Editor’s note: Parsa Aghel is, in addition to being an opinion columnist for the Daily Emerald, the ASUO Press Secretary. Though he interviewed ASUO President Isaiah Boyd for this article, the views expressed are his own and not those of ASUO as an organization.
“I’m a POC.” A few days ago, the Student Insurgent published a political cartoon depicting racist stereotypes. When the newspaper received criticism, this was the artist’s defense. Anonymous but Black, the artist dismissed criticism of their work, suggesting that to call an artist of color’s work racist is a fallacy in itself.
I disagree. Art, by anyone, can be racist or perpetuate racism.
Let us start with the context of the art. The comic depicted UO Vice President for Student Life Kevin Marbury, a Black man, holding ASUO President Isaiah Boyd, another Black man, by his hair locs as both men held guns behind their backs. Before them was a group of blank-faced blue individuals meant to represent the ASUO Senate. The imagery was designed — poorly — to critique two Black men for their decision to move the EMU off of the I-Fee. The decision was subject to campus outrage as many claimed it ceded student control of a central part of campus.
I have no comment on the I-Fee and think every student reserves the right to critique any decision made by the student government. But this cartoon does more than attempt to critique the ASUO president — it perpetuates unnecessary racist stereotypes.
Hair is a historically significant and sensitive topic to depict. Multiple testimonials by Black individuals reveal the poignant history of ownership over Black hair. Touching Black hair, for example, is distinctly intertwined with a history of White people having the right to Black bodies. To show Boyd, held by his locs, perpetuates this notion of Black individuals lacking personhood.
My analysis of Black imagery in comics can only say so much as a non-Black individual. I spoke to President Boyd to discuss the impact of the cartoon on him.
In a saddening and vulnerable statement, he told me “I’ve had my locs for almost nine years,” and that they have been a staple of his identity and pride in his culture. But his “hair has also been used as a weapon [against him],” and this comic is another instance of that.
“To see a depiction of me, being held by my hair, threatening (although not directly depicted but certainly implied) a predominately White group was demoralizing… A Black man with locs threatening a White body with a gun is quite literally the go to media depiction of any Black or Brown person,” Boyd said.
Because of this history, because of this comic, Boyd has decided to cut his hair “to cut away the tainted pride [he] felt through [his] hair.”
These impacts are why responding “I’m a Black POC” is a pathetic defense of the comic. We have a duty to criticize and counter racism, even if our flawed nation protects it through the First Amendment.
To my surprise, not everyone recognizes the cartoon’s egregious connotations. A UO student’s tweet joked, “Not Schill admitting to like 40k people that he was too stupid to understand a political cartoon.” This tweet refers to President Schill’s rebuke of the comic. Schill wrote, in spite of his ardent belief in free speech on campus, the comic’s racist imagery was “repulsive,” and the UO community should condemn and disown any behavior that violates these two principles. I do not think Schill misunderstood the comic. Showing two Black men holding guns behind their backs, with one held by his hair, has no political merit that would show a reader “oh, they are critiquing ASUO and the admin.”
It is unnecessary. As a result, I’m not surprised the cartoon and the defense are nowhere to be found on the Insurgent’s website.
Claiming that being a POC is a defense against bigotry is flawed in this context. This is not to say that Black and POC artists are held to the same standards as a White artist. There is a rich movement of Black artists repurposing racist caricatures to depict racial advancement. Rebecca Wanzo’s book “The Content of Our Caricature” explores this. The book showcases the efforts of artists like Jeremy Love, who illustrates a young Black girl escaping a golliwog doll. Though the golliwog doll is a racist caricature, Love repurposes it to depict those who have died from racist violence who cannot let go of their bodies.
Art can use stereotypes to provide a rich commentary. The Insurgent’s does not. I despise the notion that being a POC can excuse racism. Defending racism under the defense of being an artist of color simply provides non-Black readers the opportunity to revel in racist imagery that they have learned are no longer tolerated.
Schill is right that the First Amendment does not morally justify any act. In fact, I wish this standard will be applied to every deplorable act — for example, the uncriticized College Republicans last year when they posed gleefully among the Proud Boys, a domestic terrorist organization.
I am happy the political cartoon is nowhere to be found on the internet. But the disappearance of the act does not erase its ramifications. Boyd’s heartbreak and his decision to cut his hair is proof of this. We must criticize this art. We must denounce it. To decry one monstrous cartoon does not eradicate bigotry, but allowing it to exist in silence invites its acceptance.
