Inferno of Intolerance

During my first semester here at Penn State University, two of my dearest friends suggested we go out to grab drinks at a local bar. We were all first semester, international graduate students and did not yet have our state IDs. The only form of identification we carried were our passports.

If you've ever walked down College Avenue, you know you can probably count on one hand the places that look exciting at first glance. Inferno is one from that handful. We had no prior knowledge about any of the restaurants/bars in the area, so the cozy outdoor lounge seating and the general ambience of this beautiful restaurant was enough to convince us to start our night there. Upon reaching the front door of Inferno, the bouncer first asked me for my ID (I was in front). I gave him my passport, which was valid for another 5 years and evidence that I was several years over the minimum drinking age. He proceeded to flip through it beyond the usual required search for my date of birth, as though to be searching for additional information. Noticing this, I asked him if something was wrong. He replied, "Where is your US visa?" My friends and I were thrown for a loop by this question and so asked why he needed to see my visa. He then casually went on to attempt to justify why he needed to see my visa before I entered the restaurant and bar.

Here's a completely unnecessary backstory for you:

My passport had been recently renewed. This meant that my US visa was stamped in my old passport, which I didn't bring out with me that night (because I didn't think bouncers doubled as immigration officers). Even if I had that passport on me, however, he would see that it is not a valid visa. It was valid when I entered the US but I entered the US years ago for a previous degree so my visa had since expired. I hadn't left the country in that time so I had no need (nor legal requirement) to renew it. My legal status is based on my I-20 (a contract with my educational institution) and not my visa. So not only is my visa non of his business but its expiration has no bearing on whether or not I can legally remain in the US.

I hope the question that you are asking at this point is, "why does your legal status even matter?" It doesn't! I'm trying to enter a bar, not cross the US border; and he's a bouncer, not border patrol.

My girlfriends and I tried to explain my situation and assuage the bouncer's legal concerns as best as we could but the bouncer said he was sorry and that "rules were rules." Of course I was furious, as were my girlfriends so we decided to walk away and find a bar that wouldn't ask about our immigration status (shout out to Zeno's, The Rathskellar, and Fuji & Jade Garden).

I wanted to write to the Inferno manager and complain but if the bouncer was acting on bar policy, I felt this would not address our concerns. I considered a more public platform, like Onward State, to have them showcase our experience instead: I wanted to publicly humiliate the bar the same way they publicly humiliated my friends and I outside that bar that night. Until finally, I calmed myself down, told myself it's just a bar, and made myself move past this without taking any action. Later, I also learned that the owner of Inferno also owns several other bars in the area that have actually treated me very well. A part of me was relieved that I hadn't shared my story publicly because I didn't want to implicate employees that might not have anything to do with the Inferno intolerance. Still, I was left feeling mistreated. I wasn't sure what to do at this point so I let it simmer... for a long time.

Since then, I've had several friends approach me with similar stories and about other bars in the State College area. Their accounts brought back the fury I felt that night many semesters ago. For many of my friends, these experiences against the backdrop of the current national rhetoric further exacerbated their anxiety that comes with being an immigrant/non-immigrant in today's America. I wouldn't be so ambitious as to say that my sharing this would resolve any of this; however, I do hope that we can begin a conversation about how we can better educate ourselves and our local community about who we are, and about our rights. That night in front of Inferno, I remember asking the bouncer, "...if you don't understand why this rule exists, how can you follow and enforce it? Why don't you question your manager?" Ill-informed, misinformed, or uninformed communities (local, immigrant, or non-immigrant--a topic for another post) breed dangerous climates for all. This is not about simply being denied access to a bar; it is about how this denial and exclusion is one of many symptoms of a much deeper division in the US. The already highly contentious issue of immigration in this nation has been further polarized by an administration that vilifies immigrants and non-immigrants alike. The narrowing categories of populations that are "welcome" in US society has created a chilling environment for the millions that don't "make the cut"--immigrants are just one of these many marginalized groups.

So I'm asking everyone in the State College community and beyond to speak up about these issues in an effort to address harmful practices by staying informed about our rights--especially at a time when polices are shifting so rapidly. A very dear friend of mine shared an American Civil Liberties Union flyer with me on Knowing Your Rights--this is a great place to start for those of you that just want to take a quick glance. I also recommend you visit the Center for Immigrants' Rights Clinic, directed by Dr. Shoba Wadhia for additional reading. I specifically urge you visit their page on Immigration After the Election. The Center for Education and Civil Rights, directed by Dr. Erica Frankenberg is also a great place to go digging for resources on fostering racial and ethnic equality and staying abreast of the related happy haps on campus and beyond. Global Programs is a decent resource when it comes to non-immigrant rights and responsibilities but they don't cater to the broader community (their focus is students) so I'd keep that in mind when you navigate their site. I'm sure you all have several ideas for other resources so I'll stop here and ask that you please use whatever platforms to which you have access, to begin sharing both local and national resources for folks to turn to.

That night we walked away swearing to never return to Inferno. It's been three years and we've kept our word.

Word(s) to the Wise

I was propping myself up on the exam table at our University Health Services (UHS) when I noticed a troubling poster staring back at me. It read:

"Foreign travel is dazzling. Foreign disease is not. Travel Wise. Immunize here. Be safe there."

Do you see the problem there? Words are powerful, so let me break this down:

"Foreign travel is dazzling. Foreign disease is not." 

What exactly is "foreign disease"? Disease that can only exist in places outside of the USA? Disease that is unique to foreigners? "Foreign disease" separates non-Americans in a derogatory way. No disease is exclusively "owned" by foreigners. More importantly, is the implication here that "USA diseases" (whatever that may mean) are dazzling? No disease is dazzling.

"Immunize here. Be safe there." 

This suggests that immunization is only necessary when leaving America (which is a dangerous message to send), and secondly categorizes the rest of the world as a more dangerous place (when in truth there are several countries that outperform the USA in health indicators). Safety is not only a concern when leaving the USA. I can turn to any American news channel right now and give you 10-20 reasons why this is incorrect. Individuals should immunize based on the needs of the country they travel to because this may vary from the vaccination requirements for the USA; however there are immunization and safety concerns in any country--even if to varying degrees and types.

Now I'm all about constructive criticism so I've taken the liberty to draft a less offensive version:

"[all] Travel can be dazzling. Diseases never are. Travel Wise. Be safe and immunize wherever you are. "

Voila, UHS. There you have it. Now please take that thing down.


Update: I emailed my concerns to the Medical Director at the time and UHS has since taken the poster down. They were also extremely respectful in their response to my request. 

Tech Therapy

I purchased a new computer this week (the 13-inch Macbook Pro: 2.6GHz with retina display in case you're curious) and I spent a considerable chunk of my day getting it prepped for the perils of a PhD program. It's a delightful beast, but a beast nonetheless. Between reformatting my external hard drive, digging up product keys, transferring and backing up data, and the monster of them all: gaining wireless access, I'm all Mac'd out. It's a wonder how the IT service help desk attendant endured the process... because of course, I did none of the work (unless you count sustaining high morale and energy levels, that is). I'm Mac'd out from watching him do all the work for me :)

Photo Credit: support.communitylibrary.org

Needless to say, I was at the desk for a good few hours, during which time I had the opportunity to get a feel for what kinds of things tech folks deal with on a daily. If you ever thought your hair stylist/barber or bartender is a therapist... think again. These guys get everything from boyfriend trouble (that's when a complaint about a boyfriend that was careless with a device turns into an entire conversation about a questionable relationship) to financial trouble (often when a question about a decision on purchasing a device turns into a full blown financial advising session). I'm pretty sure I even heard someone recapping a job interview. Through all of this, the IT service help desk attendants were calmly and supportively prying apart hard drives to examine them and testing/retesting computers in all possible stages of care and existence, all the while listening to their customers' problems (technical or otherwise).

It's essentially the hairstylist/bartender and customer relationship without the tip or gratuity-included bills. Now, I don't know how your IT support operates, but in many University settings the fee is covered by a charge on your account called "technology fee" or something to that effect. Consequently, IT help desk staff don't get half the love other unsanctioned therapists do. Instead, they are often brushed off for being socially inept or awkward. How is that fair? 

So I ask, nay, I urge you to consider doing the following the next time you thank your IT helper:

1. Utilize official feedback surveys (or other formal avenues for feedback)
2. Notify the supervisor that you had a great experience with that particular employee
3. Ask your IT helper how he/she prefers you provide feedback
4. Send the IT office a thank you email mentioning your IT helper by name
5. If you don't want to take the time to do any of the first four, at least be explicit about what they did well and why that was important to you when you say thank you. This will hopefully separate your comment from the often aloof "thanks" they probably hear from everyone. 

N.B. This is probably good practice for all your customer service experiences. 

The Resurgence

So apparently owls steal cats. True story. A Pennsylvania farmer told me that one nicked his in the middle of the night. "They're silent criminals," he testified, "one could swoop its prey up from right behind you and you wouldn't even know it!"

I still struggle with the idea of a feathered carnivore, so getting past the fact that these ones can lift felines will take time.

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My last post was exactly one year ago and a single entry can never do any full year justice, let alone the one I've had. The most drastic of developments being my move to Central Pennsylvania (Happy Valley). With the knowledge that this experience will color all my posts from here on out--as it has my thinking in general--what better way to break the ice?

Tangent: Speaking of ice, we're knee-deep in that stuff here. 

So I've gone from urban to... well... valley, really. DC's low rise office buildings have been replaced with the highly mountainous Pennsylvanian horizon. The void created by the absence of DC's venturesome squirrels is now filled with sizable but unassertive bunnies. Come to think of it, a similar parallel can be drawn about the human inhabitants as well. Motor vehicles have doubled in size and public transit has dropped to the least utilized form of transportation. I've heard that everything is bigger in Texas but, Central Pennsylvania is no place for moderation either. Certainly not in the weather department (but I won't get into that right now because I just might start crying). Even "small talks" are full blown conversations here. The only things "smaller" in Central Pennsylvania are the cab fares. With half the DC price and none of the DC attitude, I must say that cab rides are quite the pleasant experience here. There has to be a study done somewhere to show a correlation between community population and attitude. It's as though we see less of a need to be mindful of our human interactions when there's too many to be had.

I digress.

For a state with as dark a racial history as Pennsylvania, this valley is a unique gem. The sense of community here defies any trajectories that can be made from its past. I'm constantly blown away by the kindness and support that exists here, so as a formal introduction to my home away from home, I wanted to list some of what puts the happy in Happy Valley for me. Here goes (in no particular order):

1. Still mornings. The beauty of a University town is that dawn is avoided like the plague--with the sparse exceptions of students struggling to make it home after a night out or morning shift workers that haven't a choice in the matter. After years of the early morning hustle and bustle of Chocolate City, daybreak in Happy Valley is my epitome of tranquility.
   
   
2. Stars (cosmic; not hollywood). With little interference from city lighting, the skies are less bashful about shining down in Happy Valley.
   
   
3. Vanilla Chai Lattes at Saint's Cafe. Go for the large. They won't be able to serve it to you in the pretty "for here" mugs--those only come in small/medium--but the extra latte is worth enduring the paper cup experience.
   
   
4. Egg, Pesto & Cream Cheese Sandwiches at Cafe Lemont. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.
   
   
5. All things Webster. No, really: All things.
   
   
6. Pattee Library Quiet Study Area. Wooden furniture, warm lighting and all the desk space you need... in silence. Need I say more?
   
   
7. The Architecture building. If the unique interior construction doesn't enthuse you, the fact that the first floor restrooms have changing/shower rooms definitely will.
   
   
8. Collaboration > Competition. I'm speaking strictly about the academic sphere here (and within that, my experience with my department alone). Don't get me wrong, I'm all for healthy competition. The issue I have is when competition becomes the only way we know how to move forward (I know of entire communities in DC that operate in this way). The danger is that goals shift from being about the project to being merely about personally getting ahead. In my experience here, the identification of others with the same interests/goals is seen as an opportunity to collaborate, not scheme. Of course, in situations where competition is the nature of the game (grant applications, employment opportunities, etc), they bring it :)
   
   
9. Agriculture. I'm not entirely sure that I can completely capture this category, but the combination of the many farms, vineyards, tree nurseries, and just open fields sets both a beautiful and comforting backdrop to this welcoming community.
   
   
10. The appreciation of bottom-up community leaders (and yes, I saved the best for last). This is hands down, one of my most favorite things about Happy Valley. For those of you that are familiar with the area, I'm talking about the Russes (Mount Nittany Medical Center) and Mikes (University Park Post Office) of Happy Valley. If you don't know what I mean, think CNN Heroes. Individuals that are living proof that our impact is not defined by our roles/circumstances, but by what we do with what we are given. These unheralded leaders of Happy Valley--our Russes and Mikes--fuel our community from the crevices of their humble positions. Their existence is not unique to Happy Valley, but the respect and appreciation they receive here is. 

Photo credit: mtnittany.org

The DMV Passenger Seat

It's been an interest of mine to write a book on the wonders of public transportation in the DC metropolitan area. In fact, I'm sure a thrilling book can be written on this topic in almost any setting, given the right narrative and perspective. DC just happens to be my only home away from home - and as I've recently come to admit, the place with which I can most closely identify.

So in the mean time, I felt the need to scratch my itch by posting this blog.

It must have been back in the spring of 2006, when I first took a Sociology course. A handful of my classmates and I volunteered to help our instructor with a research project he had been tasked with. We were to map Washington, DC metro stations across various social indicators. The shifts in trends as  you go from the North West quadrant to the South East quadrant were drastic (and in some cases negative) even for that time. It's fair to assume it would have been an even steeper gradient pre-gentrification. The pros and cons of the (often forced) migration of District residents is a topic for another conversation - but whatever your stance may be on that subject, you have to admit that having diversity (no matter what indicator you're looking at) makes for an interesting bus/train ride. Of course some indicators are a lot more entertaining than others. In DC at least, I would argue that age and culture are certainly up there.

My mind goes back to a gentleman that a southbound S4 bus picked up from the U street area. He must have been somewhere around 5 5" or 5 6" in height. Unshaved, it was nearly impossible to make out his features hidden behind the long and curly bush of hair that populated his face. It was almost as though his small and bloodshot eyes were peering through an unkempt veil. He sported a colorful t-shirt and shorts, with a matching backpack. I was having trouble reconciling the contradiction between his appearance from the neck up and his appearance from the neck down, when he placed himself next to an expensively dressed woman that must have been well in her 80s. Almost immediately, he very comfortably placed one arm over her shoulder and rested it on the back of her seat - kind of like something out of a disturbing date scene in a romantic comedy. The woman kept her face turned away but would slowly look at the man from the corner of her eye, all the while shifting away from him in her seat. Within 10 minutes she was at the edge of her seat but, he kept leaning in closer. What she couldn't see was that the man had fallen asleep! By the time we got to her destination, he was literally asleep on her shoulder and didn't even wake up when she got up from her seat!

Photo Credit: www.wjla.com

I must say, in my limited experience, there's nothing like a trip on the S4 or the 70 for some entertainment. I was waiting on the 70 in downtown Silver Spring one sunny afternoon, beside an elderly Ethiopian lady dressed in a long colorful dress and "netela" - a traditional shawl. A young woman walked past and did a double-take, stopped dead in her tracks, then looked closer at the Ethiopian lady's dress. "Wow - that's beautiful", she told her. "Eh?", the Ethiopian woman said, scrunching up her face in complete confusion. The young woman stepped closer and repeated herself, "I said, that's a beautiful dress". The Ethiopian lady also leaned in as though it was her ears that were failing her, and not her command of the English language, "Ehhh?". After the young woman paraphrased for the third time, the Ethiopian lady nodded. Once the young woman walked off, the Ethiopian lady turned to me and said, "Mindinew yemitilegn, lidjay?" - which is Amharic for, what is she saying to me, my child? I smiled and explained the young woman's compliment. "Wiy, wiy, wiy, wiy…", she began to say in disappointment, "tenk yew-im salilat?" - which means, I didn't even get to say thank you! except, she actually knew to say the words "thank you" in English.

A few months back, I was on the Purple Charm City Circulator in Baltimore when a young man boarded the bus looking tired and beaten, with clothes that looked like they had been through a shredder. He slowly made his way to the back of the bus, and sang, to date, the most beautiful rendition of Musiq Soulchild's "Teach Me" that I've ever heard. We gave him a standing ovation.

Of course, there are also the less attractive incidents. I believe I was waiting on the 10 (a county bus) in Hilandale, alone - or so I had thought - when I suddenly got a whiff of… well, how do I say this? It was like someone just opened the doors to an overused public bathroom stall. The fumes were coming at me slowly but without mercy. I calmly turned around, terrified of what I may find behind me. A woman was squatting a short distance behind me, staring me dead in the eyes with her chin pressed against her chest. I quickly noticed the trail of urine coming my way from beneath her and stepped out of the line of fire, then turned back around like I didn't see a thing. When my bus came, I jumped on board without ever looking back.

The rude and disrespectful passengers can be just as bad as being stared down by a creepy woman relieving herself… but, as an email forward I received today said, "the pleasure in anything, is the attitude towards it". So I choose to be grateful for the young boys that help carry a stroller onto a bus for a mother they've never met before, the old woman that helped calm someone else's cranky toddler simply by singing to him from where she was sitting, the bus drivers that don't drive off until the elderly passengers have taken their seats, the regular riders that help guide the new bus drivers that are not sure about what route to take, and the millions of people that give up their seat for the comfort of another person.

There's something isolating about personal vehicles. Public transportation, while much less convenient, is always the heart of where a community truly interacts. There's just no other place where you get that physically close with so many members of the community over such an extended length of time.

"Gravity and Grace"

From the pre-historic era through the middle-ages and into modern art, from neo-classism to present-day abstract art... if there is one thing we can learn from history, it is that art is just as fluid as the context in which it occurs. More accurately, art is in many ways a product of its context. Of the many transitions that [visual] art has undergone, one very interesting trend is the shift from being from the artist to being from the observer. Much of the beauty in modern art is not in what it says but, in what it doesn't. It communicates by leaving room for interpretation, boasting an intricate ability to morph in meaning and message.

Very recently, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing one of the current mediums through which artists incorporate this ability of their art to cater to their observers. Ghanaian sculptor, El Anatsui, allows the institutions that display his work to assemble his pieces as they wish!

The Brooklyn museum is one of America's oldest and New York City's second largest. Housing art from as far back as Ancient Egypt to as current as El Anatsui, it covers the range. With hundreds of thousands of square feet, it displays well over a million works from all over the world. While I didn't get the chance to admire the entirety of this amazing collection, I'm glad I was able to enjoy the little that I did.

Chief amongst these is El Anatsui's "Gravity and Grace" display on the top floor. Having just stepped out of the elevator, I wasn't sure what to make of the enormous snake like clusters of shimmering gold climbing up one of the walls ahead of me. As I walked closer, I began to realize the clusters were from material worth far less than gold. El Anatsui had meticulously strung together recycled tin lids with metal wires that carefully pierce their way through this grand structure.


This magnificent exhibition included 30 of Anatsui's works, 12 of which were floor/wall sculptures of this sort. It's the kind of art work that even those of us that are not artistically endowed can relish.

Shortly after, the darker set of materials used to weave together yet another masterful artwork, captured my attention. It reminded me of oddly popular plastic mats from my childhood in Ethiopia. The same shiny undertone and the slight inability to flow like smooth fabric, due to the more rigid bends that plastic wires preferred to assume. As I walked closer, I slowly began to see gold writings appear all over the display. This was no plastic mat; it was instead made of metal - specifically that which was carefully removed from Black Label Johnnie Walker bottle necks. Similar to the tin lids that snaked up the opposite wall, these metal scraps were also painstakingly knitted together with copper-like wires. As I stepped back again, the gold writings began to disappear and the wall piece came back to life.

It was in that moment that I realized where my mind had filled a gap: that transition from understanding the "sum of the parts" to regaining the depth of the "whole". Embedded in that metamorphosis lies the true beauty of El Anatsui's masterpieces.