Not for nothing, but your nose is a racist.

by carolinedagati

I, like Jesse, note the interesting inclusion of these pieces with regard to media studies.  Though I can’t vocalize how precisely, I do find them extremely pertinent and really enjoyed them.  I think media studies is essentially the study of what hits our senses and how it effects us.  If anyone else finds that to be an acceptable explanation, then I think these readings are absolutely for our field.  Spending time in New York, I found Howes’s piece particularly intriguing.  I liked the illustration of Filipina domestic workers congregating in central Hong Kong and producing “an alternative sensorium.”  There is actually protest from other members of the community because they see the introduction of foreign smells as offensive.  The article quotes, “the senses are far from innocent: the senses are situated practice that can shed light on the way bodies experience different spaces of culture.’  The senses are political.”  This is not merely the presence of the smells of people, but the intentional introduction of smells into a shared landscape. The perceptibility of the new smells by the rest of the community actually produces a degree of anger and multicultural unrest.  In essence, people are racist against smells.  This particular illustration struck a chord with me as we are in New York and get to enjoy a fascinating smellscape any time we leave the classroom.  I often chide myself because  I absolutely abhor the odor emanating from the Halal food carts on the way to class.  I have long felt bad and wondered if this makes me a racist.  Evidently, yeah, it kind of unintentionally does.

Another fun illustration of the sociopolitical implications of the sensorium was in the article’s mention of the preference of Soviet-made goods in post-Soviet territories.  The article remarked that some people still desired Soviet goods over higher-quality Western ones, “…because of their ‘cruder’ sensory qualities and identity-confirming characteristics (an identity now lost).”  I am currently doing a lot of research on nostalgia in advertising and media and I found this to be in a similar vein.  People hold on to certain products because of the sense of reclaiming a historical or personal era that has long past.  It says quite something that we depend on the look and feel of particular material items to reaffirm our identities.

6 Comments to “Not for nothing, but your nose is a racist.”

  1. I found the part about people in post-Soviet territories and their desire to for Soviet goods to be an enlightening point. We become acquainted with the places that surround us and in turn the goods that fill up the places. There are still things that I desire which only come from home, especially, my neighbors maple syrupy. It is like any other real maple syrupy but theirs brings about memories from my childhood and to me a different taste. I find this to be the same with smells around the city too. I love the halal food because it reminds me of eating them in Greece and takes me back there. It is all in the eye of the beholder and I don’t think that it makes you racist, it just means you don’t like the smell.

  2. You’re just trying to make me feel better, Jesse. Empirically, I know that not liking the smell of Halal food makes me a racist. World, I apologize. Le sigh.

  3. I agree wholeheartedly – media studies is a largely sensory-driven field and rather than just reading and seeing, we hear, experience, feel and create. Arguably each medium creates its own sensorium unique to itself, and unique to the user of the medium, and the experience within an urban space as Zardini discusses couldn’t be a better example. BUT – and not to be contrary (as much as you know I love to be) – I have to agree with Jesse and bring back something he mentioned in his post. I feel nearly the same way for the Chinatown fish markets as you do for Halal carts, Caroline (or at least I think I do). But I also feel this way whenever I walk past a diner and smell bacon, or when I find myself near a ‘real New Yawk steakhouse’ and smell that happy, beefy smell wafting through the air. I hate, HATE all three of those. But that doesn’t mean I’m racist towards the people cooking/selling/eating these things. It just means I really hate those smells. So unless you find yourself thinking “ew, gross, Halal cart smells and I hate people who cook it”, I think you’re ok! Plus, we wouldn’t be in New York City if we didn’t have these scents composing the sensorium that is ‘the streets of New York City’. With the smell of the cart comes the sound of sizzling mystery meat, the sight of said meat skewered and spinning, then being shaved off into a pita as an order is placed and the taste of the special white sauce as it hits your tongue (not speaking from experience – no way I’ll ever eat ‘street meat’, and no my tongue is not racist). The whole experience is a part of everyday life in the city, and the city wouldn’t be the same without little overloaded sensory experiences such as this.
    Another point I was about to mention in my own post but I’ll just stick you with an extremely long comment instead – the connection between sense and identity is something that stood out to me as well. Perhaps my Buffalonian sense of smell is cruder and far too nostalgic for its own good, but I like to think that living in that cold, grey city is a big part of my identity, and now that I live in a new city where I’m likely expected to stay permanently, I find myself drawn to sounds of excited fans outside MSG after a lively match of ice hockey, or the intoxicating smell of buttery spicy chicken wings as they pass me at a pub. Why do these specific senses stand out to me and evoke stronger reactions for me than anything else within the sensorium that is New York? Because they are something I identify with as the stubborn Soviets did, and – as you mentioned – nostalgia kicks in, thus making certain sensory experiences more meaningful. There we go, that’s exactly where I wanted to go with this rambling – the medium itself is the message, the medium here is a spicy drumstick, and the message is “though I am a mere piece of deep fried bird carcass, I will bring emotions and thoughts out of you via your senses that you never thought possible – now take it to the face!!”

  4. Despite the fact that I am unconvinced that Caroline is racist in any way, shape or form, I do think that your point brings to light a larger point about how sense-oriented our discourses on race are in way. The visual and audial senses usually provide the context for racism or prejudice. For example, some ‘says’ something pejorative about something that they have ‘seen.’ We do not usually register dislike of or an aversion to smells or tastes as having any sort of racial or ethnic element. Instead, we consider these preferences as having their root in an innate personal (almost biological) predilection. Whether or not we like a certain food is down to our taste buds, not our minds. However, we do not associate the same process of preference with regard to visual input, especially in the context of race. If one was to voice some kind of dislike of a particular ethnicity based on the visual appearance of that ethnicity, this would normally be considered racist behavior.
    There could be a more deep-seated and negative cause for our dislike and likes in smell. At least it seems the me, that those preferences in smell could possibly have some sort of connection to our personal thoughts on race just as visual preferences do. However, racism has more complex contours, which make relating one’s sensory preferences to a racist inclination way too simplistic. For the record, I quite enjoy Halal food.

  5. You all make really good points. I don’t know if it was intentional, but you made me laugh. Thank’s!

  6. Disliking a smell isn’t racist, racism by definition I believe is based “on a system of advantage” disliking smells however does not give you an advantage over their style of cooking… food for thought (pun intended)

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