The Book of Mormon Is Really Problematic

I spent last weekend in New York City with a few of my friends, reveling in the much-needed break from the routine of classes and work and extracurriculars. In the last night of our trip, my friend and I found ourselves rushing through the baffling, disorienting, punchy landscape of Times Square, laughing and delirious, to secure a seat for The Book of Mormon eight minutes before the show started, got standing tickets, and waited eagerly to be beset with raucous laughter. 

I was laughing throughout the show. And so did the majority white audience, as well. The show is a raging satire about the incoherence of Mormon beliefs and practices, with songs ranging from critiques about their missionary quest and suppressed desires (“Turn it off/ Like a light switch/ Just go flick/ It’s our nifty little Mormon trick”) to Spooky Mormon Hell Dream and All-American Prophet. This musical is a hilarious and unflinching caricature of Mormons in America, digging deep into some of the inconsistent and disturbing consequences of the religion’s practices. The story follows two young missionaries, Elder Price and Elder Cunningham. To their dismay, they get placed in Uganda (hilariously contrasting Price’s ardent dream for Orlando, Florida). When they get there, they find a highly caricatured and stereotyped African city with people who say “fuck you” to god, where the only town doctor also has– as we’re always reminded to cue laughter– “maggots in his scrotum”, and where General Butt-Fucking-Naked wants to mutilate the genitals of the women in the town. Elder Price is appalled, tries to civilize the town, but leaves and loses faith in God, while Elder Cunningham (the dumb one) teaches them Mormonism all wrong, mingling it with Star Wars and fantasy worlds. The Ugandans believe they are true Mormons and to share their excitement, they put on a huge play to demonstrate their understanding of Mormon history, but because they were taught it incorrectly, we have a painful ten-minute song with All-American Joseph Smith jerking off to frogs, unsettling sexual innuendos, and something that resembles a minstrel show– but not to be feared! By the end of the musical, Elder Price and Elder Cunningham start their own form of Mormonism, and all the black people are Mormons in the end, again reinforcing the incoherence of the faith. 

But this musical also reinforces something else, and that is anti-black racism. It was hard for me to tell in the moment if the jokes were appropriate to laugh at– they were smart, raunchy, and it seemed to be in the position that we were laughing at everyone. Nothing was safe in the musical. The white people, the black people, the Mormons, the atheists. It was highly irreverent, and drove home its purpose: to show how silly not only Mormon practices were, but how generally blind religious practices that were pursued for ego and fame, and that strove to “civilize” others always backfired in the end. 

But The Book of Mormon only complexifies the white narrative, not the black one. By the end of the musical, we get a progressive critique about Mormonism– but they had to use African people in order to achieve that. They had to caricature Africa, reduce it down to the most obvious stereotypes: uneducated, gullible, oversexualized, impoverished. Against this setting, our understanding of Mormonism complexified and were challenged, even through the satire: we see that Elder Price is narcissistic, that Elder Cunningham is ignorant, that there are problems with repression and self-righteousness. But this wasn’t the case for the Africans in the musical. Their narrative remained caricatured and degraded, all the way until the end. There is no growth to our understanding of their existence in the play– they are there simply as a plot device to support the complexity of the white characters’. 

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A popular clapback is that it’s not only the black people that are caricatured, but also the whites! However, this doesn’t hold water– the musical literally reinforces the white savior complex because by the end, the Ugandans convert to the disformed form of Mormonism anyway. The white characters achieve some level of success in their attempt to “civilize” the Africans; and even though the musical makes fun of this success, it still seems to me like The Book of Mormon desperately wants to maintain the power balance from the white savior complex. 

I don’t regret watching the show, but after thinking about it for a week, I realized how uncomfortable I had been in the theatre as one of the only people of color there. This is a musical that white people can heartily laugh to– it’s the only time they get a pass for laughing at jokes about Africa because they are thinly veiled in the form of satire. But if you look any closer, the musical only reinforces the stereotypes it purports to repudiate.

(Image from Google Images.)

Disney Remakes and Representation

At the beginning of July, Disney revealed that the character of “Ariel” in the live action adaptation of The Little Mermaid would be played by Halle Bailey, half of the sister R&B duo Chloe x Halle. The casting of Bailey, an African-American actress, was met with a strong response. Fans were quick to take to Twitter, Facebook, and other social media platforms to vehemently express either criticism or praise for the casting. While many were pleased with the announcement, others argued Ariel should keep her distinctive look, which included wide blue eyes, bright red hair, and a pale skin tone. The hashtag #NotMyAriel generated response from both ends of the spectrum, with proponents of the casting suggesting that Ariel’s character is first and foremost a mermaid, therefore not exclusionary to any race or ethnicity. 

Just a few days after the casting announcement, the teaser trailer for Disney’s upcoming live action of Mulan was released. While people were genuinely pleased by the Asian cast, comments continued to stream in. Why would it be wrong to cast someone of a different identity for Mulan, but okay to cast someone that doesn’t look like the classic cartoon version of Ariel? Freeform, an American cable television channel owned by The Walt Disney Company, addressed this issue with an Instagram post. While discussing the Danish background of Hans Christian Andersen, the author of the original fairy tale version of “The Little Mermaid”, Freeform noted that “Danish mermaids can be black because Danish *people* can be black.” As such, Halle Barry’s talent, youth, and personality made her the exceptional choice for the part of Ariel, regardless of appearance.

The controversy over The Little Mermaid casting is an example of how attempts to diversify classic characters can be momentous. Ariel’s case is arguably different than that of characters such as Mulan, Tiana, or Moana, whose ethnicities and racial identities are integral to their characters and storylines. Along those lines, there is something to be said on the topic of representation.

In my childhood, Mulan was my favorite Disney princess. She was a strong, smart, beautiful female character that got the guy but also knew how to take care of herself (and save all of China). Growing up as a Disney and Mulan lover, I cherished the 1999 VHS of Mulan, dressed up as the title character for Halloween, and constantly sang “Reflection” in a squeaky, childlike high-pitched voice. There’s another reason I took a liking to Mulan, however. As someone who identities as an Asian-American, Mulan was the Disney princess that looked like me. The only Disney princess that looked like me.

For those that grew up watching Disney movies, it’s notable that diversity hasn’t always been a strong suit (as much as we adore all the princesses and other characters). Having a character you can identify with is important; the way that characters who resemble us are portrayed can affect how we think about ourselves. For a child watching a Disney movie, representation can enable them to see themselves in their heroes, which can be incredibly empowering. To some degree, I understand those who long for the cartoon version of Ariel – perhaps they have bright red hair just like their favorite princess.  But it’s also worth noting that casting Halle Bailey as Ariel could be incredibly empowering, especially since it wasn’t until 2009 that the first Black Disney princess, Tiana, debuted in The Princess and the Frog

What is your take on this topic? Comment below!

 

Link to more information on Freeform’s response

Forever more by Yuna

 

I don’t know how to even contain my excitement over this song. It feels like its spilling over and I just cannot.

This song is the epitome of a perfect pop song reflecting Malaysia by showcasing essential representation of Malaysian people. We see motorbike guys, termed ‘Mat Rempit’ and even though these sub group of people are a somewhat nuisance, here we see them celebrating their culture, togetherness and brotherhood they strive to achieve through riding bikes at night, speeding along highways. We also see different groups of races here, namely the Malays and Chinese. The Indian people are also represented through the elegant Indian dance moves.

My words are not able to convey how fascinating the video is and how Yuna really is an underrated Malaysian pop star staying true to her roots. She symbolizes hope, unity and faith for her people, something unheard of these days.

(Also its on Spotify/what are you waiting for go listen and watch the video!)

A Whole New Viola!

Since I started preparing for my junior recital a few months ago, I have become increasingly interested in contemporary music for viola. It’s an awkward instrument, or at least that’s what society says. You’re far more likely to recognize the name of a famous violinist or cellist than a famous violist. They aren’t considered solo instruments, and I think in many ways that has shaped the way I view myself as a musician. I have always seen myself as a supporting musician rather than at the forefront of a performance, but that’s not a very helpful thing to envision for myself. Why shouldn’t I be a soloist? Why shouldn’t I be a leader? At the very least, why shouldn’t I strive for that level?

I enjoy contemporary music– I feel like it represents my beliefs about music and I believe in its future. It gives me the opportunity to play music by people who are living now. It gives me the opportunity to commission pieces from composers.  It’s different and weird, but to me, those are good things.

In my quest for contemporary viola music, I came across Nadia Sirota. She’s a violist who commissions new works, plays on recordings for people like Sufjan Stevens, and works as a Creative Partner for the New York Philharmonic. For the past few years, Nadia has hosted a few podcasts based on contemporary music. Finding her website was a revelation for me. A female violist, not violinist, making waves in the music world in more than just one way. She has a solid performing and recording career, but she is also active in the arts leadership community. If she can do it, I can too.

What’s most attractive to me about this solo-viola-contemporary-world is that I might be able to achieve a sense of individuality with my career. In music school they tend to produce the same type of players with the same values and skills. There’s nothing wrong with that, especially when you’re playing the same pieces of classical music over and over again. Contemporary music puts value in classical skills as well as more out-of-the-box skills, and there’s more room to do things that have never been done before. There’s more room for inclusivity: of players, composers, and audiences. Not to say that we shouldn’t preserve the music of the past, but it’s about time that we pay attention to the music that is happening now.

Rainbow Capitalism

Rainbow capitalism, also called pink capitalism or gay capitalism, is when businesses use the LGBTQ movement in order to profit off it. The rainbow color scheme and themes of queerness are incorporated in marketing materials or products. Although rainbow capitalism in theory sounds empowering and supportive within the new era stepping closer to equality, it may also be detrimental to the true goals of the movement by falsely marketing companies as LGBTQ friendly, capitalizing off of consumers.

Having attended my first two Pride events in New York City, I could definitely view the difference between now and then. Pride marches started in the 1970s after the Stonewall Riots, in which LGBTQ patrons at the Stonewall Inn protested constant mistreatment by police. Now, Pride has become more of a consumerist event that overtakes spaces meant for queer people. Corporate sponsors boast large floats of celebrities and rainbow merchandise, effectively erasing queer oppression and turning Pride into a party that ignores current issues of homophobia. While Pride can and should be celebratory for LGBTQ people, corporations have recognized the wave of allyship that is profitable and exploitable for their own purposes.

Part of the reason why rainbow capitalism has been celebrated is because it’s easy–it’s much easier to slap a rainbow sticker on your laptop than it is to address institutional problems such as the exclusion of of queer people of color from LGBTQ spaces or homeless queer youth.

So the next time Pride rolls around, I urge you to think about and educate yourself on the history of Pride and what it means. Are you supporting LGTBQ people and spaces? If you’re an ally, are you helping queer people or treating Pride just as a party? Wear your rainbows proudly, but always remember the fight for equality.

Why Basketball is the Universal Sport

If you ask someone what the most popular sport is, chances are they will answer with soccer. For team sports, enrollment in soccer, lacrosse, basketball, and rugby are growing more and more widespread. However, I truly believe that basketball is for everyone.

Invented by James Naismith in 1891, basketball continues to be dominant as a major sport for both amateurs and professional athletes. The fast-paced, exhilarating game can be played by almost anyone–people who use wheelchairs, tall, short, young, old, any gender. All you need is a hoop of some kind and a ball; this simple equipment closes the gap for people of different socioeconomic statuses, unlike sports which require tons of expensive gear like skiing or hockey. Also, the fundamentals of basketball are easier to learn than those in other sports: you need to dribble, pass, and shoot, but can go on much farther and improve upon your skills from there. The rules are relatively simple, and games can be adapted for different people. Of course, not everyone is going to like basketball, but overall basketball is an accessible and enjoyable sport.

Another interesting point about basketball is that it is linked to contemporary culture, particularly streetwear style. They are closely connected and play off each other. From the famous Jordans that catalyzed the sneakerhead movement to a constantly-changing collection of fashion collaborations, basketball enriches global style. Furthermore, basketball has influenced many conversations about race and equality throughout history. Basketball is more than a sport; it allows people to connect with one another and others around the world, get active, and learn how to impact one’s community.

To get inspired, check out these awesome basketball courts from @HypeCourts:

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