2c.
Dominant culture: What glimpses did you gain? Why won’t
students recognize or discuss? What are the costs and benefits of identifying
the Katie Vitek The Ambiguity of Blame: Defining the Dominant Culture
In my mind, the
phrase “dominant culture” evokes images of white upper class Americans in suits,
often with mean or sneering expressions on their faces. This image is the result
of stories that cast them as antagonists, whether those stories come from
multicultural literature or from history. Even as a child, I cast them as the
villains when studying subjects such as the Trail of Tears and the Civil Rights
Movement, despite the fact that by my own definition I am a member of that
culture (though hopefully minus the mean expression). I continue to see them
this way while reading multicultural literature. Categorizing characters in this
genre for the sake of discussion can lead to stereotyping the dominant culture
just as much as stereotyping immigrant and minority groups. Despite a cultural
distaste for stereotyping, it continues to happen. What makes stereotyping
unique when applied to the dominant culture is a feeling that it may be more
warranted. But then, that could just be a literary knee-jerk reaction born of a
desire to label the characters in our lives as either “protagonist” or
“antagonist.” Regardless of the faults of any ethnic group, it is unfair to
project the sins of a few (or even many) onto the whole. I think most people
realize that. The problem is that people don’t like to suffer in silence. Living
in a culture where freedom of speech is a core value can make a person feel like
he has a right to blame others for his problems. In multicultural literature,
that blame falls on the dominant culture which refuses to bend its own identity
in order to accommodate newcomers. The paradox is that we define the dominant
culture by their unmarkedness or their lack of presence, and then, by casting
such enormous blame on them, identify them as occupying the largest presence in
the country. How is it that a group can occupy two such contrasting roles in
society?
As I mentioned in
my first essay, a large part of the beauty of
A Long Day’s Journey into Night is
that drama is created by a lack of dramatic actions. Despite the fact that the
family is Irish and classified as an immigrant family, their skin color and
Tyrone’s success help them to blend in with the dominant culture. The story’s
drama revolves around the family’s conflicts with one another, not with
outsiders or other groups who might discriminate against them. Though they are
marked by their ethnicity, they do not seem to suffer because of it, like other
ethnic groups. But does that mean that the experiences of the Irish are less
valid as an immigrant narrative? If, over time, an immigrant group succeeds in
society, does that mean that they are absorbed into the dominant culture? And,
if so, do they share the blame? It can sometimes feel that way because the most
successful Americans can often be the most resented, however unfair that may be.
In “American
Horse”, readers empathize with Buddy and his mother because they don’t want to
be separated. When Miss Vicky Koob comes along to take Buddy away, she occupies
the role of antagonist simply because of the narrator’s point of view. But if
the story were to be told with Miss Koob as the narrator, could the reader just
as easily see her as a protagonist who is saving a young boy from a hazardous
lifestyle? I think so. The blame can shift depending on who tells the story.
That statement is true in life just as it is in literature. Now I’m not saying
that the dominant culture is innocent and deserves no blame. Clearly, the group
that is in power must take responsibility for the outcomes of its actions, and
dominant Americans haven’t made the best decisions. But recognizing the
ambiguity of blame in America is helpful in understanding why identifying and
discussing the dominant culture can be so difficult.
There are pros and
cons to being a member of any ethnic group. For the dominant culture, pros would
be power, privilege, and for the most part not having to worry about racial
discrimination. The big con is that that definition paints a picture of a
carefree life, which is certainly not true. Life is hard. No matter what. Do
some people have it harder than others? Absolutely. But does that mean that
those who are more privileged have no reason to complain? I don’t think so. Just
as humans seem to instinctively cast blame on other people or other outside
forces, they also have an instinctive need to be recognized for their struggles.
The label “dominant culture,” takes away that recognition, and for that reason
it evokes defensiveness. It seems like the minute someone is classified as being
a member of the dominant culture, he or she feels the need to point out the
hardships he or she has experienced. Similarly, when discussing struggles that
are portrayed in immigrant and minority literature, readers identify with
characters outside of their own ethnic group. We don’t identify with people
because of skin color; we identify with shared experiences. Unfortunately, that
defensive factor can sometimes cause discussion to stall out with an argument
over who has suffered the most.
The debate over
“Who has it worst” is seen in many cultures. Again, it is driven by a human need
for recognition. In “To Da-Duh, In Memoriam,” the narrator feels rejected when
she first meets her grandmother. She is different from her other family members,
so she thinks her grandmother will not believe that she belongs. When the two
stare each other down, Da-Duh looks away first and laughs. That’s all it takes
for the narrator to feel accepted, as she says, “Da-Duh had recognized my small
strength – and this was all I ever asked of the adults in my life then.” From
then on the two get along, but they continually compete to try and prove that
each one’s world is better, New York versus Barbados. Notice that these
characters are related – they are members of the same ethnic group. That fact
lends credence to the idea that this is a human instinct, not necessarily
motivated by ethnicity or culture. Paul Marshall’s story reflects a competition
among cultures to identify their relations to one another and to find their
place in some sort of order. That struggle for belonging parallels the struggles
of assimilation. Immigrants want to belong to a new world, but that doesn’t mean
they want to forget their old world. Just because they’ve chosen to leave
doesn’t mean they’ve chosen to let go.
Whether we are
talking about European Immigrants (Long
Day’s Journey), Minorities (“American Horse”), or New World Immigrants (“To
Da-Dah”), the presence of the dominant culture is felt, even in its absence. In
the midst of this competition, the dominant culture finds itself in a vulnerable
position because it cannot really claim that it has lost anything. It occupies
the role of privilege because it is made up of a group of people who have not
made a cultural sacrifice. But maybe that is the very reason it can be such a
sensitive subject. No one wants to be told that he hasn’t earned what he’s got.
Perhaps members of the dominant culture feel that they are discriminated against
for a social situation that they did not personally create and cannot control,
just like everyone else. Perhaps defensiveness itself is to blame. Maybe if we
weren’t all so busy blaming one another, it would be easier to listen to one
another and try to transcend the very situation we are all complaining about. In
the mean time, maybe we could work with this definition of the dominant culture:
a group of people whose history and values have so affected a society that their
presence is felt even in their absence. My hope for that definition would be
that it would help people to think about this group in terms of their long-term
effects instead of in terms of guilt. I think the less blame is cast around
among all cultural groups, the less defensive people will feel, and the more we
can achieve through open-minded discussion.
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