These Really Are Great Lakes!

In a previous blog post, I shared many facts and tips about Michigan, the Great Lake State.  I would like to revisit this conversation for visitors who are looking at traveling here for the first time as well as native Michiganders who want to learn new things.

When visitors come to Michigan, they are amazed at the size of the Great Lakes, which seem more like seas because you cannot see across from one side to the other.  Below are five facts about the amazing bodies of water surrounding us here in America's North Coast.

Did You Know?

1. Lake Superior is the world's largest freshwater lake. It is smaller than the Caspian Sea, but the Caspian is a saltwater lake with geological connections to the oceans (11 million years ago). Superior has more surface area than Lake Baikal (in Siberia), but Baikal is deeper and so has more water volume.

2. Lake Michigan and Lake Huron are connected at the Straits of Mackinaw.  Hydrologically speaking, they are actually one connected lake (larger than Lake Superior), but they are officially considered two lakes.

3. Lake Michigan is the largest lake within the United States.  The other four Great Lakes are shared by the U.S. and Canada.

4. The five Great Lakes are among the largest 12 freshwater lakes in the world:  1. Superior   2. Victoria (Africa)   3. Huron   4. Michigan   5. Tanganyika (Africa)   6. Baikal (Russia)   7. Great Bear Lake (Canada)   8. Malawi (Africa)   9. Great Slave Lake (Canada)   9. Erie   11. Winnipeg (Canada)   12. Ontario

5. The Great Lakes comprise 21% of all standing freshwater on earth. Lake Superior contains more water than the other four Great Lakes combined.  You can remember all fives names if you can spell HOMES: Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie, Superior.

For more information on these amazing lakes, read this article.

Racial Bias and “Othering” in a Michigan Parking Lot

This week I received an upsetting email from a Japanese friend I will call Kaori.  She was distressed over a minor traffic incident in her town in Michigan. She was in the drive-thru lane at the credit union to use the ATM when her minivan was bumped from behind. The driver behind her laid on the horn, so Kaori turned off the engine and went outside to look for damage. The driver, a 30-ish white female, was yelling at Kaori, criticizing her for backing into her car.  My friend tried to explain that she couldn’t have been backing up since her transmission was in drive and she was only applying the brake as the line inched forward.

Although there was no damage to either car, the woman continued her attack, saying Kaori should “consider yourself lucky [there was no damage]." As there was no damage, Kaori turned to go back to her vehicle. Yet, the woman persisted, "Don’t you know how to drive!? Go back to China!"

Shocked, and unfamiliar with such behavior, Kaori could only mutter, "Excuse me?" She realized she wasn’t obligated to explain that she was Japanese, not Chinese, but this first brush with racial discrimination had stung. She wondered later if she should have called the police or asked the credit union to check their security cam to identify this woman. Although her car was not damaged, Kaori’s sense of safety most certainly was. Suddenly, for the first time in a decade, she did not feel welcome in her adopted community.

Her concerns linger: would she run into this woman again at the grocery store...or at the community center...or her daughters’ school? Would other white people treat her poorly in public? She turned to a trusted American ally for help. What follows is my response.

Dear Kaori,

Three things come to mind.  First of all, I'm very sorry this happened to you. No one deserves to be treated so rudely.  And I'm very sad that a fellow Michigander behaved this way.

This woman was clearly out of bounds with her response.  Maybe she was having a bad day.  Maybe she has mental illness.  Worse, she possibly grew up (and still lives?) in a family where abusive, angry behavior are normal.  This is not the kind of thoughtful, gracious behavior we want to model for our kids. And we have higher aspirations for ourselves.  I'm sorry this person does not.

Finally, calling you Chinese is an act of "othering," of assigning you to a group she considers bad and outside her circles of inclusion.  When people, full of anger, reach into their bag of insults, they reveal to us the identities they consider most vile or unlike themselves.  Had it been someone who was gay, intellectually impaired, Muslim, obese, or black, I can easily imagine she would have pulled up labels like F*gg*t, the R-word, Terrorist, Fatso, or the N-word.  I blame people like Donald Trump for giving permission today to be so uncivil and bigoted in public.  However, those "othering" impulses are a fact of life.  We need to suppress those instincts and aspire to be more charitable.

Long-distance hugs,

Alan

If you were to make a teachable moment out of this event, what would you do?  Could you share this story with your children?  Would you perhaps take this to your children’s school teachers?  Maybe write a letter to the editor of the local paper? 

While this white woman’s behavior was unkind and bigoted, our goal is not to punish her. Our goal is to learn from such incidents and elevate our public discussions going forward.  In 2042, the U.S. census is predicted to see the white (Euro-American) population dip below 50%, meaning people of color will jointly be a racial majority.

The short-sighted understanding of our nation’s ethnic make-up is poignantly represented in this comment overheard in Kaori’s local Meijer store: "Our grandparents didn't come to this country to be overrun by immigrants."  After we are done cringeing, we must ask how we can acknowledge our evolving demographics in a mature and proactive way.

Please share with us your thoughts. Comments are welcome from immigrant and non-immigrant Americans alike.

Ethnic Identity in the U.S.: One Asian-American Girl's Story

I See Me the Way I Believe You See Me by B. Joanna Chen

We’re walking home from school together, Colin and I. We’re both skipping—that’s how excited we are about having a half-day. Suddenly Colin stops and turns to me, a quizzical expression on his face.

I’m seven, self-conscious and contentious. “What?”

Colin hesitates, then blurts out, “Where were you born?”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. Even as a second grader, I’ve already been asked this question countless times. I have the dialogue that will ensue down to a convenient routine of monosyllables and terse replies.

Colin grows impatient for an answer. “China?” he suggests.

“Nope.”

“Japan?”

“Nope.”

“Korea?”

“Nope.”

Colin is at a loss.

I roll my eyes again. “I was born here, stupid. Grand Rapids, Michigan. Butterworth Hospital.”

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?”

“They weren’t born here.” Colin is stating the obvious. He’s met my parents, heard their accented English.

“My parents are from Taiwan. My grandparents are from China.”

“Oh.” Colin is silent for a moment. This is when our dialogue deviates from all the ones before. “Your eyes though,” he says. “They’re funny.”

Chen siblings: Chris, Francis, Joanna

I bite my lip, cross and re-cross my arms. “What do you mean?”

“They’re...they’re really little.” Colin lifts his fingers to his face and uses them to pull the corners of his blue eyes until they are slanted slits.

For some reason, I feel like crying. I feel like punching his slit-eyed face. I feel like saying something mean, something biting, something that will make the lump in my throat and the fullness in my chest and the uncomfortable squirming in my stomach go away. But instead I stick out my tongue, blow the most violent raspberry I can muster, and run the rest of the way home.

It was the sociologist Charles Horton Cooley who conceived the “looking-glass self” concept: I see me the way I believe you see me. That could have been the mantra of my middle school and early high school years. Mike would glance at my paper as the teacher handed it back to me. “You’re such an Asian,” he’d say upon seeing my score. “You mean Asian-fail,” Katherine corrected me when I expressed nervousness over a test. I began to feel awkward around the kids at school. My jacket was zipped too high, my glasses were painfully round, and the words I used were too big: “Can you repeat that in English, please?”

Because I believed that all my classmates saw when they were around me was the awkward Asian girl with the excessive vocabulary, I began to be hyper-aware of silences after I finished a rambling story. I stopped raising my hand so much in class. I became an expert at the furtive grade glance when papers were handed back.

Somewhere along the line, between elementary and middle school, I’d come to identify myself solely by race, rather than by ethnicity or by race and ethnicity. I was Chinese, sure. I spoke Mandarin Chinese—or Chinglish, as I referred to it—at home. But all the forms I filled out only had the applicable option of Asian American, and in addition to its pleasing alliteration, “Asian” sounded so much more general—noncommittal—non-confining.

My mother was puzzled at this change in self-categorization. She still referred to us as “Oriental.” One day, when she, my brother, and I were in the car together, I corrected her.

“You mean ‘Asian,’” I said.

“What’s wrong with ‘Oriental’?” she asked.

“‘Oriental’ is for rugs,” my brother said.

I eventually came to terms with the Asian stereotype, even embraced it. It was my goal, after all, to gain admittance into a prestigious school, to follow the heavy Harvard and Duke footsteps of my older brothers. I liked learning. I liked being advanced and excelled and reading “Joanna is a fine student” on my report cards. And what was wrong with fitting in with a prototype of intelligence? “I’m going to fail this test,” I’d say. Then amend, “Asian-fail, but still.”

Joanna Chen's youth soccer team, White Thunder

It wasn’t as if I was always looking around at my homogeneously Dutch-heritage peers with a soundtrack in my mind playing, “They’re white, I’m not…they’re white, I’m not…” There were—and there are now—times when I forgot that I was racially deviant from the Caucasian majority. This especially occurred in history class when we’d discuss slavery. Even though my ancestors weren’t born here, I was accustomed to using “we” when referring to actions the United States had taken in the past; it was just easier that way on essays: “We decided we didn’t want to be a part of England anymore,” “Our country has a history of political dividedness,” “We wanted to free the slaves.” In addition, I leaned toward identification with the white side of history; after all, my ancestors hadn’t been slaves, and the textbooks we read in class didn’t even mention Chinese people—if at all—until it covered the late nineteenth and early twentieth century history of America.

I felt concerned and confused when I found myself talking from a white perspective. Did this mean that I thought that I was white? I was surrounded by white kids, but I wasn’t one. I was different. Was I different?

However, reading a passage from Lawrence D. Bobo’s essay, “Laissez-Faire Racism, Racial Inequality, and the Role of the Social Sciences,” made me reconsider my self-analysis. He writes, “…we are evolving as a nation toward a new major racial dichotomy: the black versus the non-black…whites and those effectively earning the title of honorary whites, such as successful middle-class Asians.”

My gut reaction was one of resentment. Honorary white? It is obvious from reading the other parts of Bobo’s essay that he doesn’t consider white a race worthy of special treatment or a race that should be strived towards by other races, but the phrase still offended me. I can check that box on forms that says Asian, but when it comes to defining race, you have your blacks, you have your whites, and you have your honorary whites. It made me rethink all those years sitting in school feeling guilty over “forgetting” my race, my heritage. 

It made me think that perhaps I reverted to saying “we” because that’s how our discussions on race in this country are most often framed: pick a side, black or white. Other races are forced to find somewhere fitting to fit in on the race spectrum. And naturally, many racial minorities looking to achieve the American dream instinctually identify with and gravitate toward the end of the spectrum with better social and socioeconomic positioning.

Scientists have established that race is not biologically real. Genetically, humans are the most similar among all species. As the experiment the high school students performed in the documentary “Race: the Power of an Illusion” illustrated, we are just as likely to share as many genes with someone from a different race as with someone from our own race. But it’s hard to ignore that Suzanna’s dark skin is shades different from Sarah’s pale pigmentation.

As sociologists W.I. Thomas & Dorothy Thomas pointed out, “If [people] define situations as real, they are real in their consequences.” When people believe that something is real, they act on that belief. So while race is imaginary biologically, it is still given a lot of reality in our actions; that is the reality of race in America today.

source: iStockphoto.com

The reality is that walking home, filled with the excitement of freedom from school, a young white boy will still turn to a young Asian girl and will, in that frank young-boy way, point out their differences. The reality is that even after that young Asian girl has grown into a young Asian adult, she will remember that childhood incident and still feel a phantom lump in her throat, a phantom fullness in her chest, a phantom squirming in her stomach. And it will make her wonder, over eleven years after she stuck out her tongue and stamped away, where she fits in in the scheme of race in the country she calls her own.

B. Joanna Chen grew up in West Michigan, a historically non-diverse farming region known for heavy Dutch immigration. The last two generations have seen a decided uptick in immigration from Asia, Africa, and Latin America, because of either refugee resettlement or migrant agricultural labor. Joanna is currently enrolled at Cornell University. She wrote this piece in the fall of 2010.

The author today

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Overcoming Expat Isolation In the U.S.: Ten Ideas For Fitting In

Source: fotolia.com

As an immigrant, expatriate, or refugee newly landed in the United States, you face a number of obstacles.  Americans may not look like you, dress like you, or talk like you.  How can you fit in when you seemingly have so many differences working against you? The simple answer is that you need to jump in!  The world around you is full of opportunities for getting involved, meeting Americans, and becoming a full member of your new community.* In a recent article for international students, Tra Ho from Vietnam talked about how new students needed to change their mindsets in order to make the transition from outsider to insider at American colleges.  Among her ideas, she talked about making new friends and pursuing activities you like.

The following list comes from years of working with and listening to immigrants and expats as they sought to make the U.S. their home.  The links below just scratch the surface of all the possibilities, but I hope they inspire you to begin connecting today.

Sometimes it’s all about you!  Here are some ways you can nurture yourself and make friends in the process.

Photo source: Grand Rapids Running Club

1. Hobby groups: There are thousands of groups organized around interests.  When I lived in mid-Michigan, one of my clients belonged to the local orchid society.  They held meetings and put on an annual swap/sale for other enthusiasts to come buy or exchange these special flowers.  After I moved to West Michigan, I was eager to find others to run with and learn about area jogging trails and races.  The Grand Rapids Running Club is friendly and organized for people on a budget, only $17 a year for membership. What activity do you like to do?  Where is the group for that?  Maybe you could start a new group.

2. Self-improvement: If you’re a fitness nut, you may need to find a place to practice yoga or Pilates.  Most cities offer classes you can sign up for.  Maybe you need to improve your public speaking skills.  Several of my students have gained more confidence speaking English in public through membership in Toastmasters.

Bible study group (source: atlantavineyard.com)

3. Spiritual support: In the U.S., many people find membership in a church a great way to meet people and experience a personal and spiritual connection.  For newcomers who are Christian, joining a congregation is a terrific way of gaining relationships with Americans.  Of course, once you join a church, the other members will probably invite you to participate in both social and volunteer activities.

4. Get yourself adopted: For those internationals who are lucky enough to have an American host family, you know how invaluable it can be to have someone looking out for you.  Exchange students are able to develop close-knit relationships that last decades, all the while getting advice on the mundane aspects of life like taxes, driver licenses, and RSVPs.

5. Be where you live: If you are new to a neighborhood, you need to get to know your neighbors.  This will be helpful the next time you lock yourself out of your house, have a flat tire, or need someone to accept a delivery for you.  A good way to meet people is to just go up and introduce yourself when you see someone walking on the sidewalk or watering their lawn.  I know not everyone is as outgoing as I am, so you can also watch out for upcoming gatherings through a homeowners association, Neighborhood Watch, or block party.

Neighbors get together at a neighborhood block party (source: KathyButler northjersey.com)

Sometimes it’s all about the community.  Here are some ways you can share yourself through volunteerism and make friends in the process.

6. Share the skills!  Even if English is your second language, you can probably read and write better than a child.  Perhaps you have really good math skills.  Consider becoming a community tutor at your local literacy center.

7. Money mentoring: Maybe you’re a shrewd businessperson.  Junior Achievement is always looking for volunteers to teach students about money management, entrepreneurism, and personal finance.

Source: mrsmillersclass.org

8. Be a good sport! Coaching youth sports teams (whether or not you have kids) is one way to stay physically active while sharing your love for your favorite sport.

Volunteers pose in their clean-up vests at the side of the road.

9. Community activities: One of my students joined an Adopt-a-highway group to pick up litter along a local roadway.  He said every time he drives past that stretch, he feels such a sense of pride and ownership of this piece of West Michigan.  Another avenue for community volunteering is the Grand Rapids Festival of the Arts, the largest all-volunteer festival in the U.S.  Activities range from setting up chairs or painting designs on children’s faces to working on the clean-up crew.

These signs in Michigan are accompanied by a second sign listing the name of the organization responsible for that stretch of road.

10. Your kids, your community!  Your children’s elementary school is always looking for volunteers (room parent, field trip chaperone, technology assistance, shelving books in the library).  Most kids love seeing their parents involved at their school.  “That’s my dad/mom!” they proudly tell their classmates.  That could be you!  This local list from Grand Rapids gives examples of the kinds of volunteer opportunities available at American public schools. For more volunteer opportunities in West Michigan, go here. Across the United States, here are volunteer opportunities listed by state.

Kids get on a school bus for a field trip. Would you enjoy being a chaperone?

I’m sure you have many more suggestions from your own experience.  I invite you to share them here.  In the mean time, I wish you good connections in your adopted communities!

* Of course, meeting Americans and fitting into the community is important.  However, I don't dismiss the need to connect to your own ethnic group to give you a touchstone.  Belonging to a mosque or temple or other affinity group from your home country can be a source of stability and calm as you navigate the new waters of the USA.  Just don't become dependent on them as you make your transition to interdependence.

Getting Comfortable in Michigan, Chapter Two: Making Left-Hand Turns

Driving culture is huge in the United States.  Except for New York City and a few other crowded metropolises, cars are an American way of life.

Born to drive: the author poses with his first Buick, won when his ticket was drawn at a metro-Detroit raffle.  (Also pictured: the author’s dog, Rocky.)

The U.S. has a history of cheap gasoline (except in the past decade).  It has vast spaces to traverse.  And it has a population of independent citizens who want to go somewhere WHEN they want to go somewhere.  We can also thank Henry Ford, who realized that sales of his early models depended on their being affordable to the working class. As a young driver in Detroit, MI (aka the Motor City), I got accustomed to making “Michigan left turns.”  This involves driving through an intersection in the left lane, making a u-turn across a median, and then coming back to the intersection to make a right turn.

image via Wikipedia

As I got older, the name occurred ethnocentric to me.  Why call it a “Michigan” left?  Surely other states have this traffic feature as well?  As it turns out, no they don’t.  This idiosyncratic turning mechanism was adopted by the state’s Department of Transportation in the 1960s, the only state in the nation.

Although it is quirky, traffic engineers will tell you that it reduces accidents.  By sending left-turn drivers past an intersection—via deceleration and acceleration lanes—and eventually making a right-hand turn, there are fewer broadside collisions in intersections.  Broadsides are among the deadliest accidents and happen when turning vehicles misjudge oncoming traffic or don’t see it at all.  Michigan left turns only expose drivers to glancing blows, instead of the deadlier 90º impacts also known as T-boning.

Michigan lefts help prevent broadside collisions (also called T-boning) as in this photo.  Safety engineers also report fewer pedestrian accidents with Michigan left turns. via jalopnik.com

For narrow highways, a standard Michigan left may be too tight for turning, so engineers have added a feature called a “bulbout.”  Below is a diagram of a bulbout in Grand Haven, MI, about 10 miles from my house.  It allows u-turn drivers extra space to complete the turn before straightening out their vehicle for the eventual right turn.

image via Wikipedia

A similar attempt to enhance turning safety is done through the “jughandle” turns in over a dozen U.S. states.  They are particularly associated with New Jersey.

Because they also cause drivers to drive extra distances and wait extra time, jughandles are unpopular with some drivers.  Recently, the New Jersey legislature introduced a bill to outlaw future construction.

With over 700 intersections designed with the Michigan left-turn, this feature is in no danger of disappearing from my state anytime soon.

For newcomers here, welcome to Michigan.  I wish you safe driving and safe left turns!