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#race and racism in the bell jar
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rant about ig bookbloggers 
started to notice I can tell who has bookstagram/twt brain rot "unpopular book opinions" by how they view the catcher in the rye vs the bell jar.
backstory: catcher in the rye has had bit of backlash on liberal or feminist book blogging spaces, basically a lot of people saying its a red flag book or white-male-overrated meanwhile Sylvia Plath has now become prominent as an Official classic and even become trendy as apart of an aesthetic (so lots of people are broadly familiar with her work in the same way many people are familiar with Lolita on a broad level)
but
I've started to notice a trend of all these book girl bloggers absolutely hating the bell jar....yet praising catcher in the rye and its so funny because; people are taking umbrage at the bell jar (and by extension Sylvia) for being
racist
homophobic
Esther being unlikable (not really depressed, toxic person, whiney, a bitch, etc)
sometimes if the blogger is really woke they'll throw in a dig at how its fatphobic as well. and then in the next couple reviews they'll praise catcher in the rye with the exact same "my unpopular opinion" often these girls will grandstand at how the bell jar was jarringly uncomfortable to read due to the homophobia and racism but 1) show me the homophobia in the bell jar (without the sequence where Esther wonders how lesbians have relationships) I'll wait....
and secondly now explain how this was manageable in catcher in the rye which features iirc homophobic closeted gay monologues and like a male teacher (fired for being a groomer) trying to rape holden? I need to reread this book because there is so much to dig through if you're going to be a picky little stickler about political correctness in old books. I actually agree with critiques of how race was handled in the bell jar. also discuss any themes you want in any book you want. but also make up your own opinions on art because this type of thing makes you come across a really stupid and a total contrarian.
if you can't read anything without focusing on the shortcomings of its time then I feel sorry for you and if you can't separate the art from the artist (or the narrative intention from the art!!) I feel sorry for you. and my question to people like this is always; if you find one element intolerable to the point of dismissal in one book why is it tolerable for you in another book?
or maybe it's just because you make your money through clicks online and being a reactionary contrarian who stays within the safety realm of thinking women's chick lit and entry level English classics brings in the most views?
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sophopolis · 5 months
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jesus old shit about pete wentz is all "hes handsome but his mouth is too big for his face"
ok sylvia plath!!!!!
the mid 2000s were craaaazy i feel like there was a sense that we're so progressive now we are the modern generation which makes the rampant racism misogyny homophobia transphobia like more striking
speaking of sylvia plath u read the bell jar like "damn shut up about other races, people back then sure were Like That!"
then u look back at shit from your own childhood and ur like ????? i thought we were better than that!!!!!!!!!
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oneofmytroubles · 2 years
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Hello and welcome, here is my little essay —
Now having read The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, I am firmly convinced Esther Greenwood is bisexual and half in love with Doreen.
Sorry I don’t know how to add read more on mobile yet lol ;)
So the case:
Esther loves her personality (and fears it), loves how she smells, looks, and relishes compliments and attention from her. She also is clearly jealous and upset when Doreen gets with a man, in my view. But she just couldn’t realize it, not without despair and loathing for herself and Doreen. At least not so far as we see in the story. I honestly have no idea if Plath intended Esther to be attracted to Doreen in subtext. But she is.
This is about analyzing and reflecting on the story itself, the good and the bad, and it is also an indulgent daydream of “what if” Esther did realize. What if Doreen returned her affection and attraction? What if their relationship, however fractured or flawed, developed? Stayed?
What if Esther had been able to write that letter and posted it to West Virginia… What if they had lived together there… What if she began to write, secluded with Doreen, and by degrees relaxed and learned love?
One thing I would like to recognize upfront is the racism displayed by Esther in The Bell Jar. These are period typical but inexcusable attitudes.
While it is a first person narration and not necessarily reflective of the author’s views, I would not say it was handled well. I have wondered how self aware Sylvia Plath was in writing her that way. She is clearly meant as a sympathetic but very flawed character, mired in a horrible culture and not exactly coping with it let alone challenging it. But are the racist themes introduced completed with care or left to sit unexplored? It’s an open question.
Without question, to a person of color the Esther we meet in the books would be unpleasant to know. Missed that on your reads so far? Try another, looking when and how race comes up. Esther is actually very blatantly racist. I will post quotes and discuss it later but suffice it to say she compares her looks to a Chinese woman, conflating that with being ugly, and she disrespects a Black man who is working at the asylum she is in. This is a bad time for her, when she is also very angry and lashing out in general, but it’s pretty clear the tenor of her mean spirit toward this man is racialized and anti-Black. She does not use slurs however. The racial context is present and to me unmistakable but not direct.
The reason I don’t read Doreen as potentially noticeably mixed race herself, based on her description, is that the Esther as characterized in the novel would comment on it, at least in her internal monologue, unfavorably. Still leaves room for a white-passing-to-Esther mixed race Doreen! And of course anything can happen in a full rewrite.
She is deep in the shit with (internalized?) homophobia and internalized misogyny as well. You may want to read for that too — you hopefully have already read it with a fine toothed comb for sexism if you read it in school, but most teaching materials I’ve seen for it oddly miss most of it and do only a little better discussing mental health. They really should include discussing racial dynamics too, but besides women of color speaking up online, I haven’t seen that so far anywhere. I plan to keep looking. Maybe search academic journals or similar where that analysis hopefully exists.
Beyond any critical reading, I was moved by Esther’s story and by the relationship with Doreen that almost was. I tried to let it go but it keeps coming back to my mind, along with an interest in the submerged history of actual lesbian and bisexual women of the time period The Bell Jar is set in. And of the women of any sexuality tied up in neurotic knots by the double-binding sexism of that fast, and unevenly changing time. Career or wife, life is still shit. Try to do both, get double the shit. Sexual women are sinful, sexless women are frigid, and women with woman lovers like Joan…it doesn’t end well. Among the many experiences left untold by The Bell Jar is that of a woman like Joan who made it, who survived and thrived not because she was better but because she had different chances.
Here and Here are some different versions of the whole book online. It’s not copyrighted.
Here is a beautiful stimboard made for my request on the subject of Esther x Doreen.
Here and Here and Here and Here are blogs celebrating all women and same sex love among women. Please share more with me.
I am also putting 30 of my tags on this post so browse away. xx
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Radical Feminist Reading Masterpost
This is a list of books I want to read on the subject of radical feminism. It’s definitely a long journey since many of these books can be difficult to make it through, but I wanted to share this list for anyone else interested.
Let me know if there are any broken links.
Abortion and Pornography: the Sexual Liberals’ “Gotcha” Against Women’s Equality (by Twiss Butler)
A Collection of Essays on Feminism and Sexism in the Anarchist Movement
A Cyborg Manifesto: Science, Technology, and Socialist-Feminism in the Late 20th Century (by Donna Haraway)
A Deafening Silence: Hidden Violence Against Women and Children (by Patrizia Romito)
A Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions (by Chimamanda Ngozi Achidie)
A Voice from the South (by Anna Julia Cooper) 
All About Love (by bell hooks)
African Gender Studies (edited by Oyeronke Oyewumi)
African Women & Feminism (by Oyeronke Oyewumi)
Afro-Fabulations: The Queer Drama of Black Life (by Tavia Nyong’o)
Against Our Will: Men, Women, Rape (by Susan Brownmiller)
Ain’t I a Woman (by bell hooks)
A Mercy (by Toni Morrison)
Americanah (by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie)
An American Marriage (by Tayari Jones)
An Autobiography (by Angela Davis)
An Autobiography (by Assata Shakur)
Ancient Hatred and Its Contemporary Manifestation: the Torture of Lesbians (by Susan Hawthorne)
An End to the Neglect of the Negro Woman (by Claudia Jones)
Angela Davis: a Biography (by Angela Davis)
Anonymous is a Woman: A Global Chronicle of Gender Inequality (by Nina Ansary)
An Orchestra of Minorities (by Chigozie Obioma)
Anticlimax: A Feminist Perspective on the Sexual Revolution (by Sheila Jeffreys)
Are Prisons Obsolete? (by Angela Davis)
The Art of Protest: Culture and Activism from the Civil Rights Movement to the Streets of Seattle (by T.V. Reed)
Assata Shakur (by Assata Shakur)
Ask Me About My Uterus: A Quest to Make Doctors Believe in Women’s Pain (by Abby Norman)
A Vindication of the Rights of Women (by Mary Wollstonecraft)
Backlash: the Undeclared War Against American Women (by Susan Faludi)
Bad Feminist (by Roxanne Gay)
Beauty and Misogryny: Harmful Cultural Practices in the West (by Sheila Jeffreys)
The Beauty Myth (by Naomi Wolf)
Before Sexuality: The Construction of Erotic Experience in the Ancient Greek World (edited with John J. Winkler and Froma I. Zeitlin)
Being Lolita (by Alisson Wood)
The Bell Jar (by Sylvia Plath)
Beloved (by Toni Morrison)
Bewitching: Recalling the Archimagica Powers of Women (by Mary Daly)
Beyond Beautiful (by Anuschka Rees)
Beyond God the Father: Toward a Philosophy of Women’s Liberation (by Mary Day)
Beyond the Frame: Women of Color and Visual Representation (by Angela Davis and Neferti Tadiar)
Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Conscioussness, and the Politics of Empowerment (by Patricia Hill Collins)
Black Feminist Voices in Politics (by Evelyn M. Simien)
Black Looks: Race and Representation (by bell hooks)
Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity (by C. Riley Snorton)
Black. Queer. Southern. Women.: An Oral History (by E. Patrick Johnson)
Black Queer Studies: A Critical Anthology (by E. Patrick Johnson and Mae G. Henderson)
Black Sexual Politics: African Americans, Gender, and the New Racism (by Patricia Hill Collins)
The Black Unicorn (by Audre Lorde)
The Bluest Eye (by Toni Morrison)
The Boundaries of Her Body: A Shocking History of Women’s Rights in America (by Debran Rowland)
Breaking Out Of The "Man Box" (by Tony Porter)
This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color (edited by Cherrie Moraga and Gloria Anzaldua)
Bringing Together Feminist Theory and Practice: A Collective Interview
Butch Queens Up in Pumps: Gender, Performance, and Ballroom Culture in Detroit (by Marlon M. Bailey)
Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body, and Primitive Accumulation (by Sylvia Federici)
The Chalice and the Blade (by Diane Eisler)
Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture (by Peggy Orenstein)
Colonialism and Homosexuality (Robert Aldrich)
Colonize This! Young Women of Color on Today’s Feminism (edited by Bushra Rehman and Daisy Hernadez)
The Colour Purple (by Alice Walker)
The Combahee River Collective Statement
Combatting Cult Mind Control (by Steven Hassan
Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Erasure (by Adrienne Rich)
Confronting the Liberal Lies About Prostitution (by Evelina Giobbe)
Consciousness Raising: A Radical Weapon (by Kathie Sarachild)
The Creation of Patriarchy (by Gerda Lerner)
Cynical Theories: How Activist Scholarship Made Everything about Race, Gender, and Identity―and Why This Harms Everybody (by James Lindsay)
Damned Whores and God's Police: The Colonization of Women in Australia (by Anne Summers)
Daring Greatly (by Brené Brown)
Daring to Be Bad: Radical Feminism in America 1967-1975 (by Alice Echols)
Dear Ijeawele (by Chimamanda Ngozi Achidie)
Delusions of Gender (by Cordelia Fine)
Desert Blood: The Juárez Murders (by Alicia Gaspar De Alba)
Desert Flower (by Waris Dirie)
The Devil in the Shape of a Woman: Witchcraft in Colonial New England (by Carol F. Karlsen)
The Dialect of Sex: A Case for Feminist Revolution (by Shulamith Firestone)
Disappearing Ink: Early Modern Women Philosophers and Their Fate in History (by Eileen O’Neill)
The Disappearing L: Erasure of Lesbian Spaces and Culture (by Bonnie J Morris)
Discrimination by Design: A Feminist Critique of the Man-made Environment (by Leslie Kanes Weisman)
Disposable Domestics: Immigrant Women Workers in the Global Economy (by Grace Chang)
Doing Harm: The Truth About How Bad Medicine and Lazy Science Leave Women Dismissed, Misdiagnosed, and Sick (by Maya Dusenbery)
Doublethink: A Feminist Challenge to Transgenderism (by Janice Raymond)
Drag = Blackface (by Kelly Kleiman)
Epistemology of the Closet (by Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick)
Erotic Island: Art and Activism in the Queer Caribbean (by London K. Gill)
The Erotics of Talk: Women’s Writing and Feminist Paradigms (by Carla Kaplan)
Everyday Male Chauvinism: Intimate Partner Violence Which is Not Called Violence (by Luis Bonino and Peter Szil, with contribution from Gabor Kuszing)
The Evolutionary Origins of Patriarchy (by Barbara Smuts)
Ezili’s Mirrors: Imagining Black Queer Genders (by Omise’eke Natasha Tinsley)
Fasting Girls: A History of Anorexia Nervosa (by Joan Jacobs Brumberg)
Fat is a Feminist Issue (by Susie Orbach)
Father-Daughter Incest (by Judith Lewis Herman)
Female Chauvinist Pigs (by Ariel Levy)
The Feminine Mystique (by Betty Friedan)
Femininity and Domination: Studies in the Phenomenology of Oppression (by Sandra Lee Martky)
Feminism Confronts Technology (Judy Wajcman)
Feminism is for Everybody (by bell hooks)
Feminism Unmodified: Discourses on Life and Law (by Catherine A. MacKinnon)
Feminism without Borders: Decolonizing Theory, Practicing Solidarity (by Chandra Mohanty)
Feminist Pedagogy: Looking Back to Move Forward (editors Robbin Crabtree, David Sapp, and Adela Licona, 2009)
The Feminist Revolution: Second Wave Feminism and the Struggle for Women’s Liberation (by Bonnie J. Morris and D.M. Withers)
The Fifth Season (by N.K. Jemisin)
The Five: The Untold Lives of the Women Killed by Jack the Ripper (by Hallie Rubenhold)
Flesh Wounds: The Culture of Cosmetic Surgery (by Virginia Blum)
For Her Own Good: Two Centuries of the Experts’ Advice to Women (by Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English)
Forced to Care: Coercion and Caregiving in America (by Evelyn Nakano Glenn)
Freedom Is a Constant Struggle (by Angela Davis)
Free Space: A Perspective on the Small Group in Women’s Liberation (by Pamela Allen)
From the Beast to the Blonde: On Fairy Tales and Their Tellers (by Marina Warner)
From Fashion to Politics: Hadassah and Jewish American Women and the Post World War II Era (by Shirli Brautbar)
Galileo’s Middle Finger: Heretics, Activists, and One Scholar’s Search for Justice (by Alice Dreger)
Gay Shame (edited with Valerie Traub)
Gender Epistemologies in Africa: Gendering Traditions, Spaces, Social Institutions, and Identities (edited by Oyeronke Oyewumi)
Gender Trouble (by Judith Butler)
The Girl With the Louding Voice (by Abi Daré)
Girl, Woman, Other (by Bernadine Evaristo)
Global Women: Nannies, Maids, and Sex Workers in the New Economy (edited by Barbara Ehrenreich and Arlie Russell Hochschild)
Going Out of Our Minds: The Metaphysics of Liberation (by Sonia Johnson)
The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering the Religion of the Earth (by Monica Sjöö and Barbara Mor)
Gyn/ecology: The Metaethics of Radical Feminism (by Mary Daly)
Hands, Tools, and Weapons (by Paola Tabet)
Heterosexualism and the Colonial Modern Gender System (by Maria Lugones)
The History of Patriarchy (by Gerda Lerner)
Home Girls: A Black Feminist Anthology (by Barbara Smith)
How Porn Fuels Sex Trafficking
How to Suppress Women’s Writing (by Joanna Russ)
How We Get Free: Black Feminism and the Combahee River Collective (by Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor)
Hunger Makes Me (by Jess Zimmerman)
The Husband Stitch (by Carmen Maria Machado)
I Am Your Sister (by Audre Lorde)
The Icarus Girl (by Helen Oyeyemi)
The Imaginative Argument: A Practical Manifesto for Writers (by Frank Cioffi)
Imperial Leather: Race, Gender, and Sexuality in the Colonial Contest (by Anne McClintock)
Incidents in the Life of a Slave GIrl (by Harriet Jacobs)
The Industrial Vagina: The Political Economy of the Global Sex Trade (by Sheila Jeffreys)
In Harm’s Way: the Pornography Civil Rights Hearing (by Catherine A MacKinnon et Andrea Dworkin)
In Our Time (by Susan Brownmiller)
Intercourse (by Andrea Dworkin)
The Invention of Women: Making African Sense of Western Gender DIscourse (by Oyeronke Oyewumi)
Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men (by Caroline Criado Perez)
Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters (by Abigail Shrier)
Is Art Creating Patriarchy or is Patriarchy Creating Art? (By Mary Daly)
Jane Crow: The Life of Pauli Murray (by Rosalind Rosenberg)
Kill All Normies: Online Culture Wars from 4chan and Tumblr to Trump and the Alt-Right (by Angela Nagle)
Killing the Black Body: Race, Reproduction, and the Meaning of Liberty (by Dorothy Roberts)
Kindred  (by Octavia E. Butler)
Lactivism (by Courtney Jung)
Ladyparts (by Deborah Copaken)
Learning From the Outsider Within: The Sociological Significance of Black Feminist Thought (by Patricia Hill Collins)
The Lesbian and Gay Studies Reader (edited with Henry Abelove and Michele Aina Barale)
The Lesbian Heresy (by Sheila Jeffreys)
Letters From a Warzone (by Andrea Dworkin)
Liberalism and the Death of Feminism (by Catherine MacKinnon)
Liberals, Libertarianism, and the Liberal Arts Establishment (by Susanne Kappeler)
Life and Death (by Andrea Dworkin)
The Light of the World (by Elizabeth Alexander)
Living for the Revolution: Black Feminist Organization 1968-1980 (by Kimberly Springer)
Looking for Lorraine: The Radiant and Radical Life of Lorraine Hansberry (by Imani Perry)
Look Me in the Eye: Old Women, Aging, and Ageism (by Barbara Macdonald, with Cynthia Rich)
Lose Your Mother: A Journey Along the Atlantic Slave Route (by Saidiya Hartman)
Love and Politics: Radical Feminist and Lesbian Theories (by Carol Anne Douglas)
Loving to Survive: Sexual Terror, Male Violence, and Women’s Lives (by Dee Graham)
The Madwoman in the Attic (by Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar)
The Maid’s Daughter: Living Inside and Outside the American Dream (by Mary Romero)
The Many Faces of Backlash (by Florence Rush)
Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality , Identity Politics, and Violence against Women of Color (by Kimberlé Williams Crenshaw)
Marx and Ghandi Were Liberals (by Andrea Dworkin)
Medical Apartheid (by Harriet Washington)
Medieval Households (by David Herlihy)
Men Who Hate Women (by Laura Bates)
Men Who Hate Women and the Women Who Love Them: When Loving Hurts and You Don’t Know Why (by Susan Forward
Mindful Teaching and Teaching Mindfulness: A Guide for Anyone Who Teaches Anything (by Deborah Schoeberlein and Suki Sheth)
Modern Motherhood: Women and Family in England, c. 1945-2000 (by Angela Davis)
More Work for Mother (by Ruth Schwarz Cowan)
Mortgaging Women's Lives: Feminist Critiques of Structural Adjustment (by Pamela Sparr)
My Sister, the Serial Killer (by Oyinkan Braithwaite)
Natural Liberty (by the Sage Femme Collective)
The New Reproductive Technologies (by Gena Corea)
No Angel in the Classroom (by Berenice Malka Fisher)
Nobody’s Victim: Fighting Psychos, Stalkers, Pervs, and Trolls (by Carrie Goldberg)
NW (by Zadie Smith)
Of Woman Born: Motherhood as Experience and Institution (by Adrienne Rich)
Off Our Backs: The Feminist Newsjournal Issue on Mary Daly
The One and the Many: Contemporary Collaborative Art in a Global Context (by Grant Kester)
Only Words (by Catherine MacKinnon)
Origins of the Family, Private Property, and State (by Friedrich Engels)
Our Blood: Prophecies and Discourses on Sexual Politics (by Andrea Dworkin)
Outlaw Women: A Memoir of the War Years 1960-1975 (by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz)
Outsiders: Five Women Writers Who Changed the World (by Lundall Gordon)
Paid For: My Journey Through Prositution (by Rachel Moran)
Paradise (by Toni Morrison)
Pedagogy of the Oppressed (by Paulo Freire)
Periods Gone Public: Taking a Stand for Menstrual Equality (by Jennifer Weiss-Wolf)
The Pimping of Prostitution (by Julie Bindel)
Pleasure Activism (by Adrienne Maree Brown)
Plucked (by Rebecca M. Herzig)
Points Against Postmodernism (by Catherine MacKinnon)
The Politics of Women’s Studies: Testimony from Thirty Founding Mothers (edited by Florence How)
The Porn Industry's Dark Secrets
Pornland: How Porn Has Hijacked Our Sexuality (by Gail Dines)
Pornography: Men Possessing Women (by Andrea Dworkin)
Post-Mortems: Representations of Female Suicide by Drowning in Victorian Culture (by Valerie Messen)
Post-Traumatic Slave Syndrome America’s (by Joy Degruy)
The Power of Feminist Art: The American Movement of the 1970s, History and Impact (edited by Norma Broude and Mary D. Garrard)
Prostitution and Trafficking in Nine Countries (by Melissa Farley, Ann Cotton, Jacqueline Lynne, Sybille Zumbeck, Frida Spiwak, Maria E. Reyes, Dinorah Alvarez, and Ufuk Sezgin)
Queenie (by Candice Carty-Williams)
Race, Class, and Gender: An Anthology (by Margaret L. Andersen)
Racism, Birth Control, and Reproductive Rights (by Angela Davis) 
Radical Feminist Therapy: Working in the Context of Violence (by Bonnie Burstow)
Rape and Sexual Power in Early America (by Sharon Block)
Red at the Bone (by Jacqueline Woodson)
Refusing to be a Man: Essays on Sex and Justice (by John Stoltenberg)
Regretting Motherhood: A Study by Dr Orna Donath (by Dr Orna Donath)
Rethinking Women’s and Gender Studies, (edited by Catherine M. Orr, Ann Braithwaite, and Diane Lichtenstein)
The Right to Sex (by Amia Srinivasan)
Right-Wing Women: The Politics of Domesticated Females (by Andrea Dworkin)
Rising: Dispatches from the New American Shore (by Elizabeth Rush)
The Robber Bride (by Margaret Atwood)
The Sacred Hoop: Recovering the Feminine in American Indian Traditions (by Paula Gunn Allen)
The Roots of Lesbian & Gay Oppression: A Marxist View (by Bob McCubbin; link)
Sadomasochism: Not About Condemnation (an interview with Audre Lorde by Susan Leigh Star)
Sassafrass, Cypress, & Indigo: A Novel (by Ntozake Shange)
Science as Salvation: A Modern Myth and its Making (by Mary Midgley)
SCUM Manifesto (by Valerie Solanas)
The Second Coming of Joan of Arc (by Carolyn Gage)
The Second Sex (by Simone de Beauvoir)
Segregated Sisterhood: Racism and the Politics of American Feminism (by Nancie Caraway)
Seneca Falls and the Origins of the Women’s Rights Movement (by Sally G. McMillen)
Sex Matters: How Male-Centric Medicine Endangers Women's Health and What We Can Do About It (by Alyson J. McGregor)
Sexology and Antifeminism (by Sheila Jeffreys)
Sex Trafficking of Women in the United States (by Janice G. Raymond & Donna M. Hughes)
The Sexualized Body and the Medicalized Authority of Pornography (by Heather Brunskell-Evans)
Sexual Discretion: Black Masculinity and the Politics of Passing (by Jeffrey Q. McCune)
Sexual Liberalism and Survivors of Sexual Abuse (by Valerie Heller)
The Sexual Liberals and the Attack on Feminism (edited by Dorchen Leidhodt and Janice G. Raymond)
Sexual Politics (by Kate Millett)
She Has Her Mother’s Laugh (by Carl Zimmer)
The Silent Patient (by Alex Michaelids)
Sinister Wisdom: A Gathering of Spirit (by North American Indian Women’s Issue)
Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in America (by Melissa V. Harris-Perry)
Sisterhood is Powerful: An Anthology of Writings from the Women’s Liberation Movement (by Robin Morgan)
Social Justice Pedagogy Across the Curriculum: The Practice of Freedom (editors Thandeka K. Chapman and Nikola Hobbel)
Sold: A Story of Modern-Day Slavery (by Sana Muhsen)
Something from the Oven: Reinventing Dinner in 1950s America and Perfection Salad: Women and Cooking at the Turn of the Century (by Laura Shapiro)
Sophia Tolstoy’s diary
The Source of Self-Regard: Selected Essays, Speeches, and Meditations (by Toni Morrison)
The Spinster and Her Enemies: Feminism and Sexuality 1880–1930 (by Sheila Jeffreys)
Spill: Scenes of Black Feminist Fugitivity (by Alexis Pauline Gumbs)
Spiritual Midwifery (by Ina May Gaskin)
Stone Butch Blues (by Leslie Feinberg)
The Story of Jane: The Legendary Underground Feminist Abortion Service (by Laura Kaplan)
The Subjection of Women (by Harriet Taylor)
The Subsistence Perspective: Beyond the Globalized Economy (by Maria Mies and Veronika Bennholdt-Thomsen)
Sula (by Toni Morrison)
Surrogacy: A Human Rights Violation (by Renate Klein)
Susan B Anthony’s Daybook
Taking Charge of Your Fertility (by Toni Weschler)
Taking Our Eyes Off of the Guys (by Sonia Johnson)
Tales of the Lavender Menace: a Memoir of Liberation (by Karla Jay)
Teaching transformation: transcultural classroom dialogues (by AnaLouise Keating)
Territories of the Soul: Queered Belonging in the Black DIaspora (by Nadia Ellis)
Terrorizing women: Femicide in the Americas (by Rosa-Linda Fregoso and Cynthia Bejarano)
Their Eyes Were Watching God (by Zora Neale Hurston)
Them Goon Rules: Fugitive Essays on Radical Black Feminism (by Marquise Bey)
They Say / I Say: The Moves that Matter in Academic Writing (by Gerald Graff and Cathy Birkenstein)
They Were Her Property: White Women as Slave Owners in the American South (by Stephanie E. Jones-Rogers)
Thiefing Sugar: Eroticism Between Women in Caribbean Literature (by Omise’eke Natasha Tinsley)
Things Fall Apart (by Chinua Achebe)
Towards a Feminist Theory of the State (by Catherine MacKinnon)
The Transexual Empire (by Janice Raymond)
Transforming Scholarship: Why Women’s and Gender Studies Students Are Changing Themselves and the World (by Michele Tracy Berger and Cheryl Radeloff)
Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence–From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror (by Judith Herman)
The Trouble Between Us: An Uneasy History of White and Black Women in the Feminist Movement (by Winifred Breines)
Truth About Porn (by Karen Countryman-Roswurm)
Unapologetic: A Black, Queer, Feminist Mandate for Radical Movements (by Charlene A. Carruthers)
Unpacking Gender Dysphoria: A How-To Guide
Unpacking Queer Politics (by Sheila Jeffreys)
Unspeakable Things: Sex, Lies, and Revolution (by Laurie Penny)
Unwell Women: Misdiagnosis and Myth in a Man-Made World (by Elinor Cleghorn)
The Use of Erotic as Power (by Audre Lorde)
The Vagina Bible: The Vulva and the Vagina: Separating the Myth from the Medicine (by Jennifer Gunter)
The Vagina Monologues (by Eve Ensler)
Truth Behind the Fantasy of Porn (by Shelley Lubben)
Varat Och Varan: Prostitution, Surrogatmodraskap Och Den Delade Manniskan (by Kajsa Ekis Ekman)
Visible Identities: Race, Gender, and the Self (Studies in Feminist Philosophy) (by Linda Alcoff)
The Visual Culture Reader, 2nd edition, (edited by Nicholas Mirzoeff)
Voices of African American Women in Prison (by Paula C. Johnson)
Virginia Woolf: the Impact of Childhood Sexual Abuse on Her Life and Work (by Louise A. DeSalvo)
Welcome to Fairyland: Queer Miami Before 1940 (by Julio Capo Jr.)
We Should All Be Feminists (by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie)
What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours (by Helen Oyeyemi)
Where the Wild Ladies Are (by Aoko Matsuda)
White Fragility
White Teeth (by Zadie Smith)
Who Cooked the Last Supper: A Women’s History of the World (by Rosalind Miles)
The Whole Woman (by Germaine Greer)
Who Look At Me: Shifting the Gaze of Education Through Blackness, Queerness, and the Body (Durrell Callier and Damonique C. Hill)
Why a Materialist Feminism is (Still) Possible and Necessary (by Stevi Jackson)
Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men (by Lundy Bancroft)
Why Women Are Blamed For Everything (by Dr Jessica Taylor)
Wide Sargasso Sea (by Jean Rhys)
Wildfire: Igniting the She/Volution (by Sonia Johnson)
The Wind in My Hair: My Fight for Freedom in Modern Iran (by Masih Alinejad)
Witch (by Lisa Lister)
Witches, Midwives, and Nurses: A history of Women Healers (by Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English)
Woman on the Edge of Time (by Marge Piercy)
Women and Civil Liberties (by Kathleen A. Lahey)
Women and their Bodies (by Boston Women’s Health Collective)
Women and War (by Jean Bethke Elshtain)
Women as a Force in History: A Study in Traditions and Realities (by Mary Beard)
Woman Hating (by Andrea Dworkin)
Women in the Yoruba Religious Sphere (by Oyeronke Olajubu)
The Women of Brewster Place (by Gloria Naylor)
Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype (by Clarrissa Pinkola Estes)
Women, Race, and Class (by Angela Davis)
Women’s Liberation and the African Freedom Struggle (by Thomas Sankara)
The Women’s Room (by Marilyn French)
Women’s Studies for the Future: Foundations, Interrogations, Politcs (edited by Elizabeth Lapovsky Kennedy and Agatha Beins)
Women With Mustaches and Men Without Beards: Gender and Secual Anxieties of Iranian Modernity (by Afsaneh Najmabadi)
The World We Have Lost (by Peter Laslett)
This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color (edited by Cherie Moraga and Gloria Anzaldua)
Yearning: Race, Gender, and Cultural Politics (by bell hooks)
Zami Sister Outsider Undersong (by Audre Lorde)
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187days · 4 years
Text
Day One Hundred Eleven
I taught a doozy of a lesson in APUSGOV this morning. I started by recapping the discussion we’d had before vacation about the failure of Reconstruction, Jim Crow, the rise of the KKK, etc... Then I showed an excerpt from PBS/Frontline’s Documenting Hate, which starts with the Charlottesville riots and expands its examination of the white supremacist movement from there. It’s heavy stuff, and sometimes here in (very white) northern New England kids think of racism as something that happened a long time ago in the south, so it can be really jarring for them. I fielded questions and comments for the remainder of class, and probably could have gone on doing so for several more minutes if there’d been time. At the bell, I overheard two students saying that a third- I didn’t catch who it was- hadn’t known that Charlottesville had happened. 
I’ve gone back and forth all day about whether or not that’s surprising. 
Anyways... Now students have had a glimpse at two points in the history of race relations in America, the Jim Crow era and the present day, and I’m going to teach my way through the key things that happened in between in future classes. That’s the World Wars, the 1948 election, the Civil Rights Movement, Vietnam, etc, etc... That will be fun and frequently inspiring- though it’s tragic, at points, too, and there’s so much work remaining- but today was just tough.
I physically shook off the weight of the lesson as my ninth graders came in for World- rolled my shoulders out, took deep breaths, got some water- and taught about Syria and Iraq after the defeat of ISIS. I had them get in groups and read a couple articles about the struggles to rebuild, the concerns about the US troop withdrawals, and the renewed tensions between Iran and Iraq. For each article, I had them put down important points on sticky notes; if multiple people int he same group had a similar point, they stacked those sticky notes. Then I had them converse with another group, and stack their sticky notes again. I hadn’t done a lesson that way before- it’s a thing I learned from a PD session on our last teacher workshop day- but I really liked it. It was a neat way for them to share what had stood out to them in their reading, and to think about organizing ideas, and it went well. 
After lunch, I shared king cake with the rest of The Cacophony because it’s Mardi Gras, and then Mrs. T and I went to the local bookstore to pick up some new books for our next unit. She was picking up books for the rest of the English department, too, so she brought me along to help carry boxes. And, of course, we made a coffee run while we were out. I shelved our books as soon as we got back, then spent the rest of my prep time grading. 
There may or may not be a nor’easter coming in tomorrow, so who knows what the remainder of my work week is going to look like!
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marimobath · 5 years
Note
what’d sylvia plath do..
TW: racism/antisemitism
tl;dr she was racist and very antisemitic.
pretty much all of her writing includes racial epithets or insults. you can find one in every other chapter of the bell jar.
she developed outrageously misguided (?) and shitty metaphors to make sense of her position as a white woman, specifically one of german/austrian descent. you can absolutely see this in her work, especially the poem “Daddy”, where she compares herself and her experience of abuse to the holocaust and concentration camp victims.
There is debate surrounding exactly what plath was trying to do with race (and if she succeeded) in her writing, with dozens of academic articles. however in her personal journal entries she very clearly despises jewish people. there is no other way to read it.
Here’s a link detailing exact quotes but please exercise caution because the content is deeply hateful and disturbing.
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seeselfblack · 6 years
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Missed in Coverage of Jack Johnson, the Racism Around Him 
By John Eligon and Brandon K. Thorp
“The big black” and “the big negro” are just two of the phrases that The New York Times used to describe Jack Johnson.
“Johnson Weds White Girl” was the headline when he married Lucille Cameron in 1912. He has been called a “negro pugilist and convicted white slaver,” who left a stain “on boxing and on his race” and abused “the fame and fortune that came to him.” Yet, condescendingly, he also was described as being “far above the average negro both mentally and physically.”
For The Times, Johnson, who in 1908 became the first black boxer to win the world heavyweight title, was inseparable from his race. It permeated how the newspaper covered every detail of his life, from his boxing to his legal troubles to his demeanor and success.
The Times’s coverage illuminates the challenges for broad acceptance faced by Johnson, who inspired the 1967 play and 1970 movie “The Great White Hope,” an account of his life and career and the resolve of white society to dethrone him, both in the ring and outside it.
Johnson resurfaced in the news last month when President Trump tweeted that he would consider pardoning Johnson, who was convicted on federal charges of transporting a woman across state lines “for immoral purposes.” Johnson, who served a year in prison, had been a lover of that woman, Belle Schreiber, who was white and had worked as a prostitute.
President Trump announced the pardon on Thursday.
The campaign for it had been complicated in part by allegations that Johnson had a history of domestic violence, as historians have chronicled. It was one reason the Obama administration cited for not granting a pardon.
In preparing articles on the president’s intentions, we examined our coverage of Johnson from his era, and were struck by how The Times, like many newspapers then, seemed to wrestle with his fame and race.
As Johnson’s chaotic life unfolded, The Times often covered it extensively, but time and distance now allow for a recognition, seemingly oblivious to the writers at the time, of the racial overtones around many of the troubles he faced.
Often, official police accounts of his run-ins with the law were simply parroted without any probing or deeper analysis of what truly had happened. This sort of blind faith in the police version, typical of the day, was particularly damaging to people like Johnson. He was a well-known black athlete who, at a time when racial animosity and lynchings were widespread, was brash, taunted his opponents, dated white women and openly enjoyed the luxuries of his wealth.
Today, people still seem to struggle with black athletes who are outspoken. So while the harsh and sometimes racist tone of the coverage came as no surprise, it was jarring still. Johnson, a native of Galveston, Tex., began his professional boxing career in 1897, but The Times did not start covering him until about a decade later as he grew to become a leading contender for a world title. The Times’s articles showed that the public could not necessarily stomach a black man achieving that accomplishment. The articles about his boxing were highly critical of him, even when he found success.
Continue reading over at NYTimes.com 
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New Post has been published on https://fitnesshealthyoga.com/difference-between-yoga-cultural-appropriation-and-cultural-appreciation/
Difference Between Yoga Cultural Appropriation and Cultural Appreciation
Unsure of the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation? Read on to find out. 
When I began contributing to yoga research five years ago, I was invited to a meeting to discuss how to bring yoga and mindfulness practices to university campuses as wellness initiatives. Thirteen out of 15 American administrators and researchers at the conference table happened to be white, the only exceptions being me and another Indian-American woman. The person in charge had thoughtfully invited both of us; though newer to research, we were experienced in yoga teachings because of our South Asian culture and decade-long practices. Entering the room was both moving and intimidating. On one hand, I was honored to share my cultural and personal understandings of yoga. On the other hand, I was one of only two nonwhite people in a group gathering to talk about a practice that originated in India.
Thanks for watching!Visit Website
Conscious of my identity, I used yogic principles to set aside my conditioned fears and preconceptions and opened my mind to discussing yoga—the practice of self-realization that has transformed my life.
Thanks for watching!Visit Website
Thanks for watching!Visit Website
See also The First Book of Yoga: The Enduring Influence of the Bhagavad Gita
I soon found myself in respectful conversation with everyone at the table: Yoga and mindfulness-based practices can provide what we call “healing” in Eastern tradition, and what we call psychological and physiological “benefits” in Western research. Although we used different words, we were saying similar things.
Until the middle of the meeting.
One of the administrators said, “We’ll need to create a set of guidelines to ensure absolutely no Eastern symbols, bells, or words are used in yoga classes. We can’t make anyone uncomfortable or offend them by suggesting spirituality.”
I don’t believe that Indian words or symbols are required for people to benefit from yoga, but this leader, who was in favor of creating an inclusive yoga experience “for all,” wanted to remove any sign of the land where the practice originated. She overlooked the fact that two yoga teachers with Indian heritage sitting right across from her were the ones left to nurse our exclusion and offense.
See also The Debate: Teach With English or Sanskrit Pose Names?
Invisible oppression is something many Indians have been forced to endure in quiet pain for centuries. Like when you learn about a popular yoga movement and book jarringly titled No Om Zone: A No-Chanting, No-Granola, No-Sanskrit Practical Guide to Yoga. The title itself normalizes ethnocentric views of yoga, India, and people who chant. The irony of a movement like this is that it renders fear of foreign words while allowing itself to brand and use the Indian practice of yoga, a Sanskrit word signifying “unity” or “yoke.”
Those without access to an in-depth history education might lighten this to a question of political correctness or cries by minorities for cultural recognition. But it goes so much deeper.
Yoga is an ancient spiritual practice of self-realization that originated in India, but, in addition to Indian devotional practices such as sacred dance, it was perceived as threatening, ridiculed, and banned among its own people in its own land under British colonization, beginning in the 1700s and lasting until the mid-1900s. Today, yoga is often marketed by affluent Westerners to affluent Westerners—and Indians, ironically, are marginally represented, if at all. While this multibillion-dollar industry is offering much-needed well-being to Western practitioners, it’s re-inflicting the same violation on India and Indians: invisibility and misrepresentation.
See also A Beginner’s Guide to the History of Yoga
Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations.
What is Cultural Appropriation?
In recent years, conversation has begun around the “cultural appropriation” of yoga. Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations. The problem is incredibly complex and involves two extremes: The first is the sterilization of yoga by removing evidence of its Eastern roots so that it doesn’t “offend” Westerner practitioners. The opposite extreme is the glamorization of yoga and India through commercialism, such as Om tattoos, T-shirts sporting Hindu deities or Sanskrit scriptures that are often conflated with yoga, or the choosing of Indian names.
Yoga teachers and students are starting to ask the questions, “What is the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation?” and “How can I still practice yoga without being offensive?”
See also Do You Really Know the True Meaning of Yoga?
According to Rumya S. Putcha, PhD, a scholar of postcolonial, critical race, and gender studies, we’re still asking the wrong questions. “The terminology ‘cultural appropriation,’ in and of itself, is a way of diluting the fact that we’re talking about racism and European colonialism,” she says. “It undermines what is happening as only ‘culturally inappropriate’ so as not to disrupt mass yoga marketing, leading us to ask surface-level questions like ‘I don’t want to be culturally inappropriate, so how can I show cultural appreciation appropriately?’ It’s not about appreciation versus appropriation. It’s about understanding the role of power and the legacies of imperialism.”
Shreena Gandhi, PhD, a religious studies professor at Michigan State University, and Lillie Wolff, an advocate with Crossroads Antiracism, emphasized in their 2017 article “Yoga and the Roots of Cultural Appropriation” that the goal of these conversations should not be for white practitioners to stop practicing yoga, but rather for them “to please take a moment to look outside of yourself and understand how the history of yoga practice in the United States is intimately linked to larger forces”—such as colonization, oppression, and the fact that a devotional practice that was free of cost for thousands of years is now being marketed and sold.
See also The Timeline and History of Yoga in America
As an Indian-American teacher, practitioner, and writer, I often ponder why this means so much to me and why I can’t offer simple bullet points for what makes something “appreciative” versus “appropriative” of yoga. I just know when I start to feel sick or hurt—like at a conference table when an administrator suggests that Eastern elements, such as bells used to train the mind to focus on the present (dhyana), will threaten the comfort of white American practitioners. Or when the young CEO of a new yoga organization asks me where she can get her 300-hour yoga certification done the fastest, missing that yoga is a lifelong process of balanced living. Or when I see social media celebrities and yoga advertisements promoting athletic, model-like bodies in sexy apparel, potentially encouraging more attachment to items and creating insecurities rather than relieving people of suffering. Or when I’m walking by a shop with my parents, only to see their confusion over why holy Hindu scriptures—which my father can read, being literate in Sanskrit—were printed on a hoodie and tossed into a sale pile.
“I think they don’t realize that these are not just designs. They are words that carry deep meaning for people,” my father says.
See also Sanskrit 101: 4 Reasons Why Studying This Ancient Language Is Worth Your Time
Ask these questions to deeper your understanding around cultural appropriation.
Questions to Ask about Cultural Appropriation 
His sentiments make me realize that many Western yoga companies and consumers are unaware of what they are branding and buying. And that’s what we need to change together, by asking deeper questions such as:
“Do I really understand the history of the yoga practice I’m so freely allowed to practice today that was once ridiculed and prohibited by colonists in India?”
“As I continue to learn, am I comfortable with the practices and purchases I’m choosing to make, or should I make some changes?”
“Does the practice I live promote peace and integrity for all?”
Educating ourselves, like the practice of yoga, can be seen as an evolutionary process. Start where you are. You may have already developed a lot of awareness that is becoming more finely tuned. And for some—Indian or not Indian, experienced yoga practitioners or not—this article is a first-time exposure to something you never realized.
See also The Wake-Up Call Yogis Need to Bring ‘Real Yoga’ Back Into Their Practice
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. 
Christopher Dougherty
About our author
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. Having grown up with Indian yoga philosophy, she rediscovered its profound value as a New York City public school teacher. For the past 15 years, she has practiced and shared the benefits of yoga across the globe. After studying yoga and mindfulness as self-regulation at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, she designs curriculum for science research and K–12 education. She is the author of Jars of Space, a new book of handwritten and illustrated yogic poetry. Learn more at @rinathepoet or rinadeshpande.com.
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lajulie24 · 7 years
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Random but I hate sleeping through a good chat/ask session. What are your top 3 books that you think everyone should read? And your favourite season?
I love random! (And sorry for the delay in getting to this; I think I went to bed shortly before you sent it.)
Top 3 books: I am terrible at narrowing down things like this, so rather than tell you the ultimate three books everyone should read, I’m going to pick three books that stand out to me for various reasons and tell you why. (And I do think people should read these!)
1. Remembered Rapture: the writer at work by bell hooks. Basically, I would recommend anything bell hooks writes; she not only writes beautifully, but she challenges me to think critically about so many things. She was writing about intersectionality among race, class, gender, sexuality, etc when almost nobody was talking about this. This particular book is a series of essays about her life as a writer, and I found myself really relating to many of her experiences, even ones that were a lot different than mine.
2. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. They just made this book into a movie starring Oprah Winfrey, but I read this book a number of years ago and fell in love with it. It’s a fascinating combination of Henrietta Lacks’ own personal story, the science and the story behind what happened to her cells, her daughter’s quest to know something about the mother she wasn’t old enough to remember, the racism and politics behind the scenes of scientific inquiry…it’s an odd combination of things, but very compelling.
3. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. I don’t think this book gets enough credit, because people throw it into the “Sylvia Plath suicide” drawer and don’t look at it on its own merits. It’s a deeply funny and compelling novel about a young woman (Esther Greenwood, who is a stand-in for Plath here) who is talented and witty and thinks she should be happy…but isn’t. There’s a suicide attempt in it, but that particular part isn’t really what the book is about; it’s about the experience of living “in the bell jar” of severe depression but also about the difficulty of living in a world where it feels like your choices have already been made for you. And did I mention that it’s funny?
Favorite season: Ooh, this is difficult. I’d say summer, because I just love the sun. And I grew up in a place that is fairly hot and humid, so for me it’s not really summer if it doesn’t get hot for at least a little while.
Thanks, this was fun to write!
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cedarrrun · 5 years
Link
A first-generation Indian-American yoga and mindfulness researcher and teacher reflects on what feels misrepresented and appropriative to her in modern yoga.
Unsure of the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation? Read on to find out. 
When I began contributing to yoga research five years ago, I was invited to a meeting to discuss how to bring yoga and mindfulness practices to university campuses as wellness initiatives. Thirteen out of 15 American administrators and researchers at the conference table happened to be white, the only exceptions being me and another Indian-American woman. The person in charge had thoughtfully invited both of us; though newer to research, we were experienced in yoga teachings because of our South Asian culture and decade-long practices. Entering the room was both moving and intimidating. On one hand, I was honored to share my cultural and personal understandings of yoga. On the other hand, I was one of only two nonwhite people in a group gathering to talk about a practice that originated in India.
Conscious of my identity, I used yogic principles to set aside my conditioned fears and preconceptions and opened my mind to discussing yoga—the practice of self-realization that has transformed my life.
See also The First Book of Yoga: The Enduring Influence of the Bhagavad Gita
I soon found myself in respectful conversation with everyone at the table: Yoga and mindfulness-based practices can provide what we call “healing” in Eastern tradition, and what we call psychological and physiological “benefits” in Western research. Although we used different words, we were saying similar things.
Until the middle of the meeting.
One of the administrators said, “We’ll need to create a set of guidelines to ensure absolutely no Eastern symbols, bells, or words are used in yoga classes. We can’t make anyone uncomfortable or offend them by suggesting spirituality.”
I don’t believe that Indian words or symbols are required for people to benefit from yoga, but this leader, who was in favor of creating an inclusive yoga experience “for all,” wanted to remove any sign of the land where the practice originated. She overlooked the fact that two yoga teachers with Indian heritage sitting right across from her were the ones left to nurse our exclusion and offense.
See also The Debate: Teach With English or Sanskrit Pose Names?
Invisible oppression is something many Indians have been forced to endure in quiet pain for centuries. Like when you learn about a popular yoga movement and book jarringly titled No Om Zone: A No-Chanting, No-Granola, No-Sanskrit Practical Guide to Yoga. The title itself normalizes ethnocentric views of yoga, India, and people who chant. The irony of a movement like this is that it renders fear of foreign words while allowing itself to brand and use the Indian practice of yoga, a Sanskrit word signifying “unity” or “yoke.”
Those without access to an in-depth history education might lighten this to a question of political correctness or cries by minorities for cultural recognition. But it goes so much deeper.
Yoga is an ancient spiritual practice of self-realization that originated in India, but, in addition to Indian devotional practices such as sacred dance, it was perceived as threatening, ridiculed, and banned among its own people in its own land under British colonization, beginning in the 1700s and lasting until the mid-1900s. Today, yoga is often marketed by affluent Westerners to affluent Westerners—and Indians, ironically, are marginally represented, if at all. While this multibillion-dollar industry is offering much-needed well-being to Western practitioners, it’s re-inflicting the same violation on India and Indians: invisibility and misrepresentation.
See also A Beginner's Guide to the History of Yoga
Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations.
What is Cultural Appropriation?
In recent years, conversation has begun around the “cultural appropriation” of yoga. Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations. The problem is incredibly complex and involves two extremes: The first is the sterilization of yoga by removing evidence of its Eastern roots so that it doesn’t “offend” Westerner practitioners. The opposite extreme is the glamorization of yoga and India through commercialism, such as Om tattoos, T-shirts sporting Hindu deities or Sanskrit scriptures that are often conflated with yoga, or the choosing of Indian names.
Yoga teachers and students are starting to ask the questions, “What is the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation?” and “How can I still practice yoga without being offensive?”
See also Do You Really Know the True Meaning of Yoga?
According to Rumya S. Putcha, PhD, a scholar of postcolonial, critical race, and gender studies, we’re still asking the wrong questions. “The terminology ‘cultural appropriation,’ in and of itself, is a way of diluting the fact that we’re talking about racism and European colonialism,” she says. “It undermines what is happening as only ‘culturally inappropriate’ so as not to disrupt mass yoga marketing, leading us to ask surface-level questions like ‘I don’t want to be culturally inappropriate, so how can I show cultural appreciation appropriately?’ It’s not about appreciation versus appropriation. It’s about understanding the role of power and the legacies of imperialism.”
Shreena Gandhi, PhD, a religious studies professor at Michigan State University, and Lillie Wolff, an advocate with Crossroads Antiracism, emphasized in their 2017 article “Yoga and the Roots of Cultural Appropriation” that the goal of these conversations should not be for white practitioners to stop practicing yoga, but rather for them “to please take a moment to look outside of yourself and understand how the history of yoga practice in the United States is intimately linked to larger forces”—such as colonization, oppression, and the fact that a devotional practice that was free of cost for thousands of years is now being marketed and sold.
See also The Timeline and History of Yoga in America
As an Indian-American teacher, practitioner, and writer, I often ponder why this means so much to me and why I can’t offer simple bullet points for what makes something “appreciative” versus “appropriative” of yoga. I just know when I start to feel sick or hurt—like at a conference table when an administrator suggests that Eastern elements, such as bells used to train the mind to focus on the present (dhyana), will threaten the comfort of white American practitioners. Or when the young CEO of a new yoga organization asks me where she can get her 300-hour yoga certification done the fastest, missing that yoga is a lifelong process of balanced living. Or when I see social media celebrities and yoga advertisements promoting athletic, model-like bodies in sexy apparel, potentially encouraging more attachment to items and creating insecurities rather than relieving people of suffering. Or when I’m walking by a shop with my parents, only to see their confusion over why holy Hindu scriptures—which my father can read, being literate in Sanskrit—were printed on a hoodie and tossed into a sale pile.
“I think they don’t realize that these are not just designs. They are words that carry deep meaning for people,” my father says.
See also Sanskrit 101: 4 Reasons Why Studying This Ancient Language Is Worth Your Time
Ask these questions to deeper your understanding around cultural appropriation.
Questions to Ask about Cultural Appropriation 
His sentiments make me realize that many Western yoga companies and consumers are unaware of what they are branding and buying. And that’s what we need to change together, by asking deeper questions such as:
“Do I really understand the history of the yoga practice I’m so freely allowed to practice today that was once ridiculed and prohibited by colonists in India?”
“As I continue to learn, am I comfortable with the practices and purchases I’m choosing to make, or should I make some changes?”
“Does the practice I live promote peace and integrity for all?”
Educating ourselves, like the practice of yoga, can be seen as an evolutionary process. Start where you are. You may have already developed a lot of awareness that is becoming more finely tuned. And for some—Indian or not Indian, experienced yoga practitioners or not—this article is a first-time exposure to something you never realized.
See also The Wake-Up Call Yogis Need to Bring 'Real Yoga' Back Into Their Practice
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. 
About our author
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. Having grown up with Indian yoga philosophy, she rediscovered its profound value as a New York City public school teacher. For the past 15 years, she has practiced and shared the benefits of yoga across the globe. After studying yoga and mindfulness as self-regulation at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, she designs curriculum for science research and K–12 education. She is the author of Jars of Space, a new book of handwritten and illustrated yogic poetry. Learn more at @rinathepoet or rinadeshpande.com.
0 notes
krisiunicornio · 5 years
Link
A first-generation Indian-American yoga and mindfulness researcher and teacher reflects on what feels misrepresented and appropriative to her in modern yoga.
Unsure of the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation? Read on to find out. 
When I began contributing to yoga research five years ago, I was invited to a meeting to discuss how to bring yoga and mindfulness practices to university campuses as wellness initiatives. Thirteen out of 15 American administrators and researchers at the conference table happened to be white, the only exceptions being me and another Indian-American woman. The person in charge had thoughtfully invited both of us; though newer to research, we were experienced in yoga teachings because of our South Asian culture and decade-long practices. Entering the room was both moving and intimidating. On one hand, I was honored to share my cultural and personal understandings of yoga. On the other hand, I was one of only two nonwhite people in a group gathering to talk about a practice that originated in India.
Conscious of my identity, I used yogic principles to set aside my conditioned fears and preconceptions and opened my mind to discussing yoga—the practice of self-realization that has transformed my life.
See also The First Book of Yoga: The Enduring Influence of the Bhagavad Gita
I soon found myself in respectful conversation with everyone at the table: Yoga and mindfulness-based practices can provide what we call “healing” in Eastern tradition, and what we call psychological and physiological “benefits” in Western research. Although we used different words, we were saying similar things.
Until the middle of the meeting.
One of the administrators said, “We’ll need to create a set of guidelines to ensure absolutely no Eastern symbols, bells, or words are used in yoga classes. We can’t make anyone uncomfortable or offend them by suggesting spirituality.”
I don’t believe that Indian words or symbols are required for people to benefit from yoga, but this leader, who was in favor of creating an inclusive yoga experience “for all,” wanted to remove any sign of the land where the practice originated. She overlooked the fact that two yoga teachers with Indian heritage sitting right across from her were the ones left to nurse our exclusion and offense.
See also The Debate: Teach With English or Sanskrit Pose Names?
Invisible oppression is something many Indians have been forced to endure in quiet pain for centuries. Like when you learn about a popular yoga movement and book jarringly titled No Om Zone: A No-Chanting, No-Granola, No-Sanskrit Practical Guide to Yoga. The title itself normalizes ethnocentric views of yoga, India, and people who chant. The irony of a movement like this is that it renders fear of foreign words while allowing itself to brand and use the Indian practice of yoga, a Sanskrit word signifying “unity” or “yoke.”
Those without access to an in-depth history education might lighten this to a question of political correctness or cries by minorities for cultural recognition. But it goes so much deeper.
Yoga is an ancient spiritual practice of self-realization that originated in India, but, in addition to Indian devotional practices such as sacred dance, it was perceived as threatening, ridiculed, and banned among its own people in its own land under British colonization, beginning in the 1700s and lasting until the mid-1900s. Today, yoga is often marketed by affluent Westerners to affluent Westerners—and Indians, ironically, are marginally represented, if at all. While this multibillion-dollar industry is offering much-needed well-being to Western practitioners, it’s re-inflicting the same violation on India and Indians: invisibility and misrepresentation.
See also A Beginner's Guide to the History of Yoga
Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations.
What is Cultural Appropriation?
In recent years, conversation has begun around the “cultural appropriation” of yoga. Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations. The problem is incredibly complex and involves two extremes: The first is the sterilization of yoga by removing evidence of its Eastern roots so that it doesn’t “offend” Westerner practitioners. The opposite extreme is the glamorization of yoga and India through commercialism, such as Om tattoos, T-shirts sporting Hindu deities or Sanskrit scriptures that are often conflated with yoga, or the choosing of Indian names.
Yoga teachers and students are starting to ask the questions, “What is the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation?” and “How can I still practice yoga without being offensive?”
See also Do You Really Know the True Meaning of Yoga?
According to Rumya S. Putcha, PhD, a scholar of postcolonial, critical race, and gender studies, we’re still asking the wrong questions. “The terminology ‘cultural appropriation,’ in and of itself, is a way of diluting the fact that we’re talking about racism and European colonialism,” she says. “It undermines what is happening as only ‘culturally inappropriate’ so as not to disrupt mass yoga marketing, leading us to ask surface-level questions like ‘I don’t want to be culturally inappropriate, so how can I show cultural appreciation appropriately?’ It’s not about appreciation versus appropriation. It’s about understanding the role of power and the legacies of imperialism.”
Shreena Gandhi, PhD, a religious studies professor at Michigan State University, and Lillie Wolff, an advocate with Crossroads Antiracism, emphasized in their 2017 article “Yoga and the Roots of Cultural Appropriation” that the goal of these conversations should not be for white practitioners to stop practicing yoga, but rather for them “to please take a moment to look outside of yourself and understand how the history of yoga practice in the United States is intimately linked to larger forces”—such as colonization, oppression, and the fact that a devotional practice that was free of cost for thousands of years is now being marketed and sold.
See also The Timeline and History of Yoga in America
As an Indian-American teacher, practitioner, and writer, I often ponder why this means so much to me and why I can’t offer simple bullet points for what makes something “appreciative” versus “appropriative” of yoga. I just know when I start to feel sick or hurt—like at a conference table when an administrator suggests that Eastern elements, such as bells used to train the mind to focus on the present (dhyana), will threaten the comfort of white American practitioners. Or when the young CEO of a new yoga organization asks me where she can get her 300-hour yoga certification done the fastest, missing that yoga is a lifelong process of balanced living. Or when I see social media celebrities and yoga advertisements promoting athletic, model-like bodies in sexy apparel, potentially encouraging more attachment to items and creating insecurities rather than relieving people of suffering. Or when I’m walking by a shop with my parents, only to see their confusion over why holy Hindu scriptures—which my father can read, being literate in Sanskrit—were printed on a hoodie and tossed into a sale pile.
“I think they don’t realize that these are not just designs. They are words that carry deep meaning for people,” my father says.
See also Sanskrit 101: 4 Reasons Why Studying This Ancient Language Is Worth Your Time
Ask these questions to deeper your understanding around cultural appropriation.
Questions to Ask about Cultural Appropriation 
His sentiments make me realize that many Western yoga companies and consumers are unaware of what they are branding and buying. And that’s what we need to change together, by asking deeper questions such as:
“Do I really understand the history of the yoga practice I’m so freely allowed to practice today that was once ridiculed and prohibited by colonists in India?”
“As I continue to learn, am I comfortable with the practices and purchases I’m choosing to make, or should I make some changes?”
“Does the practice I live promote peace and integrity for all?”
Educating ourselves, like the practice of yoga, can be seen as an evolutionary process. Start where you are. You may have already developed a lot of awareness that is becoming more finely tuned. And for some—Indian or not Indian, experienced yoga practitioners or not—this article is a first-time exposure to something you never realized.
See also The Wake-Up Call Yogis Need to Bring 'Real Yoga' Back Into Their Practice
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. 
About our author
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. Having grown up with Indian yoga philosophy, she rediscovered its profound value as a New York City public school teacher. For the past 15 years, she has practiced and shared the benefits of yoga across the globe. After studying yoga and mindfulness as self-regulation at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, she designs curriculum for science research and K–12 education. She is the author of Jars of Space, a new book of handwritten and illustrated yogic poetry. Learn more at @rinathepoet or rinadeshpande.com.
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amyddaniels · 5 years
Text
What's the Difference Between Cultural Appropriation and Cultural Appreciation?
A first-generation Indian-American yoga and mindfulness researcher and teacher reflects on what feels misrepresented and appropriative to her in modern yoga.
Unsure of the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation? Read on to find out. 
When I began contributing to yoga research five years ago, I was invited to a meeting to discuss how to bring yoga and mindfulness practices to university campuses as wellness initiatives. Thirteen out of 15 American administrators and researchers at the conference table happened to be white, the only exceptions being me and another Indian-American woman. The person in charge had thoughtfully invited both of us; though newer to research, we were experienced in yoga teachings because of our South Asian culture and decade-long practices. Entering the room was both moving and intimidating. On one hand, I was honored to share my cultural and personal understandings of yoga. On the other hand, I was one of only two nonwhite people in a group gathering to talk about a practice that originated in India.
Conscious of my identity, I used yogic principles to set aside my conditioned fears and preconceptions and opened my mind to discussing yoga—the practice of self-realization that has transformed my life.
See also The First Book of Yoga: The Enduring Influence of the Bhagavad Gita
I soon found myself in respectful conversation with everyone at the table: Yoga and mindfulness-based practices can provide what we call “healing” in Eastern tradition, and what we call psychological and physiological “benefits” in Western research. Although we used different words, we were saying similar things.
Until the middle of the meeting.
One of the administrators said, “We’ll need to create a set of guidelines to ensure absolutely no Eastern symbols, bells, or words are used in yoga classes. We can’t make anyone uncomfortable or offend them by suggesting spirituality.”
I don’t believe that Indian words or symbols are required for people to benefit from yoga, but this leader, who was in favor of creating an inclusive yoga experience “for all,” wanted to remove any sign of the land where the practice originated. She overlooked the fact that two yoga teachers with Indian heritage sitting right across from her were the ones left to nurse our exclusion and offense.
See also The Debate: Teach With English or Sanskrit Pose Names?
Invisible oppression is something many Indians have been forced to endure in quiet pain for centuries. Like when you learn about a popular yoga movement and book jarringly titled No Om Zone: A No-Chanting, No-Granola, No-Sanskrit Practical Guide to Yoga. The title itself normalizes ethnocentric views of yoga, India, and people who chant. The irony of a movement like this is that it renders fear of foreign words while allowing itself to brand and use the Indian practice of yoga, a Sanskrit word signifying “unity” or “yoke.”
Those without access to an in-depth history education might lighten this to a question of political correctness or cries by minorities for cultural recognition. But it goes so much deeper.
Yoga is an ancient spiritual practice of self-realization that originated in India, but, in addition to Indian devotional practices such as sacred dance, it was perceived as threatening, ridiculed, and banned among its own people in its own land under British colonization, beginning in the 1700s and lasting until the mid-1900s. Today, yoga is often marketed by affluent Westerners to affluent Westerners—and Indians, ironically, are marginally represented, if at all. While this multibillion-dollar industry is offering much-needed well-being to Western practitioners, it’s re-inflicting the same violation on India and Indians: invisibility and misrepresentation.
See also A Beginner's Guide to the History of Yoga
Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations.
What is Cultural Appropriation?
In recent years, conversation has begun around the “cultural appropriation” of yoga. Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations. The problem is incredibly complex and involves two extremes: The first is the sterilization of yoga by removing evidence of its Eastern roots so that it doesn’t “offend” Westerner practitioners. The opposite extreme is the glamorization of yoga and India through commercialism, such as Om tattoos, T-shirts sporting Hindu deities or Sanskrit scriptures that are often conflated with yoga, or the choosing of Indian names.
Yoga teachers and students are starting to ask the questions, “What is the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation?” and “How can I still practice yoga without being offensive?”
See also Do You Really Know the True Meaning of Yoga?
According to Rumya S. Putcha, PhD, a scholar of postcolonial, critical race, and gender studies, we’re still asking the wrong questions. “The terminology ‘cultural appropriation,’ in and of itself, is a way of diluting the fact that we’re talking about racism and European colonialism,” she says. “It undermines what is happening as only ‘culturally inappropriate’ so as not to disrupt mass yoga marketing, leading us to ask surface-level questions like ‘I don’t want to be culturally inappropriate, so how can I show cultural appreciation appropriately?’ It’s not about appreciation versus appropriation. It’s about understanding the role of power and the legacies of imperialism.”
Shreena Gandhi, PhD, a religious studies professor at Michigan State University, and Lillie Wolff, an advocate with Crossroads Antiracism, emphasized in their 2017 article “Yoga and the Roots of Cultural Appropriation” that the goal of these conversations should not be for white practitioners to stop practicing yoga, but rather for them “to please take a moment to look outside of yourself and understand how the history of yoga practice in the United States is intimately linked to larger forces”—such as colonization, oppression, and the fact that a devotional practice that was free of cost for thousands of years is now being marketed and sold.
See also The Timeline and History of Yoga in America
As an Indian-American teacher, practitioner, and writer, I often ponder why this means so much to me and why I can’t offer simple bullet points for what makes something “appreciative” versus “appropriative” of yoga. I just know when I start to feel sick or hurt—like at a conference table when an administrator suggests that Eastern elements, such as bells used to train the mind to focus on the present (dhyana), will threaten the comfort of white American practitioners. Or when the young CEO of a new yoga organization asks me where she can get her 300-hour yoga certification done the fastest, missing that yoga is a lifelong process of balanced living. Or when I see social media celebrities and yoga advertisements promoting athletic, model-like bodies in sexy apparel, potentially encouraging more attachment to items and creating insecurities rather than relieving people of suffering. Or when I’m walking by a shop with my parents, only to see their confusion over why holy Hindu scriptures—which my father can read, being literate in Sanskrit—were printed on a hoodie and tossed into a sale pile.
“I think they don’t realize that these are not just designs. They are words that carry deep meaning for people,” my father says.
See also Sanskrit 101: 4 Reasons Why Studying This Ancient Language Is Worth Your Time
Ask these questions to deeper your understanding around cultural appropriation.
Questions to Ask about Cultural Appropriation 
His sentiments make me realize that many Western yoga companies and consumers are unaware of what they are branding and buying. And that’s what we need to change together, by asking deeper questions such as:
“Do I really understand the history of the yoga practice I’m so freely allowed to practice today that was once ridiculed and prohibited by colonists in India?”
“As I continue to learn, am I comfortable with the practices and purchases I’m choosing to make, or should I make some changes?”
“Does the practice I live promote peace and integrity for all?”
Educating ourselves, like the practice of yoga, can be seen as an evolutionary process. Start where you are. You may have already developed a lot of awareness that is becoming more finely tuned. And for some—Indian or not Indian, experienced yoga practitioners or not—this article is a first-time exposure to something you never realized.
See also The Wake-Up Call Yogis Need to Bring 'Real Yoga' Back Into Their Practice
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. 
About our author
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. Having grown up with Indian yoga philosophy, she rediscovered its profound value as a New York City public school teacher. For the past 15 years, she has practiced and shared the benefits of yoga across the globe. After studying yoga and mindfulness as self-regulation at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, she designs curriculum for science research and K–12 education. She is the author of Jars of Space, a new book of handwritten and illustrated yogic poetry. Learn more at @rinathepoet or rinadeshpande.com.
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remedialmassage · 5 years
Text
What's the Difference Between Cultural Appropriation and Cultural Appreciation?
A first-generation Indian-American yoga and mindfulness researcher and teacher reflects on what feels misrepresented and appropriative to her in modern yoga.
Unsure of the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation? Read on to find out. 
When I began contributing to yoga research five years ago, I was invited to a meeting to discuss how to bring yoga and mindfulness practices to university campuses as wellness initiatives. Thirteen out of 15 American administrators and researchers at the conference table happened to be white, the only exceptions being me and another Indian-American woman. The person in charge had thoughtfully invited both of us; though newer to research, we were experienced in yoga teachings because of our South Asian culture and decade-long practices. Entering the room was both moving and intimidating. On one hand, I was honored to share my cultural and personal understandings of yoga. On the other hand, I was one of only two nonwhite people in a group gathering to talk about a practice that originated in India.
Conscious of my identity, I used yogic principles to set aside my conditioned fears and preconceptions and opened my mind to discussing yoga—the practice of self-realization that has transformed my life.
See also The First Book of Yoga: The Enduring Influence of the Bhagavad Gita
I soon found myself in respectful conversation with everyone at the table: Yoga and mindfulness-based practices can provide what we call “healing” in Eastern tradition, and what we call psychological and physiological “benefits” in Western research. Although we used different words, we were saying similar things.
Until the middle of the meeting.
One of the administrators said, “We’ll need to create a set of guidelines to ensure absolutely no Eastern symbols, bells, or words are used in yoga classes. We can’t make anyone uncomfortable or offend them by suggesting spirituality.”
I don’t believe that Indian words or symbols are required for people to benefit from yoga, but this leader, who was in favor of creating an inclusive yoga experience “for all,” wanted to remove any sign of the land where the practice originated. She overlooked the fact that two yoga teachers with Indian heritage sitting right across from her were the ones left to nurse our exclusion and offense.
See also The Debate: Teach With English or Sanskrit Pose Names?
Invisible oppression is something many Indians have been forced to endure in quiet pain for centuries. Like when you learn about a popular yoga movement and book jarringly titled No Om Zone: A No-Chanting, No-Granola, No-Sanskrit Practical Guide to Yoga. The title itself normalizes ethnocentric views of yoga, India, and people who chant. The irony of a movement like this is that it renders fear of foreign words while allowing itself to brand and use the Indian practice of yoga, a Sanskrit word signifying “unity” or “yoke.”
Those without access to an in-depth history education might lighten this to a question of political correctness or cries by minorities for cultural recognition. But it goes so much deeper.
Yoga is an ancient spiritual practice of self-realization that originated in India, but, in addition to Indian devotional practices such as sacred dance, it was perceived as threatening, ridiculed, and banned among its own people in its own land under British colonization, beginning in the 1700s and lasting until the mid-1900s. Today, yoga is often marketed by affluent Westerners to affluent Westerners—and Indians, ironically, are marginally represented, if at all. While this multibillion-dollar industry is offering much-needed well-being to Western practitioners, it’s re-inflicting the same violation on India and Indians: invisibility and misrepresentation.
See also A Beginner's Guide to the History of Yoga
Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations.
What is Cultural Appropriation?
In recent years, conversation has begun around the “cultural appropriation” of yoga. Cultural appropriation is the taking, marketing, and exotification of cultural practices from historically oppressed populations. The problem is incredibly complex and involves two extremes: The first is the sterilization of yoga by removing evidence of its Eastern roots so that it doesn’t “offend” Westerner practitioners. The opposite extreme is the glamorization of yoga and India through commercialism, such as Om tattoos, T-shirts sporting Hindu deities or Sanskrit scriptures that are often conflated with yoga, or the choosing of Indian names.
Yoga teachers and students are starting to ask the questions, “What is the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation?” and “How can I still practice yoga without being offensive?”
See also Do You Really Know the True Meaning of Yoga?
According to Rumya S. Putcha, PhD, a scholar of postcolonial, critical race, and gender studies, we’re still asking the wrong questions. “The terminology ‘cultural appropriation,’ in and of itself, is a way of diluting the fact that we’re talking about racism and European colonialism,” she says. “It undermines what is happening as only ‘culturally inappropriate’ so as not to disrupt mass yoga marketing, leading us to ask surface-level questions like ‘I don’t want to be culturally inappropriate, so how can I show cultural appreciation appropriately?’ It’s not about appreciation versus appropriation. It’s about understanding the role of power and the legacies of imperialism.”
Shreena Gandhi, PhD, a religious studies professor at Michigan State University, and Lillie Wolff, an advocate with Crossroads Antiracism, emphasized in their 2017 article “Yoga and the Roots of Cultural Appropriation” that the goal of these conversations should not be for white practitioners to stop practicing yoga, but rather for them “to please take a moment to look outside of yourself and understand how the history of yoga practice in the United States is intimately linked to larger forces”—such as colonization, oppression, and the fact that a devotional practice that was free of cost for thousands of years is now being marketed and sold.
See also The Timeline and History of Yoga in America
As an Indian-American teacher, practitioner, and writer, I often ponder why this means so much to me and why I can’t offer simple bullet points for what makes something “appreciative” versus “appropriative” of yoga. I just know when I start to feel sick or hurt—like at a conference table when an administrator suggests that Eastern elements, such as bells used to train the mind to focus on the present (dhyana), will threaten the comfort of white American practitioners. Or when the young CEO of a new yoga organization asks me where she can get her 300-hour yoga certification done the fastest, missing that yoga is a lifelong process of balanced living. Or when I see social media celebrities and yoga advertisements promoting athletic, model-like bodies in sexy apparel, potentially encouraging more attachment to items and creating insecurities rather than relieving people of suffering. Or when I’m walking by a shop with my parents, only to see their confusion over why holy Hindu scriptures—which my father can read, being literate in Sanskrit—were printed on a hoodie and tossed into a sale pile.
“I think they don’t realize that these are not just designs. They are words that carry deep meaning for people,” my father says.
See also Sanskrit 101: 4 Reasons Why Studying This Ancient Language Is Worth Your Time
Ask these questions to deeper your understanding around cultural appropriation.
Questions to Ask about Cultural Appropriation 
His sentiments make me realize that many Western yoga companies and consumers are unaware of what they are branding and buying. And that’s what we need to change together, by asking deeper questions such as:
“Do I really understand the history of the yoga practice I’m so freely allowed to practice today that was once ridiculed and prohibited by colonists in India?”
“As I continue to learn, am I comfortable with the practices and purchases I’m choosing to make, or should I make some changes?”
“Does the practice I live promote peace and integrity for all?”
Educating ourselves, like the practice of yoga, can be seen as an evolutionary process. Start where you are. You may have already developed a lot of awareness that is becoming more finely tuned. And for some—Indian or not Indian, experienced yoga practitioners or not—this article is a first-time exposure to something you never realized.
See also The Wake-Up Call Yogis Need to Bring 'Real Yoga' Back Into Their Practice
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. 
About our author
Rina Deshpande is a teacher, writer, and researcher of yoga and mindfulness practices. Having grown up with Indian yoga philosophy, she rediscovered its profound value as a New York City public school teacher. For the past 15 years, she has practiced and shared the benefits of yoga across the globe. After studying yoga and mindfulness as self-regulation at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, she designs curriculum for science research and K–12 education. She is the author of Jars of Space, a new book of handwritten and illustrated yogic poetry. Learn more at @rinathepoet or rinadeshpande.com.
from Yoga Journal http://bit.ly/2GQHYf9
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