Tag Archives: Travel

Getting Real About Decolonizing Travel Culture

Hey denizens of everywhere,

I wrote an essay on decolonizing travel culture as the introduction to Muchacha Fanzine’s Decolonize Travel issue and just published it on Medium. Give it a read, print it out and fold it into your passport books, critique and analyze it, share or shade it, or comment below. A slice:

How we move through the world, whether it’s how we or our ancestors came to be where we are now; a trip to the bodega as a visibly trans woman of color at night, or to countries we have no connections to but are guests in, varies phenomenally from person to person, but those journeys are all informed in some way by capitalist imperialist cishetpatriarchal white supremacy.

In “getting real” about this topic, I wanted to reiterate some points that I see getting lost in posts and such about “decolonizing travel” that are necessary to the discourse. I don’t want this to be some sort of trend or shorthand for “diversity.” Central to this is…

If communities don’t have sovereignty or the self-determination to shape how they want their cultures to be consumed or communicated, their economies to be governed and their environments to be treated, then tourism and travel culture are only a continuation of imperialist practices.

Read the essay in full here.

LISTEN: Traveling (and Eating) Better with Bani Amor

Hey people.

If you’ve yet to be blessed with the opportunity to hear my mousy voice chase an idea in circles in search of a point to make, then you’re in luck, ’cause the good folks of the Racist Sandwich podcast recently had me on their show to talk food, travel and power. For the uninitiated, the Racist Sandwich podcast is the best podcast, according to me (and many others). Hosted by journalist Zahir Janmohammed and chef Soleil Ho, both Portland-based POC, they tackle food, race, gender and class with guests doing dope shit in the food world, all while being cute, witty and smart. Listen to my episode here and if you’re down, back their Patreon here.

In other news, I’m officially one year older and am spending ~ me ~ time in Ecuador playing with kids and dogs, chillin’ with friends, cooking, and writing like a motherfucker. For those of you anxious about missing my birthday and scrambling to send me a belated fruit basket, step away from Amazon and put some change in my piggy bank instead. ‘Preesh!

I’ll check in with y’all next week with some more updates. In the meantime, make yourselves useful and punch some Nazis while I’m away.

 

Article 71: From Ecuador to Standing Rock, Water is Life

(Image of Nélida Ayay Chilón via Vimeo)

“Drop by drop, the world is ending.” While Indigenous water protectors were being attacked in Standing Rock Sioux territory from Spring into Winter, fighting to keep the Dakota Access Pipeline from being built through their lands, the folks at Apogee Journal were curating a folio of literary and visual artwork in solidarity and resistance. The result is a staggering compilation of over 20 voices (including mine) entitled #NoDAPL #StillHere: Native and Anti-Colonial Craft Against Dispossession. It is a must-read, a must-see and a must-share! And it is more timely than ever. An excerpt from my contribution, Article 71, on page 1:

I was hunched over a cup of instant coffee, half-awake after pulling a night shift at the hotel, when I saw half the street in front of the breakfast spot fill with protesters marching, mostly elder campesinxs, Pachakutik flags in hand. Most foreigners confuse them with gay pride flags, since they both weave together the colors of the rainbow, but they’re the flag of the left-wing political party that many Indigenous Ecuadorians see as sellouts, though they can still be seen waving triumphantly across the country. Perhaps this is an ode to the time Pachakutik rallied to change the constitution in 1998, making Ecuador the first country in the world to recognize the Rights of Nature, or Pachamama, amongst other progressive wins. Being queer and mestizx, the Pachakutik flag hangs in my room as a testament to my both-and-neitherness.

Article 71 focuses on Indigenous water struggles in Ecuador and throughout the Andes, my personal experiences with water and some film critique on the issue. Apogee gave me the freedom to transgress genre a bit and I’m honored to have the piece included among so much vital and powerful work, mostly by Indigenous artists. Know that the struggle at Standing Rock is not over. Know that water is life, and must be protected at all costs.

New Year, Who Dis? Updates, Round-Up & POC Travel Book Club!

People, I’m glad we could all put our differences aside for a moment to collectively say FUCK YOU to 2016. If only we had that kind of consensus on actual shit and not a 12-month span of time, but I digress. Before I go into a quick round-up of Shit That Did Not Suck For Me in 2016, I wanna announce January’s POC Travel Book Club pick, Meeting Faith: The Forest Journals of A Black Buddhist Nun by Faith Adiele.  We’ll be discussing it on Sunday, February 5th at 1pm EST over Google Hangout. Sign up here if you haven’t already. Read or die! Now for a few things I accomplished in 2016:

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  • Having work published in Bitch Magazine, Apogee Journal and Archer Magazine
  • Speaking on panels at the Queens Book Festival, Comic Con NYC and reading at the Asian-American Writer’s Workshop
  • Meeting Edwidge Fucking Danticat, Jamaica Fucking Kincaid, and Dr. Sam Waymon, musician, composer, activist and Nina Simone’s brother
  • Being invited as a faculty assistant for VONA’s travel writing workshop for people of color and other travels

Here’s to a less shitty 2017!

Tourism Is Not A Positive Response to Unnatural Disasters

In part three of my series on climate change and oppression for Bitch Magazine to accompany my feature Unnatural Disasters: The Human Cost of Human-Caused Disasters in their latest Chaos issue, I debunk the popular myth that traveling to a region as a tourist in the wake of a “natural” disaster caused by climate change boosts local economies and helps residents rebuild.

Tourism as a response to ecosocial disasters, or preventable crises brought about by intersecting inequalities that meet at the environment, is often touted as unilaterally positive. Once a devastating natural hazard afflicting marginalized people pops up on Western social media feeds, we’re pressed to pray, to donate five bucks to the Red Cross, and then to visit the affected place, whether to aid in the reconstruction effort or to just “boost the economy” by tipping the hotel masseuse, I guess. But calls to “fly and buy” serve those who have the most to gain from disasters, and when you consider how much the tourism industry not only takes advantage of aid money for development but also contributes to climate change in already vulnerable regions, it becomes clear that this response is a capitalist ploy working to exploit Black and brown bodies while they’re still warm.

I go on to use Hurricane Katrina, the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami and the water crisis in Bali as examples of how tourist entities drain local communities of resources that are desperately needed before and after disasters. Also, mass tourism sucks for the earth. Read the article in its entirety here and if you got thoughts, comment below!

Come See Me Read in NYC December 15th

Hey people, shit’s been quiet around here because I’ve been writing like a motherfucker. I’m excited to have a wealth of new pieces get published over the next few weeks and will share them all right here. If you’re in New York, stop by Apogee Journal’s eighth issue (which you can pre-order here) launch party at the Asian American Writer’s Workshop next Thursday, December 15th at 7pm to see me read a story of mine and say hey. If you weren’t supporting diverse publications and spaces like Apogee and AAWW (and the work of diverse oppressed peoples in general) before, you def should now, before El Cheeto-in-Chief exiles us all to an island somewhere.

In other news, the POC Travel Book Club’s talk on bell hooks’ Belonging: A Culture of Place this past Sunday was dope. We discussed running away and going home, searching for severed roots  and the trauma of displacement. We talked about our relationship to the land as people of color and the possibilities that come with staying put, of not traveling. Sign up here to join us for next month’s talk (book TBA).

Bringing the POC Travel Book Club Back

hey kids, remember when we started a monthly, online book club to read travel literature by people of color earlier this year? Well I got caught up with Lifing so we had to cut it for a few months but since I conducted this Twitter poll last week and autumn is settling in, it’s a good a time as any to bring it back.

We will be reading bell hooks’ Belonging: A Culture of Place which is available for order both electronically and in print at the link above (though it’s easy to find alternatives to Amazon). These usually take place over Google Hangout on the last Sunday of each month, but seeing as that holiday where we pretend Native Americans and their colonizers got along great is happening that weekend, I’m moving the talk to Sunday, December 4th at 1pm EST. It should take a little over an hour, but you’re free to stay or leave whenever. If you’re not already on the list from earlier this year, RSVP below and I’ll invite you to our chat at a quarter to one. Try to be early (if possible, of course) so we don’t have to waste too much time on technical issues. About the book:

What does it mean to call a place home? Who is allowed to become a member of a community? When can we say that we truly belong?

These are some of the questions of place and belonging that renowned cultural critic bell hooks examines in her new book, Belonging: A Culture of Place. Traversing past and present, Belonging charts a cyclical journey in which hooks moves from place to place, from country to city and back again, only to end where she began–her old Kentucky home.

hooks has written provocatively about race, gender, and class; and in this book she turns her attention to focus on issues of land and land ownership. Reflecting on the fact that 90% of all black people lived in the agrarian South before mass migration to northern cities in the early 1900s, she writes about black farmers, about black folks who have been committed both in the past and in the present to local food production, to being organic, and to finding solace in nature. Naturally, it would be impossible to contemplate these issues without thinking about the politics of race and class. Reflecting on the racism that continues to find expression in the world of real estate, she writes about segregation in housing and economic racialized zoning. In these critical essays, hooks finds surprising connections that link of the environment and sustainability to the politics of race and class that reach far beyond Kentucky.

With characteristic insight and honesty, Belonging offers a remarkable vision of a world where all people–wherever they may call home–can live fully and well, where everyone can belong.

Sign up here!