Cultural appropriation is a new trendy concept that we’re talking to death right now. And it’s a conversation that has a definite and necessary place in society. But what happens when we take these hard-to-define, generally abstract concepts and try to make them accessible to people, we water them down. And when we water something down… it’s easier to digest. The point is almost always lost and we end up having these conversations just for the sake of our own verbal masturbation urges.
Enter Lena Dunham. Queen of this practice. Recently, she’s taken to Instagram to broadcast her newest enlightenment out of the world of ‘white feminism’ … and oh man has it been a bad decision. You can’t go off brand, Lena. Thank goodness she’s found white savior-ism.
Right now, there’s been talk at Oberlin College (Dunham’s alma mater) about cultural appropriation of certain Asian cuisines. Particularly, dining hall sushi and banh mi. The Oberlin Review published this story and now the conversation cannot be stopped:
Diep Nguyen, a College first-year from Vietnam, jumped with excitement at the sight of Vietnamese food on Stevenson Dining Hall’s menu at Orientation this year. Craving Vietnamese comfort food, Nguyen rushed to the food station with high hopes. What she got, however, was a total disappointment. “It was ridiculous,” Nguyen said. “How could they just throw out something completely different and label it as another country’s traditional food?”
I hear where this is coming from. But the problem is not in what the dining service makes… it is how the food is made. Food is a celebration of culture. One that if made by the right people is truly the best way to acquaint yourself for something other than toasted white bread and margarine. Lena comments:
The press reported it as, “How crazy are Oberlin kids?” But to me, it was actually, “Right on.”
Alright, now I know I’m white so my ability to complain is at all-time high. But what about the complete bastardization of Italian cuisine in the United States? I grew up in a house where all our pasta was fresh made Sunday night. I grew up in a house where the word lasagna was worse than cazzo. And you know what? I know not to eat Italian food anywhere but in the comfort of my own home. Made by my hands or by the hands that made me. Dining hall food isn’t food. That’s our problem.
Waste of a post LD is the STD of society