Every October, photographs of pumpkin patches and corn mazes populate our Instagram feeds. Pinterest boards entitled “Halloween costume ideas” pick up speed and tweets of skillfully carved pumpkins rise to the trending list. And every October, a variation of a tagline first coined in 2011 re-circulates across social media platforms: Not Your Costume.
The history of racist Halloween costumes extends as far back as Halloween itself. In the United States, dressing up for the holiday has been documented as early as the early 20th century. While most costumes were primarily homemade, depicting classic themes like ghosts and witches, there were also racially insensitive depictions. The most popular of these included donning a turban to imagine oneself as someone from the “Far East” and wearing blackface.
The celebration of Halloween shifted during the Great Depression. Prior to the 1930s, Americans “celebrated” by masking their identity and playing tricks, usually through vandalism. To keep their children safe, parents began organizing activities like trick-or-treating and haunted houses. Department stores began selling costumes, which gradually became more affordable and, consequently, more popular. In the 1950s, one might see children dressed up as princesses, Batman, and cowboys and “Indians.” Halloween continued this path down commercialization and, over the decades, costumes depicting pop culture and political figures grew in popularity.
In the 2010s, with the increased accessibility of information and social media, the narrative around racist costumes shifted. In 2011, Ohio University students launched a poster campaign that sought to “make revelers think twice before reducing a culture to a caricature” (CNN). Each poster portrayed a student of color holding an image of a grossly stereotypical costume. “We’re a culture, not a costume,” each poster read, “This is not who I am, and this is not okay.”
The campaign went viral on Tumblr, and was covered by CNN and The Huffington Post. The student leaders gained widely positive reception and full support from the dean of students. However, not everyone understood the value of their message and belittled the students. The posters were mocked and parodied, and users took to the Internet to label these students, and their supporters, as “cry babies” and “snowflakes.” Halloween is meant to be fun, they had said.
But where’s the fun in reducing one’s identity to cheap makeup and a racist caricature? Especially when the identities being caricatured are often marginalized, these costumes are more than offensive. They contribute to marginalization.
Writer and educator Dr. Jelani Cobb put it best:
“To treat a character like Batman or Superman as a Halloween costume is one thing, but to treat an entire ethnicity as a costume is something else. It suggests that people conflate the actual broad diversity of a culture with caricatures and characters.”
— CNN
Racist costumes can be seen not only on Halloween but also year-round. As a student at my alma mater, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, I was disappointed to learn that in 2013, several students at a 1970s themed fraternity party donned rice hats and posed with their hands clasped, a cheap attempt at a “Vietnamese” costume. Just a few months prior to this party, a fraternity at UNC’s rival school, Duke University, held an “Asian-themed” party. The outcome was about as racist and offensive as you would expect. Predictably, the fraternities apologized. Whether these apologies made students of color at their universities feel safer remains to be seen.
While the Ohio University students were not the first to condemn racist costumes, their campaign introduced many Millennials and Gen Z to the term “cultural appropriation.” Cambridge Dictionary defines cultural appropriation as “the act of taking or using things from a culture that is not your own, especially without showing that you understand or respect this culture.” Many young people grew up in a society where this was normalized; non-Japanese people wearing kimonos on Disney Channel and at award shows, non-South Asians wearing bindis as a fashion accessory, and non-Natives wearing feathered headdresses to music festivals and on the runway.
While brands like Victoria’s Secret and influential figures like Katy Perry have publicly apologized for committing cultural appropriation, there are still many who refuse to admit to their wrongdoing. This includes repeat offender Gwen Stefani, who, in response to criticism of her appropriation of Japanese culture, postulated that cultures are meant to be bought, sold, and traded. What Stefani fails to understand is that “buying” a culture without the consent of the traditional practitioners is theft. Furthermore, commodifying a culture that is not yours, like those women who “refreshed” the centuries-old game of Mahjong, exploits the community you’re attempting to emulate.
There are ways to honor and participate in other cultures. In other words, you can engage in cultural appreciation, not appropriation. This, of course, starts with supporting the traditional practitioners. Finally, with Halloween around the corner, I hope to see more costumes using imagination, rather than a narrow mind. After all, on a day when you can be anything, why choose to be a bigot?
How have you honored a culture that isn’t your own?
Deepen your understanding of cultural appropriation with the following resources:
Education Week : “Addressing Cultural Appropriation in the Classroom: Tools and Resources”
LAist: “Racism 101: At What Point Does Cultural Appreciation Cross Over Into Appropriation?”
The Beacon: “Opinion Submission: From an unapologetic Hawaiian”
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