en la vida real?

María Portillo, maintenance worker: I felt very happy because of the way we were expressing ourselves, the way we could express ourselves. For me, it was very important because it wasn’t only me who could see the work, but many people who could identify with us.

María Guerra, maintenance worker: When I saw the van for the first time, I felt very happy and very proud that Ramiro had given his van for this project. I was also very pleased because it accomplished something that we were already thinking of doing.

María Lydia, maintenance worker: For me, I was very happy to see this, because it was an opportunity for many people to read the stories behind our photographs.

Mario Ernesto Osorio, maintenance worker: I felt very happy to see that the project we had started was taking shape—together with students and us, the workers, which is something that, for the first time, happened within the college.

Sandrayati Fay, estudiante antigua de Emerson: Yo recuerdo que empecé a llorar y estar tan inundada con esperanza y, “Oh my gosh, sí va a suceder, y eso es increíble.” Era real.

Andréa Nunes, estudiante antigua de Emerson: Estaba sin palabras, porque era una cosa tangible para que el mundo podía ver—todo el trabajo que esta clase ha hecho. Creo que el van ayudó a mostrar al mundo que sí podemos unirnos para hacer del mundo un mejor lugar.

Tamera Marko, profesora de Emerson: Era tan bonito, simplemente no lo podía creer. Cuando todo estaba hecho, empecé a llorar también. Hizo del nuestra tarea algo real. Antes, cuando empezamos la clase, nunca teníamos una aula definida. Y luego se me pidieron que no la enseñara, a veces se les pidieron a los trabajadores que no asistieran. Y realmente decidimos que la íbamos a hacer, y permanecernos juntos, y para mí, el van era simbólico de tantas cosas.

What was your first reaction when you first saw the van in real life?

María Portillo, trabajadora: Me sentí muy feliz porque de la forma en que estábamos expresando nosotros, la forma de cómo expresarnos. Para mí era muy grande porque no sólo lo podía ver yo, sino muchas personas que se pudieran identificar con nosotros.

María Guerra, trabajadora: Cuando yo vi la van por primera vez, me sentí muy contenta y muy orgullosa de que Ramiro había dado su camioneta para este proyecto. También me dio mucho gusto porque se iba a llevar a cabo algo que ya veníamos pensando hacer.

María Lydia, trabajadora: Para mí me dio mucho gusto ver eso porque al ponerse a pensar uno que era una oportunidad donde mucha gente podía leer las historias de las fotografías.

Mario Ernesto Osorio, trabajador: Yo me sentí muy contento en ver que ya se le estaba dando forma al proyecto que ya habíamos iniciado—junto con los estudiantes y nosotros, los trabajadores, que es algo que por primera vez se daba dentro del colegio.

Sandrayati Fay, former Emerson student: I remember breaking out into tears and being so overwhelmed by hope and, “Oh my gosh, it’s going to actually happen, and this is amazing.” It was real.

Andréa Nunes, former Emerson student: I was speechless, because it was just a tangible thing for the world to see—all the work this class has done. I think this van helped show the world that we can come together to make the world a better place.

Tamera Marko, Emerson professor: It was so beautiful, I just couldn’t believe it. it When it was all done, I started crying, too. It made our work real. Before, when we started the class, we never had a set classroom. And then I was asked not to teach it, sometimes the workers were asked not to come. And we really just decided we were going to do it, and stay together, and for me, that van was symbolic of so many things.

“[Proyecto Carrito] gives the full landscape of

the Emerson community—the full landscape of

what the Emerson

community should be, and

should recognize—and in

such a small physical space. It

achieves such unimaginable,

big, great things.”


Civic Engagement

For the students: Why do you attend the class?

Amandla Colón: Yo estoy aquí por todos ustedes, los trabajadores y estudiantes, y porque estando con ustedes me siento como estar en casa, como en familia. Es un espacio donde hay un intercambio real entre personas que no están tratando de hacer nada más que compartir.

Kim Gonzalez: One of the big reasons I’m here is because of my parents. They came to the United States and immediately started working. I’ve heard a lot of their experiences, but a lot of the ugly ones they haven’t really told me about, but I can imagine.

Hong Zhang: I can’t help myself, I cried when I first saw Ernesto making his speech in the video. I think some strange power drives me here, so I’m here.

Jade Wilenchik: It gives the full landscape of the Emerson community—the full landscape of what the Emerson community should be, and should recognize—and in such a small physical space. It achieves such unimaginable, big, great things.

Chantelle Bacigalupo: The first class I came to, I remember just standing in the back and tearing up. Everything is very raw, very real, there’s no sugar coating. People really talk about what they feel, and what they see, and their experiences.

Para los estudiantes matriculados: ¿Por qué asiste a la clase?

Amandla Colón: I’m here for each of you, the workers and students, and because being with you, I feel like I’m at home, in a family. It’s a space where there’s a real exchange between people who aren’t trying to do anything more than share.

Kim Gonzalez: Una de las razones mayores que estoy aquí es mis padres. Vinieron a los Estados Unidos y inmediatamente se pusieron a trabajar. He escuchado mucho de sus experiencias, pero muchas de las más feas no me han contado, pero las puedo imaginar.

Hong Zhang: No me puedo contener, lloré cuando vi por la primera vez Ernesto haciendo su discurso en el video. Creo que un poder extraño me empuja aquí, entonces aquí estoy.

Jade Wilenchik: Se le da el paisaje completo de la comunidad de Emerson—el paisaje completo de que la comunidad de Emerson debe ser, y debe reconocer—y en un espacio físico tan pequeño. Logra cosas tan fuertes, grandes, y inimaginables.

Chantelle Bacigalupo: La primera clase que asistí, recuerdo que simplemente estar de pie contra la pared con mis ojos llenándose con lágrimas. Todo está muy puro, muy real, nada está ocultado. La gente verdaderamente habla de lo que se sienten, y lo que ven, y sus experiencias.

Colón and Dr. Marko discuss their Proyecto Carrito experiences. Photos courtesy of Ryan Catalani


Civic Engagement

For the workers: How has the class changed your experience at Emerson?

Portillo: Como primer lugar, yo no fui a la escuela—aquí estoy en el colegio. Para los demás se puede ver que es muy poquito lo que escribo pero para mí es grande. Y lo más grande para mí es el compartir como comunidad, diría yo, aquí, familiarizándonos más cada día al compartir ideas, culturas, con los estudiantes. La relación con los estudiantes antes era muy mala. Porque habían veces—como siempre me gusta hablar mucho, y entonces yo tuve una experiencia un día en un elevador que saludé a un muchacho tres veces y no me contestó. Ahora yo me siento diferente. Me encuentro más de alguna estudiante, yo las saludo y me contestan.

Guerra: Sí se ve la diferencia, se ve el cambio, porque muchas más personas han leído, o han visto el video, y lo saludan a uno en la calle con más familiaridad, y los estudiantes también mucho son más amables. Sí se ve que ellos han tenido un cambio para los trabajadores.

Para los trabajadores de limpieza: ¿Como ha cambiado la clase su experiencia en Emerson?

Portillo: In the first place, I didn’t go to school—here I am in college. For the others, one can see that what I write is very little, but for me, it’s big. And the biggest thing for me is sharing as a community, as I’d say, here, familiarizing ourselves more every day with sharing ideas, cultures, with the students. The relationship with students before was very bad. Because there were times—as I always like to talk a lot, and so I had an experience one day in an elevator where I greeted a student three times, and he didn’t respond. Now I feel different. I come across more than one student who I greet, and they respond.

Guerra: You can see the difference, you can see the change, because many more people have read, or have seen the video, and they greet you on the street with more familiarity, and the students also are more friendly. You can see that they have changed toward the workers.

Mario Ernesto Osario has worked at the Facilities Management Department at Emerson College for 13 years. Photo courtesy of Ryan Catalani


Civic Engagement

Ramiro Soto: I’ve been working here since 1989, and I’ve seen a lot of students come and leave. When I first started, maybe three or four were very friendly. Even when some Spanish students started coming here, they never said “hello,” nothing. But with this class it’s been changing a lot. We are not afraid anymore, we are very confident to say hello to them. Even some teachers.

Osorio: Yo creo que sí ha habido un cambio, pero muy pequeño, necesitamos más trabajo. Entonces sí creo que sí ha tenido mucho impacto en lo personal, muchas personas nos reconocen, tratan de entablar comunicación con nosotros. Para mí es importante porque considero de que el trabajador en el colegio, y ellos como estudiantes, somos parte de la misma familia. Entonces ¿por qué tratarnos con esas diferencias? Podríamos tratar de recuperar el humanismo que nosotros en estos momentos hemos perdido, y eso haría un cambio grande en el mundo.

Ramiro Soto: He trabajado aquí desde 1989, y he visto a muchos estudiantes venir y salir. Cuando inicialmente empecé, quizás tres o cuatro eran muy amables. Hasta cuando unos estudiantes hispanohablantes empezaron a asistir, nunca dijeron “hello,” nada. Pero con esta clase ha estado cambiando mucho. Ya no tenemos miedo, estamos muy confiados para saludarles. Aun algunos profesores.

Osorio: I think there has been a change, but very small; we need more work. I do think that there has been a big impact on a personal level. Many people recognize us; they try to start conversations with us. For me, it’s important because I believe a worker at the college, and them as students, are part of the same family. So why should we be treated with these differences? We could be trying to recover the humanity we, in these moments, have lost, and this would make a big change in the world.

Ramiro Soto, also a part of the Facilities Management Department, smiles on during the class. Photo courtesy of Ryan Catalani


Civic Engagement

Portillo: Me encanta el que ellos, como estudiantes, son humanos y nosotros, como trabajadores, también. Que saber de que tal vez seremos diferentes en el nivel social, tal vez en economía, maybe, pero entender de que humanamente somos iguales.

María Ventura: Hemos tenido una mejor convivencia con cada uno de ustedes, los estudiantes.

Portillo: I love that they, as students, are humans and we, as workers, are too, and knowing that we may be on different social levels, maybe different economic levels, but understanding that as humans, we are equal.

María Ventura: Despite our differences, we have been able to live better together with each one of you, the students.

By Blake CampbellOffice of Diversity & Inclusion Staff

Introducing Survivor Advocate Greta Spoering

Greta Spoering joined Emerson’s Center for Violence Prevention and Response last month as the new survivor advocate. Spoering brings enthusiasm and considerable experience in the field to her new position, and promises to be an important fixture of campus life. The Luminary recently sat down with her to discuss her position and her previous work in violence prevention and response.

Spoering joins Melanie Matson, Emerson’s director of violence prevention and response, in the effort to maintain a safe and supportive campus climate at Emerson. Her

position involves direct advocacy work with survivors of sexual assault and intimate partner violence, ensuring that they are safe, providing them with resources, and talking with them about their experiences. Making sure that the Center for Violence Prevention and Response can provide efficient and user-friendly support for the Emerson community is a high priority for Spoering.

Spoering says that she was drawn to Emerson by the school’s focus on creative expression and communication.

“Talking about different forms of violence can be really hard,” Spoering explained. “They’re hard conversations, and I think creativity is something that reminds us of possibility and light and life. I think art can be really moving.”

Spoering began her work in violence prevention and response as an undergraduate at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, New York, where she served as a hotline volunteer for Saratoga Domestic Violence and Rape Crisis Services. On campus, she ran the Skidmore Pride Alliance and the Center for Sex and Gender Relations simultaneously. The latter role connected her to the college’s administrative faculty while she was

still a student, enabling her to do prevention work and facilitate conversations about sex and healthy relationships within the institution. She also worked with the campus’s gender neutral housing policy “so that people could feel more safe, more at home around campus.” Having a peer in administration, Spoering says, made students feel more comfortable about seeking resources and support.

“The most important impact [of my undergraduate years] was being part of those organizations,” Spoering says.

Spoering later went on to receive her MSW at Simmons College in Boston and intern at Fenway Health’s Violence Recovery Program (VRP). Her work centered around abusive relationships, sexual assault and harassment, and anti-LGBT discrimination.

“It was a very applied learning experience,” Spoering said of her time at Simmons. “Faculty and professors had the utmost respect for the people they worked with.”

As her background shows, Spoering is committed to diversity in discussions of sexual assault and interpersonal violence. The Center for Violence Prevention and Response “acknowledges that it is welcoming of LGBTQ folks” and creates training

Photo courtesy of Greta Spoering


News

IE Action Planning

scenarios that are inclusive of people of all kinds of identities.

Spoering says that confidentiality is also a paramount concern for the Center, especially considering Emerson’s small size and tightly knit community. “Even when someone isn’t personally identified, when it’s a small school, it can feel like everybody is going to know.”

Yet Spoering is optimistic about the ability of Violence Prevention and Response to rise above challenges like these. She envisions a future where prevention work will grow to the extent that “there will be lots of reasons for people to just stop by, to just say hi, or get involved in prevention work.”

“This isn’t something that one person alone is going to do,” Spoering says. “This is really a community effort.”


In his inaugural address in the fall of 2012, President Lee Pelton announced that he would develop Emerson’s commitment to diversity and inclusion through a new Inclusive Excellence initiative. Now, departments are instituting their own Inclusive Excellence best practices and goals through Inclusive Excellence Action Planning. Spearheaded by Robert Amelio, Emerson’s director of diversity education, and Dr. Sylvia Spears, this new project encourages departments to think critically about strengths and opportunities for growth and devise new and creative ways of implementing Inclusive Excellence on campus.

This semester, the Department of Visual and Media Arts (VMA) has begun to institute some innovative ways to encourage diversity among faculty, staff, and students, with Department Chair Brooke Knight leading the effort and Dr. Ken Feil overseeing Inclusive Excellence goals for the department. After conducting a departmental survey on Inclusive Excellence, Dr. Feil developed an action plan. Diversity and inclusion is a professional and personal priority for Dr. Feil whose scholarly work on film and television focuses on queer studies.

“The personal impact of diversity issues is something I feel on a daily basis,” Dr. Feil said in an interview with The Luminary. He also added, “These issues have been part of my intellectual experience for 25 or 30 years.”

The most notable of the VMA department’s recent developments has been the establishment of an Inclusive Excellence fund. For each academic year going forward, the fund will be allocated to around three faculty members to aid them with scholarly or creative projects related to diversity or Inclusive Excellence. This year, three applicants from the VMA department’s production faculty were selected: Professor Cristina Kotz Cornejo, Assistant Professor Paul Turano, and Senior Distinguished Director-in-Residence Theodore Life.

Professor Kotz Cornejo is a director and screenwriter whose work focuses on Latin American and women’s issues. She was chosen as a recipient of the Inclusive Excellence fund to aid in the creation of a new feature-length film based on her short film Hermanas, which was recently screened on campus with two of her other shorts. It is reviewed in the Features section of

this issue of The Luminary (see page 12.)

Professor Turano is at work on a multimedia interactive art project called Wander, Wonder, Wilderness, which explores the numerous green spaces in the Greater Boston Area in an effort to fuse the experience of the natural world with that of the mediated world. Turano aims to raise awareness of environmental issues by encouraging people to document their experiences in nature through social media.

Professor Life is putting together an Asian film festival with a focus on postcolonial issues. He seeks to create a space for screening films that get limited distribution in the United States and are shown mostly in such venues as art museums and other film festivals.

The Inclusive Excellence fund group is expected to meet during the academic year and to make brief presentations in which they discuss their investment in Inclusive Excellence in faculty meetings.

“In their presentations I’m hoping that that will encourage further work on other faculty’s parts in those areas and maybe even give them ideas about films to show or overall subject matter,” Dr. Feil said.

Aside from the Inclusive Excellence fund, the department is also at work on the creation of a low-residency MFA writing program, which would offer opportunities to study writing at the graduate level to lower-income populations that are often barred from such an education by regional and economic factors.



News

Walker 10 Salons are small monthly gatherings that take place on the tenth floor of the Walker Building to celebrate the diverse and creative culture of Emerson College with performances by students, faculty, and staff. On October 30, contributors to Words Apart, the only literary magazine on campus that combines the participation of both undergraduate and graduate students, were invited to share their work. The ongoing focus of the magazine’s content is social justice.

All the pieces read out loud were meant to inspire the audience to think about the privilege they, or others, have in society as a result of their race, ethnicity, culture, gender, sexuality, and socio-economic status. The first speaker, Words Apart founder and former Emerson graduate student Luke Jones, read from his review of Marge Piercy’s novel The High Cost of Living, which concerns a young woman named Leslie who loses her lover Valerie to another woman, and then proceeds to get caught in a love triangle with a homosexual man and a young girl. The review focused on the topic of sexual fluidity and its intersections with age and race. Jones explained the importance of seeing sexuality as fluid because it functions as a method of combatting narrow-mindedness within interpersonal relationships. By looking at sexuality as fluid, one does not confine himself/herself to dating one individual, to being attracted to one “type.” By opening ourselves up dating those of different ages, races, and genders, we begin to understand others and ourselves in a different light. Jones finished his discussion by ultimately stressing the essentials of “consent, openness, awareness, and respect” in

sexuality and romantic interactions. Next, graduate student Keith

Gaboury read his essay “Cauldron of Discord.” The piece talked about race in America and, specifically, how the shootings of Michael Brown and Trayvon Martin “inflamed the nation.” The circumstances surrounding the events revealed the deeply entrenched problems in American society in regard to race relations. The ways in which communities responded called mass attention to the large institutional fault-lines within American society.

Author Joshua Jackson followed up on this idea with his nonfiction essay, “Race-ing Toward A Better America.” He begins by recounting the time two white police officers drove up to him while he was walking on the street and interrogated him. “I couldn’t help wondering,” Jackson writes, “if they

would have still done this if I were white.”

Jackson, also a graduate student at Emerson, primarily interweaves his interest in the history of blackness. He said he is more interested in “the genotype and its history instead of the phenotype.” Essentially, he is focusing less on the outward treatment of blackness than its deeply entrenched contextual implications in American history. For example, he continually comes back to the fact that black expressive culture responds to white oppression. He cites the emergence and evolution of jazz, rap, and various other art forms as coming out of the prevalence of white dominance.

Contributor Zoe Tokushige shifted the focus of the conversation when she went up to read her work of prose. Entitled “Camp,” it is based on her family’s real experience in Japanese

Words Apart Showcases Student Writing at Walker 10 Salon

Photo Courtesy of Suzanne Hinton


News

internment camps during World War II. Tokushige tells the audience that the topic of Japanese internment in American history is not broached or discussed often enough in American education. Citing the example of the Americans dropping the atomic bombs on Japanese cities Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Tokushige said that when she was in school “teachers would ask the class to list the pros and cons of dropping the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. My family had relatives in both Hiroshima and Nagasaki. There were no pros.”

To read the works mentioned above and learn more about the magazine, please visit Words Apart at wordsapartmag.com.

By Rebecca RozenbergOffice of Diversity & Inclusion Staff

The Junction of Emerson’s CreativityNovember’s Walker 10 Salon hosted Junction, a new monthly showcase of art at Emerson College. According to founder Ryan Catalani, Junction was created as a way for students to showcase their creative accomplishments. Emerson students’ interests and talents often flow outside their chosen majors. Junction was formed with the idea that Emerson students should have a way to connect and share their creations through an open outlet.

“It just seems to be what should be natural,” Catalani said. And you could tell by the way he looked around the room that he truly believes in the creative spirit of Emerson, and of the good that can come out through sharing and partaking in discussion about one another’s work.

For the Salon, Catalani specifically curated pieces of photography and

short student films by students within and outside the Visual and Media Arts program. Catalani made sure to point this out, highlighting the fact that as artistic individuals, we should not be constricted to one major’s medium. The films ranged from visually engaging recordings of performance art to short documentaries, all beautifully shot, planned out, and choreographed to the point of eliciting more than a few exclamations of awe from the audience.

As the event came to a close, Catalani stressed the importance of coming together as a creative community. He said his plans for his next Junction project is to have Emerson students come together to make new art for the Little Building scaffolding.

“Now that it’s definitely going to be up for another three or four years,” Catalani said, “we should take the opportunity to showcase what our school is really about.” He envisions paintings, photography, film stills, pieces of text and prose and poetry—all coming from members of the college—so that everyone traveling along the corner of Boylston and Tremont, for years to come, can see Emerson’s talent.


Student photographs showcased at the Junction Salon. Photo courtesy of Ryan Catalani


Feature

Viewings for the Boston Asian American Film Festival were held at the Paramount Center’s Bright Family Screening Room on October 23rd through the 26th. The festival was held at locations all around Boston and consisted of screenings of both full-length and short films, as well as panels and talks by individuals within the industry. Many came out to enjoy the culturally varied films and join in discussions of the representation of Asian Americans in modern media.

The last film screened at the festival, A Leading Man, was directly engaged with questions of Asian American representation on screen. The film centers on the character of GQ Qi (Jack Yang), a handsome young man of Chinese-American descent hoping to make it big as an actor. From the very beginning director Steven J. Kung shines a light on the harsh reality of Asian American presence in the film industry. In the opening scene, GQ and a group of his friends stand rehearsing scripts before an audition for a new television series they are all trying out for. When they discover a usual member of their group of young Asian American men has moved away and left the acting profession, they all shrug and shift uncomfortably, visibly pensive and melancholy. Finally, one of the members chimes: “Well, more parts for us.”

It’s the kind of simple but meaningful moment that Kung peppers throughout the film, a reminder that Asian American actors are underestimated and under-hired within the acting industry. To make this point even more prevalent, the audition is for a television sitcom series about a nuclear, all-white, American family who has a Chinese

foreign-exchange student come stay with them. Undoubtedly, Kung does this to make it clear to the audience that Asian American actors are being hired for stereotypical “Asian roles” that the hegemonic white society has placed them in. GQ gets the part, only to quit because of the unbearably racist and cruel conditions that the series creator/director places him under.

For years now, Hollywood has been inundated with white actors and actresses that flash their wealth and celebrity in the faces of our pop-culture-obsessed society. There is a severe lack of diversity, a severe gap in culture, within this industry. A Leading Man portrays this gap in a raw and dramatic manner, allowing audiences to see how exactly the talented minority is shunned because of the white-dominated veneer of the industry. Because GQ is talented, a point the movie makes over and over again. And yet agents, casting directors, and fellow actors constantly

denounce him because of his appearance, because of his culture. He and his fellow acting friends, their upsettingly small group of Asian American performance artists, are written off completely.

The Boston Asian American Film Festival exists to demonstrate the talent, breadth, and significance of the Asian American community within the film industry. A Leading Man does this in its beautiful execution of narrative. The solid structure of the plot and the stinging drama of the work bring the characters’ situations to life. There were more than a few gasps from the audience during various moments throughout the film because the acting and story line were both so engaging. The realism serves its purpose in making the film enjoyable to watch, but also succeeds in conveying a serious thematic purpose as well.


Photo courtesy of smellslikescreenspirit.com

Closing Night at the Boston Asian American Film Festival


Feature

On November 4, the Bright Family Screening Room in the Paramount Center screened three of Emerson faculty member Cristina Kotz Cornejo’s short films. Cornejo, an Argentine-American director and screenwriter, is a graduate of Tisch School of the Arts’s film program at New York University. She is currently an associate professor of film production at Emerson College. She has won numerous awards for her work, most recently Massachusetts Cultural Council Artist Fellowship in 2013. Three of her newest short films shown at this screening, Despertar, Hermanas, and Buena Fe, are all related to the feature length film she is now in the process of writing.

Each of the pieces is a story of, in Cornejo’s words, “overcoming.” Despertar (which translates to “awaken”) is the story of a woman named Rosa working as a maid for a wealthy family in Mexico. We come into her life when she has just broken up with an abusive boyfriend and lost her job. When she faces an inability to find more work, her desperate need for financial support is juxtaposed with the privilege of the wealthy Mexican families.

The camera follows Rosa closely throughout the piece, and the perspective is so tight that almost no other people are shown fully in shot.

Instead of a general story about a maid’s situation, it becomes a personal story where viewers are invited to experience Rosa’s life alongside her. By showing Rosa’s difficulties, Cornejo tells the stories of class differences and instances of abuse towards workers that are a systemic problem in Mexico.

The second film, Hermanas, meaning “sisters,” showcases some characters Cornejo plans to use for her full-length feature, as well as a recurring theme: the plight of poor Mexican women. Hermanas depicts two sisters who are suddenly evicted from their apartment and the younger sister’s boyfriend-turned-pimp. The elements work together in a grim portrayal of human trafficking and domestic abuse. Once again, Cornejo keeps the focus on the brutally honest story of her main protagonists.

The last short, Buena Fe, meaning “good faith,” serves as another backstory piece for a character in Kotz Cornejo’s feature-length film. The stark, lonely feeling of the short serves to externalize the experience of the characters: a couple whose relationship is falling apart after the death of their son.

The protagonist, Carlos, becomes extremely focused on his religious work after the death. The use of religious symbolism is particularly

poignant here and, when asked at a question-and-answer session following the screening, Cornejo acknowledged the recurring theme of religion in all three short films. She elaborated by saying that religion is often an integral part of the lives of the people whose stories she is trying to tell, and she is driven to represent it accurately.

Cornejo’s work is consistently moving and character-driven. The effectiveness of her stories is in her gentle but realistic characterization, and the way the viewer feels that they have stepped into an ongoing story. The content of all of her films is highlighted by the careful camera work and intimate visual style. With these short films garnering interest for her feature, one hopes that the full-length film will get the funding it needs to go into production. A wider audience should be able to appreciate Cornejo’s work.

By Michal GoderezOffice of Diversity & Inclusion

Service Learning Correspondent

Three Short Films by Cristina Kotz Cornejo: A Review


Opinion

I know it’s almost Christmas when the decoration in every department store is green and red, when every song on every radio is Christmas music, and every person I talk to is thinking about how they’re going to spend their Christmas money, or what they’re going to do with their family over Christmas break. Unfortunately for me, by the time Christmas starts, the holiday I grew up celebrating will already be over.

I’m Jewish, and grew up in a fully Jewish home. That means that unlike some of my other Jewish friends, I never celebrated Christmas. I celebrated Chanukah instead, the eight day long festival of lights that commemorates the rededication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. Or at least, when I was a kid I celebrated Chanukah. These days, I don’t really celebrate anything any more.

I grew up in western Massachusetts, and for K-6 grades I attended a reform Jewish elementary school, Solomon Schechter, where we always got every Jewish holiday off. Even though other Jewish holidays are actually more holy, or more significant, because of its length Chanukah became the ideal holiday for a student. We got a welcome week of break, and we got to feel like maybe we weren’t missing out on this whole Christmas thing.

When I joined the public school system in seventh grade, I did not immediately recognize how completely things changed. Even though every public school is required by law to allow people to take religious holidays off, the immediate conflict for me was that I wasn’t religious. I didn’t have to take the day off to go to temple, or participate in any traditions. So one or two minor holidays passed me by, and I went to

school, because it didn’t seem important. It’s just Rosh Hashana, I’ll bring some apples and honey with me to lunch. It’s just Purim, that’s a holiday for kids. There was no structure to encourage me to take time off, to observe the holidays or participate in the traditions I grew up with, so I didn’t bother.

And then it was Chanukah, and while everyone around me talked excitedly about their Christmas plans, I spent five of those eight days going to class, coming home, and doing homework. By the time we actually had vacation, I had nothing to do, and nothing to celebrate.

Now that I am in college, where I live far from home and even a single missed class can mean hours, or even days, of make up work, I struggle to remember my connections to the traditions that are part of my heritage. It’s great that professors have to give us religious holidays off, but that one fact is completely undermined by the social pressures that would penalize me if I ever tried to use that allowance.

Less than 2% of the American population is Jewish, and the holiday season is when being part of that small number has the most tangible effect. Christmas, something that has become the epitome of American culture, the ultimate shared experience among the diversity of America, and a symbol of people coming together, is actually one of the events that most strongly reminds me how far outside that culture I sometimes am.

By Michal GoderezOffice of Diversity & Inclusion

Service Learning Correspondent

Reflections on Being Jewish During the Holiday Season

Photo courtesy of blog.evite.com

The dreidel is used to play a traditional game on Chanukah. The four Hebrew

letters on the dreidel are an acronym for a sentence that translates to “A Great

Miracle Occurred There,” referencing the miracle of light that the holiday of

Chanukah commemorates.

Executive EditorsSylvia SpearsAlayne FioreRobert Amelio

EditorBlake Campbell

Assistant EditorRebecca Rozenberg

DesignRebecca RozenbergAren Kabarajian

Copy EditorBlake Campbell

Advisory GroupJeeyoon Kim

ContributorsMichal Goderez

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