I see a lot of stupidity in the world. So what? Who doesn’t, right? And yet, it seems no matter how dumb the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen, I never have long to wait for it to be bested by something even dumber. Nowhere is humanity so ambitious, it seems—so intent on achieving “excellence”—as when one person seeks to outdo another in the timeless and revered field of stupidity.
Case in point. I recently read that a young lady in the U.S. wore a silk dress with a high collar (in colloquial terms, a “Chinese” dress) to her prom. I’ve seen the pictures, the young lady made an astute choice. And yet, when these pictures hit the internet, people had the nerve to complain about “cultural appropriation,” essentially claiming that she had no right to wear a “Chinese” dress because she isn’t Chinese. I believe the standout quote was “My culture isn’t your [expletive deleted] prom dress.”
Seriously? Is this what we’ve come to? Do people REALLY have nothing better to do? Are we today so intent upon being offended that we’re trolling the social media pages of complete strangers looking for things with which to take umbrage? This is an astounding response to me, and disturbing for so many reasons.
Let’s start with the fact that the dress in question isn’t exactly culturally representative of China at all. The pretty, form-fitting silk dress with a high collar and leg slit is called a “Cheongsam” or “Qipao”. Unfortunately for the offended morons out there, in a history of China that spans 4,000 years, this style of dress was invented in the 1920s in the city of Shanghai. What do we know about Shanghai in the 1920s? It was called the “Paris of the East” and was the very definition of metropolitan. Shanghai attracted foreigners from all over the world who loved the nightlife and exotic lifestyle offered in that remote corner of Republican China. This was a city ruled by merchants and businessmen, and was just, well, different from the rest of the country.
What of the remainder of China at the time? It was for all intents and purposes ruled by a number of warlords who fought one another and, occasionally, the weak central government. More to the point, without the freedom or capital to follow artistic pursuits, fashion in the rest of the country—you know, the other 99% of China—looked like it had been on hold since the hey-day of the Qing Dynasty which ruled from 1644.
In short, then, to call that style of dress symbolic of Chinese culture is nothing short of a keen display of ignorance. It was designed in a city with a population completely detached from the rest of the country, FULL of foreign influence, less than a hundred years ago in a culture with thousands of years of history behind it!
Even then, so what if that particular style of dress were invented in China? Does this mean that every country has exclusive cultural rights to everything its people invent? Guess I’d better stop reading books, then, since moveable type came from Korea and I didn’t. Gonna have to quit riding the train since that was invented in England and I’m not British. Much of Asia had better start walking again since the bicycle was invented in Germany. And forget flying anywhere in an airplane unless you’re from the U.S. You see how silly this becomes if everyone—every culture—follows the logic upon which this charge of cultural appropriation rests?
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, let’s look at the seeming pathological need to be offended that’s evidenced in this case. Is it just me or are people become easier and easier to offend lately? The internet was supposed to spread understanding, providing us access with the click of a button to worlds beyond our immediate reach. It was advertised as a pure and unfiltered medium in which to exchange ideas.
Oops! Guess we really messed that up! How is it that access to greater information has led to humanity becoming dumber and less accepting of others’ points of view than ever before? I guess the theory behind the internet naively assumed that humans would seek out opposite viewpoints and different cultural norms in order to better understand them. But that’s not really how people work, do they? People naturally gravitate toward thinking and behavior with which they can relate, the effect being that in actuality the internet appears to more deeply entrench people in their own set ways of thinking.
As well, our society has come to encourage the anonymous blasting of opinion into the ether. This, then, has had the effect of emboldening the dumbest, the most narrow-minded amongst us. Folks who used to keep their opinions to themselves, or only share them with a few close friends for fear of reprisal or losing face are now all but double-dog-dared to broadcast their stupidity worldwide. One idiotic posting in Facebook will almost certainly reap a harvest of even dumber ones in response. Stupidity, as we can all attest, is contagious!
I guess what it all comes down to for me is a simple question. Aren’t there enough truly bad things going on in the world that we don’t need to waste time searching out that which might somehow maybe offend us? We should be directing our energies toward righting real injustices instead of inventing new ones, and dealing with the serious issues of our time. We should be rolling up our sleeves, joining with our neighbors—no matter what color their skin or the culture in which they were raised—and make our communities better for all.
The alternative, as I see it, places an archaeologist in the far-flung future—long after we’ve destroyed ourselves—sifting through the remains of our civilization. I can see him kneeling there now, examining a rusted-out vaporizer. Using air and brush to clean up a cracked iPhone. Trying to make heads or tails out of a rotting pair of Heely shoes. He carefully examines each item before placing it in a specimen bag, scribbling a notation on the outside with a futuristic Sharpie. Then, turning to his research assistant, he sighs deeply and says, “What a bunch of idiots!”
M. G. Haynes