The format of the event hosted by WASAC was a Q&A session with some questions from WASAC e-board members to start with about the context of the current relationship between Kashmir, India and Pakistan, as well as the timeline of events that have led to the present day. Since the Partition of India and Pakistan in 1947, Kashmir has been a disputed territory with claims to it laid by both India and Pakistan, and is one of the most militarized zones in the world. Jalal explained  the timeline of events that have led up to today, noting that the biggest blow to freedom in Kashmir was the abrogation of Article 370 of the Indian Constitution by the current government in power. Article 370 afforded Kashmir a limited level of autonomy of self-administration, except in laws related to finance, defense, foreign affairs and communication. Article 35A, under Article 370, specifically empowered state lawmakers to ensure special rights and privileges for residents of the state, denying property rights to non-residents. With the abrogation of Article 370, non-Kashmiris are allowed to buy property in the region, and this is a particular point of concern for the Muslim-majority state and population. 

Jalal gave some of this context and timeline, and the Q&A began with some questions from WASAC e-board members before the floor was opened to all attendees of the event, who asked a range of questions about potential solutions for the current situation, the parallels between Palestine and Kashmir, and the impact of propaganda on how Kashmir is viewed in India, Pakistan and around the world. Professor Jalal also invited some of her own graduate and undergraduate students to speak on their experiences as Kashmiris and also as experts in their own right. 

Kashmir, for as long as it has been a point of contention, has been referred to as a religious conflict, but Professor Jalal insists that that is not the sole or even most important issue relevant to Kashmir. Jalal’s insistence that religion was not the only cause of Partition goes against many of the narratives that have existed around the causes of Partition. She makes a distinction, specifically in her book “Self and Sovereignty,” between religion as faith, which is more personal, and religion as identity, which is more publicly identifiable. 

“Any understanding of history will tell you that while religion was always important, … nobody had fetishized it to the extent of the colonial category, that you were just monolithically Muslim,” she said in an interview with The News.

To Jalal, the most pressing issue in Kashmir is the military occupation, which rejects the right of the people of Kashmir to self-determination. The current system in place is one that follows the system in place during British colonial rule. 

“Oppression learned from the colonial state comes too easy,” Jalal noted.

Jalal was also asked about the parallels between Kashmir and Palestine, and she explained that while she thought there are definitely parallels, there is much more religious tension in Israel and Palestine. 

“There are colonial structures that the British created in Palestine that are now being recreated in Kashmir to control the people, and there are also similarities in the militarization as well,” she said.

The problem with Kashmir is also how people view the region to begin with, according to Jalal. Viewing the current situation solely through the perspectives of India and Pakistan is limiting, since the nation states are largely viewing this as a land dispute, rather than an issue for the people of the region.

“There’s a tendency to see things through the nation-states. So long as you see it through the perspective of India and Pakistan, there is no solution,” she said. “There is a possibility of a people’s approach, but that is not being allowed [right now].”

“Monkey Man,” Dev Patel’s directorial and screenwriting debut, arrived in theaters on April 5, 2024, to much fanfare, even receiving a standing ovation at its premiere at the SXSW festival. The film was hailed (mistakenly, in this writer’s opinion) as an “Indian John Wick,” and also as a step forward for South Asians in the diaspora in film, who are rarely cast as action leads in Hollywood. The film was originally going to stream on Netflix in 2023, but was dropped, allegedly, due to its criticism of the current party in power in India, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). It was then picked up by Jordan Peele’s production company, Monkeypaw Productions, and was finally slated for a 2024 theatrical release, defying its many hurdles in coming to fruition, including several injuries to Patel himself in filming the action sequences. 

The (literal) blood, sweat and tears thrown into this film on Patel’s part are clear to the audience, as he weaves a revenge story that aspires to resonate with every kind of underdog, fighting his way to the upper echelons in the fictional city of Yatana (depicted very similarly to Mumbai). The action, although sparingly used, is innovative in how the choreography moves throughout; the use of the sets and props includes some truly shocking moments —— one in which Patel’s protagonist pushes a knife into his opponent’s throat with his own teeth. Patel clearly relishes the opportunity to stretch his and our imagination, through the action and through the story that draws several parallels between the unnamed protagonist and the Hindu god, Hanuman. 

The protagonist —— Kid, as he is credited in the film —— draws inspiration to exact revenge for his mother’s murder from the story of Hanuman. The Hindu god, who is a key figure in the epic Ramayana, also inspires Kid to create the titular persona, Monkey Man. Multiple flashbacks piece together the story of a child who grew up with stories of Hanuman told by his mother, which inspired him to fight against the same people who were responsible for her murder. He has two main opponents: police Chief Rana (Sikander Kher), who killed his mother, and Baba Shakti (Makarand Deshpande), a religious figure who ostensibly preaches faith and peace but endorses a party that clearly parallels the BJP and its violent rhetoric today. The mother is depicted very sweetly (played by Adithi Kalkunte), but beyond her repeated retelling and prayers to Hanuman, we don’t see much more of her. This seems to be an issue with several of the women in the film — they are restricted to one-dimensional roles. The love interest, Sita (also an explicit reference to the Ramayana), only ever speaks a couple of times, leading to the women feeling more used than fully leading the story, but this could also be a factor of Patel trying to include too much in one film. The use of the violence committed against his mother as a justification for his future actions may not be the reason that people root for as completely as Patel might expect. 

Although the film is fast-paced and makes you root for Patel and his, at once, cynical and idealistic protagonist, the political commentary is where the film falters. Patel’s message, which one assumes is broadly against the hateful rhetoric and sectarian divisions that are the trend today, is diluted because he tries to address too many issues at once. The strongest exception to this rule is the depiction of the hijra — a broad label for gender-nonconforming individuals — community in the film, who are depicted in a far more humanized manner than they have been in the past. 

Writer Siddhant Adlakha specifically notes that the justification of the righteous rampage being a mission designated to him by the gods is a little too similar to the ways in which the current Hindu supremacist government justifies their actions as being part of a holy mission. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who is currently campaigning for his party in the nationwide elections, gave a speech on April 21, 2024, referring to Muslims as “infiltrators.” This is the most explicitly hateful he has been in his political speech, and marks a very concerning turn for India’s Muslims. Considering this context, Patel’s critique could have been more impactful if he had been more specific, although there were scenes which incorporated video from real-life protests against the BJP, with signs that read “Save India’s Muslims.” However, even the biggest Bollywood stars and films are falling in line with BJP propaganda, so “Monkey Man’s” message, even diluted, is still valuable.

Despite its diluted political message, the film works quite well in its action sections and some inspired shots. The frenetic pace closer to the final showdown works for the most part except where the shakier, blurrier camera is slightly overused to the point where it gets confusing. Patel’s music choices are particularly interesting though, as he includes the song “Dana Dan” by the Indian folk metal band Bloodywood in the final fight, and also includes several Indian musicians throughout the film. One scene, in particular, depicts a jugalbandhi — a call and response style performance in South Asian classical music — between two instruments: the tabla from the iconic tabla player Zakir Hussain and the protagonist’s fists to a punching bag. It is a thoroughly entertaining scene that shows the potential of what Dev Patel the director can do, since there is no doubt that Dev Patel the actor can make you root for him, even as he goes on a deadly rampage. 

“Monkey Man” is an undeniably enjoyable watch despite its muddled, if well-meaning, political and social commentary, clearly brimming with love for the people Patel shows on screen and the story Dev Patel is trying to tell. It is an impressive and ambitious directorial debut that will make its audience (and this writer) excited to see what Patel does next now that he has begun his journey as a screenwriter and director.

“We express our solidarity with students who are organizing for Palestinian liberation and self-determination, and who are facing threats and attacks for their advocacy,” they wrote. “We support their right to not be subjected to harassment, intimidation and racist hate speech, because of their advocacy for Palestinian rights.”

Faculty first put out a statement in December, which circulated on social media via several student organizations, including Wellesley Al-Muslimat (ALM), the Arab Students Alliance at Wellesley (ASAL), the Wellesley Asian Alliance (WAA) and others. The Google doc was titled “Statement of concerned faculty on the right to express solidarity with Palestinians and Palestine and to express opposition to Zionism and the policies of the state of Israel.” The statement garnered support from students but swift backlash from administration — in particular, in an email from President Paula Johnson, who wrote, “The letter ignores how opinions and statements of the kind expressed in the letter can threaten the existence of Israel and increase fears for Jewish students on our campus.” 

Despite the backlash to the letter, faculty organized to  show their support for Palestine and for students who were organizing. Catia Confortini, Professor of Peace and Justice Studies and a member of Wellesley FJP, spoke about the goals of the organization.

“We [wanted] to do something more concrete, that we could establish a presence that would support students and that would stand for the right to speak on an urgent political and moral issue and to take a stand, and support students,” she said. “The one thing we tried to do [previously] was the teach-in on Oct. 26. It was an initiative started by faculty and then it was taken over and regulated by administration.”

Wendy* was heartened by the formation of the FJP because she had noted the silence from faculty before. 

“From what I’ve experienced and what my friends have experienced, faculty has been on the whole really silent and I think that’s been confusing and frustrating for students because it doesn’t feel like the campus community on the faculty level has been very supportive thus far,” she said. “I know that in the few cases that faculty have spoken out they faced a lot of repercussions from administration but also from fellow students.”

Confortini echoed this concern, and noted that the reluctance to speak about Palestine at all was for fear of losing job security, for both tenured and non-tenure track faculty alike. 

“At Wellesley, in general, it is difficult to talk about difficult topics,” she said. “Nevertheless, Palestine is still the exception because of the equation of anything that is critical of the state of Israel to antisemitism. I do know there is a Title VI investigation, and faculty have been called in about it.” 

Both Wendy and Confortini also indicated surprise at the relative lack of protest and demonstrations from Wellesley students. Confortini specifically hoped that the FJP could show students that support is there from faculty on campus.

“We haven’t had a demonstration at Wellesley since last semester,” Confortini noted. “I think that our students suffer from the same kind of feeling that we’re being policed and shut down, and that we might be retaliated against.” 

Wendy holds similar hopes for the FJP, in that it might make students feel safer speaking out, knowing that faculty are supporting them.

“It’s difficult to organize to begin — what platforms can we use that are safe? How do we keep each other safe? I feel like the absence [of protest] is related to all of the repercussions students have been experiencing,” she said. “I don’t really know the best way forward or the best way to bring people together so I think the FJP will be able to provide affirmation for students that organizing is okay and that we do have support on this campus because that’s been really lacking.”

*Student was given a pseudonym to maintain anonymity and protect her identity.

Since then, I have seen numerous examples of how different these children’s lives are compared to the lives of my sisters: the mother holding her baby boy wrapped in a white cloth stained with his blood, crying out, “I took 580 injections to have him,” 13-year-old Alma screaming to rescuers under the rubble of her home that they should get her family out first, the 5-year-old daughter of Doaa Abuajwa who celebrated her birthday days before Abuajwa was murdered. 

On Nov. 18, “The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes” arrived in theaters, leading to the original “The Hunger Games” series experiencing something of a renaissance, as fans reflected on how Katniss, the revolutionary protagonist, inspired them. They noted Katniss’s defiance when facing the Capitol, and her refusal to fit in the boxes they made for her through their dehumanizing propaganda and portrayal of the Hunger Games as entertainment for Capitol viewers. 

As a reader and a writer, I have never wavered in my belief that words and stories have the power to move anyone. It is the crux of why I write, in the hopes that my words may spark a change. But then I see people watching the new installment of The Hunger Games while ignoring the parallels of the dystopian novels we read growing up with the real world, especially today. 

How anyone could have read any of the Hunger Games books or watched the films and is unable to see how similarly dystopian our world is today baffles me. Or is it just because Katniss is white (at least in the films) that you can justify her resistance against the Capitol?

“The Hunger Games” was in part inspired by the dissonance the author Suzanne Collins noted in flipping through TV channels between footage of the Iraq War and reality TV. The sheer lack of awareness demonstrated in going through business as usual while hundreds of thousands of people were killed in a war justified by lies and propaganda from US media pushed Collins to create a world that reflected that disconnect. People in the Capitol lived in luxury, protected from the brutality of the oppression they perpetuated by their wealth and disconnect from the rest of their country. The people of the districts were starved and impoverished as a result of the Capitol’s extraction of resources and occupation. 

We in the United States, in the belly of the beast, live such privileged lives, but at an unconscionable cost. Our taxes pay for the ongoing genocide in Palestine and violence perpetrated by the United States abroad. The dissonance between the life I am living, and the life that Palestinians are fighting to preserve is perpetuated by the lack of action from people around the world, especially in the West.

We are the Capitol. 

We are the ones who have been lulled into complacency by propaganda that dehumanizes Palestinians and desensitizes us to violence against them. We are the ones that can live in luxury as people around the world suffer, not only in Palestine, but also in Sudan, the Congo, Afghanistan, Yemen and more.

But just as the tributes in the Hunger Games had to prove that they were just like everyone else, and that they were worth fighting for just like everyone else, the people of Gaza are fighting their own dehumanization, forced to film what should be private moments of mourning so that the rest of the world may see their humanity. Journalists on the ground like Motaz Azaiza, Bisan Owda, Plestia Alaqad and Wael el-Dahdouh are forced to turn their cameras on their people and themselves as they lose family, friends, their homes and livelihoods. 

If you were enraged for the districts as Katniss showed how the Capitol bombed a hospital full of innocent civilians, were you enraged for the Palestinians as they showed the bombings of Al-Shifa Indonesian Hospital, the International Eye Care Center, the Turkish-Palestinian Friendship Hospital and the al-Quds Hospital too? 

The people who are telling the stories on the ground are also being targeted for daring to tell a narrative different from what Israel paints them to be. On Dec. 7, Dr. Refaat Alareer, a professor of English who also believed in the power of words to change minds was murdered in a surgical strike, along with his family. His last poem “If I must die” was a chilling last message from a man who lived and breathed the power of stories. 

He wrote, “If I must die / Let it bring hope / Let it be a tale.” 

Almost 18,000 people in Gaza have been martyred as a result of the ongoing escalation. Several thousands more have been injured, and many are still under the rubble of their homes and their places of refuge. Along with its people, Gaza’s archives and universities have also been bombed. The main public library of Gaza City, which had thousands of historical archives and books, was also destroyed. Not only are Palestinian lives being brutally taken, so are their stories and histories. 

The killing of poets, writers and activists who dared to describe the genocide as it is, and to show the consequences of the brutal blockade of food, medicine and humanitarian aid is intentional. Israel is threatened by people who resist through their words, which is why it is so important for people in the West to read and understand their stories. 

This is why the cognitive dissonance in the people who praised protagonists like Katniss but declaim resistance in every real-life situation like in the Hunger Games frustrates me. They fetishize revolution as nothing more than an aesthetic, but do not apply the lessons they should have learned from those stories to their own lives. If it were real life, they wouldn’t praise Katniss and her compatriots as heroes. 

The dystopia in “The Hunger Games” is not as far away as we would like to think, and it is a direct result of the inaction of many people who praise revolution only in fiction, but not when real lives are at stake. We in the US have the responsibility to do the bare minimum: share the stories of those on the ground and fight for their liberation. Our privilege is protected by the oppression the US perpetuates abroad, and we will have to sacrifice something for a path to a free Palestine.

This is a fundamental misunderstanding of how affirmative action and any type of race-conscious admissions system works. Race is not the only factor that is considered, but one which provides context to every other.

I have grown up quite privileged throughout my life. I had the privilege of going to a well-funded public school that provided opportunities I would not have gotten in the district right next to ours. My parents could afford to pay for SAT prep classes, could drive me to the library where I used to volunteer, and to the office where I used to intern. My parents can afford to pay for my college tuition. 

My parents, two Indian immigrants, who have worked long and hard to get to where they are have put my sisters and I at an advantage many don’t have. 

I now attend one of the most prestigious liberal arts colleges in the country, and it is because of all the opportunities and comforts I was provided with as a result of my parents’ education and employment, and of course, their hard work. 

The children of Asian immigrants complaining about the fact that affirmative action is taking away the opportunities that they worked for ignore the fact that their parents would never have made it here had it not been for the people who affirmative action is meant to benefit.

We would not have been here without the Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965 that was passed because of the activism of Black people, who led the Civil Rights Movement. The Immigration Act allowed for highly educated professionals to immigrate to the U.S. Affirmative action first came about as an idea proposed by the Kennedy administration to address systemic discrimination in education and employment, but the current definition of affirmative action is the consideration of race as a factor in admissions to higher education institutions, like Harvard College/University. Asian Americans were brought here specifically because of their educational and professional achievements, so many of them came here already a step up in class and wealth from other minority groups already in the US, who have been historically targets of systemic racism.

The Asians complaining about affirmative action also do not acknowledge the diversity within the Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) group, and the fact that AAPIs have the highest wealth gap of any group in the US. Members of the upper middle or higher classes are more likely to have the time to focus on college applications and SAT prep, so Students for Fair Admissions’ claims don’t even apply to all AAPIs. The students and parents complaining about affirmative action clearly are well-off enough to have time to advocate against it. 

For Black and Latinx students, whom affirmative action is designed to benefit most, this is not the case. An admission to Harvard College/University for some members of marginalized groups could be life-changing. They have been historically underrepresented in these institutions, and suffer from systemic discrimination and disadvantages. Affirmative action is not a perfect solution, but it is one step to get them to a position where they can find opportunities beyond what they would be able to otherwise. Considering their race and their context is crucial to understanding the opportunities they have been denied. Having more diversity in a student body is a step towards overcoming systemic discrimination.

Comparatively, APPI students are given more chances in primary school and high school because of their identity, according to research from scholars Min Zhou and Jennifer Lee. AAPI students were assumed to be hard workers and intelligent because of the stereotypes that people hold of Asians.

Curiously, Students for Fair Admissions doesn’t have similar complaints about unqualified applicants when it comes to legacy admissions. Legacy admissions by definition puts white applicants at an advantage, since it is mostly white people who have been historically allowed in these institutions.

Deciding to pit ourselves against Black and Latinx students, who have been extremely underrepresented in these institutions, is only helping to exacerbate the problem. A history of white supremacy and discrimination in these institutions is the real problem, and this will not be addressed if we decide to target affirmative action as the reason opportunities are taken away from us.

While affirmative action is definitely a step in the right direction to level the playing field in higher education, the uncompromising defense of it also does perpetuate the problematic assumption that equal opportunity in education is the only solution to addressing the ways in which Black, Latinx and other minority groups have suffered from systemic racism. Any member of a minority group is deserving of a better life and equality in any situation, and that will only come from truly addressing systemic racism throughout everything: housing, mass incarceration, employment opportunities and education.

Mahere moved back to Zimbabwe in 2011 after graduating, with the intention of starting her own practice. She became a leading activist in the #ThisFlag movement in 2016, which called for reforms and holding the ruling party accountable for their infringement of constitutional rights in Zimbabwe. She joined protests and was even arrested and held overnight in jail for her activism. In 2017, she launched her campaign for parliament as an independent candidate. She was not able to defeat the candidates from the two leading parties, but looks back on her campaign as a lesson.

“People said, ‘Look, you’re investing so much in this campaign; what if you lose?’ We said, ‘We won’t lose. We’ll win or we’ll learn.’ And boy did we learn,” she said. “It’s after that campaign that I started to rearrange my approach to politics … [People didn’t] just want a local politician, [they wanted someone] to join the others and collaborate. That’s when I joined the main opposition and that was me bouncing back.”

Mahere believes in social media as a very important tool to create change, but to her, it is not the only effective one, as she used both social media and grassroots activism for her election campaign.

“You [need to] remain a politician that’s grounded within the people. You can’t be an effective politician from your office on Twitter. That’s just not the way it works,” she said. “You really have to be in touch with your grassroots … with the young people, your women, your communities, your special interest groups, and you have to use all the multiple layers of engagement. But social media is instant and spreads really fast, and you’ve got almost absolute control of how the message comes out.”

According to Mahere, another drawback of social media is that it is not capable of maintaining sustained activism. While it can be effective in spreading a message, organizers need more to maintain consistent pressure on leaders to make change.

“Movement politics is very important. Citizen activism is always how you strike the match, from Black Lives Matter to Occupy Wall Street,” she said. “But all those things fizzle out if they’re not underpinned by sustainable citizen action over time, the very rudimentary grassroots organizing of communities together.”

Mahere also believes that true change comes from being involved in the spheres where policy is made.

“I think one of the big lessons that I learned after being an activist was that more is needed. Power is not negotiated in activism, it is negotiated in politics,” she said. “If you want to change things sustainably, you have to get involved in politics … If you don’t get involved in politics, the price you pay is that you are being governed by people who are less competent.”

 Mahere spent most of her day at Wellesley College attending a luncheon where Africana Studies students had the opportunity to ask her questions about her career, and ending her day speaking at the event held in Collins Cinema. The event was open to the public, and Mahere spoke about her journey as an “unlikely” politician in Zimbabwe, and how she dealt with the constant challenges she has faced as a young woman in politics at such a high level. She called on students and the Wellesley community to put the spotlight back on Zimbabwe, since international attention left after the former President, Robert Mugabe, was removed, but injustice in Zimbabwe continues under the ruling party. Mahere was particularly inspired by students at Wellesley College.

“The learning atmosphere is inspiring. I completely understand why so many of the [students] are so excited to be here and are so passionate about the work that they do,” she said. “[These are] conversations that take society forward. This is a space for them to think through the world and to formulate ideas around important and critical issues that affect them, and really push the boundaries to transform society.”

“I introduced the HistoryMakers Digital Archive to the College as part of my impassioned vocation to humanize, diversify and harmonize the complexion and tone of the curriculum and to undo the perils of Western miseducation from within the walls of the academy,” she said. “The African continent is the birthplace of humanity and cradle of civilization. African peoples, therefore, have been  the progenitors of the spoken and written word. Sadly, through the harrowing passages of slavery and colonialism, the dynamic lives, stories and revolutionary contributions of African peoples have been maligned, misrepresented and underrespresented across Western media and institutions of learning.” 

Professor Fitzpatrick discovered The HistoryMakers through someone featured in the archive — Val Gray Ward, an artistic director, cultural activist and producer. Ward is a lifelong mentor of Julieanna Richardson, the archive’s founder and president. Professor Fitzpatrick met Richardson at Ward’s 89th birthday, prompting Professor Fitzpatrick to encourage Wellesley to subscribe to the database. Professor Fitzpatrick was also awarded the HistoryMakers 2022-2023 Faculty Innovations in Pedagogy & Teaching Fellowship.

“It is a robust pedagogical tool and centralized platform for documenting, amplifying, and preserving our-stories. The archive marries African indigenous pedagogies [of oral histories] with the evolution of digital technology, a powerful combination in the name and spirit of posterity,” she said. “Its interdisciplinary content and core objectives align with Wellesley’s mission to foster inclusive learning, teaching, and excellence.”

Izzy Torkornoo ’23 is a student ambassador for the archive for the 2022-2023 academic year and was encouraged to apply by Professor Fitzpatrick.

“I initially got involved with [the archive] through my application process for the position,” she said. “In terms of its initial interest on campus, it was all rooted in the Africana Studies department and what we knew to be true about the archive, which is that by having access to the largest digital archive of African American oral histories, you expand what the academy and elite institutions deem legitimate history.” 

Torkornoo believes that the archive is uniquely powerful in expanding this idea of what is “legitimate history.”

“I’ve read research from incredible Black scholars that is absolutely vital and important. I’ve read research conducted about Black people and about Black communities,” she said. “But what is really revolutionary and life-giving about the HistoryMakers is you’re hearing people in their own words … you get access directly to their [stories] as primary and valid and legitimate history, when historically and intentionally that has been denied from Black people in this country.”

Torkornoo and Professor Fitzpatrick both believe that the archive has interdisciplinary value. Professor Fitzpatrick has included the archive in her classes, and Torkornoo believes that it is especially important for STEM courses, naming Dr. Vivian Penn ’63, a trailblazing doctor and educator, as an example of someone who could inspire students.

“I can’t stress enough that I think every department at Wellesley has a lot of room for the HistoryMakers. I think they should see it as something that is going to just elevate the level of academic experience that they can offer,” she said. “I really think that STEM departments on this campus could really use the HistoryMakers as a source, because what I have heard is sometimes there isn’t always room afforded for hearing narrative directly from Black people who have been ground-breaking in their fields.”

One of the stories that resonated most with Torkornoo was that of Willis Bing Davis, an artist and educator, who went to visit Gorée Island in Dakar, Senegal, which was the largest slave-trading center in West Africa. Davis spoke of how he realized the horrors his ancestors lived through, and that he was “a strong person from strong people.” This reminded Torkornoo of how her grandmother instilled this same strength in her.

“I’m a first-generation American from West Africa, and a big thing that has always been instilled in me, something my grandma, especially, has always been very adamant about, is that we as African people and people of African descent are valid, powerful, the originators, trailblazers and brilliant,” she said. “She is aware that that is not always acknowledged, but my grandma knows that that is the truth.”

Torkornoo also emphasized that she is available as a resource to any and every student on campus that wants to learn more about the archive and centering Black voices.

“I want us all to commit to making the longevity of the history makers on this campus a top priority,” she said. “When we talk about equitable learning and inclusion, we’re committing to really centering Black people and Black students and their narratives. Centering [these] oral histories is one of the necessary steps in ensuring that our spaces do just that.”

According to Dean of Religious and Spiritual Life Jacquelina Marquez, the delay in hiring a new Hindu chaplain was due to a hiring freeze starting in Spring 2020. Dean Marquez noted a sense of relief amongst students and the staff of the Office of Religious and Spiritual Life and students with the hiring of Chaplain Saha, but also two new chaplains: Natalie Malter, the new Unitarian Universalist Affiliate Chaplain, and Tonia Petty, the new Harambee House Affiliate Chaplain.

“Right when we were about to post these positions on our human resources site, the pandemic hit and I think we all just went into survival mode,” she said. “I think as a staff, we felt a little bit incomplete because we had these three vacant spots that we couldn’t fill but now I think with Chaplain Rumni, Chaplain Natalie and Chaplain Tonia, it feels like we’re complete now.”

Dean Marquez also directed students to the  Why Talk to a Chaplain?  and  Avoiding Unhealthy Religious Organizations on the Office of Religious Life’s website for support. She also emphasized that Chaplains are a confidential resource and are available to students for a range of issues.

Chaplain Saha holds a masters degree in education from Boston University, and is currently pursuing a masters in divinity from BU’s College of Theology. She identifies as a Hindu, a Unitarian Universalist and a Humanist. As Hindu chaplain, she hopes to bring more of Hinduism’s pluralism and inclusivity to Wellesley.

“I definitely hope to make Darshana vibrant again,” she said. “My hope is that I’m going to bring the pluralism and inclusivity [of Hinduism] to the Wellesley community. I want others to understand the wisdom and the richness of Hinduism.”

Although Chaplain Saha did join late in the Spring semester, she hopes to get to know student groups and the community here better in order to be ready as a resource for students in the fall of 2022.

“[I’ve been] talking to people like the international students office, and just about every community on campus,” she said. “I’m trying to exactly what the needs are and what would be relevant so that I can plan better for the fall.”

While Chaplain Saha is not at the status of a full chaplain yet, she and Dean Marquez both hope for her to be a resource for students regularly. Dean Marquez also noted the limitations of the ORSL budget in hiring new staff. Of the seven chaplains on the staff, only one is full-time.

“ORSL depends heavily on donations,” she said. “We, for many years, have been heavily funded primarily by donations from alumnae, [and] from donors that find out about our work. That’s wonderful in one sense that people care about our work and are excited in supporting us. On the other hand, when donations go down for a reason, like during the pandemic, donations went down everywhere, and it’s hard to kind of function when ORSL depends that much on it.”

Chaplain Saha also hopes to dispel some misconceptions about Hinduism in her time at Wellesley.

“There’s a lot of conflation — not just on this campus — because of what is happening in India, of Hinduism with Hindutva, which [has] hijacked the basic tenets of Hinduism,” she said. “I always say that I’m a big believer in honest and open conversations. It doesn’t mean that we can always come to an agreement or a consensus, but it’s really important to have those conversations to understand what somebody is thinking and where they’re coming from.”

ORSL student worker Riya Balachandran ’24 also hoped that Chaplain Saha would bring a more progressive perspective to Wellesley’s Hindu community, after having had conversations with her already.

“It was really good to talk about how she wanted to include more activism in the Hindu community,” she said. “[Chaplain Saha] was talking about relations between the Hindu and Muslim communities, our positionality on issues like Black Lives Matter and like other social justice movements and increasing social justice in the Hindu community.”

Darshana e-board member Kavya Parameswar ’24 added that, in interviewing Chaplain Saha, she found that Chaplain Saha’s perspective was “absolutely perfect” for Wellesley, as she has previously done work to talk about diversity and inclusivity in the Hindu community.

“People just associate Hinduism with being Indian, and obviously that’s not right because India is a very secular country, and there’s a whole diaspora of Hindu identities,” Parameswar said. “That’s another thing we wanted to make sure, was that the chaplain would be willing to talk to any student of any Hindu identity and be able to accept them, even if they weren’t just Indian Hindus.”

Chaplain Saha also added that she believed Hinduism is generally misunderstood.

“People think that [Hinduism] is just worshiping all these deities, [that] it’s idol worship, but it’s actually a monotheistic religion,” she said. “No matter how you practice, whether you are, Christian or Muslim, for example, we’re all kind of different rivers going into the same stream.”

Chaplain Saha also noted that she is here at Wellesley to be a resource for students and wanted to focus on making Darshana a more active organization.

“I feel like the students are just looking for an anchor,” she said. “They’re looking for a space where they can belong, [which] they can call their own, where they can come in and not feel like they are being understood… Students are really looking for someone to not just advocate on their own behalf but just an adult to be there and oversee and kind of cheer them on.”

Parameswar also added that she hopes for Chaplain Saha to be a source of support for Hindu students at Wellesley.

“Rumni will be someone to talk to,” Parameswar said. “She’s just another [person] who can make you feel at home on campus. You shouldn’t be afraid to talk to her about anything. A lot of people go back to their religion when they’re in really tough times.”

“I saw people posting about this, and people having questions and I thought it was really helpful to keep people talking about this,” she said. “I just got really concerned once I saw how many people were starting to participate in this discussion.”

Leovan was not the only Wellesley student concerned by the amount of people who were sick from food from the Wellesley dining halls. Sophie Lemmerman ’22 felt as if every other person got food poisoning.

“I have been at Wellesley for four years now, and I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said. “[For me], it hasn’t been anything bad. I haven’t thrown up or anything, but it’s definitely food poisoning because an hour or so after I eat, I will just feel awful, and my stomach [will be] cramping and hurting for the next day.”

Students attempted to organize to call on the Wellesley administration to take action regarding the food poisonings. Leovan met with Julie Jordan, the director of Wellesley Fresh, to voice some of her concerns, but did not see the results she wanted.

“It seems to be a lot of making you feel heard, [but] then I fail to see the follow up action,” she said. “I know there’s a research component to this, [and] a data collection component, but this shouldn’t fall on students. It shouldn’t be us collecting all the data and presenting it to them.”

Leovan’s experience with inaction from the administration, specifically regarding Wellesley Fresh, is one that is reflected in Victoria Cottrell’s ’22 experience as well. Cottrell was diagnosed with celiac disease during her senior year of high school and chose Wellesley specifically because Wellesley Fresh was advertised as being conscious and inclusive of those with dietary restrictions like hers. However, when she came to Wellesley, she found that her needs were not met. 

“I very quickly learned that there aren’t as many options as Wellesley Fresh claimed for students who need to eat gluten free,” she said. “There weren’t as many options, for one thing, and the gluten-sensitive room was never fully stocked. Even though they tend to make claims of there being little cross-contamination in the dining halls and that they try to limit it as much as possible, they don’t really [actually do it].”

For Cottrell and others with severe allergies and dietary restrictions, even the slightest cross-contamination can result in severe illness. Cottrell did not blame the dining hall workers themselves but believed it was the responsibility of management to ensure that workers were educated about the dietary restrictions they had to accommodate. She struggled also because items would often be mislabeled, in the Clarity stations and in the gluten-sensitive room as well. 

“[It got] to the point where there has been food with gluten placed in the gluten-sensitive room, because they had not checked whether it was gluten free,” she said. “It becomes kind of a nightmare, where you’re kind of just playing Russian roulette with your gut. You can’t trust any of the food that’s being put into your mouth.”

Once the pandemic began, dining hall options were even more limited. The Bates gluten-sensitive room was closed until Nov. 16, 2020, and there was no Clarity station in Lulu until Dec. 6. Both of these provisions were only placed in dining halls after Cottrell appealed to the administration. Eventually, Cottrell was given the option to get off the meal plan, and she took it simply because of her exhaustion from having to advocate for herself for so long.

“At this point, I was kind of done with Wellesley Fresh. It’s just very, very tiring to have to be your own self’s advocate all the time,” she said. “You’re always questioning the safety of the food you’ve been given. I didn’t want to be paying thousands of dollars to be receiving very meager options in comparison to others. [Getting off the meal plan] was not something I wanted to do, but I am very glad I did.”

While Cottrell understands the frustration students are having with the dining halls right now, she was disappointed in how quickly students organized to advocate for better food for themselves, when students with celiac disease and severe allergies had been struggling for so long. 

“When I hear about things like food poisoning from other students, and the swift reaction that that’s getting from College Government and the administration, it makes me kind of disappointed because a lot of students with very, very severe things [suffer from reactions] that are not just a day of feeling sick, [but] have long-term repercussions,” she said. “It disappoints me because there should have been a lot more of a reaction from the administration, when students have come forward in the past saying that they’ve gone hungry.”

Leovan also agreed that students should have been more aware of others who were not being listened to by the administration.

“I think we’re actually seeing the natural extension of that because we didn’t advocate for them enough ourselves,” she said. “And now we’re seeing that these problems are extending. They’re now our problems too, and we failed to stop it [then].”

While neither the administration nor students have been able to identify a specific cause of the food poisoning, students reported instances of coming across limited supply options as well as bad produce. Christina Kurre ’23 had also gotten food poisoning early in February, but was not severely ill, although she knew of several friends who had been. Kurre came across an atypical problem when trying to get breakfast from Bates on Feb. 28: the dining hall had completely run out of milk.

“I talked to [the dining hall workers] and they were completely out of milk. I was like ‘Oh my gosh, how can you be out of milk?’” she said. “I mean, that’s just such a basic thing to have in a kitchen. Apparently that day they also had to use frozen eggs to make breakfast. They just made it seem like they just had nothing.”

Lemmerman also noted that the food poisoning may have been caused by bad produce, noting that she had seen rotten cucumbers in Lulu on Feb. 21.

“The cucumbers were literally rotten in Lulu,” she said. “They were brown and gooey and they smelled bad, so I didn’t eat them, obviously. I was pretty disgusted, [since] that’s probably the most explicitly bad the food has ever been.”

Jordan spoke about changes to the dining halls to Senate on March 7, and said that there had been supply chain issues for some time now. She also emphasized in a statement to The News on Feb. 28 that food safety is a top priority for the dining hall. 

“We take food and physical safety very seriously and have extensive safety policies and procedures in place to ensure our dining facilities are impeccably maintained, exceed health department standards and meet our own advanced safety standards,” she wrote. “If a student is feeling ill, gastrointestinal or otherwise, they should seek immediate medical attention by contacting health services for diagnosis and treatment.”

However, when asked about the problems with mislabeled items in the dining hall, Jordan responded that the information online is not always consistent with what is actually available. She also noted that sometimes items that are mislabeled are more likely not to have the allergen, rather than the actual allergens themselves not being labeled. Cottrell was disappointed with how Jordan approached this issue.

“Jordan mentions that the allergen information online might not be accurate. The problem with that is that students with allergies won’t be able to know in advance what dining halls have options for them,” she said. “She also notes that allergen mistakes are usually ones that the dish does not include, but that just seems like she’s trying to brush off inaccurate labeling altogether. … The options she listed for students with allergies and celiac are all lacking in nutritious options and students have told them this multiple times. The Clarity station is only open for lunch and dinner; the Bates GS Room does not even consistently have hot meals in it. Even those options are not entirely safe, especially for those of us with a lot of sensitivity to allergens.”

While each interviewee noted that the food poisonings and general problems in the dining halls necessitated action from the Wellesley administration, they did not express much optimism about any action being taken.

Kurre expressed her low expectations from the administration as well, noting that any changes will likely not be implemented for some time.

“I don’t think in any of our time at Wellesley, even [for] the first years, I don’t think we’ll see a change,” she said. “It’s possible that they’ll change it gradually, but I think this is such a continual issue that [it is] not going to change quick enough for [us to see] the benefits. Maybe some of us won’t get food poisoning next year.” 

“There is a sociopolitical context to everything, especially the historical context of the African American community in this country. It is a group that is disproportionately affected by institutionalized policies and law enforcement policies —all the while having historically and routinely seen their culture stolen, exploited and appropriated by the *dominant* culture for monetary gain without acknowledgement nor respect for where those roots come from, the pioneers of its beginnings and the artists that perfected and mastered the craft,” she writes.

This doesn’t really seem controversial (yet), and since it was posted in the month of February which is Black History Month, you could make the assumption that it was a somewhat long-winded way of acknowledging Black History Month and the history of how non-Black Americans appropriate Black culture. If you did not know much about Awkwafina, you would not notice the glaringly obvious lack of acknowledgment of Lum’s part in this pattern of appropriation. Nowhere in this long-winded statement does she apologize for her role in appropriating Black culture. 

Lum has also been called out in the past over comments (or lack thereof) regarding her appropriation of Black culture, and using a “blaccent” (most apparent in “Crazy Rich Asians” and “Ocean’s 8”). Her ignorance was particularly glaring when she spoke about the roles she refused that were based on Asian stereotypes in an interview with Vice in 2017. 

“I’m not OK with someone writing [about] the Asian experience for an Asian character. Like that’s annoying and I make it very clear, I don’t ever go out for auditions where I feel like I’m making a minstrel out of our people,” she said.

I do not think I need to pontificate further on the crystal-clear hypocrisy in this statement. She has a problem with portraying the Asian experience in a way that feeds into stereotypes, but has no problem doing so with the Black experience. 

Lum also pointed out in her statement on Twitter that she grew up watching and consuming media with Black people, and was thus shaped by it, including her love for hip-hop. She had no real Asian role models to look up to, so she looked up to the people whose experience she saw as close to her own. Children of the ’90s and ’00s may certainly only have had Black people as the only non-white representation in media, and I would understand it if it were just in their adolescence where they just weren’t aware of the problematic nature of shaping their identity on Black culture. But Awkwafina is now 33 years old and has not once acknowledged her past mistakes beyond merely saying “it is a conversation that needs to be had.” What seems to escape our understanding, however, is that we can’t just use Black culture to find our own identity just because we think the only two options are Black or white. 

I understand the struggle to figure out your identity as a child of immigrants in America who speak another language, and having to be comfortable with not quite fitting the image of the “typical American” (read: white). I get it, I really do. But just because we are struggling with our own identity does not mean we get to appropriate someone else’s. 

Awkwafina is not the only Asian American to partake in this pattern. Lilly Singh, NAV, Rich Brian and many others have appropriated AAVE and Black culture for their rap or their comedy. Lilly Singh also posted on Instagram a series of pictures of her with Black celebrities, and a long, winding caption talking about how she grew up on TV shows and movies with Black people, in honor of Black History Month. Rich Brian, an Indonesian rapper, used to go by the name “Rich Chigga.” NAV used the n-word in his songs frequently until at least 2017. 

Beyond just celebrities, this is a pattern I have seen within my own community as well. Under the guise of “appreciating hip-hop”, there will be South Asians who try to “act Black” in an attempt to distance themselves from whiteness. This is also common because of how much “Gen-Z slang” is made up of appropriations of AAVE (bestie, girl, sis, finna, the habitual “be”), so it becomes difficult to differentiate between what is just slang and what is an appropriation of AAVE. I am not absolving myself of any mistakes in the past either, since I have also only recently begun paying much more attention to the words I use and where they come from, especially online.

But with many people in my community of South Asian Americans, especially my community in my suburb of Albany, New York (where I know they aren’t regularly hanging out with more than maybe two Black people at a time), their extent of interactions with Black people and Black culture is most often media — whether it be music, TV shows or movies. At school, they’ll talk in a way they think is “cool.” At home, not a chance. 

I don’t need to be an expert on the nuances of cultural appropriation to know that South Asians should not be saying the n-word (no, not even in songs). There is certainly some subjectivity (the n-word not included) in the line between appropriation and appreciation, and scholars like Nitasha Sharma (an actual expert) in her book “Hip-Hop Desis” would likely point out that some of these cases of South Asians specifically in hip-hop would qualify as “appropriation as identification” rather than “appropriation as othering”; a tribute rather than a performance of a caricature of Blackness. There is also a long history of cultural exchange between the South Asian and Black communities, as well as Asian Americans in general with Black people. 

This shared history and cultural exchange does not erase the part Asian Americans have played in the oppression of Black people and the appropriation of Black culture. It should not be on Black people or communities to have to point out the rather basic conclusion that appropriating a different community’s culture and language is wrong. It is easier for us as children of immigrants to build wealth than it is for Black people who have faced systemic barriers we do not for generations. We don’t get to appropriate a culture they have fought for generations to protect.

We know what it feels like to be used for our culture and our traditions to be taken from us and warped for someone else’s uses and will call it out swiftly, so why do we do it to anyone else? 

We also tend to claim solidarity based on our shared struggle against white supremacy and the consequences of colonization and imperialism. We should absolutely acknowledge our shared struggles, and unite to move past them. Most of us children of immigrants would not have been here without the Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965 that was passed because of the activism in the Civil Rights Movement. 

But we also tend to equate our oppression with that of Black people and communities — which is absolutely wrong. Black people in this country are disproportionately impacted by law enforcement policies and systemic racism, far more than we as Asian Americans are. Not only do they face systemic racism, Black people also face the colorism that is rampant in Asian American communities as well. Just because we are fighting a similar fight, does not mean we are fighting the same one. 

As Professor of Africana Studies Kellie Carter-Jackson pointed out to me, “There’s only one reason Awkwafina could use AAVE and find it acceptable if not advantageous, and that’s because the culture and Hollywood sanctioned it. In the end, these debates become a distraction. Black people and Asian people are both getting pummeled by white supremacy. Solidarity is how we get free.”

Professor Carter-Jackson is correct in that Hollywood and celebrity culture makes it so that using AAVE is advantageous to non-Black people. But solidarity — true solidarity — will only occur when we South Asian Americans and Asian Americans in general are able to recognize that our struggles against white supremacy are similar to Black people’s, but not the same. People of color face a lot of systemic barriers and prejudice, bigger issues than cultural appropriation, but if we cannot recognize our part in appropriating something as fundamental to us as language itself, how are we going to substantively change anything for any of us? The only way we build solidarity between our communities is when we learn to be much more conscious of our actions and our language. Then our advocacy for equity will be truly inclusive of all of us — Asian Americans and Black people alike.