White, Black, Discrimination, and An Indonesian in Between

Just like the author, my husband had a biracial daughter and biracial son. Oddly enough, I don't think any of the author's concern ever popped up in any of our conversation regarding the children's future. They are both light-skinned, but he assured me that anyone with black ancestry could easily figure out that they come from black descendant. Nevertheless we are more worried about how they can cope up with the already difficult and sometimes nonsense life in America, and more importantly, how they can open their eyes and accept the world in all its glory. Their mothers are accomplished women on their own, I guess that's also one of the reason why we wasn't that worried. 

Being an immigrant, it's always difficult to read about things like this. If we are talking about discrimination, frisking, and all that jazz, I would like to point out that I have to have my green card with me all the time when I am in the state of Arizona. I don't think Iggy Azalea would have that problem even though she was an illegal immigrant for 6 years. A friend of ours who is a Hispanic descendants told us she was frequently stopped at border patrol station, and at times even have to explain on how she was driving with a truck that was registered under somebody else's name (which is her husband). She is a natural-born American. My cousin wanted to take the Greyhound bus to visit me in LA, I urged him to think twice and look for other alternatives because I am very afraid that he would get harassed and bothered during the lengthy (more than 24 hours) trip. I went on a bus ride in Los Angeles and there was an intoxicated young black man busy harassing a Hispanic woman, calling her names and such. It was only a 10 minutes ride. 

Immigrants are always at odds. An agent from the Child Service Agency was positively aghast and in awe when I could answer her back in English and phrase my words more eloquently than she could. But even before I arrive in US, I have been a subject of doubts with many of husband's friends and family tried to talked him out of our relationship because they believe my motive is not love. How is that for prejudice? As for job opportunity, despite my stellar skills and impressive track record I have yet to secure even a single job in US, and only gotten about 3 or 4 interviews so far. I may have applied to the wrong companies for the last 2 months, but the fact is that my other friend from Indonesia has been applying for work since December 2012 and had only acquired one this month, and her field was more specific than mine. She got it only after she took courses in America, despite her own already qualifying education and lengthy job experience in Indonesia. It's like catch 22: I can get a job if I can show I have the experience, but how can I have the experience without getting a job first? This sounds unfair, and it is. Can I considered this as racism? I can, but I would choose not to. It sucks, but I am aware that if I were in their shoes, I would also thought hard about choosing someone from a country that I never even knew existed; even someone with American education and job experience can be a bit dim, why risk with someone who had none?  

Discrimination with a hint of slavery is not unfamiliar for Indonesia people. Some Indonesian, thanks to the Dutch that colonized (read: take over our land, enslaved our people, and dried out our resources for their own profit) Indonesia for more than 350 years, still have the slave-master mentality. These Indonesian think the white men are better than the Indonesian, and adore anything western. A great number of Indonesian celebrities are half Caucasian, people who went to western countries for their education (Australia, US, etc) are also considered more worthy than people who were just educated in Indonesia. I myself have enjoyed this obvious racial prejudice for a while, getting to have a well-paid jobs just because I happen to be fluent in English. To make matter worst, apparently a vast majority (if not all) tourists from western countries still have Allen Quatermain's 1800's way of thinking: that we Indonesian are a bunch of barbaric lawless uneducated people. Stories about how foreign business proprietor treat their local employees in a way that would not be accepted if it's done in their own countries (inhumane, disrespectful, unfair) are dime a dozen in Bali. These foreigners also demanded a higher salary and/or fee than the locals, and they will get it even though some of them work there illegally. I accompanied a western friend to a business meeting where, after he got a little too cozy and apparently forgot that I am Balinese, divulged that he hated Balinese and he thought they were just a group of greedy MFs. The potential clients kept glancing at me in horror and I could tell she was absolutely uncomfortable being caught in that situation. He didn't get the job, of course. 

If at this point you already said in the top of your head, "White man is the worse!" then allow me to rectify that. White man is not the worse. Discrimination is, and it is done not only by white men. Discrimination, or should I say fear for something different, happens everywhere and being done by everyone in this world. It is not only the white that discriminates (me as) an immigrant, the black also did the same, and even in the immigrant circle that would ascertain where you stand in the pecking order. My white husband can easily do all of the 7 points that the author wrote, but get this, people could still complain that he achieve all of that because he is white. "Of course he could get that education, he is white. Of course he can go anywhere he wants, he is white. Of course he can protest, he is white." Which sounds like a discrimination to me. You know what he can't do? He can't walked in a predominantly black or Hispanic neighborhood without looking so out of place and worried he'd get mugged or harmed. This is not a baseless fear, he can't even walked in LA without somebody asking him for change, while I can walked about without being bothered. He married a black woman for 10 years and in the end he still doesn't get accepted in the bro clique. When he casually told our waitress in a Colombian restaurant that he was born in Latin America she asked, "How come? You are white!" although to me the waiter looked as fair skinned as he is. He is also a 'target' back in Indonesia, where people charge him for things many times more than they would usually charge the locals because of his skin color. Is this all not discrimination?

When my cousin first came to US, he told me how his fellow student from Africa received harsh discrimination in the suburb area where they live, with people locking their apartment doors whenever the dark-skinned students walked by. It exists. It is painful. It is unfair. The question now, what can we do about it? You can't forced someone to change their perspective towards you, however, you can always offered a new, more favorable perspective. 

A few weeks ago I saw a black woman got denied entry in the Social Security office in Downtown LA because she carried prohibited items in her bag. She was told to leave the items outside the building, and she wasn't taking it. She cussed and insult the officers, even went as far as accusing them to target her and trying to prevent her from completing her business in the office. The officers, naturally, gradually became harsher and harsher towards her with every angry and insulting comments she made. The thing is, I knew for a fact that just a few minutes before her a black woman and her grandma was also denied entry, this time because her stiletto looked like it can be use as a weapon. She manage to resolve it gracefully and got inside in less than five minutes without any voiced raised. A few minutes before her my white husband was also denied entry, this time over a mini screwdriver. And in the morning a white woman was denied entry because she had some lead pipe pieces in her pants. And just before that, I had to go back home because I had accidentally brought a Tasser with me to the office. I was denied entry as well, but the atmosphere were much lighter back then compared to when they were dealing with the angry black woman. If anything, it should be more strenuous because stun gun is actually a dangerous weapon; but I was laughing and being polite all round, and the officers even made jokes with it and invited me to come straight back without waiting in line once I have placed the stun gun in a secure place. Mind you, I look very foreign and anyone who saw me would know instantly that I am not American. Shouldn't I be considered more dangerous than the other 'suspects'?

The story above has two significance. The first is the significance of attitude. Considered yourself in the officers' shoes, which person that you dislike most? Naturally, it would be the angry black woman (even though my stubborn white husband would probably come second since he too was very vocal about having to secure the insignificant screwdriver elsewhere). Then, you would undoubtedly resort to the readily-available stereotyping that black people are violent and unreasonable. It is always easier to generalized people according to the already popular belief, especially if it's a negative belief. It's like saying all Muslim are evil, all white girls drink Starbucks, all straight Christians hate gays, all third-world-country people are uneducated; even if there's only a few people that actually do that in each respective group, it is enough for others to condemn all the group members as a whole. The fact that there was another black woman that was not angry or violent may not even registered in your mind, or if it was registered you would label her as an outlier. 

When I told my cousin that the black people in America scared me, I did not think about my husband's exes or his friends from high school, I did not think about the young man from Mississippi that I helped at a TAP Metro station or the old man that chat with me on the train to Culver City, I did not think about our eccentric neighbor or anyone in LA that has been so generous to me with their smile and assistance. When I told my cousin that the black people in America scared me, I was thinking about the verily drunk man that pulled the zipper on my backpack and went on an expletive-laden tirade because I was apparently blocking his way (I was not) and then proceed to harass my husband, even though he was with his toddler child, for some money. I was thinking about all the other people with smug look in their face when they stopped and asked us for money, even settling with slices of our pizza as if we owed them something. I was thinking about the rap songs that is filled with expletive and violence and glorified criminality. This, mind you, is how someone who is not tainted with American culture sees what's happening in America, how someone who is not brainwashed, so to speak, about white supremacy sees what's happening in America. Attitude matters, I always say to my Muslim friends. It is not enough to quietly disagree with the violent way a very few Muslim behave, they need to speak up and show the world that terrorist way is not equivalent to Islam's way. Can't this be a similar approach to the black people in America?

The second significance from that story is to try to keep your head clear. The angry woman accused that she was targeted, when actually other people had been denied entry as well. I don't know what it's like to live as a black in America, but I know what it's like to live as a minority in Indonesia. When we live in the outskirt of Jakarta where Hindu is minority it is very difficult for us to build temple/praying site, with neighbors looking at the temple in our house as if it was the devil's shrine and some other people throwing human feces to the Hindu community's newly-built main temple, the only one in miles around. The education level in some places in Indonesia were very low, and it makes them an easy target for "Salem Witch" type of riots, where innocents people would be persecuted and harmed if they were from different tribe or religion. In the big 1998 riot, churches and other praying sites were burned, the Indonesian-Chinese were robbed, raped, killed. Even now, there are still religious leaders and groups that spread out false accusations and inflames hatred towards other religion. And yes, the living condition in Indonesia is not as benefiting as the living condition in America. How'd you like that? I didn't froze and lament on my unfortunate situation. I can't (and won't) change the fact that I am not the majority, or the fact that there will be ignorant out there that would harm me if they can. To me, the only option is to keep moving forward, to keep improving myself, because for hell I don't want to be stepped on by anyone. Anger and self-pity won't get you anywhere, because it could work as an excuse when you actually haven't done your best. You just have to keep moving forward and focus on yourself.

One thing that always amazes me is the amount of information and self-education you can easily get in US. Unlike Indonesia, even the smallest libraries here have decent amount of books and Wi-fis are available almost anywhere, and books can even be owned for as little as 50 cent from Friends of The Library. I had to taught myself English through books/songs/movies, Internet is slow and expensive, and books are difficult to come by. At times I would stand for 4 hours just to finish reading a book at the bookstore (because it was too expensive to buy it). Yet here I am in America. My career has been illustrious to say the least: A medical graduates, an English teacher, a wedding consultant for high-end clienteles, and a budding writer that just won her first commendation. Mind you, I was the only dark-skinned person in the ceremony and I heavily suspect I am the only one that is not American as well. If I could do all of this, why can't others? 

For all that matters, it is unfathomable for me and my husband to say: "I wish our child(ren) would stay white" in order for them to be able to do things that my husband could do because of his so-called white privilege. The world is rapidly changing, battles lost and won, wars started and ended. It is far more important for us to teach our children about the dynamics of the world, about how to be good and nice and strong, and how to keep themselves from harm's way. We can't protect them from the ignorant people that could hate them because of, well, anything actually; but we can taught them pride and that mindless haters are just a part of this world as termite and zombie bees (albeit with more annoying quality). Everyone got discriminated one way or another, and it's happening all over the world because the majority of humans right now is a bunch of d*ck who can't come to term with their own insecurity and jealousy. Why fear the inevitable? 

Good Morning Los Angeles

Good morning Los Angeles, I love you today.

For the first time ever I see a cloudy, chilly Los Angeles morning. It seems kinder and less menacing than the usual harsh sunny Los Angeles mornings. It makes me feel good and full of hope. I can do this. I know I can do this.

I like LA for all its worth. It is full of diversity and thriving with life. The downtown area is enchanting and fun, while our little neighborhood is full with families and children's laughter can be heard from the alleyway on sunny afternoons. It is far more alive than any other cities in US that I have ever been to, and so far, far more exciting. There are always new things to do, new museums to visit, new adventures to experienced; it is a place where taking home your pizza in whole is an adventure in itself. But I am so far from all of those. Even though we would roam the city now and then, I stayed home most of the time trying to write and get my life in order. Slowly but sure the loneliness is killing me, and as now I have give up full time writing and focus on trying to get a job instead. I have no friends here that I can talk with in daily basis, and I barely meet anyone except when I go out for an errand. The only way I can be a part of the community again is to join one, yet I am struggling to do so. A job would be an ideal gateway to the community, but I have been wallowing in despair instead. 

I have always seen myself as the dream maker, and I love it. I lured and wowed my clients, promising them a slice of heaven and delivering that promise to them. All of these were achieved with minimal tools/equipment, and with a carte blanche from my superior. I can do whatever I want to do to ensure the customer's satisfaction, so I did. It was creative, it was challenging, it was fun. Yet here in LA, I have yet to see any job vacancy that came even close to what I did back home. Everything seemed so dull and repetitive; and I can't imagine myself, after being so used with making dreams come true, to be another anonymous copying and faxing and filing, or making countless phone calls to 'leads' and tried to assigned them to a service they do not need. I can't help feeling in despair, that from being drive by chauffeur to fancy resorts and helping to make weddings worth thousands of dollars come true, I had to resort in being the small fish, or even tadpole, in the pond. Which I never did in the first place. I had the luck to somehow manage to land myself in good companies, ones that are considered 'better' than their competitors. I am the posh girl, or was.

It is ancient history, though. Here I am, not in Bali or Jakarta. Here my English skill is not my trump card anymore, as it has been since my professional years; here it is a hindrance. Where before I used my English to get my foot in the door and let my professional skills slid by as an afterthought, here I have to convince my future employers about my professional skills and hope they won't make too much fuss about my imperfect English. If I can sell a $1500 short-time photography package by emails only (and to people that live thousands of miles away), then I can 'sell' myself as effective as well. Even if I had to start from the bottom, I know I am smart enough to race myself to the top. I can do this. Isn't it amazing on how big of a difference the mood of the sky could make? I know I won't have such determination if I started the day with the heat of Los Angeles sun blasting through, yet this outcast weather showed me that the city is conquerable, that there is still hope.

I want to do more in this city. I want to be successful in this city, at least successful enough so I can do simple things that I like, such as eating ramen at Little Tokyo or visiting all of Los Angeles' museums. I want to have friends and feel how it is like to be a part of this community, this vibrant city. I want to feel home in this city. All of those require me to snap out from my despair and to conquer my fear, to courageously go where I have never gone before. I am scared, I am frightened, I want to go home. Yet this is my home, at least for now; and I refuse to let life and fear defeat me. I will stumble along the way, crying in despair: "No more, no more", but I will and I have to keep on moving. This is my life. I can make it work. I can do this.

The Not-so-easy English Language

The young man stand erect with confidence and grace. He gave a perfect handshake to his interviewer, not too tight, not too loose, and in just the right amount of time. His interviewer secretly upped his point several mark for his stature and handshake alone. How he hated those people who look slack or too stiff; or those with clammy handshake or worse, the ones that shook his hand like there's no tomorrow. But this one, this young applicant looked like the perfect fit for the job. He gestured the young man to sit and ask, "So tell me about yourself. Why do you apply for this job?". To the interviewer dismay the young man replied in thickly accented broken English, and between his stream of words the interviewer gripped his table tightly and ask in his mind: "Why God, why???"

I can't remember when I started to learn English. I just did. I remember watching the TV shows, both for adults and children. I love Sesame Street, I Dream of Jeannie, Remington Steele, Knight Rider, Brady Bunch, Quantum Leap, all kinds of movies. I also watch music video and hearing songs from the radio, I would listen to them repeatedly and carefully wrote down the lyrics as best as I could. Mind you, it sometimes comes as a jumble, but then I would find the correct lyric in the music magazines and I will go: "Oh so that's what it says!". English books were hard to come by, but it got way easier when I was in my Senior High School. I would borrow English books from my friends and just read it on and on and on. Ah... The good old days.

At Brady Bunch's house

They taught us English at school in Indonesia, so in total we have almost 12 years of English education. Some children would also attend additional English courses to enhance their English. These English lessons helped me to understand the basic English grammar, but to be honest it did not help much in real life. I also taught English for some time, and in lessons (both me as a student and me as a teacher) it is easy to differentiate which tense to be used and the [grammatically] correct way to say it. There are formulas that you can memorize (i.e present tense = He/She/It + Is + Verb -ing), and it worked perfectly in exercises where you can decipher easily which is which and what verb to be use in each sentence. Try doing that in real life (plus repeatedly looking at your tenses formula list) and see how far your English conversation can go. As for reading and writing, it is a whole misery in itself. When I was 12 years old I remember reading mussel just like I read muscle. 10 years later my friend who spends time in USA told me it was read as myu-sel. 20 years later my husband who is an American told me it was read as mas-sel. Ugh. Not to mention the eternal questions such as: where is the L in talk? Why comfortable read as comfterble? Why drink-drank-drunk but cut-cut-cut?

As the video below illustrate, English is indeed a difficult language to master. Thus in my mind anyone whose native tongue is not English but learn to master English as second language deserves respect. They are just like the Engineer who also has a degree in Biology, or the IT major who also has a degree in Law. Sadly, sometimes this achievement go unnoticed. A fellow teacher once said to me she was embarrassed to speak to the foreigners because their English is better than hers. Well yes, I replied, but only because they have learned the language since the day they were born. I always stressed to my students that there is nothing shameful if you made mistake when speaking in English, and pointed out that if a foreigner tries to speak Bahasa Indonesia we would probably think he/she would sound silly as well. It is important to encourage them because the fact of the matter is, as with any other language English can only be mastered by practice. Lots and lots of practice. And even then, things such as accent can not be fully eliminated. 

In USA, where immigrant issue is a big deal, it is only normal to see people got so hung up with less-than-stellar English speaker or with the heavily accented one.  In terms of jobs, it is understandable if companies prefer employees that can speak English fluently, just as they prefer the ones with excellent computer and/or communication skill. This is indeed an English speaking country, so whoever wish to work here has to have a sufficient English skills. Vice versa, if you are a US citizen who happen to work in Indonesia you would also need to learn Bahasa Indonesia in order to survive there and to effectively do your work. As the saying goes, when in Rome do what Roman do. Yet sometimes English fluency can be a source of discrimination, where the more fluent English speaker considered more valuable and respected. When I worked in Bali I noticed that my foreign clients treated me with more respect and I receive far less complain than my other co-worker because my English was better than hers. In perspective, this has more to do with the frustration that one might experience from failed communication (i.e. one or both party can't figure head or tail what the other was saying), and it can happen also with fellow English speakers (imagine an Englishman with Cockney accent trying to speak with an American with Cajun English). Yet sometimes, there will be people who say indignantly, "Why, he/she can't even speak English!" and think lowly of the poor English speaker as if his/her inability to communicate in English is a sign of his/her being less civilized than the native English speaker.

In correlation to the world in general, English is a unifying language. You could go far in this world if you can master it, but it is in no mean superior than other language. To people from countries that use English as their main language, this concept is difficult to understand. It is easier for us in Indonesia who happens to use Bahasa Indonesia as our unifying language. There are hundreds of languages in Indonesia, and probably thousands of dialect; by using Bahasa Indonesia as our main language we are able to reach out and unite the citizens. The local languages and dialects are free to be used any time, but for official matters and education the Bahasa Indonesia is used to ensure everyone understands. This is what English is to the world: a true convenience if you can master it, but you can still live your life without it. The next time you met someone who evidently use English as second language give him/her a respect instead of a glare because learning a new language is not easy. You can hate him/her still if you want, especially if you think he/she is being ignorant. I hate people who speaks Bahasa Indonesia ignorantly too. Nevertheless, if you see his/her effort to master it, give it a thumbs up just like you would to people who tried to master a new skill. And when you went to non-English speaking country, be grateful when you met someone who can speak it albeit imperfectly instead of trashing around in social media how you couldn't find anyone who can communicate in English in that remote country. Or better yet, get a dictionary and speak their lingo ;)

Caption: This is true we shouldn't have to be bylingwill 

to work and live hear if they move hear they need to speek English.

-Possible translation: This is true we shouldn't have to be bilingual 

to work and live here if they move here they need to speak English.-

I love English a lot. I guess that is why I can easily get it by myself. Despite it being super hard and super confusing, English is a beautiful language with so many words you can choose from to express yourself. It is very versatile and it has no hierarchy, which means you can speak it as it is to whomever. You can change the intonation if you like and how you speak it to better fit the condition you are in, but the nature of the words itself remains unchanged. In various languages in Indonesia (and I guess in the majority of Asia countries) there are words or phrases that can only be use with your superior, or to put it bluntly: a hierarchy in language. By writing in English instead of Bahasa Indonesia I am free from that hierarchy and the limitation of how I can express myself. This is a luxury that many native English speakers do not realize. Every time I saw a poorly written Facebook status such as the above or I can't help asking: Why??? You got your chance to learn it properly since day one!! Like this woman said: I won the lottery — the linguistic lottery, that is. If you also born and raised in a country that use English as your first language, then you are better equipped than most people in the world. Let's use it properly, shall we? 

The Strange Indonesian in US Land

Everyone just wants to be liked and accepted.

Except for Tim. Tim doesn't give a shit.

This morning I got two friendly reminder that I am who I am. 

The first reminder came when I disdainfully close Simon Winchester's book "Krakatoa, The Day The World Explode". It was a great and comprehensive book, but I felt cheated and angry when he compared the modern day Jakarta to its so-called Golden Days under the Dutch colonizations. Those were Golden days indeed for the Dutch who ruled the city, drained its resources to fill out their coffers and enslave the local native and being great and mighty all round. It was hardly golden for the locals who were treated as servants and becoming slaves in their own land, and being strangled with heavy tax and having to submit to the intruders' whim. This is a reminder for me to never forget the history of my people. Wherever I am, I am still an Indonesian and it will remained that way forever.

The second reminder came from my friend's Facebook status. She wrote about a taxi driver's comment regarding a street performer with monkey. He said: "humans are given wit by God to earn his own living. It's such a shame to use the animal instead to earn his living. Doesn't he feel ashamed to let a monkey work and earn money for him, and use it for his own well-being?" This is a reminder for me that in accordance to the values that I have held so long they are still very much valid wherever I am. I have always believe that there are more in this world than just trying to be accepted and fit in society, there are more in this world than just trying to get a comfortable living and if possible a better one than others. There are kindness and compassion, dignity and pride, knowledge of what is right and wrong and strength and wisdom to do what's right. These are what made us human and enrich our lives. This concept is very strong in Indonesia, yet from what I see it was less pronounced here. There is no reason though for me to just discarded this concept and what I believe on the accord of not being in Indonesia anymore.

It has been almost 3 months since I move to California, and the pressure is mounting. The difference between the life here and in Indonesia was huge and I had to radically adapt myself in order to keep my sanity and my well being: I subtly changed my Indonesian diet to fit whatever I can find in USA stores, I learned how the traffic and bus system worked and other basic day-to-day knowledge, I learned about being cautious with people and the many types of people in California (and USA in general). Yet day by day the pressure is mounting. I found myself questioning and fretting over and over again: Can I get a job here? Will my accent and my imperfect grammar prevent me from making a living and/or making friend? How can I look similar to these people, so they won't realize I'm from Indonesia? At this moment I am a full-time writer and housewife working in the convenience of my home, but soon I will join the workforce and have to face the society which I haven't got the slightest idea of. I fear rejection. I want to fit in.

There are so many things that I can expect in this life and in my upcoming introduction to US society, and I will enjoy the experience thoroughly by being me. The fact of the matter is, sometimes adaptation leads to either you successfully become one of them or that you successfully mimic them. When I moved out to Bali after spending my whole life (26 years in total) in Jakarta I could not fit in. I have the right look and pedigree, the right clothing and the right 'endorsement', yet I move and think and speak differently from the Balinese due to my years in Jakarta. I never fit in, but it did not stopped me from being so good with what I do or from chasing my passion and live my life to the fullest. I can fret and determined to try my hardest to be an American or at least successfully mimic one with the risk of failing miserably in the process and lose my sanity just like I did in the beginning of my Bali years, or I can just be me and use the additional Indonesian knowledge and wisdom that I know to enhance my living experience in USA. 

I am not born in USA and I can't change that, but that is merely a fact and not a debilitating condition. True it seemed like joining a race where all other contestants are better equipped and have clear advantage over me, but it doesn't mean I am not good myself. It may take time but I will survive and reach the finish line. And I will succeed without losing my own identity in the process. I am Indonesian. That's who I am. That's what I am.