Cult Autobiography II

8/14/2019 Cult Autobiography II

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Cultural Autobiography, Part II

It would seem like an easy task, one writing about ones life and educational

history and the different elements which combined to shape them. However, since being

asked to discuss my life as it is constructed by some of the concepts that we have

discussed in class, I am actually finding it to be more and more of a challenge. I never

even gave much thought to most of these notions; some of them I heard about for the first

time during this class. One thing, however, remains as clear as day; I cannot ignore the

fact that these concepts did and do play a key role in the development of my identity, as

well as in how I am viewed by the world. Some effects may prove to be ongoing until the

day that I die.

First of all, my place on Allan Johnsons diversity wheel, affects the way that I

am treated by society in many ways. The most dominant factor, I believe, is my gender.

As a female, I am in perhaps the largest minority in the world. It is notable that my

minority group actually comprises a much larger population than that of the majority

(men), yet am placed in the role of minority member due to the overall lack of power and

influence granted to my gender. My being a woman has affected me in many ways, but

especially in the way that I was treated in the home by my father, beginning at a young

age. My father is Middle-Eastern, and that culture devalues women far more than the

American culture does. In the Middle East, it is not uncommon to see women walking

yards behind their husbands, solemn and head bowed. Womens thoughts and opinions

are far from respected, and many are treated as mere servants and baby-raisers. As the

daughter of an Egyptian father, my opinionated and outspoken nature was often chided at


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the dinner table, and the capabilities of my mind were often relegated to the ranks that my

father believed no woman could or should ever rise above. I specifically recall him

treating my temporary adolescent dream of being a doctor with a hearty laugh Youre

a girl, Sarah. Girls are nurses, he retorted. And really, why would I have any reason to

debate him on the matter? I cant recall ever having seen a female doctor portrayed on a

medical drama or in a movie, and they were definitely not spoken about half as much as

men. Come to think of it, Im having a hard time recalling where I got the idea to become

a doctor in the first place.

I am also, in some ways, affected by my physical capabilities. People look at my

body and see an athlete- I am tall, semi-muscular, long-limbed and seemingly agile. I

have been asked day in and day out by strangers if I play basketball or volleyball, to

which I respond with a chuckle and a no, for I have never been athletically inclined.

Throughout junior high and high school, I never played on a single school sports team. In

the towns that I grew up in, this was considered weird. School sports were an institution

in New Milford and Somers, CT even those students who werent all that talented

participated. While most girls were shuffling field hockey balls (if they even are balls)

down the field, I was reciting lines to the latest drama club musical on stage, or belting

out a solo at the chorus recital. Yes, I was a drama nerd, the term given to students who

were passionate about the Arts. However, I believe that I was thought to be the worst kind

of drama nerd- long, lean, and seemingly able, I was the drama nerd whoshould have

been an athlete, even though it would have comprised my happiness to be one. It is also

worth mentioning that, as a 511 female high school senior, there were not too many 58


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boys knocking down my door with dinner invitations. Oddly enough, you can call me a

victim of the ideal body type!

One of the other factors outlined on the diversity wheel that has affected me

greatly is my religious affiliation. I am a Jewish girl to my marrow, both culturally and

religiously, but mostly culturally. I did not become aware that my religion was a minority

until I moved from New Milford, a town with a Jewish population so large that there was

no school on the religious holidays, to Somers, where everyone knew the names of the

two Jewish students in town because, well, there were only two of them. When Biblical

references were made in classes such as English and Social Studies, I recall having to ask

my teachers to clarify them, as I was Jewish and had a weak understanding of the Bible.

Perhaps it was on one such occasion that I heard the rhetorical question Youre Jewish?

for the first time. It wasnt so much the question, but the tone that gave me that first sense

of being the odd man out. Suddenly, I was a token- a token Jew. I dont suppose it

was often meant offensively, but even teachers would single me out when Jewish issues

were discussed, asking questions to which I did not know the answers and demanding of

me that I speak about my religion, which I have always considered to be deeply personal.

I was a point of reference, and while I am sure that no one could tell you what religions

the kids who sat next to me, behind me, on the other side of the room from me were, no

one everforgot that I was Jewish. I cant recall ever being discriminated against for it,

unless you count the occasional good-natured jew joke, which I took in stride because I

told them myself all the time. However, the implication of being Jewish didnt need a

positive or negative connotation it was simply that I knew that I wasnt like mostpeople


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that mattered. After all, Christians have Christmas songs aplenty, and all Jews have for

Hanukkah are three joke-filled tunes by Jewish actor and musician Adam Sandler.

Remarkably, none of the factors which I have discussed seem to have affected my

social capital, and I can think of one reason which I believe is solely responsible for this.

Although I do have a heritage which is, in part, regarded negatively, to most people,I

dont look different. While many people can detect that there is something decidedly

ethnic about my appearance, I am often believed to be of Italian or Greek descent thus,

Caucasian. I do not have very dark skin, I dont cover my head (for I am not Muslim), I

do not speak with an accent, and my dress and mannerisms are considered to be normal.

While I am a female who is a member of both a religious and ethnic minority, I dont feel

as if I suffer at the hands of any sort of discrimination because, aside from my gender, no

one can see these things by looking at me. If anything, I have benefited from these

characteristics through programs such as affirmative action. While I cannot be sure that

my acceptance in to MSU had anything to do with my religion or my ethnicity which is

reflected in my Arabic last name I know that, in a school that practices affirmative

action, they could not have hurt me. I have even been told not to change my last name to

my stepfathers because my last name gives me an added edge. I should note, however,

that while I am sure of where I stand in terms of religion and ethnicity, the issue of my

race has always left me a bit puzzled. I am, after all, the child of a man born in Africa;

therefore, I am, in theory, African-American. However, the term African-American has

for ages has been used to describe people of color, regardless of how far back they can

link their ancestry to Africa. If I were to tell someone that I was African-American, they

would laugh in my face, because the image of a normal African American commonly


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conjures up that of a black person, and I am far from black. Therefore, I have always

identified myself as Caucasian on things like standardized tests and surveys. Looking

back, I now realize that I am a part of that tiny percentage which fits neatly in to the

category of other.

Now I arrive upon the construction of normality and how it defines me. By all

outward appearances, I am a normal person. I am not the victim of any birth defects,

mental, emotional, or physical illnesses, or any other afflictions or misfortunes which

would lead one to be labeled abnormal. However, there are many definitions of

normal that are relative to particular societies. In New Milford, for example, it was

normal to be Jewish, because it was common and accepted and not viewed as

something that debilitated a person or a society. In Somers, however, it was not normal

because practice of the religion was rare and often misunderstood. I understood right

away when I moved to Somers and became the third Jew in school that I was abnormal,

and this evoked in me for the first time a feeling of being the odd man out because I

wasnt Christian. If we choose to look at normality in this way, then we can say that there

are a lot of things about me that are not normal. For example, I am the child of a broken

home, as well as a 24 year old attending college among a community of 18-20 year olds.

Neither of my parents even went to college. These factors all combine, in the society that

I am a part of, to define me as not normal because I do not fit in to the majority in any

of these categories. It may be automatically assumed that I am at a disadvantage, or

worse, that my abnormalities need to be fixed, so I can be assimilated in to the

normal society, however, I dont find this to be the case. I have always looked at my

differences as elements to my uniqueness, as well as decent conversation starters.


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Therefore, these factors do not at all affect how I look at myself, only possibly how

others look at me, and I have never been subjected to any evidence which would support

that fact. If I found that others thought lowly of me, or evenpitiedme for any reason, I

would feel sorry not for myself, but for them. I wouldnt change a single one of my

abnormalities.

Well, maybe one. I would love to know what it feels like, even for a day, to be a

man. To know that I can speak without constraint, live without limit, and have boundless

opportunity. As a woman, even in a day and age when woman can finally vote and are

active members of the workforce, there are still abundant examples of gender bias in

society, and I have been affected by some of them at some point in my life. Just last

week, for example, my boyfriend advised me to let him take my car in to the shop to be

worked on. When I asked why, he smirked at me and replied that he would be taken more

seriously as a guy, even though I have a larger background of information on my car than

he does. He warned me that if I were to take the car in, the likelihood of my getting

ripped off would increase. The sad thing to me was that I knew he was right. Women are

considered to be clueless about cars, and are therefore often charged a lot more money for

auto repair simply because male mechanics know that they can get away with it. This is

only a small example of the gender bias I have experienced in my life. I have experienced

it a lot more in school, especially coming from male teachers. I recall one of my junior

high school social studies teachers beginning every class period with a short discussion

on the scores of whatever major sporting event had taken place the night before. Without

fail, the teacher launched in to passionate, macho sports talk with the guys while the

girls, who did not share the teachers passion for sports, stared blankly ahead. When the


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chat was finally over, boys still dominated the classroom discussion, often times doing so

without even raising their hands. Similarly, in one particular science class of mine, the

male teacher almost always chose a male student to come to the front of the class to assist

him with an experiment demonstration. In the rare case that he selected a female, he

would complete virtually the entire experiment himself, with the girl looking on

anxiously, serving as more of a lovely assistant than an active participant. I suppose it

was always assumed that men are better with science than women, and this is exactly the

kind of gender bias that I and many other girls have encountered in school. While it may

be that no one is telling me outright that my opinion matters any less, or that I am worse

at science than my male classmates, I am subconsciously being fed these ideas by the

way that I am treated.

This is where the notion of a hidden curriculum comes into play. Hidden

curriculum refers to lessons that we, males and females, are taught that are implicated by

the non-hidden curriculum. The social studies and science class examples reflect a hidden

curriculum which is teaching women that their contributions to classroom discussion are

not as valuable as those of their male peers, and that they are not expected to be as strong

in scientific subjects as the boys. The notion of hidden curriculum, it seems, begins so

early in the educational system. As early as kindergarten, young girls are shown picture

books which identify women as nurses, teachers, and stay-at-home mommies, while Dad

is always pictured walking through the door in a suit carrying a briefcase. Even though

the typical nuclear family does not fit this rigid mold any longer, these images are still

abundant in the picture books used in most elementary schools. These ideas are further

compounded when the schools curriculum gets a bit more in depth. Simply put, female


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students are inundated with the male perspective. Male historians, male authors, and male

politicians are constantly studied, leaving the female perspective in the wind. I recall

having to do a brief biography in third grade of a famous female chosen from a list of

possibilities that the teacher (a woman) had previously selected. I read off names like

Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B, Anthony, Sally Ride, and Corretta Scott King, utterly

clueless as to whom these women were until I stumbled on the first and only familiar

name. It was Princess Diana, a woman who was famous more for her celebrity status than

for any societal contributions, although she made many. I ended up selecting Sally Ride,

the first woman in space, for my project, and not seeing many of those other famous

names again in school for quite some time. This is exactly how the hidden curriculum

operates; it doesnt single women out as inferior, it merely pushes many womens issues

and studies off to the side, giving both male and female students the impression that

women are inferior. While I have never thought of myself as inferior to any man for any

reason, I understand that it will always be that much harder for to me to be taken

seriously when countering a man, and this has affected how I express myself for the

better. I am always sure to choose precisely the best words and points when making an

argument, especially to or with a man, so as not to be easily shot down or shrugged off.

Even with all of this mention of social disadvantages and my many minority

statuses, I cannot claim to be completely at a disadvantage. I still consider myself lucky

for many reasons, some of which affected the strength of my education. One of these

factors was the parental involvement I had in my schooling, namely from my mother. My

mother, you see, can only be described as the quintessential PTA Mom. While she was

not actually a member of the PTA until my younger sister went to school, my Mom was a


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frequent volunteer in all of my classrooms. Whether it was bringing in cupcakes or

reading stories, my mother has always loved to be a part of the educational process. I can

recall learning to read at the age of 4, and promptly beginning the tradition of Mommy-

Sarah reading nights. While the actual nights always varied, the tradition stayed the

same- wed sit together, or maybe lie in bed, and just read silently. If I wasnt reading,

then I was completing some other homework assignment while my mother read next to

me. Either way, she believed that in order for me to value both the gift of reading and

education, she must serve as my partner in the educational process, learning with me

through her reading as I learned. Needless to say, she always kept up with my homework

assignments and what I was studying in school, and wed often discuss the issues at the

dinner table. This brought a whole new perspective to my school studies, and made me

that much more passionate about the subjects. For these reasons, I give my mother a lot

of the credit for my history as a strong student. I realize that I am extremely lucky in this

regard, as many students parents either cannot or choose not to take such an active part

in their childrens schooling. My mothers love for learning, as well as her passion formy

education, has raised me to a much greater advantage than a lot of students.

In addition to being the child of a wonderful mother and a caring stepfather, I am

fortunate enough to be privileged in many other ways. These privileges never seemed like

privileges to me until we studied them in class, and I realized that some of the behaviors I

practice every day are simply not available for some other people. This includes being

able to walk freely down the street, hand in hand with my boyfriend, and to walk in to an

expensive clothing store and be treated by the associates as a guest, not a potential thief.

After all, I am a white, heterosexual woman, with no outward appearances that would


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cause me to be labeled as different. I never really considered it, but members of other

minority groups, such as homosexuals and African Americans, cannot live their lives as

freely as I live mine. For example, gay people are often forced to keep their relationships

private, not to flaunt them. Also, many times, members of ethnic minorities who clearly

lookethnic (unlike myself) are often distrusted and given a much lower level of service

by many industries, especially retail. The fact that these people do not benefit from such

privileges forces them to live day in and day out with the knowledge that they are

different, and that they may neverbe treated equally. I suppose that perhaps the greatest

privilege than I can claim is that I donthave to live with this kind of knowledge. The fact

that I can live my life, for the most part, freely, grants me a sort of power which is

intangible, but highly influential. I have an unspoken power to do the kind of things that

many minorities only dream of, due simply to the way that society looks at me. While I

cannot relate these experiences to the school environment due to the overwhelming lack

of racial, ethnic, and sexuality-based minorities in my schools, it has greatly affected my

life in ways that I never even considered until I took this class. I can vote, I can drive, I

can get sufficient service in a restaurant or store, I am never looked at strangely, I am

never the victim of slurs, and I am never offended by jokes or connotations made about

my people at my own expense. All of these things give me power, advantage, authority,

which are not in any way contingent upon my mind or accomplishments. Do I think this

is fair? Absolutely not. It makes me feel a tinge of guilt to know that I did nothing to earn

these privileges, or this power, but I suppose its that very fact that makes the concept of

privilege, in this sense, so unjust.


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Overall, I consider myself to be an extremely fortunate, well-rounded person. I

am shaped almost equally by my life experiences and by the factors which we discussed

in class. I cant even believe how much my perspective broadened once I was forced to

examine myself through the lens that concepts such as social capital and gender bias

create. While I am grateful for my new base of knowledge, I still continue to regard

myself more as the subject of my own decisions and destiny. While my past and the

world that I live in may attempt to define and restrict me, I know that I hold the power to

break through those restrictions and leave trails for other members of the minorities of

which I am a member. These are the events which I believe will ultimately write my final

autobiography.

Documents

Cult Autobiography II