Complicating Cultural Appropriation

Written by Becca Williams, SBT Copywriter 

Halloween is approaching, which means we all have likely seen or heard media around cultural appropriation, particularly as it relates to which costumes may or may not be appropriate for us, or our children, to wear.  I can say with near certainty that most of us have some sort of inner compass that tells us if something we see – for example, a Victoria’s Secret model wearing a Native American headdress – constitutes cultural appropriation.  Speaking to the white women here: Perhaps we ourselves have worn costumes or outfits that we later regret or had to apologize for, or spoke with our children around inherently cultural symbols we can or cannot replicate. 

This is a really complicated conversation.  When I began this research, I thought I would write about some guidelines around what exactly cultural appropriation is, how we can avoid it, and what we can do to intervene when we see it.  Sure, those articles are out there, but they really gloss over the important nuance and deep history of cultural appropriation.  Cultural appropriation considers questions around whether or not to dress your white child up as Moana for Halloween, how so many politicians and celebrities have a history of wearing blackface or brownface, the role that racist sports team mascots play in our cultural imagination, and if it’s possible for white culture to be appropriated (note: it isn’t). It also considers our own history, and white supremacy’s pervasive impacts of apathy and being unwilling to engage in tough conversations. 

Let’s begin with a few definitions.  The above Ted Talk speaker defines cultural appropriation as “The act of adopting certain symbols, practices, etc., of an historically oppressed “target” group of people by members of the privileged “agent” group, thus making those symbols, practices, etc., appropriate.” This is a sweeping definition, and I really like that it talks about power in naming that this mostly flows unidirectionally: The dominant, white culture taking something that holds cultural relevance for a nondominant cultures and using it for their own benefit.  Recently, there’s been a lot of pushback on this idea. I’ll get to some of the specifics in a bit, but the important piece here is that the pushback is mostly around the idea that we should all be able to share culture, as that enables growth and progress in our “melting pot” society.  This is similar to the assimilist idea of “I don’t see color” when speaking about racism, and negates any room for discussion on the power dynamics inherent in cultural appropriation.  There’s an argument that cultural appropriation is everywhere, and it is very difficult for us, in this day and age, to go about our days without using, wearing, or looking at some type of interior decoration that didn’t originate from our own culture.  But, as many argue, that’s different – that’s cultural exchange, engagement, or participation and not appropriation.  We’ll get to that shortly. 

Appropriation, then, looks like Miley Cyrus twerking at the 2013 VMAs.  It could also be any one of the Kardashian-Jenner family members donning skin-darkening makeup, traditional African braids, and utilizing various surgical and non-surgical techniques to alter their bodies in what is now known as “Blackfishing,” an attempt to appear more Black or to more fully align with their perception of Black culture.  It’s not just celebrities, though.  It could also be us as children dressed in a Pocahontas costume for Halloween, or wearing the kimono that we purchased in Japan to a sushi restaurant in in the United States.  The concept is vast and profound when we think about what exactly culture is, how it is produced, who has power over that production, who profits from it, and our history of oppression, particularly as we think about the oppression nondominant cultural groups face when doing or wearing the exact same thing.  Lady Gaga wearing a burqa, for example, garnered her a lot of attention while we, as consumers of that culture, often criticize Muslim women for wearing coverings, going so far as to ban them in some countries. 

The term “cultural appropriation” first emerged in 1945, although the concept has been around for centuries.  Most of the articles I read for this post drew a clear line at outlawing any type of blackface or brownface when thinking through whether a costume or action was cultural appropriation.  Blackface became common practice in the 1830’s in minstrel shows, where white actors painted their face using black grease paint and acted out racist tropes and stereotypes of the Black community.  Minstrel shows became the most popular form of entertainment in the country - entertainment at the direct expense of the Black community’s safety.  While it eventually died down in the 1920s, it resurfaces fairly frequently as we often see photos of powerful politicians and celebrities in blackface.    

As I mentioned earlier, the way we feel about the cultural artifacts we consume can differ from the way we feel about the individuals or groups that created those cultural artifacts.  Essentially, when a person or entity in a position of power, or as part of the dominant cultural group, can take an artifact from a nondominant culture it divorces it from its original meaning.  When that person or entity then uses it for their own purpose or profit, it can have massive effects on the nondominant culture witnessing that depiction.  For example, a few years back the Halloween costume company, Yandy, produced a few “sexy” Native American costumes, titled: “Native American seductress” and “Native American sweetheart”.  There were ample protests that called the company out for fetishizing Native American culture without consent and for upholding dangerous, colonial, patriarchal, and white supremacist beliefs around the sexuality of Native American women.  Yandy refused to remove the costume from their site, citing the immense profit it made, and making it clear that they would if the protests came to garner more national attention (read: listening to the voices of the communities directly impacted doesn’t change our mind, but national reputational turbulence might).  For those who say, “Relax, it’s just a costume”, consider that those costumes as well as other portrayals such as sports mascots, negatively influence the self-esteem and self-perception of Native American women, and can lead to an uptick in violence against Native American women by non-native folx. 

(Protesters outside Phoenix's Yandy offices, 2018).

Later, Yandy created a “Sexy Handmaid’s Tale” costume, sexualizing the primarily white characters from the dystopic book and TV show.  When white women protested about the costume sexualizing and fetishizing violence against women, Yandy removed the costume and swiftly issued an apology.  What does this say about how we value the voices, histories, and experiences of those most directly impacted, particularly when those voices emerge from communities of color?  This brings up the critical issue of power.  Who has the power to culturally appropriate?  The argument that we can share culture because “American” culture is a melting pot of beliefs, experiences, social dynamics, and artifacts belies the notion that whiteness has oppressed nondominant cultures for as long as history has been around.  Our society diminishes or sidelines the cultural contributions made by nondominant groups, and cultural appropriation enables the dominant culture to take elements from a culture that they continually and systematically oppress.  As Nicki Minaj said in response to Miley Cyrus’ twerking, “If you want to enjoy our culture and our lifestyle…then you should also want to know what affects us, what is bothering us, what we feel is unfair to us.”

A few years back, there was some controversy over whether or not white children could dress up as Moana, a Disney Princess of Polynesian descent.  This was a hot debate.  On one side of it were parents who wanted their children to be able to dress up as someone they admired and idolized.  If they could only dress up as white princesses or superheroes, then it reinforced toxic standards of white beauty, and the idea that only white folx can be princesses or superheroes.  Some parents talked about the difference between dressing up as an individual and dressing up as another culture as well as inserting a “race discussion” with children when they are inherently innocent of racism.  I think some of these arguments hold merit, particularly around how we define who gets to be heroes in our society.  The other side of the argument is especially valid, though - no one is innocent from racism. It’s all around us, and I think if anything, children can benefit from having these conversations early on.  As a whole, let’s remember that nondominant cultures do not typically have the power to determine what is or isn’t appropriate.  And, when that view is expressed over and over again, as in the Yandy example, we often aren’t listening. 

Another argument made in the Moana debate was:  what is being communicated when the whole picture isn’t being represented, and is viewed primarily through the lens of whiteness?  Are white children dressed as Moana aware of the history, diversity, and current issues and lives of the various Polynesian cultures the movie represents?  Is that too much to expect from children?  I don’t think so.  We pretty regularly talk about the flaws in our educational system, and perhaps one pathway out of that is discussing nuance with our kids, even if we don’t do it perfectly. 

What about participation, or engagement with other cultures?  There are plenty of fashion lines out there, for example, that utilize Indigenous artwork in their own designs.  Or, what about purchasing artwork from a trip abroad and hanging it in your living room?  If we view this merely as “borrowing” from another culture, I think we’ve misrepresented the issue.  Again, there are power dynamics at play, and a few things worth considering are who profits from not only the production of this item, but from the use of it, and how much do we know about its origins?  I read a GQ article that had the line, “culture can’t be appropriated, it can’t be owned.  If only people from that culture can use those cultural artifacts, it stops our growth.”  This misses the complexity entirely.  Culture, as a concept, can’t be owned, but White Supremacy has cause so much harm that needs to be reckoned with before we make a blanket morality statement on what can and can’t be appropriated from the very cultures we have oppressed.  This Halloween, try to have a more nuanced conversation around cultural appropriation, and be extra observant of what you’re witnessing and how you experience it.

Additional resources:

This article is an excellent read, and speaks to whether or not white culture can be appropriated.

While writing the portion about blackface, I was reminded of the book “Black Like Me”, where a white man wears blackface in order to experience racism in the Jim Crow South.  This was required reading for me, and many others, in college, and the book was hailed as a massive success in terms of getting white folx to empathize with the Black community.  This article focuses on that “success”, and why it took a white man in blackface to get white folx to suddenly pay attention.