Update: Climbing From A Descent As An Empire Falls (Part VII)

Featured image above is Isabella Salimpour, daughter of Suhaila Salimpour, at Bal Anat performance. Original picture comes from: https://www.instagram.com/p/CwatBT4xj0X/

Content warning: cultural appropriation, anti-immigrant racism, “culture war”,” politics, Orientalist stereotypes

I could talk about my continued existential dead I feel and how I am wondering if I will survive the next few years. These feelings linger and persist no matter how much I try to reframe the situation this empire delivering its death knell has wrought upon its people. Perhaps I may address such again soon, seeing I am behind on my once a week blog post goal I had set for myself to return a writing habit after years of falling off in so many ways.

For now, I will talk about something else. The topic is not new, my words are not unique, and yet the subject ever remains relevant: cultural appropriation. Specifically, I am addressing cultural appropriation in the dance scene.

Cultural Appropriation in the Dance Scene (Mainly Bellydancing)

Note the parentheses. Discussions of cultural appropriation in the bellydancing scene, or raqs sharqi, or Middle Eastern dance scene that also had been widespread in to East European and Spanish dance circles, has been ongoing for over a decade if not since 9/11. More than once, I have interrogated myself on what it means for me to engage in this dance space. It has become especially relevant to me as a mixed race White-Asian girl who in the past has been mistaken as people of Southwest Asian and North African (SWANA) descended peoples, including by members thereof. Am I taking space existing in the scene? Should I continue this dance? There does not exist a day I do not ask this, as I look at my world fusion dance lineage being traced to Suhaila Salimpour’s family who had founded what they once called American Tribal Style (ATS), support her workshops, and partake in world fusion dance with multiple women (including women of color) in the scene.

Randa Jarrer had written an article on the topic over a decade ago by this point. Her stance based on this article had caused an outrage among many long time dancers, especially white women dancers. She feels white women cannot partake in the dance, at the least not without accepting criticism from their SWANA peers when doing so. When I look at Randa Jarrer, I do not feel as strong a reaction to her as some have. I see someone speaking from a place of hurt, who has to watch people dress as caricatures of her people regularly and stereotype her people while painting a lot of us under a similar broad stroke because of “being that look.” I see someone well aware of countries who may stigmatize professional dancers from their local cultures while bringing in women (often white but not always) to their clubs. More, I see her among the women who had been pushed out of these dance spaces over time by both outsiders and people in their own community.

A number of SWANA women, including Parya, who takes a slightly different approach to her on addressing issues of cultural appropriation, have witnessed their own people mistreat women dancers systemically, something of which I notably blame western imperialism because of this article and Parya’s, as well as my own study of how dances had been stigmatized in their native cultures. Suhaila Salimpour addresses this history on her page, as well. Though for now I would not say that white women cannot participate in bellydancing (read further for why), I believe Randa Jarrer’s criticism deserves attention.

I had seen plenty of articles by white women dancers suggest she had a few facts wrong, or that she had praised a Brazilian descended dancer while saying the dance space belonged to SWANA women. These sort of nitpicks of bellydance knowledges though are irrelevant to the larger issue: the cultural appropriation and pervasiveness of orientalism such of and therefrom. People can debate whether SWANA descended teachers, or any women of color are self-exploiting in their teaching the dance(s) to others until the end of times. To that end, I wish to invite people to consider something else in this discussion. Why do many accusations of cultural appropriation happen?

A lot of it comes down to many, historically, acting thoughtless at best to the history of the cultural elements taken out of context and performed by the dominant group. With this, the end result being the mocking of groups (often inaccurately, shallowly) represented. The unfortunate reality is the history of bellydance has no small amount of cultural appropriation tied to its history, elements of it having evolved from the increased commodification of certain ideas and things from Asia (particularly the Middle East and North Africa). All of which, was and still often is filtered through an orientalist lense. Suhaila Salimpour had once remarked in interviews this dark side to the history of the art.

And of course, one outcome of many regarding this history includes the latest ‘Arabian Nights themed’ party at at Mar-A-Lago by the 47th President of the United States. In this scene, one does not have people “appreciating bellydance” or “culture,” everything about this party hearkens to historical (and often offensive) stereotypes regarding people from SWANA backgrounds, all of whom have their own unique cultures, histories, and importantly: peoples. These particular aesthetics shown in the party scene here become what commonly elicits criticisms of cultural appropriation. I find issue with not just a dance or an outfit or one thing but the whole. All of this and context matters. I may not be Arab, but even I felt offended by what I watched of the video in this article recently posted by George Takei. A recent post exemplified my reaction (and call out) succinctly:

We live in a time where any of us who has an ounce of melanin could be harassed by border agents (I had a few instances the past few years), or have family who might risk being deported simply because they were not born in this country. Yet, the very people responsible for all of this and celebrate this fact throw ‘themed parties’ with women clearly only there as eye-candy, wearing “genie pants” (I prefer the terms ‘salwar’ or ‘Punjabi pants’; or fishermen’s pants [where my family comes from]), and showcasing camels all around. They do all this and then, in a further demonstration of their absurdity, have Spanish music playing in the middle of an ‘Arabian nights’ themed party. According to these people, there exists no difference between any of these groups demonized by them.

With Existing Cultural Appropriation Issues, Should We Continue the Dance?

This brings me back to the original question I regularly ask myself when it comes to the dance, or cultural appropriation of such: should I continue this dance with cultural appropriation being a legitimate concern? Some might say an absolute yes, but being someone who is more familiar with the nuanced, and often messy elements of this topic, I am not giving such a clear-cut opinion. Multiple other women of SWANA descent had spoken of having no issue with bellydancing so long as people showed respect, which means not dance or dress in a hypersexual manner.

One of my colleagues said it best: ‘sensual is not sexual.’ Alana Bannourah opines similar that as long as women partaking in raqs sharqi show respect and do not wear traditional outfits out of context and are not perpetuating orientalistic stereotypes (hypersexualized dances for instance), she does not mind. Her sentiments are not unique in this. Parya, Iranian born and a member of the Suhaila Salimpour School of Dance discusses this while also offering ways for people not of SWANA cultures to help promote and center artists of color when they learn the dance(s). A legitimate issue I have found in my search for instructors is being without end surrounded by exclusively white women who could not care about the meaning of the song they choreograph, want to ‘celebrate sexuality with the dance,’ and vote for politicians who would disappear and deport the very people who taught them the dance.

I may change my own opinion on this topic as I learn more and consider my future dance spaces. This, is what I have to be open toward if I am with a good conscience to continue this dance. Every instructor I consider for teaching me raqs sharqi, or ‘bellydance’ or world fusion dance or any traditional dance have to be willing to have conversations about this topic. The dance group surrounding her also has to as a general rule also be willing to do so. Being someone who had been subjected to seeing people wear her family’s traditional garb without the decency of having pants or skirts with it, I am very sympathetic to concerns regarding the hypersexualization of one’s culture, perpetuating stereotypes, and the long-term ramifications of such othering.

I will write on something else next time. Onward, until then!

—Arya

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