In light of the controversial “appropriation prize” that led to the resignation of Jonathan Kay, former editor-in-chief of The Walrus, a much-needed discussion on cultural appropriation has risen in Canada.
Kay resigned after the publication of an editorial on how cultural appropriation is non-existent. The Twitterverse was in an uproar over Canadian media leaders discussing support for an “appropriation prize.”
As a Black woman of Caribbean descent who was born and raised in Canada, an expression of systemic racism that never seems to lose its sting for me is that of cultural appropriation.
It successfully combines aspects of white privilege, stereotypes and prejudices, and cultural erasure all in one hot, racist mess and yet it is often defended and justified by many who don’t even know what it is—and this “appropriation prize” debacle is a perfect example of such.
Cultural appropriation involves members of a dominant culture using or adopting aspects from a culture of people that have been or are oppressed by the dominant group, particularly without understanding of the latter’s history, experience and traditions.
But the offense of this isn’t realized in words, it’s realized in actions. It is realized in the act of simplifying a complex and multifaceted culture to a costume of a feather and a dreamcatcher and allowing that to be what defines and represents Indigenous people. Regardless of how fun it might be to reduce an entire group of people into a single caricature, the perpetuation of harmful stereotypes it causes is undeniable.
It is harmful particularly because while stereotypes of feathered headdresses and dreamcatchers or gold chains and sagging pants might appear innocent, they are often founded in or connected to much harsher realities that exist for minorities in the past and present day.
The problem was never that Kylie Jenner liked the look of cornrows or that Justin Bieber liked the look of dreadlocks, but rather that while they have profited from and been praised for these styles, I would be labeled as “ratchet” and risking my employment doing the same thing. Except while they did these styles for fun, for me, it would simply be the look of my natural hair that is policed on my body but celebrated on a white body.
This also ends up erasing the historical context and meaning associated with aspects of appropriated culture that just become another trend. The necessity of protective styles, like cornrows, that are especially helpful in retaining moisture and nutrients that are generally difficult for Black hair to retain, is completely disregarded and often unknown in the discussion around hair.
Another bigger example of cultural appropriation is the use of the “redsk*ns” mascot in the NFL, which trivializes and ignores the original context of the word, as it refers to the proof of death that was given in exchange for payment to colonial governments and corporations that paid Europeans for killing Indigenous people. Cultural appropriation not only erases this dark yet very relevant part of history, but it also allows for others to profit off of it.
Oppression comes in many forms, but cultural appropriation somehow manages to bring several of them together and perpetuate them in a much more subtle way.
But, subtlety has never equalled innocence, and if this description and explanation of a person of colour’s struggle with cultural appropriation offends you, you’re probably part of the problem.
