For any American high school student with aims of going to a four-year university, there exists a window of repeated ethnic and racial self-identification. For Iranian American youth like Roya, from her first standardized college admissions test through her final campus housing questionnaire, she is profiled, guided, sorted, and coded into the following ethno-racial definition: “White/Caucasian: a person having origins in any of the original peoples of Europe, the Middle East, or North Africa.” The politics around checking the right box are vexing to Roya:
White teachers and counselors have tried to correct me when I claim an “other” racial identity. They say, “If you’re Iranian, then you’re white.” And it’s like, okay, can you pronounce my last name correctly, please? Tell me what other “white” countries are sanctioned, exploited, and vilified the way Iran is right now? And am I “white” like you when I’m at the airport? No. I’m not white.
If you drive west for thirty minutes from Houston, Texas, you’ll arrive at Nonmacher’s Bar-B-Que, an eight hundred–square-foot restaurant open since 1978. The walls are lined with mementos collected over time by owner John Nonmacher. There are faded rodeo ribbons, smoke-singed trucker hats, studio portraits of John Wayne, and a framed pencil drawing of Nonmacher himself. There is also an eleven- by seventeen-inch, sepia-toned poster of nineteen rifle-wielding men in ten-gallon hats mugging for the camera. Behind them are three objects hanging off an old oak tree: the flag of the United States, the state flag of Texas, and a bearded, turbaned man with a noose around his neck. His mouth is slack, and his arms hang heavy. Under the staged photograph, a caption in Old Western typeface cheerfully suggests to Nonmacher’s patrons, “Let’s Play Cowboys and IRANIANS!”
Nonmacher first pinned the poster to his restaurant wall in 1979, and it hangs there still today. Before his death in 2013 at age sixty-eight, Nonmacher was asked if the poster was racist. “I laughed and I’m still laughing,” he said, referring to a locally organized protest of the restaurant in 2011. “I won’t take it down.”1 And why would he? Business at Nonmacher’s had been good, and thanks to the attention drawn by his poster and the protest over it, getting better. An enthusiastic counterprotest had packed the house with paying customers from open to close, as patient would-be eaters brandishing American flags stretched out into a line past the parking lot and down the block. Nonmacher marveled at how long customers were willing to wait for a table: “Yesterday was one of the best days we’ve ever had. . . . I mean, I knew we had fans and friends, but this is just golly God!”2 One of the organizers of the 2011 protest of Nonmacher’s poster, a second-generation Iranian American from Houston, remarked, “A poster like that doesn’t unite people. There’s no reason why there should be racism around.”3 But, if anything, the poster had seemed to unite people—in defense of racism, or something like it.
It is not particularly remarkable that Roya would describe frustration over her assigned demographic box or that Nonmacher would express pleasure at the controversy over his poster. What is remarkable, however, is that these everyday stories involving Iranian Americans are rarely understood as matters of race. Scholars, policy makers, and even Iranian Americans themselves typically reconcile such problems as expressions of “anything but race”: ethnic and cultural difference, religious intolerance, or anti-immigrant nativism. These explanations are powerful, up to a point, but they ignore the everyday politics that provoke racial claims to an “other” identity among legally white Iranian Americans like Roya. And in the case of Nonmacher’s restaurant, they neutralize, or risk misunderstanding, the symbolic racial fantasy of how exactly American cowboys could “play” with the Iranians in their midst and why they might do so decades before today’s anxieties around “nuclear Iran,” Islam, and the War on Terror.
If Nonmacher’s poster and the snaking line of eager customers it attracted were not inspired by race and racism, it doesn’t show from the actual image captured on the poster itself. To derace Nonmacher’s poster is to ignore its central reference to white vigilantism and the lynching of African Americans. To derace Nonmacher’s poster is also to omit the poster’s caption, which appropriates the cowboys-and-Indians trope to amalgamate indigeneity and Iranianness in the service of shorthand for a racial battle between the “civilized” and the “barbaric.”4 To explain a poster of a fantasized American lynching as ethnic bigotry, religious intolerance, or nativist hatred is to tell twenty-eight-year-old Husein Hadi, the Iranian American organizer who said, “There’s no reason why there should be racism around,” that at Nonmacher’s Bar-B-Que there is in fact no racism around.
Likewise, it is hard to reconcile an anything-but-race explanation for teachers and guidance counselors advising seventeen-year-old Roya to check a box declaring her racial whiteness or her frustrated response as she resists. In fact, it might surprise Nonmacher and his customers to hear from one of Roya’s guidance counselors that the limp, lifeless Iranian at the center of the poster is, according to US federal classification, as white as the cowboys surrounding him. And it might surprise Roya’s guidance counselor to know that there is a controversial “Aryan myth” of cultural and racial superiority that circulates within Roya’s own multigenerational Iranian American family and community. Yet these sorts of “rank-and-file” discrepancies over the racial classifications and self-understandings of Iranian Americans should not be confused for an absence of race—they are evidence of the prevailing presence of race.5
Caught in the chasm between formal ethno-racial invisibility and informal hypervisibility, Iranian Americans work, love, and live through a core social paradox: Their everyday experiences of racialization coexist with their legal, and in some cases, internal “whitewashing.”6 This paradox helps explain the frustration in Roya’s voice as she is folded into a unifying white racial category beside the same white counterparts from whom she, and other minorities in the United States, most often face social exclusion and prejudice. At the time, however, Roya did not actually press the point with the authority figures at her massive California public high school. Although she disagreed with them, she understood that they were probably just following the rules of official categorization. Some of Roya’s high school classmates, on the other hand, understood the rules of race in America differently, or perhaps they played by different rules altogether:
[They] were like, “You’re brown, little chola girl; come sit with us.”7 And you know, because my last name was different, I’m hairy, I’m Persian, my neighborhood, I was almost ashamed of my identity. But Mexican people accepted me. They saved me from hating me.
To understand Iranian American lives only through the lens of ethnicity, religion, or nationality risks mistaking or ignoring what Roya says when she describes exactly who it was that saved her and how and why they saved her. To treat Roya’s experiences as being indicative of anything but race is to reify and naturalize Iranian whiteness and to ignore the many everyday moments in which Iranian Americans are imagined—and imagine themselves—outside its limits.
Racial Hinges, Racial Loopholes
The terms “white” and “non-white” are used in this book when describing the racial status of Iranian Americans across different contexts and situations. It draws on the political, moral, and epistemological meaning of the terms as described by Charles Mills in The Racial Contract.8 According to Mills, the ongoing and shifting classification of people as “white”/“non-white” rests on in-group/out-group dynamics with massive social, political, and economic consequences, reproduced through cognitive, moral, and cultural frames. His political-philosophical definition of race as marked by full versus subordinate personhood is central to this book’s presentation and interpretation of data about Iranian Americans. Therefore, the goal of this book is not to make prescriptive claims about how Iranian Americans should be correctly racially classified. Instead, the goal is to interrogate how Iranian Americans came to be categorized as white de jure, to explore if they are socially incorporated as white de facto, and to assess what this case tells us about how whiteness operates on the ground today.9
To date, studies of American whiteness have centered on European or Anglo contexts and diasporas and consistently tell a unidirectional story of how groups become white.10 Thus, sociologists and historians have shown, for example, how the Irish were paid in “wages of whiteness,” how Italians were made “white on arrival,” and how “Jews became white folks.”11 Barring a few exceptions, there has been little orientation toward examining two areas: whiteness and its related logics of exclusion for non-Western groups, and how whiteness can be intermittently granted and revoked, or mismatched in the law and on the ground.12
In light of how the Iranian American case complicates our understandings of race and whiteness, I offer two new concepts. The first, “racial hinges,” captures how the geographic, political, and pseudoscientific specter of a racially liminal group, like Iranians, can be marshaled by a variety of legal and extralegal actors into a symbolic hinge that opens or closes the door to whiteness as necessary. The second, “racial loopholes,” describes the everyday contradictions and conflicts that emerge when a group’s legal racial categorization is inconsistent with its on-the-ground experience of racialization or deracialization. In addition to complicating our understanding of whiteness by focusing on its flexibility at the outermost limits, the case of Iranian Americans also deepens our understanding of the interplay between top-down and bottom-up racialization processes, as well as troubling long-standing assumptions about assimilation by immigrant groups into mainstream American society.
Iranian American Racialization or Assimilation?
There has been a recent call in mainstream sociology to expand research on “racialization.”13 Of the major sociological approaches that draw on racialization, including Eduardo Bonilla-Silva’s racialized social system and color-blind racism and Joe Feagin’s systemic racism, research on Middle Eastern Americans tends to draw on racial formation theory as articulated by Michael Omi and Howard Winant.14 Racial formation theory argues that race is inextricably connected to the state and in constant and dynamic tension with hegemonic practice from above and political struggle from below. Scholars have elaborated on the top-down half of racial formation theory with great zeal. For example, an interdisciplinary body of scholarship, critical race studies, offers major insight into the legal logic and illogic of racial categories, most often at the macro- and meso-levels.15 Racialization research does not treat race as an unchanging reflection of biology and culture or a reflection of amalgamations of differently situated indicators like socioeconomic status and intermarriage; rather, race is a master status tied to group oppression and domination.
This book is part of an emerging movement to more completely integrate the study of immigration with the study of race and, by extension, assimilation and racialization. Research in this stream recognizes immigration as a site of racial struggle and accounts for US nativism as a battleground where “in-between” groups are browned.16 In so doing, work that integrates the sociology of immigration with the sociology of race has pushed back against the Black/white binary that continues to motivate theoretical concerns in studies of assimilation and racialization and reengages both the top-down and bottom-up processes described by racial formation theory.
An analysis of Iranian American life demonstrates the broader conceptual and explanatory purchase of an integrated approach to the study of race and immigration through racial formation. For example, from a racial formation perspective, Roya’s guidance counselor was not mistaken when she told Roya to check the “white” box. According to the top-down half of racial formation theory, and through the lens of legal and social policy around race and immigration, Iranian Americans are indeed white by law. Yet, at the same time, political constructions of Iran as a deviant, illogical, or criminal state are suffused with non-white racialization observable across each level of American society. In this way, everyday objects like the lynching poster at Nonmacher’s are forms of bottom-up racial knowledge that “rearticulate” Iranianness as racially marked and incompatible with whiteness.17 The interplay between top-down and bottom-up processes, and particularly the points of friction at which they meet, tell us not only about Iranian Americans but more generally about how white racism continually reorganizes itself to exclude those whom the legal category “white” nominally includes.
Nonetheless, when it comes to research on the immigrant second generation, racialization frameworks are secondary to theories of assimilation, which remain the default framework through which the incorporation and well-being of ethnic and racial minorities is assessed.18 Segmented assimilation rests fundamentally on the notion that upward trends in education, income, and wealth lead to political and social incorporation into an American mainstream that is implicitly and sometimes explicitly described as white.19 Rates of intermarriage and spatial integration, which are often used as proxies for political and social incorporation, are then extended into conclusions about the “whitening” of some immigrants or the “honorary white” status of others.20 This literature would predict the easy positioning of Iranian Americans, perhaps more than any other recent immigrant group, into whiteness.
First, since their earliest mass arrival as university students in the 1950s, Iranians have disproportionately entered with training and experience in specialty occupations like engineering and medicine and possess higher rates of educational attainment and income than other legally white Americans. Given this socioeconomic profile, earlier research on Iranian Americans has drawn on theories of assimilation and ethnic incorporation to make sense of middle- and upper-class Iranian American lives. This literature notes a weakening of ethnic language, customs, and identities among the second generation, particularly via intermarriage and spatial integration.21 Research in this stream on youth like American-born Roya—who are, as a cohort, now entering higher education and the workforce en masse—draws from segmented assimilation theory to make sense of data showing that high levels of spatial integration and educational attainment observed in the first generation have held steady thus far for their children.22 Second, by the time of their next wave of mass migration to the United States starting in 1979, Iranian Americans and others from the Middle East were legally classified as white by all levels of government. Third, Iranians bring to the United States a wide range of secular and religious cultural practices, including a deeply held belief among some that Iranians are no less than the world’s original white people.
In short, a highly educated, high-income population of legally white immigrants who arrive already believing in their own racial whiteness should predict a relatively straightforward, easy path into whiteness, according to theories of assimilation. For these reasons, a focus on Iranians within the larger pan-geographic “Middle Eastern” category makes a particularly good test case. But as the poster at Nonmacher’s makes clear, a group’s high socio-economic status, legal whiteness, and belief in its own whiteness do not always make it white enough to escape browning. In fact, for youth like Roya, physical and socioeconomic proximity to hegemonic whiteness in the United States exacerbates social ostracization and exclusion.23 Knowledge about a group’s socioeconomic status, intermarriage rates, or official legal classification, which are foundational pieces of the assimilation puzzle, offer only partial insights into its members’ day-to-day racial experiences.24
By taking up the sociological challenge to connect formal top-down and everyday bottom-up processes of racial group making, this book uncovers the historical and legal presence of Iranians in the United States far earlier than research that precedes it.25 By harnessing a variety of ethnographic, legal, and historical data, I show that Iranians have been pitched across a white/non-white American color line for over a century. I do so at an urgent moment when Iranians and others from the region are the highly visible targets of a 2017 Executive Order banning their immigration and travel to the United States and when Iranian Americans are on the cusp of potential federal reclassification into a “MENA” (Middle Eastern and North African) racial category separate from “white.”26 Whether by choice or by force, these individual and categorical racial crossings have been and continue to be possible because of Iranians’ position at the limits of whiteness.
Overview of the Book
By probing a different ordinary social setting in each chapter, in this book I make the case that Iranian Americans (1) sit, categorically, at the outer limits of whiteness and, more important, (2) possess social experiences that reflect the outer boundaries and limitations of what “official” whiteness can achieve or mobilize. That is, an examination of where Iranians fit into an American racial hierarchy opens new sight lines into what protection, shelter, or cover “legal” whiteness does or does not offer immigrants and their children in the twenty-first century. By recognizing Iranian Americans at the limits of whiteness, we are better able to name and identify what the limits of whiteness actually are.
Rather than take up a strictly academic or legal consideration of racial classification or assume that Iranian American racial identity is wholly constituted as white upon arrival, I take stock of the racial ideologies that ordinary Iranians encounter, engage, and redefine. Using a case-based logic to sample a range of more than eighty young second-generation Iranian Americans, the book travels with them across multiple racialized sites: their home lives; their experiences in white-majority schools and neighborhoods; their securitized, transnational journeys to and from an idealized homeland; and a summer camp by and for the second generation. Iranian American racial identities are anything but stable across these spheres. Tracking the paradox of their shifting white/non-white statuses allows us to better understand the outer limits of who counts as white and under what conditions.
The following chapters chart and analyze this paradox. Chapter 2 offers a chronological account of Iranian racial construction in the United States, dating back to the turn of the twentieth century. Long before their physical presence in America, Iranians had become racial hinges in the margins of racial prerequisite cases through which different populations’ claims for naturalization were predicated on an applicant’s ability to successfully prove his or her whiteness. Middle Easterners such as Syrians and Armenians sometimes successfully argued in court that their similarity to Europeans and dissimilarity from dark, “fire-worshipping,” and inassimilable Iranians was proof of Arab and Armenian whiteness.27 At the same time, South Asian claimants who identified as Parsi offered their ancestral roots in Iran as proof of South Asian whiteness.28 These racial prerequisite cases and their subsequent “clash of civilization” court rulings, although internally contradictory, are important trace evidence of what George Lipsitz calls the “white spatial imaginary.”29 The specter of Iran was a racial hinge between white Europe and non-white Asia: a face, a body, a culture, and a concept that could open or close the door to whiteness as needed. Excavating Iranians out of the margins of these cases reveals how they have been rhetorically positioned both inside and outside white citizenship in the United States for over a century.
The second half of Chapter 2 is anchored by two turning points: (1) the 1978 US federal legal classification of all persons from Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa as categorically white; and (2) mere months later, the Iranian Revolution, which launched an unprecedented migration of Iranians into the United States and similarly unprecedented hours of television coverage about the revolution and ensuing hostage crisis. Across news and popular media in the 1980s and 1990s, Iranians and Iranian Americans were cast as “forever foreigners.”30 Their relatively high levels of income, occupational status, educational attainment, residential integration, and other conventional markers of assimilation offered limited social and racial inoculation from racist portrayal. I then bring the racial account of Iranian America into the twenty-first century in an examination of hate crimes and post-9/11 legal rulings concerning Iranian Americans. Like other Middle Easterners in the United States, Iranian Americans today find themselves caught in racial loopholes in which they are not white enough to escape racially motivated discrimination and hate crimes, but are too white to reliably secure race-based protection and legal redress for the violent and discriminatory acts committed against them.31 To close the chapter, I scale down from federal and state-level legal cases to address racialized anti-Iranian sentiments within local municipalities. In particular, I discuss how Iranian American home-making practices are elliptically marked for obstruction and censure as racially “impure” through anti-Persian architectural housing codes in western Los Angeles.
The chapters that follow draw on data collected in qualitative fieldwork with second-generation Iranian American youth. Chapter 3 explores the racial experiences of youth at home, revealing an “Aryan” racial ideology that many first-generation parents carry over from Iran into new American contexts. Given that most first-generation parents were socialized into an Aryan and anti-Arab national history, “Caucasian” geographic location, and concomitant white racial identity as children in Iran, unexpected family situations arise in diaspora once second-generation children complain of race-based bullying in “hegemonic white” American spaces.32 Parents sometimes encourage their second-generation children to simply return to school and assert that they and all other Iranians are white. In fact, some parents suggest, “We’re whiter than Europeans!” This tactic offers little relief to second-generation youth who assert that they would be ridiculed further should they claim a belief that stands in direct contradiction to the racialized basis of the bullying itself.
Chapter 4 moves from the diasporic home into the American classroom. It analyzes second-generation experiences in elementary, junior, and high schools as well as student life and learning in university spaces. The chapter delves more deeply into the second generation’s pervasive encounters with identity-based harassment at school while also making connections between large-scale, geopolitical events and the bullying of Iranian American children and adolescents. These incidents most often revolve around physical markers of an Iranian American youth’s difference from a locally perceived norm image of whiteness and also sometimes occur in full view of, or with assistance from, white adult authority figures. These cases indicate that the semantics around ethnicity, nationality, and religion are insufficient to explain the totality of bias incidents and discrimination navigated by Iranians and other liminal whites. The chapter ends with the story of a successful student-driven campaign to create a new “non-white” racial category for Iranians and other Southwest Asian and North Africans in the University of California System.
Chapter 5 argues that oft-overlooked in-between places are especially constitutive of racial identity, particularly for people of in-between races. The chapter focuses on the visceral experience of traveling through space—through international airports, in particular—which is required of Iranian American youth to visit their ancestral homelands. Once in Iran, youth testify to the peculiar experience of corporeal scrutiny by their native Iranian counterparts. Common concerns about not being “Iranian” enough for one’s parents and extended family in Iran are counterpoised against the lived experiences of being “too Iranian” with customs agents and security personnel. These experiences are highly gendered, with young men and women working to pass as differently raced at varied times and places in their international travels. Upon their return, a collective consciousness about the transformative process of international travel becomes part of Iranian American youth culture, as boys and girls share stories of excitement and disappointment after coming face-to-face with their shifting racialization and inherited nostalgia for the home country. These transnational crossings and direct encounters form the raw material for a specific second-generation consciousness that celebrates Iranian heritage, while also forging nonbiological kin networks across diaspora and with other liminal non-white groups.
Chapter 6 follows this thread by observing youth as they imagine and create a world beyond the limits of whiteness at an Iranian American summer camp. Camp Ayandeh (Future) is a provocative space that reveals novel forms of kinship and celebratory race making put into practice. Campers, counselors, and staff—all second-generation Iranian Americans, including the camp’s founders—embrace their ethno-racial identities through games and activities that celebrate Iranianness and, more specifically, a strategically inclusive Iranian Americanness. At camp, experiences of identity-based alienation in white-majority schools and neighborhoods are validated. Old ghosts of Iranian and white ethnocentrism fade as campers are reassured that it is not only okay but also vital to align with other liminal and highly racialized groups, including Arab Americans. Cultivating these non-white identifications does not involve a rejection of the campers’ immediate families’ cultures, customs, languages, and values, however. It is instead an almost-utopian project, one that advances an antiracist Iranian American political identity, while widening campers’ sense of self and belonging into a new racial family.
Chapter 7 concludes that we cannot sociologically account for these snapshots of Iranian American life—from Roya’s “saving” to the bonds that kids forge at summer camp—without availing ourselves of an analytic that incorporates race. The Limits of Whiteness not only details the paradoxical case of Iranian Americans but also ends by arguing that logics of whiteness do not coherently describe Middle Eastern experiences in a time of military occupation and widespread racist backlash. The contemporary use of “Islamophobia” as a catchall term for discrimination against Iranians and other Middle Easterners in the United States efficiently but erroneously flattens the extent of genuine diversity within these groups and, more important, critically obscures the consistent racial valence of such harassment. Alongside South Asian Americans and other communities of color in the United States, Iranians and populations from the broad Middle East practice a variety of religions, hail from many separate nationalities, and attach importance to a wide range of ethnic identities. Nonetheless, together they are profiled, classed, and treated in everyday life as a “group” or “type” that is different from whites.33 This is, of course, the language of race and always has been.
In this book I reveal how race and racism organize Iranian American lives and show that for liminal racial groups, whiteness is fickle and volatile—and, more often than not, revoked in the mundane and ordinary interactions that make up the everyday politics of race. In contradiction to their official federal classification and the expectations of sociologists that in the second generation identities should melt away, Iranian American youth regularly feel skepticism and dissatisfaction with assimilation as a desirable—or even possible—cultural and psycho-social process and whiteness as a meaningful and reflective category that describes their lives. In this way, second-generation Iranian Americans understand their status across a wide range of localities as more closely resembling that of other liminally racialized non-white groups.34 Whether their preferred racial identity is “brown” or “West Asian” or “Middle Eastern” or “other,” in a world of cowboys and Iranians, Iranian American youth are experts at navigating life at the limits of whiteness.
1. Coombes 2011.
2. Casiano 2011.
4. For more on American cowboys and the Middle East, see Jamarkani 2015; Kollin 2015.
5. I borrow the concept of “rank-and-file” ethnic and racial distinctions from Brubaker, Loveman, and Stamatov 2004. For more on how racial boundaries are drawn, see Lamont 2001.
6. Tehranian 2010, p. 74.
7. Chola, a feminine term used to describe both mixed Mestizo and indigenous American identities and a cultural and aesthetic style, is used in this instance as a colloquial marker of similarity and a term of endearment and belonging.
8. Mills 1997.
9. The white de facto versus white de jure statuses of Middle Eastern Americans is discussed in Tehranian 2010.
10. Whether the scholarship in question has theorized whiteness as hegemonic norm, hierarchy, or system of supremacy and terror, the consequences of an academic and political project centered on whiteness remains uncertain. See S. Ahmed 2004; Garner 2007. For an example of foundational research in whiteness studies, see Jacobson 1998.
11. Roediger 1991; Brodkin 1998; Guglielmo 2003.
12. Notable works include Roth 2012; Willoughby-Herard 2015; Molina 2014; Foley 1999; Twinam 2015.
13. Gans 2016.
14. Eduardo Bonilla-Silva 2006; Feagin 2013; Omi and Winant (1986) 2014. For studies of Middle Eastern Americans that incorporate a racial formation framework, see Love 2017; Zarrugh 2016; Marvasti and McKinney 2004. For an incorporation of Muslim identities into the sociology of race, see Selod and Embrick 2013.
15. Haney López (1996) 2006; Spickard 1992; Delgado and Stefancic 2012.
16. For recent exemplars, see Ocampo 2016; Roth 2012, pp. 176–201; Roth and Kim 2013; Zamora 2016.
17. For the original formulation of their underutilized concept of “racial rearticulation,” see Omi and Winant (1986) 2014, p. 89.
18. Definitive studies of the post-1965 immigrant second generation and its assimilation include Alba and Nee 2003; Kasinitz et al. 2008; and Portes and Rumbaut 2001. On how theories of immigrant assimilation fail to adequately address race and racism, see Bashi Treitler 1998. For an analysis of the racial identification of South Asian Americans and its implications for theory, see Morning 2001.
19. For more on implicit and explicit bias in assimilation theory, see Bashi Treitler 2015; Jung 2009.
20. For an elucidation and critique of “honorary whiteness,” see Kim 2016.
21. Bozorgmehr 1997, 1998; Chaichian 1997; Daha 2011; Ghaffarian 1998; Mobasher 2006, 2012; Mostofi 2003; Sabagh and Bozorgmehr 1986.
22. Portes and Zhou 1993: Bozorgmehr and Douglas 2011.
23. For more on covert racism in majority-white spaces, see Brunsma 2011.
24. An emerging body of research demonstrates an analytic shift from studying Arab American experiences of “ethnicity” to “racialization.” See Cainkar 2009; Howell 2014; Shryock and Lin 2009. For further sociological elaboration of “racialization,” see Lamont, Beljean, and Clair 2014.
25. On connecting the top down and with the bottom up in the sociology of race, see Brubaker, Loveman, and Stamatov 2004; Omi and Winant (1986) 2014. For an exception to historical research on Iranians in the US, see Farnia 2011.
26. As of October 2016, the White House has proposed adding the “MENA” category to federal racial definitions used by the Office of Management and Budget. The proposal is currently in a thirty-day public comment period, and if approved, “MENA” could appear as early as 2020 on the US census.
27. Gualtieri 2001, 2009.
28. Gualtieri 2001; Munshi 2015.
29. Lipsitz 2011, p. 29.
30. Tuan 1998.
31. For the most comprehensive, interethnic accounts, see Bakalian and Bozorgmehr 2009; Bozorgmehr, Ong, and Tosh 2016; Jamal and Naber 2008.
32. For an explanation of “hegemonic whiteness” as a synthesis of Feagin and Omi and Winant’s formulations of white power and privilege, see Hughey and Byrd 2013.
33. For more on the War on Terror and the racial profiling of Muslims via “appearance and visual cues,” see Daulatzai 2007; Rana 2007, 2011.
34. Roth 2012; Ocampo 2016; Dhingra 2012; Vasquez 2011; Kibria 2011.