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To feel adequately prepared to evaluate Appendx, I spent some
time reading, rereading, and considering the first issue. I was stuck on
the editors' opening sentence in the Preface: "When three black men congregate,
it is usually assumed that they are about to sing, dance, shoot hoops,
or start trouble-preconceptions used to deny the slightest notion of our
'selves' and conveniently categorize our persistent and unresolved presences."
This and similar suppositions set the tone of the journal,and I was prepared
to read revolutionary texts that I, as a reader, could accept or oppose.
Through politically correct and incorrect language, the reader is presented
with arguments surrounding dialectical oppositions: black/white, female/male,
liberal/conservative. In this issue, most authors concerned themselves
with the differences and not with the relationships between these dichotomies.
Second, I was struck by the role that the "academy" played in the unfolding
of the authors' arguments. At times, the "academy" was an authority that
was questioned and condemned, and at other times the "academy" was embraced
and the author(s) suggested that it was an institution to which they already
belonged. Last, although the authors published in this issue held a variety
of positions on the issue of marginalization, they all shared a need to
identify themselves by their gender, their race, and in some instances,
their religion. It is for this reason that I chose to use my surname and
the initials of my given name, as it is my hope that neither my gender,
religion, nor ethnic class become an issue in what follows.
The editors of Appendx are in an interesting predicament. They
are in a position to comment on, to cause trouble for, to raise questions
about, and to propose "space" for multiple perspectives within architectural
discourse, while simultaneously attempting to retain marketability, protect
their own "identity," and serve as the voice for those perceived by the
"academy" to be on the outside. At first this may seem like an impossible
task, as it is implicit in the term "minority" that issues relating to
marginalized groups hold a small market of interest within the "general
population," and that the maiority of people, others, are either
not interested or unaware of their importance. It is my observation that
when people turn a deaf ear, it is
not because of lack of interest, but because of preconceptions that inhibit
their ability to hear clearly or without prejudice. Yet these preconceptions
exist everywhere and are perpetuated by both sides of any opposition. In
response to the opening paragraph quoted above, I would ask the editors:
Who do you believe usually assumes that when three black men congregate,
they are about to sing, dance, shoot hoops, or start trouble? Are they
blacks and/or nonblacks? Men and/or women? Sexists, bigots,racists--or
everyone? The editors continue by writing that these preconceptions are
used "to deny the slightest notion of our 'selves' and conveniently categorize
our persistent and unresolved presences." What preconceptions do we have
for people who observe black men congregating? How are they categorized?
I am not questioning that people exist who would make such assumptions
about black men; I am simply cautioning against turning these important
issues into dialectical oppositions by reversing those same preconceptions.
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