Spock as a Metaphor for the Construction of Race During My Childhood Consider the mathematics of my German father. The unconditional tears of my Filipino mother. Call me Spock, but it was logic versus emotion every day on Earth. Out in space, there are over a million miles between asteroids in an asteroid field. It’s pretty much impossible to hit one unless you actually aim for it. Not so on Star Trek. There, they have to grit their teeth, put their shields up, crash a couple times and assess the damage. As a kid, I was amazed by the skill of those spacemen, “skill” which I soon realized was nothing more than sheer incompetence. Hitting an asteroid? There’s just no excuse for that. A modest revelation. But these revelations strung themselves together, orbited the planet in ways that messed with things like gravity and light. It went like this: You knew you could fly until your first attempt left you with two broken teeth. You knew you were like all the other kids, until your best friend said, No, you’re not. And he was right. And in that moment, something shifted. The galaxy became real, and in its realness, the asteroids seemed so much closer than you thought. You were half-alien, staring down an eternity that was both limitless and dangerous as a captain’s voice boomed from above: Brace for impact, we’re going down. -Matthew Olzmann
Posted on: Thu, 07 Nov 2013 22:05:12 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015