Although I am a proponent of sensitivity towards cultural differences, and consideration towards the feelings of others, I do find myself frustrated at the (in my opinion) sometimes excessive amount of political correctness that is floating around our country and specifically around Middlebury College. In an atmosphere of “first-years” and ¨Little People”, “Native Americans/Indigenous persons/Indians” , and “womyn”, I sometimes fear that in the effort to avoid offending someone, we miss out the opportunity to hear a critical argument, genuine question, or worst of all, a really funny joke.
So, when I got to Ecuador, I was relieved to discover that the rules of language were a little more lax here. One Ecuadorian student who had studied abroad in Missouri told me that the one thing he simply did not understand about American culture was the concept of “political correctness.” As he said, “here, we sort of just say what we want to, and if it´s something bad, people generally just think we´re joking.¨ I did a little celebratory dance inside my head. Finally! I was in a place where people could talk freely! Gone was the need to censure ourselves! Distasteful jokes could be made without several Proctor tables full of politically aware Middlebury students turning to give me their nastiest looks! I had arrived! Or so I thought, until I saw what a lack of political correctness is like in practice.
This weekend, I found myself in the Oriental region of Ecuador riding a trolley up the side of a volcano at night. Beautiful views, cool people, a cup of traditional hot wine, and life was good. Then, when things could not get any better, we turned around to see the rest of our tour group (all Ecuadorians) gathering around a bonfire. Being gringos, and generally clueless, we naturally all assumed that we were going to be treated to some sort of show put on by people from the indigenous tribes of Ecuador. We eagerly ran up to the fire, ready to have our minds blown by the ancient traditions of these people who have resisted modernization for so long. Turns out, we were not watching a traditional fire dance. No, just a magic show featuring two magicians who could not actually perform magic tricks. So really, we were watching more of a comedy put on by two brothers frolicking around a roaring bonfire. Disappointed, but still ready for a few laughs ,we settled into the show.
Over the course of the next 30 minutes, these two men managed to insult nearly every group of people you could ever think of. Black people, white people, indigenous people, gay people (though they used a much more offensive slang term), women, Chinese people, people from the entirety of Asia, orphans… I could go on for the rest of my 650 allotted words, but I think you get the picture. These men took the most offensive stereotypes about each group and mocked them incessantly: ponytails, pinched eyes, stilted speech and a sort of waddle turned one into a Chinese man, whilst the other killed the crowd by flicking his wrists and speaking in high-pitched, lisping Spanish in his imitation of a gay man. With each joke, we got more and more irritated and shocked that these performers (and the audience) actually thought these crude generalizations were funny. We ended up leaving the show in favor of exploring the mountainside and appreciating the amazing views.
So, for all of you who read my first paragraph and were appalled that I, a student of Middlebury College, cannot understand the need for accurate and sensitive language, consider my lesson learned. At least, partially. I still maintain that sometimes the PC-ness of our country and campus goes too far, but I have come to appreciate that a balance is, indeed necessary. If I am trying to be an empathetic and understanding person, then the language I choose to use needs to reflect this goal.
This does not mean, however, that I cannot still appreciate a good blonde joke.
No comments:
Post a Comment