Mini Narrative

Assignment Parameters:  Mini-Narrative Analysis Assignment is based on chapter opening narratives (mini-narratives or vignettes) from the second edition of your textbook, Intercultural Communication: A Critical Perspective. Over the course of the term, you will be required to complete TWO mini-narrative analyses. However, for each of these assignments, you are expected to choose only ONE narrative from any of the chapters that were covered as you are writing your mini-speech assignment.

Analyze each of the mini-narratives in a journal entry in terms of the following questions:

How does this mini-narrative illustrate the main concept of its chapter (*you may need to identify the specific concept that you want analyzed)?

What role did power play in the mini-narrative? How so?

What were the tensions and insights experienced by the individual in the mini-narrative?

How does a critical intercultural communication perspective shed light on this mini-narrative? What does such a perspective reveal about this mini-narrative?

How does that individual in the mini-narrative enact the ACT Framework For Intercultural Justice?

Discuss online each of the mini-narratives in terms of the following questions:

How does this mini-narrative illustrate the main concept of its chapter (*you may need to identify the specific concept that you want analyzed)?What role did power play in the mini-narrative? How so?What were the tensions and insights experienced by the individual in the mini-narrative?How does a critical intercultural communication perspective shed light on this mini-narrative? What does such a perspective reveal about this mini-narrative?How does that individual in the mini-narrative enact the ACT Framework For Intercultural Justice? SCHOM 248: Intercultural Communication
Mini-Narrative Analysis Assignment (150 pts)
Assignment Parameters: Mini-Narrative Analysis Assignment is based on the specific chapter opening
narratives (mini-narratives or vignettes) from the second edition of your textbook, Intercultural
Communication: A Critical Perspective. Throughout your term, you will complete THREE mini-narrative
analyses. At the end of your first week/module, you will self-assign THREE chapters of your interest and
preference.
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Analyze each of the mini-narratives in a journal entry in terms of the following questions:
o How does this mini-narrative illustrate the main concept of its chapter (*you may need to
identify the specific concept that you want analyzed)?
o What role did power play in the mini-narrative? How so?
o What were the tensions and insights experienced by the individual in the mini-narrative?
o How does a critical intercultural communication perspective shed light on this mini-narrative?
What does such a perspective reveal about this mini-narrative?
o How does that individual in the mini-narrative enact the ACT Framework For Intercultural
Justice?
Discuss online each of the mini-narratives in terms of the following questions:
o How does this mini-narrative illustrate the main concept of its chapter (*you may need to
identify the specific concept that you want analyzed)?
o What role did power play in the mini-narrative? How so?
o What were the tensions and insights experienced by the individual in the mini-narrative?
o How does a critical intercultural communication perspective shed light on this mini-narrative?
What does such a perspective reveal about this mini-narrative?
o How does that individual in the mini-narrative enact the ACT Framework For Intercultural
Justice?
Assignment Objectives:
In this assignment, the student will be able:
o to connect narratives or stories to issues of power and critical intercultural communication.
o to apply a critical intercultural communication perspective to concrete and embodied narratives.
o to reflect upon the dimensions in and insights proffered from analyzing narratives in relation to
critical intercultural communication.
From the Second Edition of Intercultural Communication: A Critical Perspective
Chapter 1:
A Day in the Intercultural Life of Kita: Moving Through Intercultural Spaces and Layers
The sun was peeking through the window blinds. Kita popped up. She smiled and thought, “It’s
going to be a nice day.” It had rained for the last several days. Kita was anxious to get to school. She was
a transfer student majoring in Communication (with a focus in intercultural communication) at a four-year
university in San Francisco. Kita thought, “It was nice to be home.” Kita, a twenty year old Japanese and
Black woman, had just moved back to San Francisco from Alabama. Her mom, Ayako, an Issei (first
generation) from Kyoto, Japan, and her dad, Frank (Franklin), an African American man from San Francisco,
had acquired what they thought would be better jobs (English language teacher for an international school
for her mom, a factory lead manager for her dad) in Alabama. The San Francisco Bay Area had become too
expensive three years ago with large companies moving into the city and the further gentrification of
neighborhoods along the SF Bay Area. It was too much. But, three years later, they were back at “home.”
Kita never felt at home in Alabama. She looked different from everyone. Her mixed racial Japanese and
Black background was reflected in her Asian eye shape, her textured wavy hair, and darker skin. She did not
look completely “Asian” or completely “Black.” As her parents always told her, she was “unique” and
“beautiful in her uniqueness.” Kita didn’t always feel that way; she felt like other Asians and Blacks did not
accept her and that she was not Asian or Black enough. It was hard to be everything to each culture and then,
ultimately feeling like a failure when that was not possible.
BAM! CRASH! Kita’s thoughts were swiftly interrupted by loud sounds in the hallway. She
jumped up and investigated the source of the commotion.
As she peered into the hallway, Kita saw a large book on the floor and her uncle – Oji – with his
walker, trying to reach for it.
“No, Oji!” yelled Kita. “You will fall.” Oji was her Japanese uncle, her mom’s brother from
Kyoto, who had been living with them for the last year. “Kita, I’m sorry. I just wanted to grab the
book and it fell.” “I don’t want to bother you.” Oji teared up.
“Don’t cry, Oji.” Kita hugged her uncle and grabbed the book for him. He looked at her with
warmth in his eyes and nodded. Kita was his only niece and he loved her so.
Oji moved in with Kita and her parents because his partner, Jeffrey, a White male , died a year ago.
Both Oji and his partner of 15 years, were in poor health and had ailments. But, one day, Jeffrey got
pneumonia and his condition rapidly declined. At the time, the Ohio hospital that Jeffrey was receiving care
from, would not let Oji in to visit; the staff said that only family would be allowed. Without a marriage
certificate and formal “proof” of being family, Oji could not say goodbye to his love, Jeffrey. It was
heartwrenching. Oji could not even claim their house in Ohio because it was in Jeffrey’s name. Kita always
thought Oji had it so hard because his family did not approve of his gay identity or of his relationship with
Jeffrey and then had to endure the loss of his greatest love. Kita’s mom (Oji’s sister) disagreed with the
family and always supported Oji. They moved her uncle out with them when they moved back to San
Francisco.
Kita hugged Oji and got dressed for school.
She grabbed her necklace. The necklace had bold letters that read “Emiko” – her Japanese name
from her Japanese grandmother with whom she was extremely close. However, such closeness happened
later in life when she was 10 years old because her Japanese grandparents disapproved of her mother’s
relationship with her Black father.
Kita also grabbed her daishiki jacket, a gift from her Uncle Dave – her Black/African American
father’s brother) who was a Sociology professor back East. He told her that it symbolized African strength,
pride, and unity – all bestowed on her. She grabbed her mask.
Kita’s phone was tethered to her backpack. She popped her Beats headphones into her ears, with
K-pop tunes blasting. Her dad kissed her as she swept through the kitchen. “That music is too loud, Kita,
even with headphones.” She smiled and grabbed her shark’s tooth keychain that she got on a trip in Hawai’i
in a souvenir shop. When Kita bought this shark tooth keychain in that shop, the shop owner said that the
shark tooth was an original Pacific islands symbol but the back of it read “Made in Hong Kong.” Kita bought
the shark tooth anyways; it seemed “cultural” to her.
As Kita made her way down the street, she smiled at everyone around her neighborhood. There was
so much diversity in the Bay Area and it enveloped her. There was a Latina mother speaking to her young
toddler daughters in both Spanish and English. Behind them was a young Black male on a bicycle cruising
through the streets.
There was an elderly Iranian couple who lived next door, sitting on their doorstep and laughing and
speaking Farsi.
Everything was alive and rich with meaning. But, Kita often thought that such diversity would end
especially as big companies moved in to establish new work and living communities for their employees Amazon, Salesforce, tech companies. How would these companies change the fabric of her intercultural city?
A city she took for granted until she spent time living in Alabama. People seemed nice at first in the Southern
region but there was a strange climate there if you were Black. Black people lived in certain areas while
White people lived in other areas. Asians were not as plentiful in Alabama as they were in the Bay Area. If
you were Asian in the area that Kita’s family lived in, it was likely that you were an international student or
a newly settled individual from a different country. In her classes, Kita never connected with the few Asian
students there who kept to themselves. She also never fully connected with Black students as she did not
seem Black to them. She had one good friend – a Latina – Lisa – who she still keeps in touch with.
Kita continued to move through her San Francisco neighborhood on this beautiful day. As she made
her way to campus, a text came in from a guy she was dating – Ben – he was a Cambodian and Filipino student
in her major. They met in their intercultural communication class. She loved how he loved to do the things
that she did – listening to music, learning about culture, and being outdoors. Ben also had no hang ups about
who she was and her being part Black. That was an issue in her past relationships. Her high school boyfriend,
a White male, Mark, loved how “exotic” she looked but never brought her home to meet his family in
Alabama. A Black male, J, who she dated after Mark, was always trying to make her more Black (like a
“project”) and it felt like he was always instructing her on how to be. She didn’t feel all of that with Ben.
He loved who she was – all of her identities and how she was still trying to learn about them.
As she texted Ben back with a heart emoji, Kita touched her headphones and some Afro-Carribbean
rap beats pulsates in her ears. “Yeah, I love this song,” Kita exclaimed. As she glided down the street to the
beat of the music followed by some Dutch electronika rap, Kita took a shortcut through Chinatown. She
loved walking the streets there. The Chinese grocery store that she always dropped by to get these amazingly
delicious almond cookies, had shut down because of the global pandemic. When COVID hit two years ago,
many businesses shut down, and the Chinese businesses suffered even more as people kept presuming that
COVID started in China and that it was a “Chinese” virus. Kita was sad and angry that Chinese communities
were subject to racist attacks and violence. It was not right. Kita brushed by the classic dim sum restaurant
that her family used to frequent. It was empty now with a “For Sale” sign. This once vibrant Chinatown was
much more quiet these days. Two blocks later, Kita was deep in an area known as “Little Portugal” – a
neighborhood built by Portuguese American immigrants from Azores and Madeira. It was a beautiful area
with a large cultural center and bustling restaurants and shops for the diasporic Portuguese community. She
closed her eyes and deeply breathed in the smell of freshly baked Portuguese sweet bread. Kita peered through
a bakery window and looked up at a strange reflection in the window. It was an Amazon sign. Kita turned
around. Across the street was a large billboard stating that an Amazon building would be coming soon in the
adjacent area. No, Kita thought, not to this neighborhood! Tech companies had moved into cultural enclaves
and neighborhoods for years and then left given the global pandemic. But now the influx of tech companies
was picking up speed again. After the global pandemic had subsided for a bit and businesses reopened, tech
companies seized the opportunity to buy up value-depreciating land and office buildings that had been
vacated during the pandemic shutdown and quarantine. Kita wondered if gentrification would now increase
at a faster rate now because of the economic devastation of the pandemic.
As she put her mask back on, Kita moved ahead and ran the last few blocks. Her Intercultural
Communication class would start in 10 minutes. Her professor, Dr. H, usually started on time. Kita loved
the class but the critical perspective of intercultural communication that they were learning was pretty
“heavy” and serious. Even though Dr. H explained that a critical intercultural perspective is about identifying
unseen and forgotten aspects of power in order to design responsive strategies and tools for change, Kita was
not sure. She did not know how she could first understand and use this critical intercultural perspective to
help make the world a better place for everyone and in different ways for the cultural groups who have had
experienced historical oppression that continues, and for cultural groups that are differently positioned in
relation to power.
Over the last week, Dr. H has started to talk about a framework for action called the ACT Framework
For Intercultural Justice to help guide how to think about societal change in relation to power. Ben, who is
in this same Intercultural Communication class with her, reassured Kita the other day. “It will be okay; these
are big issues to tackle and so that will never be easy.”
Still uncertain, Kita loved what they talked about in class and her classmates had such different but
insight perspectives on intercultural communication and power, which was fascinating. This class was a little
scary and fascinating at the same time; that it was getting at something big for our world.
The door pushed open. Kita was now in the building. She skipped up a few steps and glided through
the hallway. As she enters the classroom, Dr. H smiled at her, “Kita! Hello!” Ben motioned her to the seat
next to him. They hugged and smiled at each other. Kita’s day in her intercultural life was already full as she
moved through the streets of her neighborhood and her thoughts about the intercultural layers around her.
Her day had already been lively and now it will be even more so. Dr. H then started their class, “Critical
intercultural communication scholars, let’s get into Chapter 1 and intercultural communication and the
contexts of power around us . . .”
Kita and the ACT Framework for Intercultural Justice: A Passion Project
It was the big project for the semester. Dr. H had assigned the entire class to create an “ACT
Framework For Intercultural Justice Project.” In this project, students were to identify an intercultural issue
related to disproportionate power relations. Then, they were to apply the ACT Framework For Intercultural
Justice (A -Awareness step, C – Critique step, T – Taking Thoughtful Action step) to design a thoughtful,
focused action that addresses and dismantles those power relations to help cultural groups. Kita was nervous
at first when hearing about this course assignment. Ben, her sweetie, gave her reassurance: “It’s going to be
okay. Pick something that matters to you and that you want to help change.” Kita thought about this. She
was always bothered by the conflict and tension she carried in relation to her Japanese and Black identities.
As a child, Kita never saw the negative aspects of who she was until she saw how people reacted to her
identities (her Japanese grandparents, Asian friends, Black friends, her past partners/ boyfriends, society).
Kita wished that she had someone to speak to about all of it (she had no siblings), and while her parents
created a supportive and nurturing family environment, they did not understand what it meant to be “both”
and of identities that are often pitted against one another. Kita knew that she had to create a resource for
mixed Japanese Black youth. This assignment would give her the space to do that. In the A (Awareness)
step, Kita examined the framing of Blackness and treatment of Blacks in Japan and Japanese American
history in the United States as well as the experiences of Blacks in the U.S. and the painful history of Blacks
in the country with regard to their rights and treatment. Kita also wanted to examine the relationship between
Japanese and Japanese Americans and African Americans. In the C (Critiquing) step, Kita uncovered the
devaluation of Blackness in Japanese culture, which took hold in a unique way in the U.S. She also was able
to see how structures of power had pitted her identity groups against one another in terms of housing, legal
rights, access to education, economic leverage in their businesses and jobs.
These insights were layered and complex. Her Japaneseness and Blackness were historically in
tense relation to one another. Kita knew this already with the lack of acceptance of her mother and father’s
interracial marriage by her Japanese grandparents. The T step of Taking Thoughtful Action was intense for
Kita. She decided to embark on an ambitious plan to create an online forum and website for mixed Japanese
and Black youth. Kita decided to focus on her specific racial identity combination because to be Asian and
Black came with its own unique challenges and power issues. She told Ben, “I want kids like me to have
somewhere to go when they have questions or when they think they are the cause of negativity in their family.
I want a place for them to feel supported and proud of who they are.” Kita created the website and an online
forum through which Japanese-Black youth (16-25) could ask questions and share their experiences. Kita
spent her entire Spring Break building her website. She had videos that explained her experiences. There was
a listing of resources from scholars and artists of mixed Japanese and Black backgrounds. On the day of
presenting their ACT Framework projects, Kita was nervous and excited. This was a different kind of project;
it was not just for school. This was a passion of hers that could help many people!
After she shared her project, Dr. H was stunned. “Kita, this is incredible. This is the true fulfillment
of the ACT Framework! You should be very proud of this. This project of yours will speak to so many
people.”
Kita beamed. This course that scared her, identified an area of change that she could build and
sustain. After the semester ended, Kita continued to build and maintain her website. She hosts a monthly
online forum which now has over 50 participants. Kita has a YouTube channel with over 3000 subscribers
and is now applying for graduate programs in Critical Race Ethnic Studies to focus on multiracial identities.
Dr. H has hired Kita to be her teaching assistant for intercultural communication classes. Kita ultimately
wants to create an organization to help multiracial persons with resources, social support, family support, and
networking. Kita still lives in San Francisco with her family and is even closer to Ben.
Epilogue: Five years later, Kita is the Founder of Multiracial Alliance, an advocacy and resource group for
multiracial persons. She is currently working on an initiative to have a set of multiracial identity questions
standardized across all governmental and institutional forms for identity recognition and data collection that
speaks to the unique needs of multiracial persons. Kita and Ben had kept in touch over the years but their
careers took them in different directions. It had been about a year since they last spoke. One day, after work,
Kita smiled as she checked her email. There was a message from Ben with the subject line: “Let’s Connect.
I Miss You!”
Chapter 2:
“So Many Sides of My Culture”: JR and the Maze of His “Culture”
JR quietly shut his door. His brother, Luis, came home and was talking to their mom. JR was avoiding his
brother. The last time they spoke, it had erupted into an argument about their culture. It was not something
they always talked about. But, one day, Luis came home and confronted his mom and him about why they
did not identify as Chicano/a. They were Mexican American and their mom was from Mexico City and she
emigrated to Los Angeles in her 20s. Their father was from Los Angeles but had family roots from Puebla,
Mexico. “What are you talking about Luis?” asked JR on that day when he confronted them about not
identifying as Chicano/a. Luis spoke loudly, “We need to step out of our American dream indoctrination and
stand up against dominant American society. We are Chicanos and Chicanas and are important on our own
terms. That’s our real culture.” Luis continued. JR had heard the Chicano/a term before as a reflection of a
politicized and anti-assimilationalist culture for Mexican Americans. He was not sure what to think about
being Chicano/a. Was that our culture?, JR asked himself.
Luis had highlighted one of several framings of culture that JR had encountered. To be Chicano or Chicano
was one. The U.S. government, legal system, and larger society had always framed Mexican American
culture as “immigrants.” That even though JR, his brother, and his father were all born in the U.S. and his
mother was a naturalized citizen, there was a presumption that inherently they did not “naturally” belong to
the U.S. That they would always be marked as “non-citizens.” The media represented their culture in similar
ways: as always Spanish-speaking immigrants who would do anything to be American or as gang members,
criminals, or as gardeners or housekeepers.
There was even a larger machismo representation of their culture. That Latino men are always supposed to
be dominant, aggressive, and heterosexual. JR always thought this framing of culture by society and the
media was strange. His father, Jose (who he was named after) – who passed away a few years ago – was not
like this at all. He was quiet, humble, and loved the fierce nature of their mother, Teresa. Luis, his brother
who attends the university, constantly butt up against this version of their culture from society as he grew up
as a confident gay male.
There were so many “sides” or “versions” of what JR’s culture was that it was dizzying to him. JR always
felt pride in his parent’s roots from Mexico and Los Angeles. But, the struggle to be a particular way or to
claim one’s culture in a certain way (or a specific side or version of a culture) was intense. This was also
internal to their culture. To be Chicano/a, Latinx, to speak Spanish, Spanglish, or English, and or to help
your family and community and or pursue upward mobility, stood as cultural pressures that made JR feel as
if there a “right way” to be in his culture or a more true side or version of his culture.
JR’s opening narrative demonstrates that culture is defined in various ways and by multiple structures of
power such as the government, legal system, economy, educational institutions, and media, as well as by
cultural communities as a whole and individual members themselves. In light of this example, several
questions arise: How can this be? Isn’t culture a consistent and uniform set of meanings shared by all
members across contexts? Why are there different versions of what a culture entails? Why does JR encounter
such varying definitions of his culture? Aren’t the meanings of culture consistent within and across cultural
groups? These questions problematize the notion of culture, especially in terms of its predominant
conceptualization as a set of meanings purely created by and shared among cultural groups as a whole.
JR and the ACT Framework For Intercultural Justice: Connecting To His Community
JR picked up his backpack. He was headed out to his class at the nearby community college and
then a late-night shift in his food delivery driver job with Uber Eats. It was not a great job but it helped pay
the bills. As he headed to a restaurant on his first delivery order, JR headed up to the counter. With his mask
on, JR waved to the regular staff members that he always saw on this delivery route. The manager, Bill, was
deep in conversation with an older Latino male. Bill was raising his voice at this older Latino male who was
tearing up. This older male reminded him of his father’s generation. He missed his dad so much.
JR waved to Bill. “Everything okay?” Bill replied, “Yeah, he doesn’t understand.” JR noticed that
the older male was speaking Spanish. JR spoke more conversational Spanish at home with his mother and it
was not perfect but he motioned to the older Latino male. In Spanish, JR asked if he could help. The older
male who said his name was Sam, was appreciative and explained that the manager, Bill, was going to cut
his hours as a dishwasher and food prep cook because he had been late. The older male explained that he
relied on public transportation and was having a hard time making ends meet with two jobs for his family.
JR translated this information back to Bill and asked if Bill would reconsider. Bill was silent. He nodded
his head and told Sam that he had one more chance. JR thanked Bill and turned to Sam and asked for more
information in Spanish. He found out that Sam was new to the area and this country and was having a hard
time. Sam lived near one of JR’s cousins. JR always remembered the stories that his mother told him about
how she started out in the country and how incredibly difficult it is (even with other Latinos around). That
stayed with him. JR had grown up with a sense of culture of helping his family and the surrounding Mexican
American and Latino/a communities. He also knew that there were these other meanings associated with his
culture that labeled and confined cultural members like Sam – that they were “just immigrants” who had to
prove and work for their Americanness (an always shifting target) and that they had to constantly face the
stereotype as an unskilled workforce ready to take on any menial job. These versions of culture limited his
community. JR gave Sam his contact info and told him to call him for help. He also told him that he would
frequent this restaurant on his delivery route.
The next day, JR could not stop thinking about Sam and his cultural counterparts who had to
navigate U.S. society with limited resources and without a strong command of English. JR thought that Sam
could be his father or mother; it could even be him. He wanted to do something more. JR called Luis, his
brother, and told him about Sam. In the A step, JR had become aware of the multiple versions of culture that
often framed Mexican American and Latino/a culture. Luis jumped at the chance to help; he said, “JR, you
are Chicano!” In the C step, JR and Luis talked about the power issues that Latino/as faced in the country
and how dominant society and structures of power restricted their movements to succeed. Luis took JR to
one of his classes on “Community Connection and Activism.” JR was fascinated at how the class was focused
on joining community organizations that served Latino/a communities in the region. They discussed the
importance of becoming aware of the changing and persistent needs of the community. The professor also
highlighted the importance of being aware of one’s positionality in community service. JR was blown away.
He went up to the female professor, Dr. Lea Garcia. JR asked how he could join one of the community
organizations. Dr. Garcia gave him the information he needed. As the T step, the next day, JR visited a
community organization that served newly arrived immigrants from Mexico in terms of navigating aspects
of U.S. society (finding housing, employment, child care, social support, access to schools, translation
services, community connection groups). JR never turned back. He volunteered at the organization for two
years and was hired as a program manager. As he became more aware of the collision of different versions
and meanings of his culture, JR enacted the ACT Framework For Intercultural Justice in identifying a path
to help Latino/a members navigate these versions of culture.
Epilogue: Five years later, JR is now the Director of a “Communidad,” a network of 15 community
organizations for newly arrived persons emigrating from Mexico and Central America. JR’s brother, Luis,
and his mother, Teresa, are both a part of “Communidad.” Luis is a Program Director of a program on Justice
& Rights. Their mother, Teresa, is a counselor for the organization as well. JR is passionate about
“Communidad” and wants to do even more to help his community.
Chapter 3:
Kelly and Marissa’s Intercultural Communication Portrait: Unpacking Presumptions and Framings:
Seeing Each Other Over the Years
In San Francisco, Marissa, a 22-year-old Mexican-American/Latina female from Oakland,
California, and Kelly, a 25-year-old African American woman from Los Angeles, met over a year ago at an
employee training day at a coffeehouse and eventually started conversing and socializing together. However,
they come from very different backgrounds. Marissa was born and raised in a working class neighborhood
in Oakland and works two jobs to help pay her way through school at the local community college. She lives
with her parents and three younger brothers in a neighborhood of mostly other Latino/a and African American
families.
Kelly, on the other hand, is from a moderate-size suburb of mostly Asians (Chinese and Chinese Americans)
and Whites/European Americans in the San Fernando Valley in Los Angeles and is the only child. Her parents
are both professionals: her father is a lawyer and her mother is a director of fundraising at a private university.
Kelly is attending school at University of California, Berkeley and is working at the coffeehouse for some
extra money and to have another social outlet. This portrait presents Marissa and Kelly’s perceptions of their
friendship.
First Meeting
An employee training session at the Bean coffeehouse marks the first meeting between Marissa and
Kelly.
MARISSA: It was during a training at the Bean when I first saw her. We were both new. And when
I did see Kelly, I thought, “Thank God! There is another person of color!” Pretty much all the other people
there were the White Berkeley, hippie type. So, I remember thinking that I wasn’t totally alone. I was kinda
stepping back, was more cautious because she was so distant and to herself. Plus, my track record with other
Blacks hasn’t been too good.
KELLY: Marissa was sitting in the back watching everybody and checking out the scene. I knew
she was Latina or Mexican. She did seem pretty tough—no smiles, no words, nothing. She just looked around.
She looked at me a little with a hard look, and I just looked away. Marissa seemed pretty tough and intense.
That’s how I saw her. That’s how a lot of people see her at first.
Impressions of One Another
Impressions are often made even before fully knowing one another.
Kelly thought she already knew Marissa. Or everything she needed to know. Marissa was from the
Oakton part of Oakland, a Latino/a community that has grown in size and even encroached on the neighboring
African American area. That community is filled with strong voices, she thought. Those Latinos were
focused on establishing their community even at the expense of others like the Black community who have
been around longer and had to deal with more racism. I know Marissa, thought Kelly.
Marissa also thought she already knew Kelly. Kelly was from the richer part of town, Forestville the White part of town. It was strange that Kelly who is Black is living in that area. Maybe they are just rich,
thought Kelly. She’s not like the other Black people she knew. She seems more upper class, more White,
like they have money. It’s weird. Wonder if Kelly even sees herself as being Black, thought Marissa.
Relating to One Another
Two weeks later, Marissa and Kelly worked the same shift and ended up closing the Bean together
with the manager. On that shift, they begin to talk to one another.
MARISSA: We immediately bonded over liking the same stuff. Like working out, going to the
gym, dancing, all that stuff. We even shopped at the same places. Liked the same music. That was really cool
and I felt at home with her. I watched her at first. Like I kinda expected her to not have many friends like me
or where I come from and who I am. That history I am sure is between our communities. But, I just had to
kinda jump in after awhile ‘cause we are working together and in that same space you know.
KELLY: Marissa was not totally friendly at first. I understood that reluctance at first. I am like that
too. But we somehow got on the topic of music and our hobbies. That was cool. She did ask me questions
like, “You like rap/hip hop stuff or certain stores that minorities go to?” I don’t know if she just thought that
was what I like or that she thought that of me because I am Black. She kinda spoke to me like I was from the
“hood” or something—just the tone and the swagger. I didn’t like that at first. I expect it no matter what
though. We had more in common and being at work together as some of the only people of color, that was
something good. I was open to that part.
MARISSA: My parents worked hard to rent and then buy a house in Oakton. It is an established
community of Mexican American and Latino/a families. All of our neighbors have worked so hard to be in
this country and provide for their families. We all stick together and help each other because we learned that
we could not rely on anyone else. White America thinks we don’t belong in this country and always reminds
us of this; that we will always be “visitors.” Other racial ethnic groups think that we are just poor workers
who will take any job from society – anything to get by even if it hurts other people. It’s not that way; we do
work hard to survive because we feel like we have to prove our worth all of the time.
KELLY: Marissa thinks she knows me. She has said a few things like she thought money was not
a problem. I’m working at this coffee shop, can’t she see that? I’m not here for fun. What people don’t know
is that we live in Forestville now but we didn’t before. We used to leave in a Black area. It was my grandma’s
house and we lived there for most of my childhood. My dad was working all kinds of shifts while my mom
finished college and law school. It was a long road. Then, we moved cuz my parents did pretty well but it
doesn’t matter where we live. People treat us the same wherever; we are Black wherever we go. My dad has
me working this job to help pay for college and also to teach me about standing on my own. I know that
Marissa has ideas about how I should be as a Black person. She even asked me why I wasn’t wearing a BLM
shirt after the George Floyd murder. That I should stand up for my group! I don’t need to where a BLM Tshirt to show how important my Blackness is to me – so that I can look good according to some fake standard
of looking “woke.”
Points of Tension
Marissa and Kelly built their friendship over the next year and experienced connections over similar
interests and experiences, as well as points of tension.
MARISSA: Kelly always assumes the worst about me and my friends. I get it. I really do, but she
doesn’t want to come out with my friends and me and I don’t get that. I ask and she just seems resigned to
the fact that we hate Black people or that it is all about her race. I have reservations about other people and
even Black people treating me a certain way. I try to not let that totally come into our friendship. I want to
connect with her over how we experience a lot from people who aren’t brown or black, who aren’t minorities
in this area.
KELLY: Marissa would say that I tend to alienate myself from her outside of work. If it is one on one, I am
more comfortable with her. I know that she is getting to know me piece by piece. It’s just that I don’t know
her friends or her family and maybe I don’t fully know her. That is a real possibility. Because, yeah we are
both from diverse racial groups, but I feel like right now it is about my community being treated differently
and separately from everybody else. And we know how much hatred there is out there for Black people, even
under the surface.
Marissa and Kelly and the ACT Framework for Intercultural Justice
After a period of silence and non-interaction for a few weeks, Marissa reached out to Kelly. She
texted, “I know it’s been a while and I haven’t seen you at work. Let’s get together and talk.” Kelly replied,
“Yeah I would like that.“ They met at the Bean later that week after Kelly’s shift. They talked about their
impressions of each other and how they interpreted each other’s behavior. Kelly said, “There are bigger issues
at play, right? Like the environment that we are in and society.” Marissa and Kelly spent time in the A
(Awareness) step, making themselves aware of the historical and sociopolitical layers of intercultural
interaction. As they shared and raised questions about how their communities and the media stereotype each
other’s group, they enter the C (Critiquing) step. Over time, these interactions change their friendship. They
became closer and grew to understand each other more. Kelly often went to Marissa to talk about issues of
race; Marissa did the same as well. As their friendship progressed, Kelly wanted to do more in the wake of
the 2020 George Floyd murder. Marissa went with Kelly to a rally against anti-Blackness racism. They
decided to speak to each other’s communities to work together on this larger issue of racial justice. Marissa
and Kelly continued to do this as they moved on to other jobs and schools, always keeping in touch and
feeling proud of the important and “real” intercultural friendship that they built over the years.
Epilogue: 5 Years Later: Marissa moved to New York for an amazing new job opportunity as the Vice
President of Human Resources for a Health care system. She has focused her energies on addressing health
care disparities for underserved groups like Latino/as, African Americans, Southeast Asians, and Pacific
Islanders. Kelly now is the lead legal counsel for a human rights organization in Seattle that focuses on
women’s rights and immigrant rights. They both visit each other when they are in each other’s towns and
seem to talk even more now after the global pandemic and in response to social justice issues in the country.
One day, they hope to create a coalition organization together than connects Latino/and Black communities.
Chapter 4:
Amara: Grappling With The “Way Things Are” and “The Way Things Should Be”
It was five in the morning. Amara had already been up for an hour, working on a brief for her company. She
was part of the legal counsel team for a tech company. It was a demanding job, and she knew that she had
to do everything she could to be successful at it. Her Pakistani parents instilled that sense of achievement in
her since she was a little girl. She was a Desi born and raised in Chicago from two immigrant South Asian
parents who gave her and her brother a wonderful childhood and education. They did not always have as
much food or financial security as they wanted. But, they did have a great deal of love.
“Now, I gotta make the lunches and some breakfast,” muttered Amara. Her mother always made them warm
lunch for school and breakfast in the morning. She made all of the meals and took care of the family. No
stone was unturned. Her mother was the best; she could still smell her chai muffins and her paratha. Amara
smiled. It had been a long time since she felt the arm embrace of her mother; she had passed away
unexpectedly when she was 15, almost 18 years ago. But it felt like yesterday to her.
As she got everything ready for the day, Amara remembered that her daughters loved a specific egg with
their paratha and their husband wanted some oatmeal. Amara was used to tasking care of her family; upon
the passing of her mother, she took up that role of caretaker (cooking, cleaning) for her dad and brother. She
was never told to do so but she knew that this was “the way things are” – an unspoken gender expectation
passed down over time on her culture and in her family as the only daughter.
It was strange, though, because though she was born in the U.S., that expectation – that dominant view – that
gender ideology – about what Pakistani women should do and be – was still persistent and even more so as
diasporic (cultures that migrate from their ancestral homeland to external sites of settlement) groups cling to
their cultural ways in different and changing heterogeneous environments.
Moreover, Amara was also taught to reach for success. Her parents talked about “success in America” as if
it was just within their reach. That she and her brother, Jav, could be what they want and reach their goals
and be successful. Amara always remembered that her parents talk about this “success in America” as
possible and important. But, for Amara, unlike her brother, she felt like she had to fulfill two expectations
and views in her life – to remember where she came from and care for the family (“this is the way things
are”) and to also achieve “success in America” (“this is the way it should be”). A blending of tradition and
modernity all at once. Amara always felt as if she was grappling between these two expectations, especially
after her mother died because she was like her mother (they looked alike, both were women, and both were
the only daughter in their families). There were even messages along the way by female family members
about her role, and while Amara’s mother never insisted, she always told Amara that family was everything.
Amara’s husband, Sam, a Desi from New York, was not very traditional. He helped with their daughters and
tried to cook and clean but Amara would always tell him, “No, that’s what I do, you rest.” But, Amara insisted
on doing it all – taking care of the family and trying to climb that corporate ladder. She thought that this was
the modern Desi way – to be grappling with the “way things are” and “the way things should be.”
Amara and the ACT Framework For Intercultural Justice: Shattering “The Way Things Are” For
Her Daughters
When we think of change, we often think of big forms of change that impact segments of society
beyond us. For Amara, the biggest change would be within her own family. To engage in a new path of
action in her family would change the course of life for women in her family and honor the women before
her. Amara had realized five years ago as she juggled the cultural gender ideology of “taking care of the
home” and the “American success” upward mobility and meritocracy ideology that it was too much. She
had physically worked to a state of exhaustion that she became ill with pneumonia for weeks. Her husband
and family told her that she needed to take care of herself. Amara struggled with getting help but spoke to
her aunt, her Khala, her mother’s sister who lived in Chicago but FaceTimed with her often. “You put too
much pressure on yourself, Amara. I know you think your mother would want it this way but she would
want you to be happy and enjoy your life. She was the smartest student in her class and yes, we have
traditional roles in our culture but just because she did things a certain way, doesn’t mean you have to; the
world is changing; we are changing. Why should it be one way only?”
“But, that is the way,” says Amara. Her aunt replied, “No, dear, you feel that because you lost your
mother. If she told you to live your life now, that would free you. You will struggle with the cultural norms
of who we think we are supposed to be and the dreams of what we can be. But, you can at least decide on
how much of each of those you want to be and pass on to the girls.”
It wasn’t easy and Amara knew that she would grapple with the different cultural gender ideologies
for a long while but she needed to at least talk about these expectations openly with her husband and their
daughters. Each month, Amara has started a new tradition with her daughters, now 15. They would talk
about the role of women in their culture and in their family over time and until now. Together, they would
discuss gender expectations and ideologies and their father would also share how he was raised and what his
mother endured. Over time, the conversations moved from discussion to questioning what could be. Their
daughter, Leila, would always come up with a scenario “what if” to get at new gender roles in their culture.
They would talk about these scenarios and the rule was you could not use negative language “no, that would
never happen, impossible”. They would create these new worlds in their family talks and critique cultural
and gender norms together.
These family conversations occurred for years until the girls (Leila and Anisha) left for college.
Amara then shared their family talk idea with a friend who asked Amara to come to their house and explain
the conversation to her daughter and son. Soon, Amara was visiting her friend’s house and leading their
family talks. Amara was enacting the A, C, T steps of the ACT Framework for Intercultural Justice through
these family talks. Her change was deep and profound in her family as her daughters knew the thorny maze
of cultural and gender norms and understood that there was no easy path or predetermined one. That cultural
change could happen but that it would be gradual and difficult. Amara would also impact other families as
their private family practice of having these conversations eventually spread to other families they knew.
Epilogue: Five years later, Amara is now a lead organizer of a Desi gender expectations awareness group
that is nationwide. She leads summits on talking about gender ideologies in South Asian Desi communities.
Amara has also written a children’s book with her daughters – Leila and Anisha – about the family talks that
should happen in Desi families about cultural gender norms. Leila is a filmmaker while Anisha is a writer,
and the South Asian female characters in their films and stories are complex, unpredictable, open, and
improvising along the way.
Chapter 5:
“What Words Will Matter?”: Benko and the Burden of Representing Blackness
Benko, a Black male Engineering major in Texas, carries the burden of speaking for his cultural
group. Because he is in a largely White and Asian major in a predominantly White institution in a White
region, the spotlight on his Blackness is constant. After the George Floyd protests, his online summer class
met synchronously over Zoom. He remembers the professor referring to him. “Benko, tell us what all of
this is about and how you feel.” While well-intentioned, the instructor kept the focus on Benko for the whole
class. Benko appreciated the focus on a core issue for the nation but he felt uncomfortable defining the Black
Lives Matters movement and protests to his peers. Several thoughts ran through his mind: What if I say
something that is inaccurate? What if what I say is remembered and symbolized as the Black voice? I’m not
the Black voice; I’m just Black in my own way. Benko also knew that the Black female voice wasn’t
represented in that class discussion. Raised by a strong Black mother, he felt torn that he could not capture
the anger around Breonna Taylor and her murder. Benko thought to himself, How do I inform my peers
about the Black struggle while also not oversimplifying and or excluding the diverse range of voices within
the Black community (transgender, gender, socioeconomic class, sexual orientation, regional origin)? The
burden was heavy. Benko knew that what he said would carry weight with his classmates – many of whom
would be builders, creators, and leaders. How could he represent his community in the best way while also
highlighting the painful actions and complexities directed towards Blacks in the country and in the world?
Benko did his best and chose his words carefully (“This is the way I see this specific moment coming from
where I’m at – a Black male raised by a strong Black mother . . .”). Benko knew that no matter how hard he
tried to specify his experiences and identity that his words would represent a Black voice (and perhaps one
of only a few that his classmates had have access to). Students asked questions and Benko responded. But
time ran out and Benko ultimately felt that he failed in this representational moment. He worried that he did
not capture the nuances of what it meant to be Black in America from his vantage point.
Benko and the ACT Framework For Intercultural Justice: Representational Alliances
Benko could not stop thinking about the discussion about Black Lives Matter from class the other
day. He decided to speak to his professor about it. In the A (Awareness) and C (Critiquing) steps, Benko
attended his professor’s (Professor Harsten) office hours and explained to her that he felt uncomfortable
about being asked about his race and to speak impromptu for his racial group to the class. Benko also shared
that the burden to represent one’s community especially when you are Black (and one of the few Black
students in the Engineering department) is so heavy and consequential. The professor immediately expressed
regret and apologized. She was embarrassed at her unreflexive actions. Then, Benko and his professor started
talking about that day in class and what each other was thinking about in that moment. Together, they talked
about the politics of speaking for others – how a Black person often gets asked to educate others about their
race (and how this creates racial battle fatigue) and how White professors do not want to occupy space to
wrongly represent Black voices and BIPOC perspectives. As a result, as the T (Thoughtful Action) step,
Benko and Professor Harsten decided to continue their conversation during office hours for the semester. It
lasted for a year and they wrote two articles together (as a two way conversation) for the school and regional
newspaper. Benko is the lead author on both articles but those represented a joint effort to share these
perspectives across all of the audiences that surrounded Benko and Dr. Harsten.
Epilogue: Five years later, Benko graduated with his Engineering degree and began work as a civil engineer
for the state. He also continued his work on issues of cultural representation with Dr. Harsten. They had
already spoken at two Engineering Education conferences and published an academic article in an
Engineering Education journal. Benko visits his alma mater Engineering department every year to talk about
representational issues as well as how to best recruit and retain Black students. Benko now serves on an
advisory board for his former university to better speak to the needs of the Black community. He is so grateful
to have engaged in the work of Black representation with allies like Dr. Harsten and his former department.
Benko wants to continue to create more spaces for the Black community in areas in which those did not
previously exist. His work in this regard was just beginning.
Chapter 6:
My Story: Rona’s Search For Hawaiianness
Her father, Alohikea Halualani, was from one of the oldest Hawaiian homesteads, land spaces
designated for Native Hawaiians. Her dad was undoubtedly Hawaiian. When he migrated to the mainland,
it wasn’t because he wanted to leave his Hawai’i; it was because it was hard for Native Hawaiians to find
work in a homeland that was increasingly colonized and made for non-Hawaiians. Her father joined the
military and then found work in the SF Bay Area. In San Francisco, Alohikea eventually fell in love with
Jennie Oba, a Local Japanese girl from Oahu. They would make a life together in San Mateo, California,
and raise three part Japanese, Part Hawaiian, part White children. With her brothers, Rona grew up in the
suburbs in a mostly White neighborhood. Her last name (Halualani) and being Native Hawaiian made Rona
and her brothers stand out. But, Rona always felt a bit strange in relation to her Hawaiian identity. She was
Hawaiian but born and raised in San Mateo, California, 2,318 miles from her dad’s hometown. Rona was a
mainland Hawaiian – born away from her ancestral homeland but carrying markers of that homeland – her
last name and the memories of her father.
When people would ask if she engaged in the behaviors associated with being Hawaiian or Hawaiian identity
– dancing hula, outrigger paddling, speaking the olelo (language), she did do all of those activities or not very
well. Did that make her less Hawaiian? She would see other non-Hawaiians engage those activities and
wonder if non-Hawaiians were more Hawaiian than she was. Rona was not born or raised in Hawai’i and
did not reside in the islands. So, what kind of Hawaiian did this make her? If she is a diasporic Hawaiian
(born and raised in the continental U.S.), shouldn’t she be going out of her way to engage in as many
Hawaiian activities as possible in the diaspora? To make up for that cultural distance from the ancestral
homeland? This notion of Hawaiian identity dominated Rona’s life. She was constantly searching for her
Hawaiianness between the larger society’s notion that Native Hawaiians derive from and inhabit Hawai’i
(that a Hawaiian could never be outside of and away from Hawai’i) and her own personal sensemaking of
being a diasporic Hawaiian. This search for her Hawaiianness was made even more complex in relation to
the land struggles and identity rights struggle of Hawaiians in Hawai’i and the diasporic experiences of
Hawaiians raised away from Hawai’i given the land dispossession and limited economic positionalities of
Hawaiians in the homeland. Rona thought, Would she ever find her Hawaiianness?
Rona and the ACT Framework for Intercultural Justice: Finding Her Roots and Routes
In the A (Awareness) and C (Critiquing) steps, Rona begins to examine her Hawaiian “roots” in
middle school through college. Rona was always searching. She even studied Hawaiian identity years later
as a doctoral student for her dissertation in Arizona. Upon becoming a university professor in California,
Rona delves into her “routes” – or the migration moves of diasporic Hawaiians before her – the Hawaiians in
the Gold Rush, the Hawaiian princes who attended school in San Mateo, the Hawaiians who settled in the
Pacific Northwest. Rona even hiked miles in order to visit a forgotten site of an old Hawaiian village
inhabited during the Gold Rush deep in Placer County. She tried to trace every migration move she could in
order to get closer to the Hawaiian diaspora and feel more Hawaiian through their diasporic movements. As
part of the T (Thoughtful Action) step, Rona begins to write a book about mainland Hawaiian identity to
affirm the experiences and identities of other diasporic Hawaiians.
Epilogue: Five years later, Rona continues to write her write her book about mainland Hawaiian identity.
Rona is now a proud mom of twins – Kea and Keli’i – who are also born in the Hawaiian diaspora. In 2020,
together, Rona and her twins write a children’s book, “Traveling Through Time With Honu: A Mainland
Hawaiian Journey.” It is a book that affirms the native Hawaiian identities of diasporic Hawaiian children
all over the world and locates our roots/routes in the diasporic movements of Hawaiians from the 1800s to
now. The book is about a magic turtle that transports a set of mainland Hawaiian twins through time to see
how Hawaiians had migrated since the 1800s and thus, connected all diasporic generations to Hawai’i and
Hawaiianness. Rona hopes to continue her work to affirm and name diasporic Hawaiian identities.
Chapter 7:
“We Are Alive and Here”: Bidzii and Rewriting the Erasure of Native Americans
It was about ten minutes before class. Bidzii grabbed his book and coffee. He did not want to be
late, especially for this class. It was an intercultural communication class and it was different. Bidzii thought
it would be some “check the box” required diversity course but it was much more than this. On the first day
of the quarter, the professor (Dr. Gómez) put up a land acknowledgment slide on the screen, and the class
talked about “the indigenous land that we are standing on/occupying.” Bidzii never expected that. He was
a Navajo with roots in the Southwest and California. Now, a community college student in Los Angeles,
Bidzii thought about how none of his teachers throughout his life ever acknowledged Native land. Dr. Gómez
was different; he spoke about the importance of recognizing Native land and what that means in the long and
painful history of cultural genocide and land dispossession of Native Americans and indigenous peoples
across the globe. The first page of the course syllabus had a formal Native land acknowledgment. And there
were readings by and about Native American and First Peoples scholars. Bidzii was stunned; there had never
been any acknowledgment or inclusion of his culture in his life outside of his family. Only his family
members – his mother, father, and sister, the elders in his community in New Mexico – would call him by his
name – Bidzii – a Navajo name that connotes strength (“he is strong”). No one could pronounce it when he
was young in the cities that he lived in – Denver; Seattle; Los Angeles – so he was known as “B.” When
Bidzii would share that he was Navajo, most would not know how to process that. Some would say the usual:
“I never met a real Indian before” or “When did you move away from the reservation?” Some even said, “I
thought you all were dead” or “dying out” – “Wow, a real Indian.” Bidzii was not shocked anymore at the
responses he faced. It infuriated him and also made him sad. But, it was clear that a certain historical image
or a specific historical narrative of Native Americans reigned supreme in larger U.S. society.
One historical (mythic) image was the “noble savage” – the notion that Native Americans were
outdated, primitive, solemn peoples that were never meant to live in the modern world – in the now – and as
part of today. Bidzii always got this; people were stunned that he was alive, present, and young. Native
Americans were supposed to be in the past and gone.
Another set of historical images that Bidzii encountered was that Native Americans were either
savages (violent and needing civilization), gullible (trading vast land for worthless baubles and trinkets), and
or “drunks,” who could not do anything with their lives.
Whenever Bidzii had a history class, he was always amazed (and then not) at how history textbooks
would reproduce the same historical myths and images about Native American groups (as a monolith and not
as individual tribes). These textbooks never fully elaborated upon the acts of domination and colonization
of Western peoples and White settlers.
As he took this intercultural communication class and learned that history itself is a field of forces
and unequal power interests, Bidzii knew that his existence and presence in everyday life could directly
counter the historical myths that permeate society.
He was a living Navajo in modern life and that could shatter the historical erasure of Native and indigenous
peoples.
Bidzii and the ACT Framework For Intercultural Justice: Documenting Presence
In the A (Awareness) and C (Critiquing) steps, Bidzii appreciated understanding the nature of
historical memory and intercultural communication in relation to power from his intercultural communication
class. He also grew excited about resistive histories or ones that are meant to disrupt and subvert dominant
forms of history. As the T (Thoughtful Action) step, Bidzii wanted to create a resistive history or text. How
could he do that? While he was taking film and journalism classes, there was no way to create a full
documentary (yet); that was Bidzii’s dream. Bidzii wanted to do something NOW.
One key tool he could use was social media. Bidzii created a special IG Instagram account called
“Native Lives, Native Realities.” On his IG account, he started to post pictures and videos of Native
Americans that he knew in their everyday lives and in relation to the their tribes. Bidzii wanted to showcase
how Native Americans permeated society – in metropolitan cities, small towns, and suburbs – and how
indigenous peoples combine today’s world with their Native cultural ties (in a blend of present and past).
Bidzii wanted to make the point that though indigenous peoples exist in the modern world, that they are not
examples of Western assimilation but rather they traverse their culture and society in different ways.
Bidzii’s account at first had 100 followers and then two weeks later, it had 10,000 followers. Other
Native leaders and scholars connected with Bidzii to present live panels and interviews. For the next two
years, Bidzii worked hard to document Native presence in as many ways as possible and across various tribal
identities (even showcasing his family and community). Their presence was meant to counter the dominant
historical narratives.
Epilogue: Five years later, Bidzii graduated from film school in Los Angeles. He is now working on his
first documentary feature film that captures “Native presence” similar to his IG account and more. His IG
account has 350,000 followers and his YouTube channel has half a million subscribers. Bidzii is not done;
he felt that there is so much more to document about who we are, our different life textures, and our stories.
It was important for Bidzii to create documentaries about real Native people because fictional films will be
deemed as “not real” and thus, not validated. Bidzii has just completed an outline of his first documentary
film.
Chapter 8:
“How Can I Communicate What Race Means From My Social Location?”: A Panel on Race
The email message read as follows:
Thank you so much for accepting our invitation to be on our “Race Matters,” which will be streamed
on Amazon Live in three weeks. There will be four panelists – all females from different identity backgrounds
and positionalities. We want you to speak on what race means to you and has meant to you in your
experiences and from your vantage point. We look forward to this panel.
The four invited female panelists – women across varied identity backgrounds and racialized
positions – on the impending “Race Matters” panel are Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra. Individually, each
of these invited panelists think about what they will say on the “Race Matters” panel, and in so doing, share
their own lives experiences and sensemakings of race.
RAE: Rae, a Chinese American female entrepreneur in Seattle, was nervous as she read the email.
What would she say? What could she say? When people think about “race,” they don’t often think about
Asian Americans. There are misconceptions that Asian Americans talk more about culture than race. That
race does not affect our lives in a significant way. I need to speak to that. Asian Americans have been
historically and socially oppressed in different ways than Blacks and Latino/as in the U.S. Framed as “forever
foreign” and deemed as encroaching on land and resources that they are not entitled to, Asian Americans are
racialized as “foreign,” “immigrants,” “always loyal to outside nations,” and as “self interested” (with some
Asian Americans voting against Affirmative Action and for educational achievement, has not helped). Rae
has worked with her Asian American communities to protest the racial injustices against their Black
neighbors and the threats made against Latino/as, Muslims, and various immigrant and indigenous groups.
LYNETTE: Lynnette, a Black female CEO based in Texas, opened the email and closed her eyes
after reading it. “Race Matters” – yes, it does, and in this particular moment, in the wake of continued violence
against Blacks and denouncing of Black rights, it matters even more. Race always has. She had spoken on
panels before – as a representative of her community, which she took seriously. But, this panel was different.
It was a bringing together of women from varied racial backgrounds and experiences. For most of her life,
Lynnette has had to urge people to understand that “race” is real. Race was physical difference and socially
constructed difference, all at once, and all of the time. Lynnette couldn’t “get over race” as many told her to
do; she couldn’t accept that people didn’t see her Blackness and instead, focused on her character. That was
hard to accept. Lynnette couldn’t “focus on the positive” as many told her to do; as the negative happened
much more than the positive. How could she speak to all of this without turning off people? Lynette always
felt that people thought they already knew her (that she was a foregone conclusion) and what she would say
before she even showed up. How can I say important things about race and have people receive those
comments?
“Race Matters” Panel: Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra and the ACT Framework For Intercultural
Justice:
In the A (Awareness) and C (Critiquing) steps, Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra prepared their
comments for three weeks. Thinking aloud, tearing up paper, writing drafts after draft. Each one of them
took the panel and its focus on race seriously.
Interestingly enough, each one of these panelists gravitated towards their initial thoughts (at the
beginning of this chapter), which they had written down and or recorded as voice memos. In the T
(Thoughtful Action) step, Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra each read aloud and shared these initial thoughts
during the panel so as to best capture their true feelings in this particular moment about race.
Then, something amazing happened.
Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra each took turns responding to one another in a free flow exchange
based on their initial thoughts. They had moved away from their scripts and engaged in the “in the moment”
dialogue across and between their words.
As each panelist took turns and responded to one another, Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra connected
their thoughts – even ones that were in tension with one another. The moderator took notes on: the notion of
race and racialization in society; how groups are racialized in different ways; how anti-Blackness racism
needs to be confronted and named; how naming Whiteness and its power moves is vital in dismantling race;
the significance of Black Lives Matter and our communication of its importance; how racism directed at
specific groups hurts all groups and in different ways; intersectionalities and racism and sexism and
heteronormativity; how to advocate and work force racial justice beyond yourself; what it means to be an
ally and what it does not mean; and the performances of “wokeness” and what it means to work against racial
injustice.
The panel went on for three hours with laughter, “aha” moments, and some tears. The audience
applauded all of the panelists and the honest and open conversation. Something significant had happened in
this panel and Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra knew it.
That night, Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra together decided to launch a “Race Matters Real
Conversation” challenge among women of different backgrounds in organizations and groups. They
identified questions and instructions to help launch an open conversation about race. Rae, Lynnette, Kate,
and Terra even visited via Zoom some conversation groups to help facilitate key questions and insights.
Epilogue: Five years later, Rae, Lynette, Kate, and Terra are now co-organizers of an annual national
conference titled, “Race Matters Among Women.” This conference now features many different female
speakers across racial, ethnic, socioeconomic, gender identity and expressions, religious, disability status,
national, linguistic, age, generation, and regional identities. Now in its 5th year, this conference garners an
attendance of 50,000 women from all over the world. The registration fees are donated to various racial
justice and women’s causes. Rae, Lynnette, Kate, and Terra are writing a blog and book series together on
intersectional conversations and actions for social change.
KATE: Kate, a White female director of a national mental health organization, was excited about
the panel and terrified at the same time. She was terrified at talking about race as a White woman and all that
is associated with that and the damage caused by the “Karens” of the world and White women’s
positionalities towards historically underrepresented communities. Kate did not want to reproduce the same
old tired and damaging cliches (“let’s come together”; “I know oppression because I am a woman”; “women
should unite”; “I don’t see race”; “I have Black friends”). She did not want to be a cliche and reproduce the
historical racial damage that lingers from Whiteness. But, what did she have to say about race, thought Kate.
What could she contribute? The book clubs and gatherings that she had been invited to, were important but
most of them were launched by other White women and the books they engaged were also written by White
women. So, is she only comfortable talking about race with White women? This panel would be important
for her but she had to contribute something. What would that be, she asked?
TERRA: Terra, a third generation Puerto Rican Latina from Connecticut, and Senior Corporate
Brand Specialist from YouTube, read the email invitation over and over again. A panel conversation on
Race? Where would she start? Terra thought to herself: Should I talk about growing up and always being
judged by where she lived? By her parents who could not speak English? By the evidence of their economic
struggles with their clothes? By the framing of her family as “poor immigrants” who did not belong? Terra
remembers that her Puerto Rican family and community were always treated differently as a group and
positioned in a lower tier than others. That’s how she knows race, thought Terra. And it was not a zero sum
game. She knew that all of the panelists would be able to identify how race positioned them in society. Terra
thought about how race represented a societal structure that positioned groups against one another – Latinos
vs. Blacks vs. Asian Americans and all against Whites. But she did not see it that way. Terra believed that
alliances could be built if those came from a place of authenticity, of knowing how their experiences don’t
have to be the same to be recognized as important and painful. That to come together, race had to be discussed
in all of its messiness, horror, strange connectivity, and personal impact. Terra hoped that the panel could
talk about that as women across identities – across intersections and as leaders. She took out a pad of paper
and started to write down some ideas.
Chapter 9:
Minh and Global Economic Pressures in the Diaspora
Minh kissed his mother goodbye. He was about to start his shift driving for Uber. Minh drove out
of his parent’s driveway in San Jose. They had lived at that home for the last 12 years. His family was
originally from near Hoi An, Vietnam but his parents moved to New York City to join other relatives who
settled there years earlier for more economic opportunity. His family’s generations had suffered a great deal
of personal and economic loss from the Vietnam War and wanted to make a new life. They sought to connect
with their family network in the diaspora (or a group of relatives and family lines that settles in other countries
outside of the ancestral homeland).
Minh and his family had settled in New York for awhile but the economy was tough and jobs were
scarce. His parents opened up a small Vietnamese eatery but it was difficult to pay rent and keep everything
afloat amid all of the restaurants in New York. They closed that eatery after three years. It was even harder
for Minh and his family because they still sent money back home to their relatives in Hoi An. This was
common for families in the diaspora (or those that settled in countries outside of the cultural homeland of
origin) to send back money and support to their family members in the homeland and at other diasporic sites
(countries).
As Minh answered a request for an Uber ride, he thought about his parents and brothers. They were
still trying to make a Vietnamese eatery work in downtown San Jose. It had been somewhat successful with
the local residents. There were more Vietnamese Americans in the region and a large Vietnamese American
community. But, with that, there were more Vietnamese restaurants to choose from. Minh remembered his
dad telling him in Vietnamese, “The landlord raised the rent again. What are we going to do?” The area
around their eatery was getting bought out by developers and tech companies so rents were getting inflated
and it hurt small businesses and ones statutes by immigrant families. Minh assured his father that they will
figure it out. He and his brothers all worked two separate jobs outside of working at their family’s restaurant.
Their family members in New York have had health problems and thus, need more financial help and so
Minh planned to send a portion of their money to them. It was a lot to handle. His family members back in
Hoi An, Vietnam needed help to keep their housing structures in a traditional village.
RING. The car chime sounded off as the back seat passenger door opened. A White male and an
Asian female scooted into the backseat. “Thanks so much,” the male said. “We are headed to the San Jose
airport.”
“Got it,” responded Minh. As he headed to the freeway, he noticed how well dressed his passengers were.
There was a Chanel purse, the newest iPhone, and the male passenger had a Facebook bag, presumably
signaling that he worked for the company that was headquartered in the Bay Area. The woman had a huge
diamond ring on her finger. This was not unusual. In the area that Minh lived in (Silicon Valley), there was
a great deal of wealth – (he saw that with some passengers), exorbitant housing costs, high cost of living,
Teslas swarmed the freeways, and there was obvious signs of affluence. Minh could not relate. While his
family had enough to live, it was hard to make ends meet. They lived in an area that was dilapidated. The
city had not invested in improving his neighborhood; it was considered the “Eastside” and so less desirable.
But if you drove 15 minutes out, it was as if you lived in another region – large single family homes with two
cars and smart home technology. This unevenness was a constant fixture in Minh’s life as his family worked
hard to serve/sell Vietnamese food to an ethnic-eats-focused upper income classed Silicon Valley public.
They did this to support themselves and their family members in New York and back in their homeland, Hoi
An, Vietnam.
Minh and the ACT Framework for Intercultural Justice: Connecting Immigrant Businesses through
Intercultural Eats
When the global pandemic hit, Minh’s family eatery lost a great deal of business. They were a
mostly dine-in operation, and it was a small space. With COVID restrictions from the city, their Vietnamese
eatery had to offer outdoor dining or take-out. As Minh and her brothers brainstormed about what to do,
Minh knew that they would have to create their own delivery service (to cut costs from an outside delivery
vendor). Minh’s brother, Phuong, said, “We need more than just us.” Then, a light switch went on for Minh.
As part of the A (Awareness) and C (Critiquing) steps, Minh had been tuning in to social media
videos about the hardships that immigrant businesses had been facing historically and the global flows of
money and people. He was made aware of how much economic unevenness and disparities there were in
global marketplaces like the Silicon Valley. He also remembered that there were interviews with immigrant
business owners who talked about coalitional work and the value of helping one another out.
As part of the T (Thoughtful Action) step, Minh told his family. “I have an idea and I will set it into
motion. We need to reach out to other communities of color and immigrant communities in the food service
industry and see if we can create a cross-business platform of cross-cultural food service/delivery.” Minh’s
family was surprised. It sounded complex but Minh had taken charge and was always talking to neighbors
and other business owners. Minh had an idea of creating a platform through which several ethnic family
restaurants could connect their dishes together in intercultural meal bundles or feature each other menus
together. They would bundle resources and create a reasonable price structure through which customers can
order multiple types of food together. The participating restaurants would then have their hard working staff
provide no-contact delivery services so that their jobs were intact. While the coordination was difficult,
Minh’s idea worked – the “Intercultural Eats” platform – had 8 participating restaurants (Ethiopian, Filipino,
Vietnamese, South Indian, Ohlone, Kosher, Guatemalan, Nepalese) and garnered 80 orders in the first month.
They have even expanded their options. Each restaurant is featured in a different month. There is a monthly
subscription package through which a different restaurant’s main dishes are delivered each week. Minh’s
family was able to keep their eatery along with their participating partner restaurants. Minh was able to send
much needed financial support to their New York counterparts and his family in Hoi An, Vietnam. Minh’s
family from the homeland and in the diaspora (across two continuents) was surviving and doing well.
Epilogue: Five years later, Intercultural Eats is a full-fledged business and has been featured on the Food
Network and Top Chef. They have over 700 subscribers for monthly meal delivery service . The original 8
participating restaurants has now blossomed to 20 immigrant family restaurants. Each participating
restaurant is prospering on its own and that has been due to the Intercultural Eats. Minh launched an app for
the business and is now working to see how the Intercultural Eats model can work in other diasporic sites of
settlement around the country. This business has not just brought about financial security and sustenance for
Minh and his family, it has also brought love. Minh fell in love with Zala, the main coordinator and eldest
daughter of the Ethiopian restaurant partner. They have been married for two years and are expecting their
first child, a Vietnamese and Ethiopian daughter.
Chapter 10:
“I’m Either Family-Worthy Or I’m Not”: Kimi and Daniel’s Relationship
“What time is Daniel joining us, Kimi?”
A question that Kimi was dreading from her father.
Her parents, second-generation Japanese Americans, brought up in Boston, liked Daniel very much.
In fact, out of all of Kimi’s past boyfriends, her mother and father liked Daniel the most.
Kimi, a Sansei (third generation Japanese American) lived in Seattle, Washington, and was a graphic
designer. She had been dating Daniel for a year and half now. He was a second-generation Korean American
male, the oldest and only son of first-generation Korean parents who emigrated from South Korea twenty
five years ago. Daniel’s parents had started a small chain of Korean grocery stores in the Seattle area. Daniel
ran those grocery stories. Kimi and Daniel had met through a mutual friend when they both attended the
University of Washington.
They bonded over their love of horror films, the race and horror films especially, and gaming. Kimi
had never met someone who was so caring and adventurous as Daniel.
But, there was a persistent problem in their intercultural relationship. While Daniel would always
come over to her parent’s house for dinner and family celebrations (he even attended their family reunion in
Utah), Kimi had never met Daniel’s parents and family. Kimi had never even visited his family grocery
stores. Daniel would always change the subject when she brought up how she never met his family.
“Is it a big issue?, he once said.
Kimi snapped back. “Are you serious right now? We have been together for over a year and you
tell me this is serious. You interact with my family but I don’t with yours? So, maybe this isn’t serious?”
“It is, Kimi. It’s complicated,” responded Daniel.
“It’s not, Daniel. Either I am family worthy or I’m not. Either you are serious or you are
not.,” shouted Kimi.
That fight resulted in a two-week non-speaking period. Daniel would later apologize and they would
be okay but it always bothered Kimi.
Kimi’s mother hugged her. “You okay?, sweetie.” Kimi was staring ahead and thinking of Daniel.
“Oh yeah, why?” “You seem upset,” replied her mom. Kimi was upset. She knew that she would have to
confront Daniel again about meeting his family. If he did not introduce her to his family, she would end the
relationship.
Across town, the smells of their traditional holiday family dinner filled the air. A prime rib roast, a Korean
stew (Sundubu-jjigae), and Korean seafood pancake (Haemul Pajeon)! Daniel was so excited. His mom
always made the best food. As they sat down, Daniel’s father asked Daniel about his aunt. “Daniel, did your
speak to your Aunt? She has a nice Korean girl in their church that she wants you to meet.” Daniel didn’t say
anything. He received several voice mails from his Aunt already. But he avoid returned his calls. Daniel
was in love with Kimi; she was so amazing and confident! He never felt this way before but Kimi was also
Japanese. Her family always spoke about the cruelty from Japan and the Japanese on Korean people. As a
child, Daniel was afraid and wary of Japanese people. But, as he grew up, he knew that his cultural group
members were varied and contextual. He met Japanese and Japanese Americans in middle school, high
school, and college. It didn’t matter to his parents that they were no longer living in Korea and that Kimi was
a Japanese American (third generation). She was still Japanese and from that culture. Daniel was always
told that he would marry a Korean woman and absolutely never ever a Japanese one.
Daniel was the only and oldest son, and there were cultural expectations. His parents sacrificed so
much for him and his sisters. They struggled when emigrating to this country and did everything for them.
Daniel had to make them proud and lead the family business. But he loved Kimi.
“Son?”. He heard his father’s voice
“Yes?”
“Did you speak to your Aunt?”
“No Dad. Not yet”
A wave of adrenaline rushed over Daniel. He needed to tell them about Kimi. That he loved her
and wanted to marry her. That it would be okay. It was a new generation. Times have changed.
Daniel spoke in Korean, “Mom, Dad. I met this terrific woman, Kimi, she’s Japanese . . .”
Daniel’s father interrupted. “Son, call your Aunt and meet that Korean girl who she knows. Okay?”
He smiled.
Then, his dad spoke about the grocery store.
Daniel’s heart sank. What would he do now?
Kimi and Daniel, Mike and Rich, Erin and Kala, Seth, and Ani, and the ACT Framework for
Intercultural Justice:
It was a hard time for Kimi and Daniel. Daniel was still hesitant to have Kimi interact with his
parents given their interethnic relationship and her family’s view of Kimi’s Japaneseness. They decided to
take a weekend trip to just spend quality time with each other. They ventured to Boulder, Colorado, where
some of Kimi’s cousins reside. One night, they headed over to a new restaurant that featured Spanish tapas.
As they approached the restaurant, Kimi had snapped at Daniel, “I incorporate you into my family all of the
time and you don’t do the same.” Daniel was silent. As they walked into the restaurant, the host informed
them that they were booked up and had a few family/communal tables that they could sit at. Daniel nodded,
“That sounds fine.” Kimi nodded as well. They both headed to the table and two women were already sitting
at the table. As they sat down, Kimi could not contain her annoyance with Daniel. She stated sternly, “If this
is not a real thing, if you aren’t going to have me included in your family because I am Japanese and different
from them, then maybe there is no relationship here. Do you know how this all makes me feel?” Daniel
replied, “I want you to meet my family but it will be hard on you and I don’t want to subject you to that.”
Kimi said nothing back, and they both sat quietly in a crowded and noisy restaurant.
Then, one of the women sitting at the table, gently chimed in. “I don’t want to intrude, really, forgive me.
But, we know a little bit about difficult times with family and them not accepting different relationships.”
Kimi smiled, “You too?” The woman stated, “Yes – both of us – we know it in a different way. My name is
Erin and this is my fiancée, Kala.” They all shook hands and shared their names. Erin and Kala (from this
chapter) explained how Erin’s parents disapproved of their same-sex relationship and that caused a rift
between Erin and Kala. Kimi and Daniel asked Erin and Kala about what had happened and how they are
coping. Erin and Daniel talked about the pressure of family approval while Kimi and Kala bonded over their
family’s acceptance and that older generations can be more embracing of difference. This conversation ended
up turning into a two-hour dinner. They bonded over dinner about their family situations with regard to their
intercultural relationships. As they finished their desserts together, a group of 4 joined their communal table.
They introduced themselves. “My name is Ani and this is my husband, Seth, and his brother, Mike, and their
family friend, Rich.” As they all interacted (Kimi and Daniel, Erin and Kala, Seth and Ani, Mike and Rich,
all from this chapter), the topic of intercultural relationships and friendships came up. In sharing their difficult
family situations, Kimi and Daniel and Erin and Kala also heard from Seth and Ani about how society
perceives their White male-Asian female relationship as potentially stereotypical of an “Asian fetish” type
of relationship. They talked about how there are preconceptions of other cultures in friendships like with
Mike and Rich and in romantic relationships. This vibrant dinner conversation – now with 8 people – and
focused on intercultural friendships and relationships, extended another hour until closing time. As they
departed and exchanged contact info, each one of them was changed. In the A (Awareness), C (Critiquing),
and T (Thoughtful Action) steps, Daniel turned to Kimi and said, “Next week . . . next week, we will have
dinner with my family. Erin reminded me of how much I can do in this moment to create a bridge and confront
my family about difference.” Kimi was stunned. One week later, Daniel’s family met Kimi. It did not go
well. Daniel’s father had a hard time accepting Daniel and Kimi’s relationship. Daniel stopped all
communication with his parents and focused his energy on his relationship with Kimi.
In the A (Awareness), C (Critiquing), and T (Thoughtful Action) steps, Erin and Kala were inspired by the
dinner conversation as well. They decided to create a podcast about their relationship and cultural group’s
views of sexual orientation, difference, and intercultural relationships. There have been at least 4 podcast
episodes already, with the most recent one featuring two special guests: Kimi and Daniel.
In the A (Awareness), C (Critiquing), and T (Thoughtful Action) steps, Mike and Rich have connected more
across their different lives and identities and introduced each other to their significant others, with Rich being
in an intercultural romantic relationship with a Jamaican woman. As their A (Awareness), C (Critiquing),
and T (Thoughtful Action) steps, Seth and Ani have had long conversations about the “Asian fetish” label
placed on their relationship. Ani impressed upon Seth that the label relates to the historical exoticization of
Asian women and that he needs to realize that. Seth has listened more than ever and is grateful for the deep
conversations around a core issue about intercultural relationships.
One dinner – with strangers who are now friends and or acquaintances – can make change on a
personal level, which can extend beyond themselves, as the ACT Framework for Intercultural Justice
can.
Epilogue: Five years later, Kimi and Daniel are married with two children. They now have combined
family gatherings with both of their families. However, Daniel’s parents did not approve of the marriage and
did not attend their wedding. Daniel did not speak to his parents for three years and quit the family business.
Upon the birth of their first grandchild and a health scare, Daniel’s mother reached out. They are now
reconnecting. Daniel’s father and Kimi’s father have had some important conversations about the history
between their cultural groups and bonded over the racist treatment they both experienced in this country. It
is a slow but important beginning to rediscovering their family connections.
Chapter 11:
Professor H/Rona: How Can I Help Make Change in Our Intercultural World?
The year was 1996. She just got home from teacher her Intercultural Communication class at
Arizona State University. She loved teaching that course as a graduate student but felt like she had so much
to learn about teaching. Her students were smart, insightful, and devoted to their families and communities.
She noticed though that students were not used to speaking about issues of power in relation to
intercultural communication. So, she decided to write notes about all of the ways she could engage her
students on talking about power in relation to culture and intercultural communication. She would highlight
invisible and taken for granted aspects of power that seem hidden and obvious (but forgotten) in everyday
life. This would be to show the world as it was and not under the rosy guise of the idealized world that we
presume is. The goal would be create awareness and tools for critique for clarity of sight to stimulate change
and action where it was needed. The goal was not to de-motivate or create a bleak picture with no sense of
room for agency and change.
Ten years later, with more teaching experience and now a university professor in San Jose,
California, she still made notes about connecting power and intercultural communication but in the form of
a book that she wanted to use with her students and for her intercultural communication classes.
“I read this. It was depressing. I didn’t know what to do with it. Like what do I do with this,” one
of her students said this after she had asked what they thought after assigning that class a chapter draft of her
book.
Crushed, she had no words. Her book (the compilation of years of notes and ideas) was demotivating hope and action. This was not the change she wanted to push for or make. After a crushed spirit
and some tears, she turned on her computer. Time to address this and encourage people who would read this
book that their actions matter, their insights matter, and change is absolutely possible and needed. She
decided to talk about a framework for action (the ACT Framework for Action) and incorporate narratives
that highlighted action. She knew what she had to do to encourage hope, change, and action.
Professor H/Rona and the ACT Framework for Intercultural Justice: Creating Pathway For Change
This book’s author has established her own goals for intercultural justice via a critical intercultural
communication approach and the ACT framework for intercultural justice. As a university professor of
intercultural communication of 25 years, Rona Tamiko Halualani has asked herself on a daily basis: Am I
making a difference in the world? If so, how and in what ways? Because her world revolves around her
family and her students (and her departmental home), the classroom has become a primary site through which
Rona tries to expose and share information, perspectives, and tools through which awareness, critique, and
action could be taken up. Her students over the last 25 years have been so inspiring; their insights and unique
perspectives have been important for Rona.
In 2019, her book – which she always saw as a critical intercultural communication guide for insight
and action – was finally published. She hoped that it could help instructors in their intercultural
communication classes. She wanted to use it with her amazing students who inspired the book.
Three years later, she updated the book with more examples and layers to stimulate action and
change for intercultural justice. The work is not done but it is always hopeful and purposeful.
Rona’s students have also identified and created pathways for action in terms of positive intercultural change
through creating community organizations, social justice non-profits, and intercultural dialogue training
programs. But, in the last five years, Rona has also realized that she needs to move beyond the classroom as
only a specific segment of individuals (and of the larger population) go to college. Last year, she took the
first steps in creating a regional and international forum of intercultural scholars (as a learning community)
through which they can help make a difference beyond their educational institutions. One goal is to create a
framework for community conversations about cultural difference, power issues, and micro aggressions. This
would entail having intercultural scholars develop a framework to share in neighborhood meetings,
homeowner association meetings, block parties, and in settings where individuals of all economic, racial, and
ethnic backgrounds are located. Rona is not yet sure what these community conversations will look like, but
the goal is to challenge misperceptions of cultures and/or facilitate important conversations about difference,
power, and connection. These conversations would represent a first step, to be followed by intercultural
activities that groups and communities can participate in together (clean-up campaigns, skills training
summits, networking, economic summits). She also wants to do more about intercultural awareness (and
gender awareness) and behavioral change for city and state governmental entities and community
organizations in terms of micro aggressions and intercultural obstacles. Rona wants to—like you—positively
contribute to the world, disrupt power relations and structures of power, and create meaningful change. She
is a critical intercultural communication scholar and together we all can connect with one another, raise the
difficult but important questions, and help to change the conditions, contexts, and structures around us to
improve our lives and reimagine a just society.