Dignity and Social Class

      Dignity is defined as the state or quality of being worthy of honor or respect. It is a principle that forms the underpinnings of the idea of class inequality. Joe Chuman's talk on the essence of dignity offers a philosophical look at the value itself. Chuman cites examples of what he calls "violations of human dignity," such as the massive loss of life in religious conflicts in the Middle East or the degradation of living conditions that occurs with economic deprivation, and argues that in order to understand the true scale of these issues, one must first understand what dignity is, and what it means to violate it. 

      Chuman, in the course of this discussion, addresses the issue of social class as it pertains to dignity, claiming that it is only through our subconscious understanding of dignity that social classes can exist. These classes are ordered hierarchically, with clear distinctions in perceived societal worth. As Chuman demonstrates, the idea of 'worth' with regards to human beings is inherent in the very definition of dignity. To have dignity is to have worth, to be a valued member of the human species. This is in direct contrast to the stark reality of hierarchical social structure, the idea that some human beings are worth more than others. 

      This conflict between the concept of dignity as a basic human trait, and the simple fact that social class exists, Chuman argues, is a direct by-product of society's refusal to recognize consciously the fact that all human beings have dignity. To prove this, Chuman uses seemingly obvious yet telling examples such as racism, religious discrimination, and extreme poverty. Each of these issues clearly demonstrates the dependance of class structures on the conscious refusal by dominant classes to recognize the humanity, and the dignity, of lower classes.  

      Chuman argues that to truly alleviate or end this type of inter-class conflict, society must begin, on the individual level, to consciously recognize the dignity of all human beings, regardless of their class affiliation. To do so would subvert the basic principle upon which social class is built. In order to create this hierarchical structure, Chuman argues, there must be some determinant for worth. Whether that determinant is economic, racial, or otherwise, it is maintained as a variable. According to this model, an individual's worth can be graded or valued as as being below or above any other individual's worth to society, based upon this determinant. These individuals, and the classes that they belong to, are thereby placed above or below other classes in a structure that affords respect to those on top, but very little to those on the bottom. 

      It is to render this determinant irrelevant, Chuman argues, that we must understand and recognize the dignity inherent in every human being. By doing so, we expose the fault inherent in assigning worth based upon class structures, and rediscover the basic humanity within individuals of classes other than our own. 

      

Practicing Utopia

            On February 26, I attended a women’s conference called Practicing Utopia: Feminism and Activism in Institutional Contexts held by the Columbia Institute for Research on Women, Gender, and Sexuality. At the conference, professional women discussed their ideas on what a feminist utopian society would look like, and how they act to achieve it. The speaker who interested me the most was Jean Howard. She is a George Delacorte Professor in the Humanities at Columbia University, and her talk focused on how she works within her community at Columbia to reach her own idea of utopia. She began by mentioning Thomas More’s novel Utopia. His society is riddled with vast income inequality, justice for the rich, enclosures to drive off the poor, and general greed and corruption. Howard argued that this is not the sort of utopia modern society should look to create. Although she did not directly define utopia, she said that the idea of utopia is an invitation to thought and then action. It begins with an idea and from there must become something tangible. The ability to make an abstract thought, like gender equality, concrete is in itself utopia; being able to create change where it is needed is a paradisaical notion. She mentioned how in her own life, it is difficult to be intentionally involved in transformative politics as a result of the bindings that come with her place at the university. Yet, Howard said that it is simple to unintentionally make a change. For example, she may be unable to directly speak out against Columbia’s policies but she can skip meetings or events in protest, as even small steps like this recalibrate the power structure within an institution. In her everyday life she works toward finding a feminist utopia where a woman need not fear her gender will inhibit her career, such as a pregnancy announcement harming her chances of earning fellowships. Howard focused on the ideas that incremental change leads to radical change and that this change must be collectively made as opposed to handed down from a single person.

            The speech reflected on the idea that the formation of greater equality will not be achieved in grand leaps, as we have seen in works we have read this semester. Looking from John Dos Passos’ Manhattan Transfer to Thomas Pynchon’s The Crying of Lot 49, progress can be seen. In Manhattan Transfer female characters such as Ellie felt trapped by their gender as it limited the power they had over their lives. Dos Passos understood the struggles of women, so his novel reflected society’s mistreatment of them in the 1920s. Thus, his characters were complex women still entrapped by their time period and position in society. In The Crying of Lot 49, women are still not equal to men, but Oedipa is uncovering the conspiracy on her own accord and with her own intelligence; she is the driving force behind the plot and she is more respected than the women in Manhattan Transfer. Yet, Oedipa is still an oversexualized character who needs the help of several men and in the end cannot handle the pressure and breaks. Pynchon creates a helpless female in order to reflect the way women were portrayed in his 1960s world, while at the same time showing a woman’s need to escape this archetype. So, while progress is made, it is made slower than the ideal.

            The event taught me about the collective work needed to create even these small changes. It is easy to get frustrated by the seeming lack of progress made in modern society, but ­­Howard’s talk helped me see the importance of small happenings and recognize the triumph in them. Now, within the course, I can see that a character as flawed as Oedipa can still be a step forward. Also, I can recognize that this progress has been achieved through the joint effort of many; whether they be outright activists or simply regular members of society who recognize its problems. For example, the feminist movement which surrounded the events of The Crying of Lot 49 was the shared effort of thousands of women and allies, and would have contributed to Pynchon’s understanding of what a woman is capable of and how she can function in a man’s role. When passionate people work together to enact positive change, utopia gets just a little bit closer.

The Last Column

 In the massive space of Foundation Hall in the 911 Memorial Museum stands the final, thirty-six foot column of the World Trade Center. The Column is covered head to toe in the most colorful, thoughtful mementos, memorial inscriptions, and missing posters. In bright red/orange and yellow letters reads “FDNY 343”, “E214” and “L111” in memory of the 343 Firefighters belonging to different ladders and engines all over NYC that lost their lives. In blue reads “PAPD 37” and “NYPD 23” for the 37 Port Authority Officers of New Jersey and 23 Police Officers from different precincts of New York that passed away on this day too. In addition, countless names of the innocent people that passed away are written in bold sharpie or craved into the column. Badges hang high in a room filled with colorless space where this column stands as the main focus, standing tall, beautifully decorated with meaningful inscriptions from loved ones and millions of Americans whom will never forget this day. The inscriptions are evidence of a difference within the people of New York; all belonging to different socioeconomic classes; the rich, the middle class and the poor,  were all effected by this major tragedy. The heroes were those belonging to the middle class, holding the blue collar positions in the work front. These uniformed city workers that perform countless hours of manual labor daily were working closely in and out of the rubble and deathly conditions. President at the Time, George W. Bush, and Mayor of New York, Rudolph Giuliani stayed in close contact with their people to provide protection and confidence that the situation was under control. This was truly a time where everyone rich or poor set aside their negative generalized assumptions of one another and their pride to unite as citizens of New York State. Maria Peralta, employee of Jane Kahan Gallery on the East Side during the time of 911 said, “Walking down the street even weeks after this horrible incident, people would be stopped at a street light and just say “Hey, how are you doing?”  The communities – everyone was so united.”

In the 911 Memorial the Last Column is described to “… encourage reflection on the foundations of resilience, hope, and community with which we might build our  collective future.” (911memorial.org)  In other words it is used to inspire community and unity. The museum was created to honor the lives of the 3,000 people killed in the terrorists attack of September 11th, 2001 and to educate all those that visit of the terrible incident New York and America was able to surpass. 

In connection to themes related to Class and American Culture, this event and exhibit embodies communication and rationality, some ideas that characters in The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon or The Bell Jar By Sylvia Plath do not. Not only was this a time to set aside the prejudgement and the need to conform to societal expectations but especially to communicate with one another, which shows that if done correctly the community can have a strong impact. In this time of crisis their was not a concern for the prior social divide that existed between the economic classes. The country as a whole became concerned for their safety, therefore everyone was willing to work harder to see results. 

Class in the Classroom

In today’s age of standardized testing and increasingly privatized education, the current education system is leaving urban, impoverished schools in the dust. Speaking at the Schomburg Center in Harlem for the launch of his new book, “For While Folks Who Teach in the Hood.. and the Rest of Y’all Too,” Christopher Emdin spoke to a room of educators, calling for them to rethink traditional schooling.

While the title of his book may appear somewhat aggressive to some, Emdin said the title is geared towards teachers from a higher social class who enter urban schools with a “savior mentality” towards their job. These teachers, armed with Common Core curriculums and Teach For America education, the teachers walk in to classrooms expecting them to function like the ones they attended. What they fail to recognize is that the socioeconomic divide between the suburbs and poor urban areas creates a cultural divide. As Emdin said, “After Brown v. Board of Ed, we integrated the schools, but we never integrated the curriculum.” Furthermore, teachers entering this new environment go on to place blame on the students themselves, creating a hostile, even traumatic setting that children must return to every day, according to Emdin.

The prevalence of this broken education system is evident in the fact that while 70% of New York City public school students are of color, a whopping 80% of teachers are white. Although being white certainly does not necessitate being disconnected, most white teachers are and are not connected to their students. As teachers obstinately stick to their curriculums verbatim, they do not personalize their teaching methods and adapt them to the needs of the students as Emdin calls for.

Emdin gave a historical perspective to the current education crisis, comparing urban schools to the Carlisle School, which was ostensibly for the education of Native Americans. However, the schools were actually focused on assimilating natives. Emdin projected before-and-after pictures from the Carlisle School. Those who attended the school looked radically different from when they first entered, with their traditional clothing replaced with new suits and dresses. Mr. Emdin then labeled modern urban education as “neo-indigenous,” focused more on assimilation into whiter, upper-class culture than on actual education and students’ needs. He exemplified this with a hypothetical question: “How many times have you seen a teacher say to a student, ‘Pull up your pants’ before asking ‘How was your day?’”

So what can be done to close this cultural chasm ripped open by a socioeconomic gap? Emdin strongly encouraged teachers to get creative with their teaching plans and adapt to the classroom that they teach in. One example is a system that Emdin himself created, called Hip Hop Ed. Students work together to write songs about the material they learn, and perform their work at an annual competition. He also encourages white teachers to acknowledge their “whiteness” and to learn to adapt. Emdin criticized teachers who work in schools they wouldn’t even send their own children to in areas they wouldn’t live in themselves.

Teachers cannot go on isolating themselves from the students they teach and cannot force their systems on them. Modern education needs to change to fit the needs of students and prioritize their education and understanding of material. Only by changing the fundamental aspects of today’s teaching models can this education gap be fixed. 

Matthew Dear x The Swimmer

Sporting a tutu and a pair of rollerskates, Jeffrey tumbled out of Verboten and into the Brooklyn sun just past 7am. “Look at those fucking assholes,” he whispered motioning to the friends I came with. “We’re here for the music,” I told him, which apparently wasn’t good enough. As he skated away, he screamed “ Well, the music’s not here for you.” This was Brooklyn in a nutshell, a mix of brain fried young people blowing off steam, over wired semi-adults, and international techno heads that came to New York to burn it down. We had just seen Matthew Dear and Delano Smith deejay at SUBVERSION, Dear’s monthly residency at Verboten. My head was still throbbing, there were no cabs in sight, and I still couldn’t figure out how I was the asshole. 

The previous Thursday, Verboten was seized by the New York State Department of Taxation and Finance for tax evasion amidst rumors of sexual and racial harassment behind the scenes. The club didn’t release a statement and all their social media went dark. That is, until Friday evening, when they instagrammed a video of a disco ball shining over an empty dancefloor, with a caption reading “The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated - Mark Twain.” As one commenter put it, “@bkrav @hankinit @sea2292 battle stations!!!!” 

I had been ready to go to Flash Factory to see David Morales DJ his legendary Better Days party, but Verboten had too much going for it. I arrived at 1230, a respectable time for this sort of thing, but as it turns out the club was already packed. The lights seemed to shine brighter than before, the wall projections trippier, and of course, the music sounded better. Everything about the night felt earned, as if we collectively overcame a great evil, and in a way, we all had. Verboten was something of an institution, and it was all thanks to the loyal patrons. Even though no one helped Verboten file their taxes, it was the weirdos and diehards that forced it to keep going. Verboten was home for people that loved music, dancing, and being really, really intoxicated. It had the cool, underground atmosphere that made New York’s golden years, whether it be the Roaring 20’s or the Sleazy 70’s. This is why people came to New York. 

At this point I had already noticed a middle aged rollerskating ballet dancer, but also noticed a number of well dressed folk who weren’t doing much. They bounced to the beat, they had a drink in their hand and maybe they were on drugs, but they weren’t doing really anything. They didn’t look engaged, they didn’t look like they were having fun, they didn’t even look like they were there. Then in a span of two minutes, I saw enough to convince me they truly weren’t present. As a number of small drug deals took place, I saw three separate groups take the exact same photograph in the exact same spot, then all quietly sit. It would’ve been more than three had a fight not broken out. A woman had spilled champagne on some guys sneakers. They hadn’t come to groove till breakfast, they’d come to be seen, to be cool, for bragging rights, and of course, drugs. This could’ve been anywhere and it wouldn’t have made a difference. They simply did not care. 

From this I learned that anyone can be consumed by anything in their own different way. The regulars were sucked into Verboten by music, community and love. This was their playground, a place they could be themselves. To them, real Balmain won’t help you dance better any more than fake will. Others however, were swallowed whole by their lifestyle. While the weirdos danced like no one was watching, this crowd danced as if everyone was. Like Neddy Merrill in Cheever’s The Swimmer, they dove into whichever pool of hedonism they can, rising only to plunge into another one. Like Merrill, one day they’ll wake up, and find everything around them to be alone, decaying and dead, just like they will be. Lucky for me, much later, I realized I wasn’t an asshole. I just looked like one.

NYC Feminist Zinefest 2016

Dozens of ziners featured their personal zines at the NYC Feminist ZineFest,
 held at Barnard College this past February.

            Despite the brisk, wintry air of February 28th successfully infiltrating the streets of New York, it failed to extinguish the warmth emanating from inside Barnard College. Occurring on the third floor was the fourth-annual NYC Feminist ZineFest, where over fifty tables featuring individualized booklets were on display for the public. For those of you who aren't familiar with the term 'zine', they resemble comics; short for magazine or fanzine, zines are self-publications motivated by self-expression rather than profit. Many of the zines exhibited touched serious topics, ranging from personal stories of an author's past to the larger issues that plague our world today. "The event is really representative of intersectional feminism," said Jenna Freedman, the Zine Librarian at Barnard College (which holds over 7,000 zines!) and also one of the five organizers for this event. "Three times the amount of tables we have here today applied to the event, but sadly we can't fit them all," Freedman remarked on deciding who gets their own exclusive table at the event. "We research the applicants extensively, deciding on who would bring an interesting collection to the event. It's hard." As I toured the tables, Freedman's words echoed in my head, and I saw the individuality of every author represented in their works. I made sure to pick up a couple of zines myself, astonished at how blunt and personal they were. Powerful messages and images can be found on every page of these zines, packing heavy ideas within such tiny pamphlets. 

Three zines that  I purchased at the Fest; Preta, 
Sticks & Stones, and Suburban Blight

            Despite the name, the Zinefest did not only focus on feminist ideologies; many of the zines that struck me hit upon the social justice movements that we see daily. Suburban Blight, a zine penned by 'Steph', embraces that we are living in the midst of one of the most potent social movements of our generation, Black Lives Matter. Side-by-side this headlining movement are feminists protesting the rape culture that is infecting society, as well as teachers striking for their own entitlements. Immediately upon going through the pages of this zine and others did I find connections to the themes and works that we've delved into in the classroom. The course illuminates how all of movements —racial- or gender-based, social or political — are not new; rather, they are merely evolutions of past ideologies. In Native Son, we see the racism exuding from the pages both before and after Bigger is convicted for Mary's death. Today, the most influential movement that is taking the country by storm is Black Lives Matter. Countless examples of racial prejudice is fueling this ongoing fire, leaving us to wonder where it will lead in the near future. In The Crying of Lot 49, we see Oedipa not taken seriously and trapped in the traditional gender role of a housewife, as she is a woman in a men's world. Feminists today are taking a stand against the focal point of female oppression today: rape culture. These societal problems have existed for ages, and we are seeing modern versions of them every day, everywhere.

             While the class itself has displayed that the social movements of today are by no means new, the zines reflect their own impact in conjunction with the course itself. Our focus is to achieve a more solid understanding of how social class is represented and its intersection with different issues, something found in the hundreds of zines that were displayed at the Zinefest. Bits and pieces of this central idea are symbolized throughout the zines, with each authors' personal spin on the topic. The Zinefest takes what we are learning in the classroom out into the open, such that the public eye can get a glimpse into the people behind the movements. This event is held all over the world in other major cities and areas, meaning that millions of similar zines are constantly being circulated around with unique, empowering stories and outlooks. We sit in the classroom, studying; the zines are out there, teaching. The NYC Feminist ZineFest provided a glimpse of these stories and their individualities, and I highly recommend getting your hands on one of these magnificent manuscripts, and fast. 

The back cover of Suburban Blight

For more information on this event, visit feministzinefestnyc.wordpress.com

The Humans - Class in 21st Century America

            Perhaps the most critically acclaimed play of the current Broadway season has been Stephen Karam’s The Humans. While typical Broadway blockbusters tend to be lavish musical spectacles such as Les Miserables or Wicked, or even adaptations of already beloved properties such as Andrew Lloyd Webber’s School of Rock, Karam’s play is almost the direct antithesis of all of these: a straight family drama played out in real time. The play is, as many great works of drama are, simultaneous poignant and humorous, tackling such expected themes as family love and the uncertainties of growing older. However, one theme that pervades throughout nearly the whole ninety minutes of the Humans’ run time is that of social class.

            The Blakes, a shining example of the quintessential Irish American working class family, consist of the senior citizen aged Erik and Deirdre, and their two daughters Aimee and Brigid, the latter of which they’ve traveled from their suburban Scranton home to join for a gathering that doubles as an apartment warming as well as Thanksgiving dinner. After the play introduces us to the characters and sets up its familial themes and motifs, it is very easy to begin making connections to the different works we’ve read in Class in American Culture.

One immediate parallel that I drew from one of our class readings was the idea of the conditions around us determining out fate, as we found in our modernist readings such as Richard Wright’s Native Son. While in the plight of Bigger Thomas is a result of his being a black man in a white dominated society, the condition being explored by the characters in Karam’s play is class itself, with his characters distinctly embodying our contemporary ideas of a typical middle class family. Immediately after the initial greetings and exchanging of holiday salutations, it is clear that Erik and Deirdre, the father and mother characters, are in less than ideal situations. Instead of enjoying retirement, they are both continuing to work venial jobs bosses who are younger than them, yet make more money all the same. Their daughter Aimee, the only member of the family who appears at first glance to be the most traditionally successful, reveals that she is being laid off from the law firm she works at due to her having to take time off to seek treatment for a medical condition. Finally, the youngest daughter, Brigid, finds herself in a rut from which she can’t get out as a frustrated would-be composer, and instead has to make do with tending bar for the time being.

The through line in all of their stories is one that is made clear again and again as the play progresses: In a post 9/11 America where the world no can longer delude itself into believing in the American utopia of the baby boomer generation, it is often the middle class who find themselves left behind and unable to forge their own way. In the context of an election season where so much rhetoric has been dedicated to exposing the disappearing and fractured state of the American middle class, this play explores the factors that contribute to such a phenomenon. Despite trying to do honest work and advance themselves so that each generation might be able to become more successful then the next, these characters constantly find themselves confronted with factors such as a hurting economy and the fears and paranoia of terrorism that constantly hold them back and resign them to a perpetual fate of trying to get ahead, but finding themselves stuck in the same place. The studying of a course such as Class and American Culture is significant in helping us understand this play because analyzing the different discussions of class in certain historic and literary contexts is essential to engaging in the different conversations about our modern society as presented through different mediums, whether they be plays or otherwise.