Craving Persecution
Or, The Minefield Of Modern Progressive Manners:
A thread ensues, with much rumbling about “othering,” “whiteness” and “racism.” Needless to say, Ms Vasudevan’s own website merrily tells us where she’s from. The thing we’re not allowed to take an interest in, however fleetingly.
Being fashionably progressive, and a New York Times contributor, Ms Vasudevan has learned to use the words “white” and “whiteness” quite a lot, generally with pejorative connotations. On account of her not being racist, you see. Her interests, we’re told, are “colonialism, race, and climate change.” She also makes a point of telling us that she lives on “Arapaho and Cheyenne land,” i.e., in Denver.
Update, via the comments:
As noted before, following this somewhat related item, the people who insist on these woke protocols act as if they themselves had never had to make polite, albeit clumsy conversation, or had to get to know someone with, at least initially, some pretty simple, even dumb, questions.
A couple of years ago, I was at a family party, to which a niece had brought a Spanish exchange student who was staying with her. It was a large gathering, and the young woman looked a little daunted and left-out. Her English was fairly limited and my Spanish non-existent, so our conversation, such as it was, was fairly basic. In between offering her drinks and sandwiches, etc., and several awkward smiles, I distinctly recall asking some pretty inane questions. I like to think she understood that I was trying to make her feel welcome. Rather than just some bigot, or a dumbass with no conversational flair.
Again, as so often, the umbrage seen above is pretentious and implicitly non-reciprocal. If I were to migrate to live in, say, South Korea and Korean people sometimes asked me where I was from, even if they did this several years after my arrival, I wouldn’t think it inherently impolite or malicious. It might get a little hackneyed, a little boring, but I very much doubt that it would make me feel “sick, frustrated, and uncomfortable.” And were I to get all pissy and indignant about being asked this humdrum question, I suspect Ms Vasudevan and her peers would be ready to scold me for my “privilege” and “fragility,” my “whiteness.”
And yet even this simple role-swapping isn’t considered – or isn’t considered an acceptable line of thought. Which possibly says something about wokeness. And the kinds of people it attracts.
Consider this an open thread. Share ye links and bicker.
Craving Persecution
That.
That.
As noted before, following this somewhat related item, the people who insist on these woke protocols act as if they themselves had never had to make polite, albeit clumsy conversation, or had to get to know someone with, at least initially, some pretty simple, even dumb, questions.
A couple of years ago, I was at a family party, to which a niece had brought a Spanish exchange student who was staying with her. It was a large gathering, and the young woman looked a little daunted and left-out. Her English was fairly limited and my Spanish non-existent, so our conversation, such as it was, was fairly basic. In between offering her drinks and sandwiches, etc., and several awkward smiles, I distinctly recall asking some pretty inane questions. I like to think she understood that I was trying to make her feel welcome. Rather than just a dumbass with no conversational flair.
“”Everyone’s a victim these days … There are real victims in the world, they deserve to be heard, they deserve our love and compassion. But if everybody claims to be a victim, then no one hears the real victims. … We say the world is addicted to opioids, no… the world is not addicted to opioids. The number one addiction in the world is attention. One of the easiest ways to get attention is to be infamous, to try to stab Dave Chappelle on stage. Or you can be a victim.”
— Chris Rock
Comedian AND sage.
TBF, it would make me sick, frustrated, and uncomfortable too, it should be “From where are you?”.
Again, as so often, it’s so blatantly non-reciprocal. If I were to migrate to live in, say, South Korea and Korean people sometimes asked me where I was from, even if they did this several years after my arrival, I wouldn’t think it impolite or malicious. It might get a little hackneyed, a little boring, but I very much doubt that it would make me feel “sick, frustrated, and uncomfortable.” And were I to get all pissy and indignant about being asked this humdrum question, I suspect Ms Vasudevan and her peers would be ready to scold me for my “privilege” and “whiteness,” my “fragility.”
And yet I suspect that even this simple role-swapping isn’t considered, or isn’t considered an acceptable line of thought. Which says something about wokeness. And the kinds of people it attracts.
I would not be surprised if she were another Brahmen on the make.
The horrible Cambridge professor was from a Brahmen family and they treat 99% of humanity as beneath their dignity.
Post updated.
And were I to get all pissy and indignant about being asked this humdrum question, I suspect Ms Vasudevan and her peers would be ready to scold me for my “privilege” and “fragility,” my “whiteness.”
That.
To be fair, the question can be painful. Our family comes from a place where our kind is a disliked minority. I did not have it so bad, so I don’t care about the question either way. My wife had a much tougher time there, so she hates answering that question.
Is it just me, or do these two search engines produce notably different results?
https://www.google.com/search?q=pandemic+treaty+WHO
https://html.duckduckgo.com/html/?q=pandemic+treaty+WHO
Coming soon, Chapter Two: “My passengers won’t talk to me. This country is so racist.”
To be fair, the question can be painful. Our family comes from a place where our kind is a disliked minority.
I don’t think I’ve ever asked where someone is from, not in many years, at least – either it hasn’t cropped up or I’ve not been sufficiently interested to ask – but it isn’t something that on principal I would anxiously avoid. When I’ve heard it asked, the intention has generally seemed either friendly and genuine or an expression of routine politeness.
For most of us, even progressive New York Times contributors who live in Denver – sorry, on “Arapaho and Cheyenne land” – I’m not sure why it would be so emotionally crushing.
She’s now deleting her tweets.
#SoBrave
She’s now deleting her tweets.
That’s a shame. Some of the replies were quite pointed and entertaining. Which is possibly why they disappeared.
[ Note to self: always take screengrabs. ]
If I were to migrate to live in, say, South Korea and Korean people sometimes asked me where I was from…
Don’t know about the UK, but here in the US&A it happens frequently within the US&A. Being a Son of the South and having gone to undergrad and worked in
communist statesthe northeast I was frequently asked where I was from, or the corollary, “You’re not from around here, are you?” (or “You don’t sound like you are from around here, are you?”).Same overseas where, being obvious I was from the US&A, the question was “what part” or “what state”. At gatherings of strangers here in the US&A people routinely ask where someone is from, it is just a way of establishing some form of rapport.
Asking where someone is from is nothing, it is a polite human equivalent of dogs sniffing each other butts.
TBF, it would make me sick, frustrated, and uncomfortable too, it should be “From where are you?”.
Or even “From where do you come?”
“From whence comest thou?”
A fine fisking, David. Thanks!
Do we notice that you, a foreigner, are foreign? Yes, implicitly, instantly, every time. We notice by your racial characteristics that all or some of your ancestors didn’t come from here. We notice when you talk that you’re not a native speaker
You’re offended because you think we’re not allowed to notice that you’re foreign, or bring it up that you’re foreign, or have a concept of nationality where you’re not a member.
Do our apparently offhand questions have a more systematic agenda of trying to place you, to check your background, to calibrate how much trust or distance to treat you with? Absolutely, that’s how ice breaking works. We’re not asking for one word answers to fill in on a form, we want to hear your story and know what kind of person you are. With a local, I might be trying to place which high school they went to and whether we have acquaintances in common. With a visible foreigner like you I’m naturally trying to place where you’re from and how you got here.
You’re offended because you think you can come here and be entitled to be trusted like a native, that the natives aren’t entitled to inquire into your background, and that the unfamiliarity of your background isn’t going to be an obstacle.
Behind our friendly curiosity about where you’re from and whether you’re happy here, do we sometimes ponder thoughts like was it in our interests to let this guy and all of his descendants in? Not always but sometimes, and it might depend on what sort of impression you give. Are such doubts aimed at you as an individual or collectively at millions of other immigrants from your background? Sometimes one, sometimes the other, sometimes both. We’re entitled to treat you both as an individual and as a group member as we think appropriate. By the way, you’re pretty quick to swap individual and group hats when it suits you.
You’re offended because you think you and your people are so wonderful that you should not only be welcome in any country as a guest, but be invited to become a citizen, and that anyone who doesn’t think so is at approximately the same level of evil as a child molester. Who’s entitled here? Who’s got the superior airs? Who’s putting up signs about what the natives shall not speak of?
Asking where someone is from is nothing, it is a polite human equivalent of dogs sniffing each other butts.
A mental image to treasure.
I don’t doubt that the question can be asked in an unkind way, as almost any question can, given sufficient ingenuity, but mostly, almost always, it’s either a routine ice-breaker or a polite overture. To assume that “Where are you from?” means something like “What business do you have being here, you foreign-looking tosspot? Let me pack your bags” is… well, a bit of a stretch.
Ah yes. Typical recent folk assuming that the then tribal location was for all time. Even as a yute I was regaled with tales of how “the people” moved.
*as an aside, it seems that every tribe referred to themselves as the one true representation of human (the people being a good translation of a common title), while all others were, well,a bit of undeclass…*
Gosh. Runs a cab, eh? Lots of contact with the public. Fishing for that incident that will get them into a graduate program.
I spent many years travelling to the US from the UK for work, sometimes for up to 3 months. My colleagues and I were always asked where we were from, it caused much amusement when we were mistaken for Aussies.
On several occasions our interlocutor would inform us they were Irish, to which one of my colleagues would reply’ Really, which part of Ireland are you from?’ It would appear that it was 4 or 5 generations ago and I’m more Irish than they, approx 8% according to a well known genealogy site.
it caused much amusement when we were mistaken for Aussies.
Roll with the punches, they say.
Americans have a reputation for being friendly to everyone, even servants. In any other culture (English upper-class for example), they would be ignored and condescended to (for good reason but I need not get into that now).
But, no, we like talking to everybody and asking questions and generally passing the time, and for doing that in our own country we get to be the ones condescended to. And most of us will accept that, because we like to be nice about it.
Which reminds me of the Borat movies, and the news that leaked out that its “star” had to work hard to offend people into reacting to his boorish behavior.
Roll with the punches, they say.
We would try out different UK accents just for amusement, I reverted to my native Scouse, even my colleagues couldn’t understand me.
There was never any problem, we realised people were just being friendly and genuinely interested. I never thought, however, that I would be considered ‘exotic’
By any reasonable global or historic standard, life in the western democracies is pretty damn good.
This leaves activists with a dilemna. They are left with few worthwhile causes to get their tail in a knot over. So they get upset over trivialities and figure they’re Martin Luther King.
I reverted to my native Scouse,
[ Backs away slowly, searches for something with which to make fire. ]
A mental image to treasure.
OK, touching noses if you prefer something more genteel, but I have no doubt that when Thag met Zog for the first time something similar went on, we just found more polite ways to establish who was whom.
The whole thing is stupid beyond belief, unless someone is asking the uber driver or Miss Vasudevan in an Apu accent, they are just being asses.
I’m shocked, shocked, I tell you. Anyone else shocked?
I’m shocked, shocked, I tell you.
Why, it’s inconceivable.
No wait. The other thing.
I spent many years travelling to the US from the UK for work, sometimes for up to 3 months. My colleagues and I were always asked where we were from,
On the few overseas vacations we’ve taken, we got that question all the time. And were delighted because it meant another opportunity to chat with locals (who are more than happy to let you know the best non-tourist places to see or dine at).
The funniest experience was in southern France (20+ years ago) where we were shopping and trying out our rusty high school French on the shopkeepers. The couple between the counter were very amused and asked us where we were from …
“United States – California”
Their smiles got broader and they said, in unison “BAYWATCH!!”
Oh, dear. 😉
“Anyone else shocked?”
No. Next question?
I would quibble slightly with the heading.
Those, such as Vasudevan, in perpetual high dudgeon crave the appearance of persecution (and the privileges such appearance brings) knowing all the while they are in no danger of actual persecution.
It’s all mummery.
Americans have a reputation for being friendly to everyone, even servants.
Can confirm. I just started a new remote-only job with a firm in Detroit; I’m the first Canadian employee (which entailed much consternation when it came to filing paperwork).
The difference is night and day. Everyone treats me like the beloved brother they haven’t seen in two years. It’s disconcerting.
They know their audiences.
Everyone treats me like the beloved brother they haven’t seen in two years. It’s disconcerting.
As a callow twenty-something, I spent a week in New York. The people I encountered there – including a pair of be-heeled seven-foot drag queens – seemed terribly excited by my accent, which was a tad unnerving. Mercifully, no-one mistook me for an Australian.
I’m asian and I work in hotels. I get asked where I’m from all the time from other ASIANS. People who make it racial are just dumb.
“From whence comest thou?”
Just “Whence…“; the “from” is superfluous.
Sam: not necessarily. The KJV translation of Psalms 121:1 has “…from whence cometh my help.”
I’m of English, Welsh and Swedish ancestry, and I look it. In London, I got asked for directions by tourists all the time.
I will always treasure my memories of their faces when they heard my rusty US Midwest twang accent, denying any local knowledge.
Smiles all round after, of course.
The last time I came right out and asked someone where they were from was at a seminar, and I just could not quite understand the french(?) accented English I was hearing.
He said he was from Provence. He offered to switch to Parisian accented English, which was 1) easy to understand, and 2) an amazing feat of linguistic magic.
Our family comes from a place where our kind is a disliked minority.
And in sad irony your name, Arkadiy, is the Russian form of the Greek Arkadia (Arcadia in English), which has the ancient connotation of a pastoral utopia of peace and plenty. The fertility and productivity of the Steppes is phenomenal, but we humans seem to have a talent for pissing in paradise.
I will always treasure my memories of their faces when they heard my rusty US Midwest twang accent, denying any local knowledge.
Hey, I can speak ‘Murican and English. [ Waits for indignant refutation from David. ]
Amid the wreckage of Russian attack helicopter is…a washing machine.
Actually, I suspect it is not but enjoy the trolling.
More trolling.
And still more.
The horrible Cambridge professor was from a Brahmen family and they treat 99% of humanity as beneath their dignity.
…which calls to mind the old expression “Boston Brahmin”.
I got asked for directions by tourists all the time.
Another one of the brethren. Some of us must have a certain look. It doesn’t matter where I am in the world, it’s a given that someone will ask me for directions.
The “native” who is upset about being asked where he/she/it is from does not grasp the nuances of local accent. Just be proud of your origins and answer a friendly question.
As for the Uber person, hand him a note saying
“I appreciate your feelings and I will not ask you where you are from. You will understand if I ask that you do not ask me where I am going. “
(Arcadia in English), which has the ancient connotation of a pastoral utopia of peace and plenty.
From Canada’s Humorist Laureate Stephen Leacock, Arcadian Adventures with the Idle Rich. Oddly, Utopias are most often to be avoided. Samuel Butler’s Erewhon (nowhere spelled backwards) is my favourite name for Utopia.
Asked a Korean where from –young man–he had been mostly raised here so he took offense but then I said I have friends living in Seoul (where he was from). He was mollified.
Taxi driver from Africa. I guessed which country but missed it. He was delighted I tried to guess.
The “where from” question often leads to connections. Maybe you have visited that country, or love the food, or wish you could go there or have a relative from there. To get pissy about it indicates no understanding of human conversation. And what about the question is offensive anyway?