Jacob Altstein
Composition for WCGI History and Culture 11/30/2021
The Dangers of Performance Activism
On September 20th, 2019, myself along with thousands of other kids from around the city and even the Hudson River Valley walked out of school and congregated at Foley Square in downtown Manhattan. We were great in size, so many young people joined together to “march and rally to demand real action by our elected officials and world leaders” as The Action Network described it. Approaching Foley square my anticipation heightened as I heard the chants and singing grow louder and louder. The streets grew more dense with kids similar to my age, all here to protest for an issue we all cared about deeply, global warming. From Foley square we were to head to Battery park where we were going to meet Greta Thunberg herself who had just sailed across the Atlantic. Thousands of us marched down together, chanting and singing. We carried signs and watched many artists perform in the name of climate justice. It was a beautiful sight to see. All of us young people, Greta Thunberg, Jaden and Willow Smith. It was great, we all got our instagram photos and saw our favorite artists for free and then got to listen to that one girl speak who’s been like all over the news recently. With all of the preformative activism going on that day, the world would totally pull itself together and solve this crisis! I mean, the Smiths were there! But really, going home that day after the march had me thinking about if these events were really even that effective in comparison to the issue at hand or if they were in reality apropos for clout chasers and influencers to take photos for their instagram’s with the caption #SaveTheTurtles. From this, I began to observe that the role of preformative activism is extremely ineffective against global warming.
So what is preformative activism? How does it work and when does it actually work? Well according to Mass Action an organization that is centered around accountability for lack of racial justice, defines preformative activism in three different categories. First being superficial, the performance is “self promoting, image driven, contributes little effort or support to community or cause” and is lacking depth and overall shallow. Following this there is performance, which is labeled through audience support, public consumption and visibility. The third sort of pillar of performance activism is authentic. Is the performance strategic? Is it properly fixated on the issue being addressed and goal oriented? So taking these three pillars into consideration we now have a proper lens while looking and critiquing preformative activism, specifically in its fight against global warming. Through this lens we can observe what good versus bad performance activism is based on what it has done for the cause and how goal oriented the performance was.
Returning to 2019’s climate strike in New York City let’s take a look at its performances and how effective ther were. Right off the bat, I’d say the biggest performance put on that sunny hopeful day was by the thousands of kids who showed up, took their cute pics and upon leaving, dumped tons of garbage all over Battery Park. How ironic is that!? Hundreds of thousands protesting climate change and then dumping their signs and calling it quits. Well bravo you all put on quite the performance of caring.
There was a great set list of people who were scheduled to speak that day, people with viable and deep rooted histories in standing up against climate change in a performative manner. Amongst the many was Xiuhtezcatl Martinez, an environmental and indigineous people’s activist who uses hip hop to convey his message. There was the Peace Poets, a collective of artists that use spoken word poetry, Hip-hop and movement music to convey their message and advocate for
life all around. They share their art at rallies, protests and strikes such as this one, schools and prisons. Their performances are visible, strategic and goal oriented. They give preformative activism a good name. For the most part, all the performers were people of their word, motivated and oriented by one thing that they vocalized through artistic expression. And then we get to the Smiths.
Upon taking the stage, the whole crowd had already forgotten why they were there in the first place. “We gotta leave a better world behind for our children, we gotta create an impact, we gotta change people’s minds, we gotta show them we really care about this.”. His words seemed to fly over everyone’s heads. Everyone was so excited to see Jaden Smith, global warming was the last thing they were thinking of, even as he spoke about it. “And this next song I’m about to perform really goes to show what we all have to be in this world and in the environmental community in order to make a difference”. What came next was Jaden’s hit track Icon, a song in which he is basically just praising himself for being such an icon. Bad song? Not at all, but there was absolutely no correlation between Jaden being such an icon living and raising awareness about the environment! The whole performance felt like it was his routine duty. A few words about the environment then boom, straight into a banger that had the whole crowd jumping around stepping all over the signs they oh so carefully constructed with positive messages about the environment. His whole set felt less activism oriented and more hasty and superficial. The set went on, Willow came out, the crowd further forgot about why they were even there in the first place. Why should I believe that their performance contributed to the fight against climate change? Both artists had music that had recently been released that they were more than keen on promoting.
I can draw countless parallels to the performance by the Smiths. People who want to gain publicity by pretending to care about the environment by putting on these little shows and throwing the “preformative activism” label on it. There’s never much in it for the environment itself but rather the individuals personal gains. I’m coming after everyone here so buckle up. Cough Cough Mr. Beast.
Mr. Beast, is a viral youtuber who is famous for pulling off extremely expensive stunts and hosting wild game shows. Two years ago Mr. Beast announced his biggest ever stunt, planting 20,000,000 trees. For every dollar donated, a tree was planted, this would surely do a number on global warming right? His intentions were good, but beyond all this tree stuff, Mr. Beast was fooling his audience into believing this is how we truly fix global warming once and for all. This in fact was not how to fix global warming but instead how to celebrate having 20,000,000 subscribers.
Unfortunately simply planting trees isn’t going to solve much, there is even some drawback in doing so. “Sometimes it’s probably a better idea to plant fewer trees and really take care of them” says Eike Ludeling who is the head of horticultural sciences at the University of Bonn as he references Mr. Beast’s tree performance. As it turns out, there was a lot that Mr. Beast didn’t take into consideration. A lot of seedlings die off and never grow to be a tree. Watching Mr. Beast’s “teamtree” videos, never is there any mention of how these trees are going to be maintained and kept alive. Tree planted = Globe saved, boom done. Environmentalist Lalisa Duguma puts it into words perfectly, “We invest a lot in tree plantings, but we are not sure what comes after that.” This can be applied to Mr. Beast’s actions, it can be applied to the hollow performances at the 2019 climate strike. Famous people who need more reasons to be cherished
hop on the climate justice parade just to have a cause to stand behind and in the process promote themselves and their artwork, give people false senses of hope and understanding.
And listen I get it, trees symbolize life and growth and in addition they are literal carbon vacuums. But planting the wrong tree in the incorrect place can do more harm than good. Forests are extremely diverse places! When have you ever walked through a forest and just seen the same tree? I’ll tell you where! In Mr. Beast’s forest! In planting a literal forest, one must pick and choose the right type of tree in order to increase biodiversity. As Greta Thunberg said in her speech at the U.N. in 2019, three days after the climate strike, Thunberg calls out leaders and politicians who make claims about achieving a more sustainable future “Words that sound great, but have no actions”. Planting 20,000,000 trees sounds great but not when there is no follow up to maintaining them. His “teamtree” stunt is evidence that no one really cares about climate change enough to put some actual thought into combatting it the right way.
In their 2008 tour, Radiohead opted to only play at venues close to public transportation. This limited the audience’s use of individual transportation, which was to cut down on fossil fuel that would have been burned in traveling to the venue. They included sales of plant based meals instead of the usual greasy burgers, fries and other festival foods. Even recycling, a seemingly normal part of everyday life, has been a major issue with tours. Billie Eilish had to request that there be recycling facilities within each venue, as most of the waste generated is typically discarded as trash that lives in landfills for centuries. These simple actions make the most difference, and contribute to global efforts to reduce global warming
It is evident that preformative activism is extremely dangerous and misleading. It’s more than just “Oh, save the turtles man” , “throw out your cars and live an extremely primitive lifestyle”. No, I mean yes but no. It is evidence that no one really cares about climate change and
that if we truly want to stop climate change we will stop using performance. Humans are one of millions of organisms that live on this beautiful deserving planet. And we have the right to be here. We are just as deserving as every bat, monkey, whale, fish and venus fly trap on this mud ball floating in space.
Jacob Altstein
Ms. Harrison
Composition for History and Culture
December 10, 2021
Phase Four Self Assessment
In the months leading up to my first semester at The City College of New York, my mind was constantly racing and pondering what it would be like here. This was going to be such a crazy and new time for me. I had no idea what to expect or what I was going to be walking into. I had high expectations for myself as a student. It was time for me to reinvent myself as a student. To see assignments through and keep up with due dates. I was heavily romanticizing my life as a college student. My days of slacking off were over. Time to be a real full-time student.
Looking back I would like to pose a question to myself from right before I started this first semester. “If you couldn’t do it then why do you think you’ll be able to do it now?” What makes you think that you’ll actually be able to get it done and stay consistent this time? All throughout elementary, middle, and high school you have only ever struggled academically? Yet somehow I managed and boom, here I am walking through the doors of the NAC for the first time. In elementary school, they said that in middle school the teachers aren’t going to be as kind and forgiving as they were. Then middle school came around and my teachers told me that my teachers in high school aren’t going to be as kind and easygoing as they were. Well, finally I arrived at high school, and just as they said in elementary and middle school, “Your college professors aren’t going to be as forgiving”.
From what I’ve observed so far in my first semester is that my professors are just more down to Earth and blunt rather than harsh and unforgiving. They are people just as I am. Above all of that, what I have come to realize is that at the end of the day it’s up to me. It’s up to me whether or not I get my work done or if it is on time. I’m on my own now, no more mom and dad nagging me or having access to my grades. That was a huge wake-up call for me.
Starting off this semester I was quick to start to “relearn” how to write. The very strict format of writing that had been glued to my brain was quickly washed away in some of the personal writing we did. Early on in the semester I really started to realize that no one in the “real world” writes the way I had been trained to write. I started to try and “mimic” the way some of my favorite authors structured their writing.
I started to begin to experiment with the tone of my writing. To try and find my voice and style and put it on pen and paper. I started experimenting with making my writing very conversational. Through this, my writing really sounds like it is coming from me. I really began this in my rhetorical analysis essay. Kicking it off I begin with, “ Hey all, sorry I’ve been distant as of late. I’ve been so submerged in Amy Tan’s essay titled Mother Tongue. Have you guys read it?”. At the time that felt extremely radical and strange to write as my intended audience was my roommates. But my tone and style matched as if I were actually talking to them. Over the course of this semester, I’ve really learned the significance of tone and intended audience. It makes up for a large portion of how I structure and approach my writing now. For example, right now, as I write this I am actively imagining Professor Harrison reading this.
Looking back at my phase two assessment that I wrote, I notice how critical of my work and overall performance I became. I started to call myself out on things I knew could have been better or more thought out. “ I did really start falling behind on the work about halfway through the semester when I broke my elbow.” I go on to say, “ This essay was very overwhelming at first, the task of writing it was extremely daunting”, in reference to my rhetorical analysis essay. With all the new writing skills that I have applied to my daily writing has come with a lot of self-awareness and check-ins.
Sometimes I like to narrate my days as if I’m a character in a Murakami novel. Not any particular character because they are all the same in every book. But there’s such a flow to his writing that even folding laundry and making pasta is so fun to read. I picture myself, knocking out task after task. All just to be perfectly described in a short and simple paragraph.
One of the most important things I’ve picked up during this class, I don’t know who taught me it or where it’s from. This would be getting it all down on the paper. All the random words and phrases. Wait, this is literally Shitty First Drafts. I suppose that I’ve taken a lot from that piece. The points and ideas discussed in it weren’t something new to me, in fact, I had been doing it all semester long. It was just that I now finally realized these strategies I had been doing. It was really nice to see them written on paper by someone else. It made me feel like I was doing something right. Of course, I’m talking about drafting and how it’s okay to write something that sounds like absolute garbage.
For example, here is a screenshot of my rhetorical analysis essay draft. It’s a mess! Just a jumble of random questions posed and answers. Random notes and phrases that I intended on using. But it’s ok, it was actually good as these thoughts and ideas were the skeleton and backbone of my essay to come.
L&L ESSAY
My eyes were only ever fixated on the clock above the door. Impatiently waiting for six o’clock to roll around, my teacher’s words drowned out as if we were underwater. I had never felt so lost and disinterested in an academic environment. This surly was not the fun play time I’ve heard the other kids talk about. 6 o’clock would roll around and my dad would finally appear at the door, rescuing me from this dreadful afterschool program.
Throughout my childhood, I’ve always heard my cousins boasting about “Hebrew school”. All the time Hebrew this Hebrew that. Jealousy ran through my veins. I imagined all the fun the other kids were probably having there. I begged and begged my parents to sign me up, they kindly agreed. This was great, behind those temple doors waited hours upon hours of kickball, apple juice and pure bliss. Or that’s what I thought of course. Little did I know that something much different awaited me within the confines of those temple walls. Something much more dull and academic. Reality hit me in the basement floor of Beth Elohim in Park Slope when my teacher struck me with two hours of being taught the Hebrew alphabet and a fat Hebrew vocabulary book. There were no kick balls to be seen, no sliced apples and juice. I had been deceived by those fools.
I felt stupid. Hebrew School made me feel stupid and incompitant. I could not for the life of me remember those letters, they resembled random squiggly lines to me. I have my earliest memories of giving up here. My perception of school and learning had been completely altered. Like many other days, I sat there on the carpet waiting for 6PM’s arrival.When the time finally came, I hit the cubbies, grabbed my stuff, and would be the first one out of there where my dad greets me. “Learn anything?” He asks
“Lotov” I respond in Hebrew which translates to “No Good”. All the parents around me found this quite humorous. All the hours I spent zoning out, but I made damn sure to learn how to tell my dad how bad Hebrew school was.
This was my first experience ever feeling “dumb” in a classroom environment. In all honesty these are really old memories that I’m digging up so it’s rather fuzzy. But around this time was when my teachers first contacted my parents about my unsatisfactory performance in their classes. I was taken to a number of psychologists, therapists as well as taken out of class to be “tested” by other teachers. Eventually I was diagnosed with ADHD. Looking back as a college student to myself as a kid in elementary school, having had a label that said “learning disability” slapped on my forehead left me feeling shattered and unworthy. Over the years as I got older, school did get more challenging for me. I could not read as “advanced” books as the other kids.
Throughout middle school and highschool I recall the ever growing feeling of just wanting to fail in peace. Did all of the accomodations I received in school make me feel worse about myself? Having received so much special attention over the years I felt worn, weathered and eroded. In school, everything seemed to be a constant reminder that I did not absorb information as well as the other students. I recall the summer before my junior year I begged my Mom to just put me in the regular class. I couldn’t stand yet another year of being sternly watched over by my teachers, explaining directions to me as if I were an incompitant child. I was to be treated just like everyone else, I had to come to terms with the fact that school is hard and I had to put in extra effort just to get a basic understanding of the content being taught. Just as she had agreed to let me go to Hebrew school, she was nice enough to give me a chance in ‘regular school”.
Junior year was a struggle but I felt as though I finally learned how to learn or at least got a loose idea of it. To this day I’m still learning how to become a better learner. Figuring out how my brain works and how I best absorb information. I am nowhere even close to figuring out how to be as efficient as possible. I feel as though I need to discipline myself better and rigidly organize how I spend my free time. The biggest difference between present day me and me a few years ago is that now I seek knowledge and enjoy reading.
My eyes were only ever fixated on the clock above the door. Impatiently waiting for six o’clock to roll around, my teacher’s words drowned out as if we were underwater. I had never felt so lost and disinterested in an academic environment. This surly was not the fun play time I’ve heard the other kids talk about. 6 o’clock would roll around and my dad would finally appear at the door, rescuing me from this dreadful afterschool program.
Throughout my childhood, I’ve always heard my cousins boasting about “Hebrew school”. All the time Hebrew this Hebrew that. Jealousy ran through my veins. I imagined all the fun the other kids were probably having there. I begged and begged my parents to sign me up, they kindly agreed. This was great, behind those temple doors waited hours upon hours of kickball, apple juice and pure bliss. Or that’s what I thought of course. Little did I know that something much different awaited me within the confines of those temple walls. Something much more dull and academic. Reality hit me in the basement floor of Beth Elohim in Park Slope when my teacher struck me with two hours of being taught the Hebrew alphabet and a fat Hebrew vocabulary book. There were no kick balls to be seen, no sliced apples and juice. I had been deceived by those fools.
I felt stupid. Hebrew School made me feel stupid and incompitant. I could not for the life of me remember those letters, they resembled random squiggly lines to me. I have my earliest memories of giving up here. My perception of school and learning had been completely altered. Like many other days, I sat there on the carpet waiting for 6PM’s arrival.When the time finally came, I hit the cubbies, grabbed my stuff, and would be the first one out of there where my dad greets me. “Learn anything?” He asks
“Lotov” I respond in Hebrew which translates to “No Good”. All the parents around me found this quite humorous. All the hours I spent zoning out, but I made damn sure to learn how to tell my dad how bad Hebrew school was.
This was my first experience ever feeling “dumb” in a classroom environment. In all honesty these are really old memories that I’m digging up so it’s rather fuzzy. But around this time was when my teachers first contacted my parents about my unsatisfactory performance in their classes. I was taken to a number of psychologists, therapists as well as taken out of class to be “tested” by other teachers. Eventually I was diagnosed with ADHD. Looking back as a college student to myself as a kid in elementary school, having had a label that said “learning disability” slapped on my forehead left me feeling shattered and unworthy. Over the years as I got older, school did get more challenging for me. I could not read as “advanced” books as the other kids.
Throughout middle school and highschool I recall the ever growing feeling of just wanting to fail in peace. Did all of the accomodations I received in school make me feel worse about myself? Having received so much special attention over the years I felt worn, weathered and eroded. In school, everything seemed to be a constant reminder that I did not absorb information as well as the other students. I recall the summer before my junior year I begged my Mom to just put me in the regular class. I couldn’t stand yet another year of being sternly watched over by my teachers, explaining directions to me as if I were an incompitant child. I was to be treated just like everyone else, I had to come to terms with the fact that school is hard and I had to put in extra effort just to get a basic understanding of the content being taught. Just as she had agreed to let me go to Hebrew school, she was nice enough to give me a chance in ‘regular school”.
Junior year was a struggle but I felt as though I finally learned how to learn or at least got a loose idea of it. To this day I’m still learning how to become a better learner. Figuring out how my brain works and how I best absorb information. I am nowhere even close to figuring out how to be as efficient as possible. I feel as though I need to discipline myself better and rigidly organize how I spend my free time. The biggest difference between present day me and me a few years ago is that now I seek knowledge and enjoy reading.
Jacob Altstein
Composition for History and Culture
Rhetorical Analysis Essay
Nov 1, 2021
Thoughts and Observations on Amy Tan
Hey all, sorry I’ve been distant as of late. I’ve been so submerged in Amy Tan’s essay titled Mother Tongue. Have you guys read it?… It’s this really special and unique piece. It’s like getting a glimpse into the hardships of growing up with a parent that speaks “differently”.You know what I mean right? Differently as opposed to the term broken english. I would never consider someone else’s form of English broken. I mean we don’t even speak standard american english so how could I judge someone else’s expression. A Lot of immigrant families can relate to this type of speech when they are getting accustomed to life in america. It’s hard out here in these streets, ya know. I’m sorry I’m boring you but I’m simply so enthralled with Tans’ take on this. She shares a personal story about language and family and stereotypes in her piece. I think something that she does really well is utilize pathos to describe her personal experience and appeal to a generally white audience. Funny coming from a white guy like me i guess.
So before we dive right into this, we all know what pathos is right? Oh, I guess not. Ok quick review! When someone is using pathos it means that they’re highlighting emotional impact, personal stories, pitiful situations, and so on. This is Tan’s main rhetorical technique she uses to really capture her audience. All of the stories and experiences that Tan shares throughout Mother Tongue really hits the reader in the soft spot. They all make you feel for her. As you can see it really worked as I actually feel the need to inform all of you guys about it.
So basically time and time again we can observe Tan using pathos throughout her essay. Tan describes how as a young girl her mother would make her yell at her stockbroker over the phone since he could not understand what Tan’s mother was saying. And then a week later they happened to be in New York City where her mother’s stockbroker resided and she had her daughter actually translate her mother’s fiery shouting. Tan recounts how she felt during the encounter, “I was sitting there red-faced and quiet, and my mother, the real Mrs. Tan, was shouting at his boss in her impeccable broken English.”. We’ve all been there, you’re with one of your parents at some retail store and the store worker brings your mom a size 9 shoe instead of the size 8 she asked for and she decides to turn into something between Godzilla and a Karen. And then you’re just sitting there feeling bad for the poor store employee who’s getting paid minimum wage just to get absolutely vaporized by your mother who is demanding to speak with their manager. Now obviously Tan’s mother was clearly being wronged by her broker but the emotions that were running through Tan’s head as her mother went ballistic on this guy are emotions we’ve all felt before. We’ve all felt what she felt.
Similarly, Tan appeals to pathos in a much more serious and morbid way in recalling a time when her mother’s health was discredited due to her speech. Imagine how scary it is finding out a loved one has a mysterious growth in their brain. That’s terrifying, brain tumors put away with people like it’s nothing. Now everyone is and should be entitled to fair and equal medical treatment. A chance to be treated and saved. Now when Tan’s mother went to the hospital to hear about a growth in her brain that a CAT scan had revealed, she was unapologetically told it had been lost and there was nothing to be done. Now I don’t know about you guys but if I was told that, I would throw a tantrum right there on the spot. That’s inexcusable for a condition so serious and fatal. You’re already worried sick for your loved one, clinging onto the last piece of hope there is, doctors, hospitals and modern medicine. And then you are told no, we’re not going to take you seriously because of the way the patient speaks and sounds. That’s terrifying and scary.
Mother Tongue is written from Tan’s point of view. The whole essay is riddled with “I” statements indicating that what she is talking about is from her own perspective. “I think my mother’s English almost had an effect on limiting my possibilities in life,” , “ I would see a burst of colors against a darkening sky,” , “ when I was fifteen”. This shows that she can not speak for anyone else’s experience aside from her own which ensures validation and reliability of all the stories and experiences that she shares.
Throughout Mother Tongue Tan uses vulnerability to appeal to pathos. To be vulnerable is to be susceptible to physical or emotional attack. She puts herself on the line constantly sharing hard to tell memories. Furthermore, it’s not just friends and family she’s sharing them with, she is broadcasting this to a worldwide audience, you can read Mother Tongue for free on the internet. This is a hard thing to do of course, it takes a ton of courage. Afterall you don’t see me writing a memoir highlighting all of the worst and embarrassing moments of my life. Her goal in this piece is to make her readers empathize with her raw and unfiltered story as she shares all the ugly and unpleasant truths of growing up with a parent that doesn’t speak standard American English. Her audience can find this stuff really worth reading. Assuming that her audience is for the most part, white people, there is much for us to learn and reflect on after reading Mother Tongue. I mean I don’t know about you guys but I had never really given much of what Tan touches upon much thought up until reading Mother Tongue. Prior to reading Mother Tongue did I discriminate and ignore people who don’t speak standard American English? No, definitely not. But now I feel more understanding of how hard it can be in American not speaking standard American English.
What Tan writes about really comes down to a simple lesson we’ve been taught our whole lives, don’t judge a book by it’s cover. Just as people judged her mother who was an extremely intelligent woman capable of probably more things than me. I’ve been taught about the stock market several times since elementary school and still I have no idea what it really is and how it works. Yet over here is Tan’s mother reading Forbes magazine and also a stock broker.
Screaming at her mother’s stockbroker over the phone, then again in person, having the hospital turn her mother around when she was in need of help and experiencing discrimination in the school system, Tan overcame. She became a famous Chinese-American writer. Her mom read her works and loved them. She speaks in front of immense audiences using words I can’t fathom. People love a story with a happy ending. It’s satisfying to see a rather turbulent story resolve itself at the end. It really appeals nicely to our emotions. Through all of this she is able to tug at the strings of the reader’s heart while also actively addressing their privilege they experienced having parents who speak standard American English.
LANGUAGE INTERVIEW
