In high school, I learned about a nice thing called “cultural diffusion." Cultural diffusion is the spread of beliefs and activities through different ethnicities, religions, and nationalities. I wrote several essays on it and made too many references to count because my history teacher was so enthusiastic about it that she couldn’t utter those two words without using jazz hands. Go figure.
Why was she so excited? Because it’s a beautiful thing--sharing your values with another and having them appreciate it so much that they want to share your values with their own friends and family.
Frankly, everything we wear, say, and believe stems from another culture. With quick Google searches, I found that the bathrobe I’m wearing is a mock of the Japanese yukata, a casual summer kimono. I recently colored my hair for the first time; the first at-home hair coloring kit was made by Schwarzkopf, a German cosmetics company. Thank you, Japan and Germany; you’ve made me comfortable and beautiful this evening.
No, thank you, cultural diffusion, for bringing Japan and Germany to me. With advancements in transportation technology and mass migration, cultural diffusion brought me the best of each nation and each culture. And, in our greatest age of technological advancement, my generation has renamed cultural diffusion as “cultural appropriation."
People will sit in restaurants in Chinatown and complain about Justin Bieber’s dreads and Kylie’s cornrows. Do you get what’s actually wrong with that picture? What is the cultural appropriation there? The cornrows, or the fact that random towns all over America have focused areas for Chinese eateries and shops? Right. Keep sipping your tea--which, by the way, is also originally from China, not from Kermit the Frog, an American Muppet.
Before posting and stirring up debates about famous people or white people stealing your culture, stop for a second and realize all that cultural diffusion (not appropriation) has done for you. Sushi. St. Patrick’s Day, and Cinco De Mayo. All religions. Paper. Arguably, the English language.
When Rihanna released "Pon De Replay" as her debut single, I was so happy my culture was making a name for itself among my friends at school, who would otherwise not understand a word my parents said. Fast forward eleven years later: Drake collaborates with Popcaan, and Machel Montano collaborates with Ariana Grande. I’m so proud.
This year, two really cool things happened. Beyonce and Coldplay showed elements of Holi in their video, which featured Beyonce as a Bollywood actress. And "Fuller House" had an Indian-themed party. Both of these instances made me, again, so proud of my culture. But so many people did not feel the same way.
People felt that Beyonce was exposing the slums of historic India. In modern India, street dancers no longer exist; India has nightclubs for partying. Did nightclubs come from India? Actually, Webster Hall is credited as the first modern nightclub. Where is Webster Hall? It’s not in India. So what is this? Cultural diffusion! America giving to India and India giving to America in return.
People felt that an Indian-themed party in an American show was inappropriate. Because I’m sure none of them have ever been to luaus before. Cultural diffusion is our culprit yet again.
The point I’m trying to make here is that accusing someone or a group of people of taking your culture without your permission is not fair and, honestly, very audacious. Yes, it is weird that women all over the world suddenly want big lips because of, yet again, Kylie Jenner. But isn’t it a beautiful thing that women are finally praised for luscious lips, full, healthy bodies, and curves? Why can't we appreciate the fact that our cultures are finally being recognized, rather than claiming ourselves as victims of theft?
I think we have all gotten a little too paranoid about cultural appropriation. In turn, we have forgotten all that cultural diffusion has brought us. So, keep doing your yoga downtown and rocking your om signs everywhere else--I’m happy we can all share the peace and tranquility of my religion.