otherness

Imagine: A room full of New York's finest doctors sitting through a university lecture on how storytelling can help them better appreciate and better connect with their patients.
Being a Third Culture Kid -- someone who spent her developmental years outside her parents' home countries -- I never got the cultural coding that provides for a sense of nationalism or patriotism.
I have no idea how I'm going to have those conversations, but it is essential to teach our children that racial biases exist. I want my children to see these messages for what they are -- ignorant assumptions made by a class that is spoon fed privilege from the day they're born.
In the "You Can Touch My Hair" exhibit, the Others, black female participants, consent to the ogling in hopes of deconstructing the curiosity for mutual education. The exhibit and the exhibited are forced to confront each other's questions about race.
A man with a long beard, exotic accent, flowing robes and a staff enters the mainstream American culture of Phoenix and becomes a beacon for the most assimilated people in the city. It is as if his otherness transmits an aura of authenticity, spiritual profundity and religious truth.
Jarreth Merz's documentary, An African Election, illustrates the stories on the ground that often contradict the stereotype of violence and corruption.