My dear mother:
I hope this letter finds you well.
Forgive me for not knowing how else to begin writing, especially something that is to be touched by your eyes. You must know the noises that start our phone calls are rarely broken connections, but our inability to be the way we were.
Last summer when I was at home we rarely spoke, although we talked and talked and talked—or rather you talked, I listened; and then you sat quietly as I tried to reciprocate the phrases. Somehow the greatest use of Aristotle and Foucault was that they were your favorite men and we can speak through them for hours, over cilantro-scented dinners, across swaying subway rides. But as you piled up the plates, I held our glass kitchen door with pursed lips. If knowledge brings light, then those dead letters shined like cold blue light of a suburban diner, washing back wordless friction till the doors are closed.
I had forgotten why you came into my room the morning of my flight, but you fell asleep quietly. Hours later I still couldn’t bring myself to wake you. Every night you’d scream for hours in your dreams: screams that moved between accusations and beseeching and howling and whimper, dreams that started before I left and came back and left again. That morning you breathed so softly in growing light. It was when I put the covers over your waist that I saw your flattened toes.
You used to sit on the edge of my bed, knifing translucent peels off the soles of your feet. I have wide peasants’ feet, you lament. Flat, fat, ugly, squarish from carrying in danzi through paddies fields, propping up weight that injured your neck for life. On lucky days there were prickly straw shoes. Mostly it’s bare skin gripping onto slipping mud. My feet are ruined by hard labor, you sigh, not like elegant Shanghainese ladies’ feet, slender, elegant, white and smooth, nursed by milk and maids.
Rubbing my soles, you’d tell me that I am not like you. I must pay attention to what you couldn’t. You say I must never lift heavy weight—leave textbooks at home and ask men to put up the luggage. You say I am not born into your hunger, casual wrinkles, shriveled spine and jeweless skin: you say to remember the luxury that was not yours. Use it play it and find a man unlike my father.
I thought about that when I had to walk on the grass to my friend boathouse while she laughed, moving across the path of broken seashell effortlessly. My friend, whom you and father called a “noble woman” and a “pure American”, sported thick calluses from roaming Cohasset wilderness barefoot, wearing heels to bar mitzvahs, climbing rocks leading up to a mansion she points out as “the OG Adams family estate”. Flattened square toes served her well.
Did you know that your wounds didn’t—couldn’t bleed on someone who was never hurt? Can’t you see the unscarred move through pain, elation, growth and death—without gathering rust? Do you know that in my veins aches still your running blood?
I am sorry I have disappointed you. I’m sorry about my rounded waist and unkept hair. I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce you to more white friends when you visit. But more than anything I’m sorry when I pulled the sheets over your frail frame I thought again and again: I cannot become a woman like you. I cannot be a woman like you.
I know this letter will never reach you. You shouldn’t read it anyways—roundabout sentences put together in another language is the only way I can write about you. To you, I still haven’t found a way of speaking. But here it is, this, because you are forgetting words, names, peoples and places. Before the page runs blank I want to say, somewhere to something, that I miss you, very much dearly.
Your daughter
 
Lecture:

In Chinese there is a word, 环肥燕瘦. It is one of those phrases grounded in historical reference. Huan refers to Yang Yuhuan, a woman famous for her ample figure. The next character fei means fat, describing Yang Yuhuan. Yan is short for Zhao Feiyan, another legendary beauty. She was so thin that it was said when she was dancing outside, people had to hold down her skirts so she fly away. As you can guess, shou means skinny, describing the second lady. Taken together, this phrase is taken to mean that different women, fat or thin, have their sorts of beauty.

From a purely sociological perspective, it can also be understood to say that differencing historical eras produce varying aesthetics. Embedded in the idea that opposing ideals of beauty exists is an acknowledgement that our most intimate tastes and desires is more a of a follower of shifting forms of society, rather manifestation of an eternal divine. Eclecticism must be historically informed and honest toward sentimentalities.

What is unchanging, however, is the entwined existence between the beautiful and the powerful. It is difficult to parse out the temporality in this pairing. Is something desired because is it on a pedestal, or does our submission to its charms endow it with power? I guess that’s why philosophers have opted to name the whole judgement aesthetics.

In contemporary United States, there seem to be two kinds of competing aesthetics. There’s the aesthetic of opulence, hip hop abundance, and ballroom realness. Contrapoints on Youtube dissected in an excellent video. On the other hand, there’s sweatpants and Patagonia, casual luxury. It is the aesthetics of loving your body, natural skin, “candid” Instagram posts with no filter.

Contrapoints explains this, following Paul Fussell’s book, as a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant modesty. Class teaches people to not flaunt their wealth. Yet I would say this is precisely how wealth is revealed in this society, where being on the margins means carrying generational trauma and inheriting the wounds of centuries. To be at home in one’s own skin means home not a place yet to be built.

To go back to the phrase. Even though aesthetic relativism is embedded in Chinese poetics, it is indisputable that women still require themselves to follow the standard of our times. Knowledge itself does not subvert power. It is then not a question of how but with what we construct a home to be comfortable in.

Notes:
In both writing the lecture and the letter, I find myself writing things irrelevant to the point I want to talk about, as if insisting to give my more humanity by providing more context. It is easier to allow myself to do that with the letter because it is addressed to someone, but it was almost impossible to begin the lecture without an imagined audience. I thought, after reading Ruskin’s letter, that the letter would lend more confidence to be didactive, but the intimate recipient of my letter only compounded the resistance to be directly critical.

The space of an open letter versus the space of a lecture.

The tones of the two products are entirely different, but I am unsure if it has to do as much with the writing as it does with he reading. Clearly, the tone of the writing has to shift, as no longer is the author addressing just one intimate person but a large range of people. When lecturing, or writing, someone has something to say. In effective communication, it is essential to know how to say what you need to say in a way that it will be perceived and heard correctly by the people you need to say it to. I want to examine the different ways this occurs in the space of an open letter versus in the space of a lecture.

In an open letter, the dialogue is between one person and another, while others get to look in. Because the dialogue is intimate, the tone of the writer will be different. It will be laced with all the emotion and memory of the relationship between author and receiver. The reader, the open audience, will perceive this from an outsiders perspective, and thus maybe it will be more impactful to them. To perceive the emotion without having it directed to them. Then, they can process it more happily, they have an escape because it is not about them, but it is relevant and moving to them.

In a lecture, on the other hand, the speaker is dealing with a range of emotions and people and relationships, from student to stranger to peer to mentor. The speaker needs to withhold certain emotion that is directed towards these people, because when people feel attacked they will shut down. People don’t want to listen when they feel like they need to defend themselves. Rather, the speaker must be tactful so as not to enact these systems of defense within their audience.

But ultimately, all of this is about being wary of the reader’s emotions. Were one not want to allow the reader the comfort of guiltlessness or being removed or not being spared, what medium would they use? How would they trouble that space of an open letter or of a lecture in a way that is effective?

I found Baldwin’s letter to his nephew to be the most powerful of the pieces we read. I got pretty emotional reading it. It seemed, to me, to express most of the same things his letter to teachers did, but they felt more poignant in the context of writing to his nephew, a young black man. I do think he spells out certain points, like how white people can be “innocent” and “ignorant,” more explicitly and thoroughly in the letter to educators. It definitely helped my reading of the letter to his nephew to read the letter to teachers before. In both letters, he describes the way white people easily forget that black people exist as equally complex human beings. The letter to his nephew exemplified the existence (which feels like a terrible word to use here) of black people. Baldwin talked about the universally human experience of loving someone, and raising them, and seeing their relatives  in them and watching them grow. And throughout the letter, we could feel the love he has for his nephew. This felt like an important emotional reminder that the lives of those written out of history are equally as emotionally deep. Baldwin, unlike past writers who have attempted to open up the stories of those silenced by history, was able to explicitly discuss his experience because it was his own — he did not need to fear misrepresenting himself. Given this, in the letter to his nephew, he did not have to waste time or emotional effort making accomodations for white readers. I, as a white reader, found this really powerful. He noted how “innocents” would think he was exaggerating, but continued knowing that his nephew, having actually experienced the life of a black man, would not need convincing of its conditions. This being said, I found Baldwin’s tone throughout both letters more poignant. At times, it felt like Ruskin’s tone was too formal, making it feel less sincere than Baldwin’s more conversational tone was. I think this conversational sincerity permeated both of Baldwin’s letters, which made them feel more emotionally gripping and powerful to me. 

Dear Dr. Krogh,

Over the last several decades, your contributions to Eastern European scholarly literature, particularly with regard to Hungary, have been greatly impactful. Both inside and outside of the historical discipline, you have deepened our understanding of a variety of social phenomenon, repeatedly pushed back on conventional wisdom, and brought forward new archives that have shed light on your research and that of researchers who have followed in your tracks. Your last book deserved all of the critical acclaim it received. It is for these reasons that your recent suspension from travel to Hungary is most unfortunate.

The travel ban has made it clear that Hungary’s constitution can no longer protect you or any freedom of speech under Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s government. When you signed the Academic Alliance for Hungary’s petition last month, it publicized your position in opposition of Orbán, and sealed your fate on the travel ban. Orbán’s efforts to silence criticism and his inclination towards self-preservation is scarily reminiscent of a time in Hungary’s recent history that we know you are very familiar with.

The cost of the ban on your research is not measurable. For the sake of the future Hungarian scholarship, we encourage you to spread your story so that other academics in similar positions may consider the consequences of signing political petitions. If there is anything that we can do to aid you in your future endeavors, please do not hesitate to reach out.

Sincerely,

“The Academy”

Lecture to Scholars of Easter Europe

Globalization has widened the scope of our research, but also has brought some unexpected consequences to academics in our field. Some of you may have heard of the recent travel ban Prime Minister Viktor Orbán instated against anyone who publicly signed the Academic Alliance for Hungary petition last month. The ban affected several of your colleagues including Dr. Krogh.

What is happening in Hungary, and has been the trend globally, is not something our field should take lightly – I know this is not the case for any of you. However, I urge you all to consider the value of your research when making decisions about how you choose to engage with the contemporary political situation. Your work has the potential to be incredible impactful, and the cost of being barred from a country where you do research may not be worth your signature on a petition. Ultimately, this is a personal choice you must make.

Process notes: In these two pieces, I was trying to get at the phenomena of academics hesitating to vocalize their political opinions for fear of being banned from doing research in the areas they focus on. I do not believe in the positions represented, but I thought using a critical tone would better get the point across. Switching from a letter to a lecture forced me to make the content more broad because it was addressed to a wider audience and also changed the message. Also, everything, aside from Viktor Orbán, is not true.

The works by Ruskin this week were really interesting to me. I first read the lecture about clouds and I was immediately struck by the tone it was written in. I had not realized how personal a lecture could be. Despite having this personal tone, he manages to write a lecture with a more than clear message. I was especially struck by the way he used anecdotal evidence to compound statements made after repeated observations. This balance makes a lecture about clouds an actually fun read. 

The second Ruskin work was the open letter ‘Fors Clavigera.’ This piece had a personal feel as well but was much more intimate than the first. In saying that I mean, the letter felt more like a conversation, rather than a friendly explanation. This conversational feel is brought on by a couple of aspects of the letter. The first thing I noticed was how little Ruskin explains the points he is trying to make or the references that he makes. The reader is expected to know these things as shared knowledge with the author. This is very different from the way he writes the lecture, explaining every little point he brings up and a footnote for each reference made. The second aspect that makes the letter feel more intimate are the frequent tangents he goes on, sometimes only using a seemingly unrelated point to justify a point he is making. These tangents feel like thoughts that may have been had as someone was daydreaming and gazing out a window. This intimate conversational tone allows for more emotional expression and a greater connection with the reader, while sometimes leaving the reader wanting more, which is not always a bad thing. 

Letter:

To Pigs, 

I remember driving behind you on my way to soccer games growing up. Your little wet snout stuck out of the oval hole in the multi-level semi trailer. You were loud and the fumes you guys gave off smelled pretty bad. Sometimes we could only hear you if it was too cold. But if it was hot, then almost every one of the hundreds of oval cut outs had an oinker sticking out. Lately, it’s been getting hotter it seems. I’ve always liked you guys. I remember wondering why you guys were always  in such a hurry. My mom would always point you out, drawing my attention from whatever else was outside the window. She always liked you, too. She did in fact grow up raising friends of yours. Come to think of it, it’s kind of funny. For how often we road the same roads, my mother never told me where you all were headed. Well I guess I’m too old to be living in denial any longer.

I couldn’t care less about the amount of calories I eat or the health benefits of going meatless. However, I could care a lot less about the health of the planet. Thus, I try to eat as little meat as possible, but Trader Joe’s Orange Chicken really is good. Plus, it’s only like five dollars for an entire bag. No, it’s not like I’m eating orange chicken out of a plastic bag. It’s frozen and takes just eight minutes to cook. It’s especially good if you make some of that ninety-second jasmine rice from Target. There’s usually enough for two people, but tonight there will be no leftovers. But when you’re eating something as tasty as this, there’s never any leftovers.. There’s never any leftovers… 

Okay, no more beating around the bush, I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry your destiny was determined at birth. I’m sorry that you are smarter than my dog, but only see the sun when you are headed to the gallows. I’m sorry that the misery you endure is only advancing the inevitable. 

An aspiring vegan. 

[A lecture on the price of meat]

You should not stop eating McDonald’s, or animal products in general, if you are trying to be healthier. Unless of course your concern is for the health of others. 

Despite what the label might say, your hot dog was not “organically grass fed” or “humanely raised.” Chuck1 was. He was the cow who was turned into your hot dog. Before he was blended into his now cylindric form, Chuck was walked away from the pen he had lived most of his life in. There he had become accustomed to grain coming thrice a day, blood tests, antibiotics, tubes connecting massaging and extracting from his undercarriage (no, he did not have utters), etc. He was walked along a roofed ramp, specially designed so he could only see the cow in front of him. No need for a stampede. 

After about an hour, his half-mile walk was finally over. He was led into a dark room where he was finally alone for the first time in his life. The silence was almost unnerving until he felt cold metal pressed against his forehead. That was the final memory Chuck had. He lived just long enough to be hung upside down by chains so that a ranch hand could open his neck from ear to ear. They say he died painlessly, but how did he live?

This story is not unlike countless others, across states and species. In a time seemingly filled with cruelty, what are we gaining from all of these lives lost? Well, we gain one calorie of edible meat produced by livestock, for roughly every ten calories of feed they are forced to consume. We gain the realization that over half of the land used for agriculture in the US is used for livestock, and even more is used to feed those animals. We gain a week’s worth of meat for the same amount of water needed to produce a year’s worth of bread. Commercial farming is a cruel circus which tortures its performers while it slowly kills the blissfully ignorant audience. Even I can admit it is difficult to give up McDonald’s, but I promise veggie burgers are not all that bad. 

1: sub-prime cut of beef 

Process Notes: 

This week I tried my best to have a more pointed focus to my writing. One other than simply “climate change.” The idea for the letter came to me when I was eating orange chicken while trying to write the responses to the readings this week. I realized what a hypocrite I was being by talking about the climate so often while at the same time perpetuating one of the leading causes of greenhouse gas emissions– commercial farming. This left me with a weird feeling that I tried to convey in the letter while also trying to make it clear that the real focus was on climate change/farming. 

My goal for the lecture was to try to give someone another reason to maybe try going vegetarian, other than just climate change. It is much easier for people to picture a living animal than a changing climate and if an emotional response can be brought out, the reader is all the more likely to try vegetarianism, ultimately helping the planet. 

In reading Ruskin’s lecture, I noticed that he largely utilizes time-stamped observations of storm clouds (5-6), historical references to prophecy (8), and facts about scientific research methods, such as the use of an anemometer and sun-measurements (7-8), to back his claims and form a cohesive argument. Although, as voiced by several other classmates, I found myself rather bored by his droning on of such topics by the end of the piece, I felt fulfilled by the conclusion in that I had grasped a full understanding of his argument. On the other hand, his letter felt more so like a bit of a larger conversation rather than a wholly outlined argument with directly presented ultimate demands/plans of action. I found his tone to be more conversational rather than academic in his letter through instances such as the one Allison noted “That last sentence is wonderfully awkward English, not to say ungrammatical; but I must write such English as may come today” (323), alongside his admittance to not knowing the scientific background behind some of what he discussed, such as the reason “why large mountains should break into large pebbles” (325). In both quotes, it is clear that he is writing more so in a stream of consciousness rather than from an outlined argument with prior outside research conducted to further support his points, as he did in the lecture. Further, I found his assertion on page 323 that he will not explain what needs to be done nor does he require his audience to act on his words yet given that he does not believe them to understand his principles at the present time. This quotation and his scattered open-ended questions throughout the letter demonstrate to me that discussing social change can be especially impactful when presented in a conversational format that takes into consideration the importance of one’s audience expressing their understanding before moving forward with plan-making and being able to potentially respond to the presented questions before they are answered by their presenter. I also found Ruskin’s reference to daily occurrences and interruptions in his letter writing such as the frequent, distracting whistling of the train to further his argument in providing context as to how the issue of industrialization deeply impacts everyday life, even as he writes.

In Baldwin’s letter, he draws on shared ancestry and personal affection to emphasize the importance of his argument to his nephew while in his lecture he emphasizes the values in education that are important to his audience to do so. Interestingly, I noticed how he differently expressed the same sentiment in his two pieces in a way which I believe outlines how he thinks his two different audiences can best “know whence you came,” which he deems important given “if you know whence you came, there is really no limit to where you can go” (8). In the letter, he says that his “countrymen” will say that he “exaggerates” (8) the instances of oppression he is identifying and that his nephew must trust his personal experience and not such words of others to understand his position in this framework. On the other hand, in the lecture he states “if you think I am exaggerating, examine the myths which proliferate in this country about Negroes” (679), which calls on educators to learn about the experiences of others and is presented in a much less ridiculing tone and without the immediate assumption of neglect so that it will be more readily received by his audience of educators.

One thing I noticed in Baldwin’s letter to his nephew is that it strikes a desperate tone: there is nothing else to do except to hold on to their own perception of reality. The burden of proof is not on validating the Negro experience in America; Baldwin and his nephew already know that these feelings are valid. Rather, it is on those who are unaware of those conditions. “They are, in effect, still trapped in a history they do not understand; and until they understand it, they cannot be released from it,” This allows Baldwin to emphasize further how much things need to change, and that it cannot be done just from his work. It is also important to realize that Baldwin is speaking to all African Americans in this letter, which then justifies the tone he takes, as well as giving a peek to others what the experience is truly like. This same sentiment is shown in his Talk to Teachers, except now Baldwin is attempting to do the work that he said needed to be done for society: he is trying to educate them. It is not an explicitly desperate tone but rather a call to action. He is trying to teach teachers the truth about their society so that they could spread that knowledge to all children. The importance of education is emphasized, as teachers have to perpetrate the “aims of society”. He even gives an immediate example of what can happen if you don’t teach with the intention of questioning the society you live in: you can reach a situation akin to Nazi Germany. Baldwin highlights the fact that to address a different audience, the rhetorical tools that are effective look very different, even with the same topic in mind (even if it is a big one): how to improve society for African Americans.