Something about being inspired to write out my feelings transferred motivation to finally start typing out a rough draft (which I ended up morphing into my journal entry #4). Going straight to cutting snippets from my context project’s notes, images, and excerpts from documents, I outlined what I wanted the project to look like[1]. Compared to the context project, I found it much easier to read through research papers and think of topics to write on. However, this posed another problem: which topics should I focus on? Although having a surplus of information helped me be more informed, the varying directions each one took me on would’ve made my project too overwhelming for any casual reader.
Another issue was the fact that this problem of human rights didn’t have a “solution,” but steps to hopefully alleviate the issue until it ultimately stops being one. Only focusing on protests or Tibetan organizations would have been cheating the point of the project which was to evaluate an effective solution (not just list efforts). Because of this, I wanted to point out how efforts were intended compared to how they were received. For example, the topics of self-immolations and protests involved the perspectives of Tibetans as well as the Chinese government. While exploring how good intentions may not transfer in dialogue, I began to see this gap in nearly all past efforts in the Tibetan cause. This is not to discredit demonstrations nor to claim they were in the “wrong,” but it allowed me to see the importance in being politically aware when confronting an issue like this.
Of course, politics has always been involved considering the issue lies in repressive policies. However, the scope of political literacy seemed to mainly cover Tibet, China, and Tibetan settlements in India. The expectations of United Nations and foreign governments to act on policies by the Chinese government was comparatively one-dimensional in comparison. Outside of the Tibetan and Chinese governments, other governments were depicted as all-knowing and all-powerful seats that would shut down human rights abuses if only they knew about it. Seeing questions like “why isn’t [insert country]’s government acting?” in articles would take me aback. We know why, right?
Each time I thought this, I slowly realized that the growing numbers of advocates also carried with them a growing dissociation from the global politics of the issue. This was especially potent in Western nations who, despite their good intentions, were learning of the issues through questionable mediums. While research papers tend to have more pressure in citing their sources and presenting them holistically, casual media viewers took in their information through film, short articles, and social media. Since Tibetans are underrepresented in media, the simplification and romanticization of the Tibetan issue in the few films they are included in naturally became the leading educational source for the masses. Although I grew up watching Tibetan-made arts, I understood that Hollywood films and large media outlets (like BBC) are the ones that garner attention.
With sensationalism hallmarking the profit-minded media industry, it didn’t surprise me that these films portrayed Tibetans in a one-size-fits-all model (a.k.a. the Buddhist). It took an aspect of Tibetan identity, and it depicted all Tibetans as monastic residents when that is not the case. I remember constantly talking about Avatar the Last Airbender by bringing up how cool it was that the main character is Tibetan and the air nomad genocide reflect the issues in Tibet. Similarly, I’d bring up well-known actors like Brad Pitt and Richard Gere who either took part in films or advocating for the Tibetan cause despite being travel banned from China. It didn’t occur to me until I was researching for this project that all of these things I’d once positively regarded perpetuated this harmful narrative. In a zoom study-session with some Tibetan friends, I remember the common reply of, “at least they talk about Tibetans” and “it is what it is.” It was disappointing realizing how readily some people traded accurate representation for mere awareness, but I understood that years of advocacy went into getting this minimal coverage. Still, I knew that as the Tibetan diaspora reached out to global organizations and foreign governments, having accurate representation should be the bare minimum.
As someone active in the film and performing arts industry, I found myself talking to my pala a lot. Now, this may not seem like much on paper, but everyone who knows us was shocked. People joke that while parents want kids who act like them to connect better, our similar personalities make us the worst combination. Our individualistic and irritably stubborn nature made us ticking landmines every time we’d be near each other. At the same time, though, we bonded over the arts. Both of us were the type to spend hours on passion projects, him with video-making and me with anything hands-on. I was always the first person he’d go to to discuss his plans for music programs and films, and I was basically his social media manager. Whenever I wanted to make clothes or furniture, I’d go to him to verify that my method would work. Occasionally, the house would be filled with music whenever we remembered we have instruments (although it always ended in an argument over what song to play next).
This project was not so different from our normal conversations: He talked about his time in TIPA and as an actor; He told me to take a dranyen when I move out; He asked me to edit his Facebook caption. But, even with the minor arguments, it felt like it was our first time actually talking. At some point during this project, he began to randomly come to my room and take naps while I would be researching.
Collection of of images plus notes from my conversation with my pala.
icons at the top right corner of the subsection.