Vomit in a Bag (Patrick Lee)

The editorial ends with the author’s college email address and “©2008 Campus Press,” as if nothing extraordinarily inflammatory transpired in the preceding one thousand words. What I wonder about is not how many emails he received in protest to his blatantly abrasive and crude editorial, but how many he received thanking him or agreeing with his sentiments.

The possibility that some individuals will have read the piece and missed the satire, or even worse, wholly agreed with its views, troubles me more than the fact that a college student found a terribly juvenile way to funnel his apparent angst.

Did he write the piece just to get some attention? Or does he really espouse the racist, narrow-minded and alarmingly animalistic ideas in the article? I hesitate even to call it an article, because it is more like the product of pouring one’s vomit into a bag and tying it up with ribbon, in an attempt to cover up the crude contents: it’s vomit-in-bag, in written form.

But more urgent is a question that applies to all forms of communication: to what extent is the author responsible for the aftermath of her or his work? The immediate fallout of the editorial probably only enhanced the author’s notoriety on campus and beyond, and in the twisted dictionary of American culture, notoriety is just as good as fame.

Thus, my main concern is this: is American society — or on a smaller scale, the college campus — an environment that actively breeds such sentiments as expressed in the editorial? That’s a question that will require a thorough analysis of the forces shaping our popular culture, and it is an issue that we must all consider, regardless of race.

The one positive aspect of the means the author chose to communicate is that it left space for dialogue. The fact that everything has transpired in the realm of words, and has not significantly crossed over into the realm of action, allows for response and reaction. What I gained from reflecting on the editorial is a realization that the inequality of the real world can infiltrate everything, even the idealized “University bubble” I currently live in. The CU Editorial proves that, even within college campuses (where admissions offices purposefully recruit diverse classes), entrenched stereotypes can make their way in and slap me in the face.

My reaction will not be to slap back, but to pity those who are nearsighted by the prejudices of the past.

Reacting to Racism (Lisa Leong)

Max Karson of Colorado University has given up on racial tolerance. Karson wrote a controversial column for the campus paper titled “If it’s war the Asians want…It’s war they’ll get,” in which he outlines an attack on the souls of Asian people. The self-called “No more ‘Mr. Pretend-I’m-not-Racist,’” says that “tolerance” and “cultural sensitivity” are over (his scare quotes, not mine). Karson declares a race war: “They hate us all… It’s time we started hating them back.”

I’ve been trying to stomach this racist hate speech for three weeks, during which my reaction has become more complex.

“I’m offended!” was my instinctual reaction. When I read Karson’s misguided satire about identifying Asians by asking us to do calculus in our heads, training us to read facial expressions, and punishing us for not speaking English, my thought process was “racist, racist, and more racist.” Here are the old anti-Asian stereotypes — that we are all math nerds, that we are inscrutable, that none of us can speak English, et cetera. By the way, if an Asian person can do math and has less than perfect English, that’s not a reason to attack.

Not only does Karson generalize all Asians, but his gross generalization is the basis for his violent hatred of Asians and need to “attack their souls.” Karson’s plan of attack has the ring of Nazi rhetoric. He invites his volunteers to “hunt” down Asians, round them up with nets, and throw them into a “reformation” program that tortures them until the “Asian spirit is broken.”

Karson claims that his exaggerated column is a piece of satire because he wants to say, “Hey, it’s a joke.” But the only person who would find this funny is a white supremacist. Maybe that’s close to who Karson is, considering he was arrested for making threatening comments about being “angry enough to kill people” during a class discussion of Virginia Tech shooter Cho Seung Hui. It seems that Karson takes his own satire quite literally.

Feeling offended is a combination of disgust and outrage. I am disgusted that such an ignorant piece of journalism went to print. I am outraged by the “apology” delivered by the editors of the CU Campus Press. Their apology is half-hearted: “We apologize for any ambiguity of the satire that may have been misconstrued.” I wish the editors would have just taken a bite of humble pie and said, “We made a mistake.” There’s a difference between saying “Sorry to anyone who might have been offended” and “Sorry for being offensive.” The first is phony, the second is genuine. Campus Press offered a fake apology, the same way Karson’s column is fake satire. To read a real apology, see the public statement from G.P. “Bud” Peterson, Chancellor of CU.

Another side of my reaction was a lack of surprise. I’m not surprised that someone declared “War on Asians” because I’m no longer surprised that racism exists. In 2006, there was a similarly anti-Asian “satire” in my own school’s paper The Daily Bruin. The article “A Modest Proposal for an Immodest Proposition” was also controversial and inspired complaint letters. Again at CU’s Campus Press, Lauren E. Geary wrote a racist column against Hispanics called “No Hablo Ingles.” All these racist articles represent more than a recent trend of on-campus racism; they are the present form of a history of racism in America.

My final reaction is resolve, that feeling of “I’m not gonna give up.” There’s racism and ignorance in the world of journalism, but I’ll take that as a reason to keep writing. Karson publicized what a lot of people think about Asian people, but most people know better to keep it to themselves and not act on their resentment toward Asians. We need to keep fighting the good fight, not a war against Asians or whites or any group, but a struggle to end ignorance so there will be less people who think the way Karson does.

Every act of oppression is met with a resistance movement. Students at CU rallied against the Campus Press’ infamous hate speech columns by Karson and Geary. The Asian American Journalists Association and numerous Asian American bloggers helped mobilize the outcry against Karson’s column. Protests can bring change: Karson has been suspended from Campus Press.

Who’s laughing now?

(Lisa Leong) Assimilated Beauty

“That’s colonialism all over your face!”

The quote is from one of favorite Asian American Studies professors on eyelid surgery, nose bridge implants, and any other kind of cosmetic surgery that transforms Asians physical features into more Caucasian ones. She meant that there is one standard of beauty—the Western one—that gets imprinted on our faces, our bodies, and our senses of self.

It’s easy to see that the Western ideal of blond-haired, blue-eyed, All-American (or Ayran, if you’re more sinister) beauty is the dominant standard. Look no further than the all-present world of popular media. Advertisements, TV, and movies glorify beautiful faces, but these beautiful faces don’t look anything like me—or you, probably. Every billboard says, “This is Beauty, and you are not quite it. Envy my bag, my hair, my look and my, uh, eyelids.”

Racialized plastic surgery is a popular topic on talk shows like Tyra and Montel. They raise the question: does eyelid surgery erase or enhance race? The audience nods along in agreement that eyelid surgery is a way for Asians to conform to white prettiness. The plastic surgeon and his patients say that they are just enhancing Asian looks. I may not have big, round eyes, but I can see perfectly well what’s going on here.

These girls feel really bad about themselves. Liz and Keyounga (guests on Tyra and Montel) both say they were “the only Asian girl at school” and remember being called “chink.” They have memories of face-to-face racism. I can sympathize with that. Eyelid surgery is not simply a matter of wannabe white, it’s also about trying to remedy their experiences of racism.

The crease, that coveted fold, is such a small thing, but it has come to mean so much. This is because the eye is the quintessential sign of Asian difference. The “Asian” eye is the focus point of racial taunting, like “slant-eyed” you-know-whats and “ching chong” jokes with the accompanying hand gesture. Going into surgery, Keyounga says, “Maybe I won’t get called chink anymore.”

Plastic surgery offers a way to hide those physical features that have been denigrated. Getting new eyelids or a new nose is a form of racial covering. The term is Kenji Yoshino’s, who explains that to cover is to tone down a disfavored identity to fit into the mainstream. And covering is something everyone does because behaving mainstream is a social necessity. (I’m not a plagiarizer, so you can read this on page ix of his book Covering).

So, in effect all this westernizing plastic surgery is a form of assimilation. You can swim in the mainstream instead of upstream by transforming your appearance. The slanted monolid eye is the marker of Asian difference, so changing it brings you closer to sameness. Does it really?

Liz and Keyounga are aware that plastic surgery doesn’t make them look white. “I’m still Asian,” says Liz, but she doesn’t seem too happy about it. Eyelid surgery patients are probably not trying to pass as white, but they are at least trying to appear part white. They come out of surgery Eurasian, with a few European features like a “tall” nose or slighter bigger eyes added to their generally Asian faces. It’s a double-bind of wanting to be Asian, but not too Asian. In other words, wanting to be different and the same as “everybody else.”

Getting cosmetic surgery is a personal choice, but even our most personal choices are influenced by dominant culture. Internalizing western notions about what is beautiful (and what is ugly) happens almost subconsciously. Knowing that Western beauty is dominant, has helped me question its standardization. I guess that means I won’t be getting my face “colonized” any time soon.

Lisa Leong is a senior at UCLA majoring in Art History. She also studies French and Asian American Studies. Lisa writes for the online magazine Asia Pacific Arts.

(Patrick Lee) Pop Culture and Asian Beauty

I just walked out of my basic drawing class on Monday nights, and after having spent a few hours working on portraits, I felt I knew fairly well the common aspects of the human face. If you imagine the face as an oval, the eyes are about halfway down from the top; the nose and mouth are spaced evenly in the half below the eyes. The top of the ears usually protrude from the same level as the eyes, and the tips of the mouth are directly below the irises of the eyes. But, as my professor said quite emphatically, “These are just basic guidelines, because everyone differs slightly.”

From the artists’ standpoint, the individual diversity creates for a broader range of nuances that require attention to detail and skill to portray. But from the viewpoint of Asian Americans, plastic surgery seems to be an increasingly popular option for fitting oneself to an ‘ideal’ image.

According to statistics cited by Michelle Man in an article (published in BN Magazine and New American Media), minorities went under the knife 2.3 million times in 2005, 65% more frequently than only a year before. Asian Americans specifically saw a 58% jump, accounting for over 400,000 procedures in 2005.

More interesting is the type of surgeries most popular among Asian Americans: rhinoplasty, eyelid surgery, and breast augmentation. For the United States as a whole, liposuction, breast augmentation, and eyelid surgery are the most common. Although the category “eyelid surgery” does not distinguish between the procedure for making “Asian eyes” bigger and other, more common anti-aging procedures, the sheer increase in plastic surgery’s popularity among Asian Americans raises questions about the cultural norms being perpetuated by the media and advertisements. A quick look through any fashion catalog will yield few, if any, Asian American models posing for photos: the blond hair, blue eyes standard seems inextricably linked to the pop culture image of America.

As a result, whether or not Asian Americans are flocking to the plastic surgeon for typical procedures or for “de-Asianing” procedures should not be the point of focus: what should be the point of discussion are the cultural forces that are contributing to racialized standards of beauty and, inevitably, happiness. Popular culture permeates everyone’s lives everyday in the form of thousands and thousands of advertisements, and although it might seem to be a futile attempt to try and counteract such a potent force, the good news is that there are many points of intervention.

The impetus for action, however, depends on the individuals detrimentally affected by the current thread of American culture: advertising executives are driven by the profit-maximizing motive, and are not soon to take into consideration racial or ethnic issues unless they promise economic gain. As a result, grassroots-level action is the tipping factor that could have the potential for long-term and far-reaching change. Regardless, intervention on an individual level – talking to a friend or peer considering plastic surgery for the wrong reasons – is never to be underestimated, either.

(Cathy Diep) From the Once Naïve 15 Year-Old Who Knew Nothing

When I was in ninth grade, I joined a culture club at my high school because everyone else did. Sometimes I believed the real reason why students join is to be part of a social connection that brought us all together. But, other times, I know that this social connection we are a part of comes down to one common goal: promoting better understanding and closer ties between and among various sub-components within the Asian culture.

Right now, I am a twenty year-old Asian American college student who knows very little of her past.

Have I ever thought about taking Asian-American Studies? Yes. Did I pursue it? Unfortunately, no.

My first exposure to Asian American Studies started my freshman year in high school when my culture club took a field trip the UCLA. We did the whole registration, name tags, and waiting in line.

Finally, we were welcomed by current UCLA students talking to us about admissions, required materials, college life, and financial aid. Later, we went to an Asian American Studies seminar where representatives from the department discussed what the major entailed to and its purpose.

Mind you, I was well taken to the major and began researching more and more about it when I got home from the field trip!

I wanted to learn Chinese, Korean, Japanese, etc. I wanted to travel. I wanted to go to UCLA just for that major!

Then again, I was a naïve 15 year-old who joined a culture club because everyone else did. I did not have a purpose or a goal. Even though I knew little of my country and its past, the thought of it never crossed my mind. I can say without hesitation it was probably a fad I went through. For others, it is possible too. For some, maybe not at all.

Is it important to take Asian-American Studies? As an Asian American, I believe so though we don't necessarily have to pursue a degree in it. If I may recall, an introduction class in Asian-American Studies counts as a part your general education requirements. Something to think about!

If and when I decide to take the course, it has been said to feel uplifting to learn about the difficulties Asian Americans have faced and even more touching to learn about the difficulties they still encounter today.

Hopefully, we can walk away with our own sense of identity on what it means to be an Asian-American. Gender, race, sexuality, and culture have been defined, challenged, and thus, redefined.

Although I have not yet taken an Asian American Studies course, I feel it is not too far along the way until I will be taking one in a couple months.

Five years ago, I would have enrolled in this course for the sake of taking it. Now, there is an appreciation and drive for understanding the history and beautiful culture of Asians in the United States. I am not the 15 year-old I once was. Twenty is the new me!

(Lisa Leong) My People's History

Everything I learned about Asian Americans in my K-12 education can be summed up in one sentence: Chinese laborers built one half of the Transcontinental Railroad. I accepted that that was all there was. Here it was, my people’s greatest and sole contribution to the country: getting exploited.

I remember that the Chinese were good workers willing to risk their lives blowing up mountains to make way for train tracks. Some died from the dynamite blasts. They were well-behaved in contrast to the Irish workers who drank and gambled. Because of their diligence, the Chinese finished their half of the railroad before the Irish.

This is a pretty racist version of history to learn in the fourth grade. While the stereotyping of Irish people is obvious, the depiction of the Chinese laborers seems like a compliment. “Positive” stereotypes are deceptive like that. Good, diligent, and hard-working is the model minority stereotype about Asian Americans, which shades how elementary school kids learn Asian American history. Everyone who goes through the American education system gets the standardized version of U.S. history—from which Asian Americans are largely absent.

Asian American Studies gives the alternative to the standard curriculum. I re-learned about the Transcontinental Railroad in Asian American History class. I think my mouth fell open when the professor cited Ronald Takaki and told us that the Chinese railroad laborers organized a strike in 1867. They demanded the same wages and hours as the Irish laborers. What? I thought they sacrificed their lives setting off dynamite inside mountains so America would be the first to have a transcontinental railroad? Oh, this makes so much more sense.

Recovering this information reversed everything I knew about Asian Americans (my people!) from years of U.S. History—all one sentence of it. They weren’t entirely obedient. They contested their exploitation. The strike wasn’t successful, but they had fought back. I’m addicted to this empowering kind of information. I’ve been taking Asian American Studies for a year, and have had the privilege of getting five hundred thousand more sentences about Asian Americans (rough estimate).

The impact of Asian American Studies can be measured in much more than sentences, though. The Chinese railroad workers’ strike is just one example of how “forgotten” information can change our perceptions. Along with history, Asian American Studies covers literature, art, gender studies, politics, economics, everything we experience. It’s a way of learning about the world and my connection to it. In many ways, I’m learning how to be comfortable in my own skin, and I sense that my classmates feel the same way. There’s a feel-good buzz in Asian American Studies classes.

So when I heard about Harvard’s lack of Asian American Studies, it was kind of a buzzkill. I thought of all the Asian American students at Harvard who don’t get access to a source of empowerment. The students are protesting, rekindling the spirit of the 1980s movement, and asking the university to expand its scope of education. As the classic college institution, Harvard gets the newspaper headline, but Asian American Studies needs to grow everywhere. Half of all Asian American Studies undergraduate programs are in California and there are only two graduate degree programs (San Francisco State University and UCLA). Beyond the university system, I think that Asian American Studies should be more integrated with K-12 education.

(Katherine Fan) Asian Americans Are Brainiacs

“Psst,” I slipped Suzanne a note in class. “Give me three Asian American stereotypes, off the top of your head.” She thought for a moment and wrote:

• Math capabilities/very smart
• Timid/softspoken
• Sexually submissive

Her three examples touch upon some of the biggest stereotypes Asian Americans face. Is it true that many students of Asian descent test well academically, especially in the maths/science department? Sometimes, but it’s not because we are inherently smarter. Do Asian Americans tend to “fly under the radar” on various issues? Not necessarily. Are Asian Americans sexually submissive? Probably not any more collectively so than any other race – but that’s how we are portrayed in mainstream media.

Some Asian Americans embrace the many positive stereotypes, perhaps believing that being recognized is better than being ignored. “I never got much teasing in school for being Asian,” a young professional said, “I guess because I am more outgoing than most kids and assimilated really easily. I don’t really think Asian Americans have been persecuted much in America, at least not as much as other minorities. Negative stereotypes are a small price to pay.”

When the topic of Asian American stereotypes came up in a class on Vietnamese American history last week, my [predominantly Asian] classmates had a lot to say. “Once when a girl called me an Oriental, I told her I found that really offensive because it made me sound like an object, not a person,” one girl explained.

“I don’t necessarily see the model minority stereotype as a bad thing,” another girl said, “because I think it’s good that Americans see us as smart or determined.”

Their differing responses are a perfect example of why stereotypes cannot fully categorize the diverse differences within any community. If a group of people who share an ethnic identity cannot agree on how they want to be portrayed, then how can one stereotype possibly encompass all of their differences?

The phrase “model minority” was coined around the time of the Immigration Act of 1965. The concept was used to describe Asian Americans in direct comparison to other minorities, citing the perceived “Asian” qualities of upholding community, economic success and academic achievement. But the term isn’t really a tribute to Asian American success; instead, the stereotype dealt a blow to all minorities, Asians included. Being the “model minority” implies a certain unrealistic standard for Asian Americans to live up to. “By misrepresenting Asian American success as proof that America provides equal opportunities for those who conform and work hard, [the model minority myth] excuses American society from careful scrutiny on issues of race in general, and on the persistence of racism against Asian Americans in particular,” says ModelMinority.com, a site “for Asian American empowerment.”

Speaking out is an effective way to counter stereotypes at a personal level. Most people who sincerely believe in stereotypes do so out of ignorance, not malice. “The girl who called me an Oriental said she didn’t know many Asians, and she was glad I explained the difference because she didn’t mean to offend me,” my classmate said.

(Patrick Lee) Pigeonholed by Race

Two nights ago, I was studying in a friend’s dorm room to get away from the raucous party raging in my common room (a UFC fight was on pay-per-view, and one of my suitemates had gathered a group of friends for an all-night viewing). As I was trudging through Don Quixote, another Korean-American student living in the same entryway wandered in and, off-handedly, remarked “Gosh, you’re so Asian.”

Coming from someone of a similar ethnic and cultural background, I didn’t know what to think or how to respond: immediately forgetting about Don Quixote’s adventures as an errant knight, I tried to understand what he could have meant by such a statement: by seeming to fit the Asian American stereotype of studying all-day long and being bookish, was I less legitimate as a person?

I might have been overreacting, but I think part of my instinct to think these thoughts stemmed from my context: at a university where the student body is extremely diverse – not just in terms of race and ethnicity, but in terms of interests, passions, and talents – I had assumed being ‘typecast’ and judged as one particular stereotype or another would be rare. The fact that another Asian American had judged me on the basis of a shallow and culturally insensitive notion didn’t so much as shock me as confuse me: are such stereotypes so ingrained into our culture that even the people they pigeonhole buy into them?

In other words, I certainly don’t view myself as a token Asian American – whatever that means. Naturally, I would assume that others don’t view me in a stereotypical light, either, but whether his remark was casual or completely serious, the fact that he said it at all makes me wonder what cultural norms we abide by in society. If we’re of a minority ethnic background, do we become more “American” if we buy into stereotypes and pass them off as offhand remarks and jokes? Or should we be actively striving to dismantle them and make it the norm not to judge someone based on superficial expectations? Or, maybe I’m overanalyzing this all and it’s not worth considering, especially given the broad diversity of the United States and its reputation as a diverse cultural haven.

Regardless, the question of identity still remains: it is much easier to accept a standard identity and try and fit the role, but that defeats the purpose of individual existence. The purpose of life’s challenges and obstacles is to help individuals find their identities amidst the context of others – whether in a college setting, at work, or even in one’s family – and develop that notion of self into something one is comfortable with and can call one’s own. If we let casual remarks that buy into stereotypes occur without taking note and starting a dialogue, we risk falling into the trap of buying into them ourselves.

My reaction and the chain of thought it spurred might be overkill, but it’s much better than the alternative of swallowing it without thought or contemplation.

(Beau Sia) Neo vs. Traditional Communication

"technologica"

is how we choose to interface a problem? i guess. shortage of coherent essays, eh? people too afraid to take a random shot in the dark at a bar? thailand has more dirt and bugs than it does on the telly? the world, with all its various fences and long range signals changing things more than just in the marketplace? how deep is the shift of exponential technological advancement? probably fairly deep, i suppose. non-confrontational, are we?

of course, unless we're anonymous. where you can't see our faces or our flags. where all recourse takes place on a plane none have ever touched with their mortal hands. and all the fear we feel in real life finds itself in our comments about everything. our absolute opinions about the people we've never met. our understanding of the work we don't acknowledge our own limitations of understanding.

so ready to take action when the sword and the gun is weightless. prepared to kill those we'll never have to explain, 'why?' to. it's understood, afterall. goals so easy when failure and success are in the hands of a rendered image of oneself. the impact of the game only deals in points and checkpoints, so why address the causality of such actions in the tangible universe? besides, who has time to share one's motives for anger. for running over people. just feel it and do it in a world where whim is celebrated.

how can we celebrate ourselves when standards and cause for celebration have been elevated to fantasy? what good are we, if the edited frame is perfect and flawless? what is our best self in the presence of finely crafted ideas presented by teams of well-paid sellers of people? why would we be who we really are, if there isn't airtime for it? if there are no ads purchased because of it? if ratings don't endorse it? if it's not water cooler worthy, as they say.

what can you say without looking like a complete fool? why allow yourself to be seen as a complete fool? why be rejected beyond one's control? why share the guts of it, and then be laughed at? do you know how painful that is? with all the things that could be said about you on the internet? all the blogs and candid photos that could ruin your ideas of yourself. all the people in the world who would only have a moment to catch what's most embarrassing about you, dismiss you, and leave you alone, wondering why you venture out at all?

does it really have to be about language? can't it be about emoticons? emoticons don't recognize your accent. they don't require understanding sarcasm. they help prevent you from having to call on the phone to express the proper tone of the sentiment. and words? why not a format that removes the need for nuance? why not a format that encourages brevity? why not a way that everything can be point a to point b, without any obstacle or chance of misinterpretation in-between? why not a shorthand that takes race out of cultural framing? that becomes its own language in the world, with numbers and clipped letters. the beats would be proud.

what incentive is there to face that which would make our lives uncomfortable? aren't we supposed to look for ease around every corner? isn't it most beneficial to try and make everything in our world effortless? isn't effort considered negative? isn't it in our best interests to ensure that everything we do has the least possible chance of a negative outcome, such as judgement, rejection, and interpretation?

so is it the gadgets? is it time to blame the gadgets? the plots of gadgets and gadget makers? shall we send them a very angry letter about the ruining of our youth? about the collapse of society? about removing the human element from our inherently human selves? robots? are we going to be killed by robots? the they prophesied in film and tv? under who's direction? ah yes, beyond our control.

well, as an avid social networking site guy (not in the random hook-ups way. i am old, afterall. tee hee.), who has many a toy requiring precious electricity, i have this to say:

a hammer can build a house, or it can smash someone's eye socket in.

floss can clean one's teeth or be a tripwire for one's enemies.

brushes can paint our heart's desire, or cover up our insecurities.

a tool is under the control of its user (until we get them ones that make our minds do what they say (unless we already have them, but don't fully understand the idea of cookies and embedded quantum baloney.)).

the root of the matter is not the iphone. it is the culture which elevates a product to the status of fulfilling one's life. it is parents forced away from children in order to make money to buy the things that fulfill one's life. it is the gradual deterioration of our ability to confront the reality of our situation. it is the fear of pain even if ease is equally useless to us. it is time, and the pressure to fill time with only the best imported cheeses, sports highlights, drunkest hour of the drunkest evening, hottest hotties that are obviously hot 'cuz we've seen a magazine, and the newest new with new stickers on it. otherwise, we are wasting time, aren't we? do you need an emoticon after that statement? if you took speed-reading, you may have missed some of what was set-up in the context of the rest of the piece. just saying, is all.

i'll blame the internet when it puts a gun to my head. not being absolute, but why give the internet that much power? is it already alive on its own? is technology the problem? i think it's a lack of reverse engineers when it comes to the human condition. and... scene.

(Lena Wong) Neo vs. Traditional Communication

We are a generation of screens and machines, of text messages and instant messages. We have simultaneously been called the MySpace Generation, the Facebook Generation, and Generation Y2K. As products of the technological revolution and Web 2.0 social networking, we’ve become accustomed to having the world seemingly at our fingertips with no one person more than one click away. However, with convenience comes cost, and for our generation the price of easy communication is seemingly a loss of human connection.

Web 2.0 social networking is a trend that started with the advent of websites like Classmates.com, meant to reunite former classmates, and SixDegrees.com, which was started as an allusion to the notion that no two people have more than six links between them. The trend was reasonably successful, but the introduction of one website, MySpace.com, changed everything. Founded in 2003, MySpace was founded as a “place for friends,” as its website states, a website where people could not only connect with people they knew, but also create new friends. The site gained unbelievable popularity in 2005 and as of April 2007, MySpace had 185 million registered users with a primary age demographic of 14-34 and approximately 4.5 million people at the site at any time. But MySpace soon found itself in fierce competition with Facebook, a social networking website that began as a college-specific friend finder that has since opened up to include businesses, neighborhoods, and high schools. Facebook currently has more than 58 million active users with an 85% market share of American 4-year universities, and with an average of 250,000 new registrations per day. The popularity of these sites is well documented and the widespread use of Facebook and MySpace has been so prolific that a full generation has been named after them – but are they singlehandedly responsible for the loss of human connection?

No. Before MySpace and Facebook, there was AOL Instant Messenger and before that, text messages. With technology on a steady and quick path to make communication easier between people, has come the loss of true and meaningful connections. Nowadays, we don’t have to remember the phone numbers of our closest friends – our phones do that for us. Nor do we need to pay special attention to birthdates – Facebook reminds us whose birthdays lie in the week ahead. Instead of calling our friends to see how they are, we can text them, instant message them, or post a question on their Facebook or MySpace comment wall. Conversations are clipped from hours to minutes and seconds. In a post-Y2K world, a person can virtually go all day without physically speaking to anyone, but communicating with hundreds. We can open up a video conversation and talk to friends across the world, but without the ability to touch them to get their attention, to look at the same surroundings, or to really exist beyond our 12-19 inch screens.

It’s not to say that the advent of social networking isn’t without its high points. With sites like MySpace and Facebook, graduating from school or moving away from home no longer seems quite as daunting because there’s comfort in knowing that there’s a way to keep track of friends – whether that means communicating using the website, or simply looking at recent photographs. The sad part is that these actions – messaging friends using Facebook, looking at photographs to track their recent happenings – are ways in which we keep in contact with people who aren’t miles away. We’ve become reliant on typing our emotions through “Lol”s and “Hahaha”s instead of actually expressing them physically to each other. And we’ve digressed to the point where nuances in speech, body language, and tone can be lost in cyberspace or the 100 character limit of a text message. We have become so reliant on these venues of communication, the easiness of these exchanges, that it doesn’t look like we’ll be changing our ways anytime soon and to the point where we’ve almost forgotten true and natural human connection felt like. Perhaps Paul Haggis spoke of the effects of this best when he wrote, in his 2004 film Crash, “We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.”

(Ishle Park) Western influence on the East, but not so much vice versa?

Um, I beg to differ. You’re right AZN, the proliferation of fast food chains like Popeye’s and Mickey D’s in our home countries across Asia is disturbing and unhealthy, rather like an outbreak of pimples across a troubled face. And yes, in terms of chain stores, name brands, and Hollywood tabloid culture ~ the influence of the West (read U.S.) on young Asian minds is staggering. Beyoncé visiting South Korea a few months ago made front page news for a week – even my parents had a dinnertime discussion about it!

But this is inevitable, and not surprising, right? It’s no secret that Western colonization is still in full effect today, dictating what is fashionable, what is beautiful, what is “cool”, what is “in”. And yes, financially and culturally, we are stuffing a lot of our own processed food & images down third world throats on a daily basis. Our influence is huge, and somewhat disturbing. Aigu. That’s the truth, and the truth sometimes hurts.

But let’s not underestimate the effects of the East on us, especially in terms of philosophy, culture, and health. Let’ be real ~ can you not name at least 2 folks in your circle of friends who hasn’t tried yoga, martial arts, or spent a drunken night in a karaoke room? These are all practices of our distant (or not so distant) ancestors, my friends. And with the rise in health awareness and consciousness about natural living in the west, this trend is seriously going to continue ~ and nowhere is the East’s influence on the West more evident than in your new age store, or the growing section on Spirituality in your local Barnes & Nobles. This is not a bad thing. I think it’s fabulous, actually. Vietnamese monk Thich Naht Hahn’s books on peace, love, and engaged Buddhism are huge sellers in the States, and the Dalai Lama’s visits cause thousands of Americans to line up in hopes of receiving some message of hope or wisdom.

In my own life, both are teachers whose books I read regularly to try to learn more about simpler living, creating peace, and love. In my circle of friends, I have 4 who are certified yoga teachers, and one who is opening a chain of health food stores across the country, financed b a South Asian guru/multi-millionaire (no, not Deepak Chopra, another guy!).

And hip-hop culture historically has “borrowed” or “admired” many aspects of Eastern culture to fit its own swagger, from Wu-Tang’s adaptation of Shaolin mythology to Russell’s wholehearted embrace of yoga. We all influence each other, in good & bad ways. It’s inevitable, and sometimes beautiful. To use another, less positive term, we all appropriate, to some degree; how can we not? We’re human. Let’s jump off our self-righteous high horses for a second (myself included, haha) and to paraphrase the famous words of Mary J, let’s appreciate, not haterate. We all influence each other. Let’s admit it, and get on with living. Peace.

(Lena Wong) Western/Eastern Influence

In my high school economics class, we watched an ABC 20/20 special hosted by anchor John Stossel called “Is America #1?” The hour-long feature explored the economies of India, Hong Kong, and the United States in an effort to discuss the effects of economic freedom on a country’s quality of life and overall wealth. That same year, we also read a book by Dinesh D’Souza entitled “What’s So Great about America,” which rallied patriotically about the merits of America’s politics and economy. I didn’t, by any means, go to high school in a conservative state – quite the opposite in fact. I’m from the Bay Area, California which, for the most part, is as blue as blue can go. Presenting us with these examples were meant to instigate thought; we were supposed to phrase D’Souza’s title as a question, not a statement. And though years have passed since then, it’s still a question I find myself trying to answer today.

In fact, at the very beginning of a course I took this semester called “What on Earth is World Cinema?” one of the questions we were asked was whether or not World Cinema was supposed to mean all film industries outside of Hollywood. As much as we tried to argue that we would look at world cinema objectively, it became very clear that our minds had a hard time wrapping around the idea of including Hollywood within the realm of world cinema. Instead, it seemed almost natural to watch films and compare them directly with Hollywood as though America’s film industry was the ruler by which all cinemas should be measured. Yet, the impact of foreign filmmakers on Hollywood has been vital to the industry’s growth in previous years. Just from Asia alone, America has imported everything from directors to movie plotlines, reworked it in an American context, and sold it as their own. Before there was The Ring, there was the Japanese Ringu, before The Departed there was the Hong Kong blockbuster Infernal Affairs, and before there was John Woo, the director of Mission Impossible III, there was John Woo, the director of A Better Tomorrow – the Hong Kong action movie that started it all. And though The Departed won director Martin Scorsese an Academy Award for Best Director as well as a whole host of other Academy Awards including Best Picture, Best Screenplay-Adapted, and Best Editing, it did so with little attribution to the movie that had come before it. Many fans of the movies who posted their personal reviews on the internet stated that while it was by no means a necessity, featuring cameos by Infernal Affairs’ two stars Tony Leung and Andy Lau in The Departed would have been a nice way to pay homage to The Departed’s predecessor. But, instead, The Departed features an exchange with a Chinese triad in which the actors speak with very poor Cantonese. And in the aftermath of the The Departed’s gigantic box office success, Infernal Affairs has become a distant memory…so much so that it was incorrectly called a “Japanese” film during the Academy Awards. Thankfully, Scorsese corrected that in his speech.

Yet, it is, of course, hard to argue that the influence has purely been from the East to the West. Aside from the fact that the relative success of emerging industries has been complimented for creating blockbusters that could pass for Hollywood films (which in itself is a loaded statement), many American films make it to the top of box office charts in foreign countries. For instance, Korean film Shiri was considered to be a huge success not just because of its big-budget and for jump-starting the new Korean film wave, but because it was able to beat Stephen Spielberg’s Titanic in terms of viewers. Shiri brought in 6.3 million viewers, Titanic only 4.3.

So does all this mean America’s number one? Does it even begin to answer the question of “what’s so great about America”? I’d say no. And I don’t know if that’s an answer that can ever really be answered. Yes our country has incredible influence on the world around us, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re the best – and at the end of the day, who really cares?

(Beau Sia) On Reality Shows

Survivor: China

pre-script: i really hope that comcast doesn't own cbs, but f*ck survivor: china. i don't care how good that show is. i don't care if there are people of asian descent on that show. do you think i'll watch something just because asian people are in it? do you think i'll embrace something just because asian people are in it? oh hells no. why f*ck survivor: china? because that don't make no sense. why not survivor: america? survivor: england? survivor: australia? survivor: canada? and we all know what type of transatlantic slave trade guilt would prevent something like, survivor: africa. get the drift? do you like the font for the show? the dragons? just like in chinatown! where tourists can experience real fake chinese stuff! why isn't survivor: china anything like the china we talk about in school once a year, or the china the media don't like, or the china we see in all the films our directors pay endless homages to in their work? how come the show can't be called the area in china where all this bamboo cutting is taking place? could it be pronunciation meeting marketing? why is china, the leading global threat to our economic superiority, the location of a game show, which i am assuming, is about going into the middle of nowhere and trying to survive? do the producers know how much cement china imports? do they know their sponsors probably have offices in beijing? do they know how many products the crew uses which were made in china? why the whole country? can you not see how problematic the simplicity of it? what is all of this saying?

for me, it is very difficult to make absolute statements about what i'm watching. granted, i began with f*ck survivor: china, but really, what i meant was, "this is more than a game show. ya'll better recognize how subtle it gets programmed... in a program. what?!" i would rather try to deconstruct what i'm watching and figure out what is affecting me positively and what is affecting me negatively. on a personal level. being the elderly gent that i am, i also realize that if there is someone on that screen whose face is asian, that they are forced to represent me. through no fault of their own, mind you. it's just that the variety and frequency of asian faces in television and film is such that chances are, masi oka is the one asian guy most of the u.s. sees in their lives on a weekly basis (and he says stuff! he has feelings and dreams! ). so i also know that with the limited experience most people have with those of asian descent in their lives (please do not email me that some of your best friends are asian. proving me wrong does not make you right.), their ideas of asian people, whether or not they're americans, comes from tv and film. yay for me.

this small presence has plagued me in my life through various characters. a few years ago, i was on stage, and someone yelled at me from far away, "it's william hung!" yay for me.

at this point in my life, i don't care that those of asian descent are on reality tv shows. either way, it doesn't matter to me. because i no longer feel like they represent me, nor need to be held up to such standards. to me it feels like placing the responsibility on someone who has no responsibility. to me, the reality is that all people should have an opportunity to be portrayed in a human and dynamic manner. the moment someone is reduced to a cultural stereotype, a gesture, a catchphrase, or background coloring, one should begin to question the entertainment and the art which would allow such things. why create, or share, if it's only to give one-dimensional ideas that can be dismissed or digested as if human beings were the same as fart jokes. and why, as a viewer, should i give a damn about a show that doesn't allow the fullness of the people i'm rooting for and listening to, to really come out? i don't have time for that. my bones are old.

so let's begin with that. i don't want to focus on this one ethnic idea, although i might have a higher level of sensitivity towards the portrayal of those of asian descent in the media, because of my own experiences. the truth of the matter is that many characters in many programs, are one-dimensional, lacking, and without real depth (maybe we want something simple to place in a compartment). part of the issue, though, is that those of asian descent appear less frequently than those of other ethnic backgrounds.

(note: i consider being from the middle east to be of asian descent. i guess if the war in iraq bleeds into iran, then there actually might be more asian faces in film and tv. positive? well, we'll start with more.)

i'm not saying every movie has to be all asian. i love fantasy as much as the next person. but in san francisco, there should be a much higher percentage of asian american extras. in tila tequila, there should be a higher percentage of asian american candidates...

i retract that. there shouldn't. but i would love for someone, perhaps tila, or anyone, really, just to explain to me why that wasn't the case, given the track record of most, "find true love," reality shows when it comes to ethnic representation being predominantly similar to that of the decider. not that ya'll were wrong for, "breaking new ground," if you want to call it that (tell your PR guy. it's a great way to deflect jerks like me!). i just need it explained. in fact, if you do explain that, could you also explain why tila is always this wild and crazy girl with tattoos, who is bisexual, but no one ever talks about her ethnic background, as if they were all told not to? i mean, unless all of these contestants have vietnamese friends, and bring vietnamese women home to their oil baron mansions and whatnot. please correct me. also, explain the archetypes she was physically most drawn to, in conjunction with previous life choices for her hair color, nasal work, pectoral augmentator, etc.
maybe, if you could, tell me why we hear so much about why she wants to meet these families, but never talks about her family, and so on. this would be great. not that you're wrong, tila. i'm from oklahoma, i know what it can do to us. i once had a perm (as if anyone would ever think i could look like michael hutchence).

oklahoma, you're not bad. you just weren't very understanding of me. if only our movie theatres got more than sixteen candles, goonies, and gung ho.

i should probably end that i dig seeing asian folks carry themselves with dignity and truth in film and tv, and that i am very proud of those who will not allow the perceptions of others (top chef) prevent them from accomplishing the goals of who they want to be, regardless whether or not they are understood.

and finally, could i please have my own reality show? it's me, 16 men, 16 women, and all of them think they're about to meet a man trying to find love, but what they don't know, is that they're about to find out how completely racist they are and why.

(Emma Carew) - On Journalism

Journalism that works, even without a free press

Every year since 1961, the World Association of Newspapers has given awarded a single journalist with the “Golden Pen” award for his or her commitment to freedom of the press.

This year, as well as last, the Golden Pen was given to a journalist who is currently incarcerated because of that commitment to international freedom of the press. Li Changqing, a Chinese journalist, is serving three years in prison for “spreading false and alarmist information.


Li covered the outbreak of dengue fever in the Fuzhou region of China in 2006. The Communist Party Propaganda Department places heavy censorship upon the press in China, so until Li’s reports, the outbreak of the mosquito-borne disease hadn’t been announced to the public.


As a reporter in the States, it’s nearly unfathomable to think of going to jail for informing the public of a health crisis. I recently reported on drug resistant staph infections, an issue that my university had barely begun to address, despite college students and student athletes being two of the highest risk groups. As a result of my story, the University quickly educated the peer health advocates about staph infections and began a public information campaign. I didn’t hear negative feedback from my editors or my community for bringing attention to a social health issue – certainly there was no talk of sending me to jail.


In my journalism classes we watch videos about Judith Miller and hear about how she stood up for journalism by protecting her confidential sources. Yet, we hardly hear about the hundreds of reporters worldwide who are imprisoned each year simply for trying to report the truth and do good journalism.

Last spring, a group of south-east Asian journalists visited Minneapolis and came to our school through the Edward R. Murrow Journalism Program. I got to meet these reporters and editors, who had traveled from places like Hong Kong, Malaysia, China, Singapore, and Taiwan as part of an exchange program, and I quickly realized how very different our ideas of journalism are.

Some of them couldn’t understand why we have so many different media outlets in the States. It seemed strange to them that the government wouldn’t be heavily involved in the creation of media and journalism.

According to a release from WAN, China has the most journalists behind bars worldwide. With the upcoming 2008 Beijing Olympics looming, WAN and Reporters Without Borders have called for athletes, sponsors and supporters to put pressure on China and their oppressive media policies.

The Beijing Olympics marks the first time in my lifetime that the games will be held in a non-democratic country. I’ve read reports of the Chinese government cracking down on homelessness and vagrancy, of increased arrests for “security risks,” and flat out violations of human rights. The Olympic committee said it had hoped that the selection of Beijing as an Olympic site would help to bring about reform in China’s human rights policies.

As journalists, the bottom line for us is the truth. When the truth is repressed and the truth is hidden, the responsibility lies with reporters and editors to seek it out. In China, and other oppressive nations, governments and regimes would like to see journalism fail. I find it refreshing and inspiring to see that journalism does not necessarily fail because of reporters like Li Changqing.

(Emma Carew) How I Came to Accept My Adoption

I recently came across a blog on the New York Times Web site called Relative Choices: Adoption and the American Family. The blog is maintained by over a dozen authors, all with some tie to the adoption community.

Having been adopted as an infant and having just spent 8 weeks in Korea reuniting with my birth family, reading the blog has really hit close to home for me. The entries themselves, which range from topics of dual racial identity to separation and attachment issues, all touch on topics that are very real and very true in my own life, but in addition, I was amazed by the comments and discussions posted by other readers of the blog.

When celebrities like Madonna and Angelina Jolie internationally adopted their children, transnational and interracial adoption became instant buzzwords around the world. Suddenly, the concept of the only family structure I had ever known was being dissected in gossip magazines and people made adoption out to be something of a trend or passing fad.

In reality, international adoption dates back to the Korean War, when white American families (mostly from Minnesota) began taking war orphans into their homes and raising them.

Two years ago, I enrolled in the first known college course about international adoption, called Cultures of Korean Adoption. About half the class was made up of Korean adoptees, and the class was taught by a Korean adoptee who was doing her PhD. work in the area of Korean adoption.

The class was interesting, and acted as a crash course for me in the history of a system that eventually brought me to my family. It also opened my eyes to a much larger debate about the advantages and disadvantages of international and interracial adoption.

Most of the other adoptees in my class had very different experiences growing up than I had. Certainly the writers of the memoirs we read had very different experiences, having grown up a generation or two before me and my adopted friends.

In the 1970s, Korean adoptees seemed to be few and far between. Resources like Korean culture camp, language villages and dance groups didn’t exist for adoptees and their families. Schools didn’t offer counseling groups for adopted students. Agencies didn’t encourage parents to introduce their children to their native cultures.

I grew up in Minnesota, the so-called Korean adoptee capital of the world. An estimated 10-15,000 adoptees currently live in Minnesota. I met my first Korean adopted friend when I was in first grade and went to Korean culture camp first the first time when I was eight. I went to Korean school on Saturday mornings for a year, and performed Korean dance for eight years.

Our dance group, Chonsa, was mostly adoptees, including our teacher. From fifth grade all the way to college, I had adopted friends and an adopted role model. I had a support network who understood that sometimes I felt out of place in my own family, who knew that it felt weird to be the only Asian kid in a class at school.

An interesting thing happened while I’ve been at college. A group of adoptees, myself included, came together last fall and tried to form a student group for Korean adoptees. We paired with the local adult adoptee group to host an artists’ showcase, and invited adoptees from the community to come.

Many local adoptee “elders” came and all of them praised us for banding together on campus. “I wish we had something like this when I was in school,” they said.

Unfortunately, about six weeks later, our little group sort of disbanded. The semester ended and we seemed to go our own separate ways. I believe this is because so many of us grew up here, and that we really didn’t have a need for a formal reason to come together. There’s a sort of loose adoptee network in place just through summer culture camps and language villages, dance groups and Korean classes.

The adoptees who grew up in the generation before us seemed to come together as adults, finding one another for the first time. For us, we grew up with adoption as a much different part of our lives.

I still see my Korean adoptee friends, either in language class or out on the weekends. My adoption is very much a part of my life. I feel the duality of my identity every day, whether it’s a debate in our newsroom about coverage of minorities or something as simple as choosing rice or pasta for dinner.

It’s unlikely that I’ll ever be fluent in Korean, a fact that seems to drive my Korean family a little crazy. I probably will never live in Korea, because it’s a culture I feel so disconnected from. But it’s also unlikely that I’ll ever lose my connection to the adoptee culture, one which I firmly believe exists. It’s a culture of conflict, loss, identity, tragedy and confusion, but it’s mine and I’m okay with owning that.

(Beau Sia) On Adoption

"please adopt me"

i am going to be under the assumption that i was assigned this particular topic because there must be some concern within "the community," about babies from overseas, such as china and korea, being adopted here by parents who are not ethnically asian. i believe i have a t-shirt in my closet saying as much, more succinctly.

here is the united states of america. i imagine, though, that this concern also exists in france, great britain, australia, and so on...

i imagine there isn't the same level of concern for this in brazil, india, the continent of africa, and so forth.

i've received emails from adoptees, good christians all, who have written me, expressing that i am attacking their identity, because they are under the belief that my work is a direct address of their "non-asian," parents, who love them very much, and have given them everything they could ever want as a child: education, shoes, meals everyday.

i've read essays by adoptees about the anger and hurt they've felt because of a circumstance beyond their control has caused those of asian descent to judge them, ostracize them (am i using this word correctly?), and treat them less like one of them, if there is such a thing as a, "one of them."

i've met parents of adoptees who have asked me to help them, because they know they are at a distinct disadvantage when it comes to explaining and fully understanding the issues their child will have to grow up dealing with in this country, by virtue of the way they look.

i've watched photographs of angelina jolie and that one son of hers, whatever his name is (as if it makes a difference to my life now. maybe one day we'll work together on a project...), going into places, leaving places, surrounded by faces that love without touching.

i've been to conferences where it is "really wrong," for this adoption to occur, because of reasons i should've been paying more attention to at 9am, i'm sure, and i've been to conferences where, "we must adopt," because so many children already live without the care and love they require to grow, and why selfishly demand that you must have your, "own child," when to own a child, to say a child is only yours if it carries the same blood within it, are both fundamentally inaccurate.

do i understand why so many children exist without parents to love and care for them? i don't know the judgement that befalls unwed mothers in christian nations. i don't experience the policies of governments giving one gender value over another. i have never been in the midst of a genocide. i am not certain there are similar sex education programs and services provided overseas, nor the time to participate in such things (i hear the days are getting shorter). i won't speculate on the effects of the unseen on the bodies of the first world (we will not speak on stress, or waves, or pills fda approved). i can't go into the horrors and acceptance of rape all over the world (uncles must continue playing their part, women are legally treated as objects, and love has been reduced to the manipulation of an act, afterall). and i'm not sure now is the time to go into all we leave behind and forget to maintain our illusions in life.

i am unable to see the village in which starvation is a factor. i have not lived in the home where moral belief is an inflexible law. i do not have to live my life as a woman, where my purity is constantly in question. that my purity is attached to my biology, and that the judgement of both rests in the hands of man.

and who can forget the fact that we have new toys every year that bore us once they give us problems, or don't give us what we think they will? as if we aren't applying our habits to all aspects of our lives. as if being raised by the community of a screen so that parents can afford vacations doesn't affect a child's ability to raise as child.

as if the problem lies in adopting the child.

i've been in the company of many children raised by their birth parents. adults now, there are enough stories to make me question the idea that one circumstance is better than the other. that we must enforce one situation at all costs. in this case, that of keeping the child with the parents she was born into.

stories of molestation, beatings, verbal abuse, neglect, being trapped in an identity they did not choose, being forced to live as an extension of another's life, being told their possibility, being exploited for their parent's gain, being shut out from the conversation completely always.

there are wars. there are economic crisis. there are governments dictating bodies and culture. there are diseases. there are children without parents.

everyone could be a better parent. everyone could be better about nurturing the life of a child. everyone could learn more about the needs of those they are entrusted with caring for. everyone should provide their children with all that they have to offer, knowing that love and understanding are non-negotiable. everyone needs to know that being entrusted with the life of someone, does not give one the right to own it, but rather to help it to grow into the life it is to become.

i cannot blame adoption for the deeper issues that have made it such a controversial topic in the last ten years, and i will not focus on adoption, when i must make choices that seem irrelevant to adoption, to try and stem the tide of children being born into this world alone.

(Lena Wong) Asian American Role Models

When it Sizzles

1998 was a year of firsts. I attended my first concert that year (Hanson; I was in the midst of my teenybopper fandom) and lived through my first decade of life (though I doubt I really processed what that meant at the time). But, more importantly, it was the first year that I identified with a movie character. She was my first on-screen role model and her name was Mulan.

Like any other little girl, I had quite the active imagination while growing up. My friends and I engaged in make believe games frequently, but we often found ourselves pretending to be princesses – particularly of the Disney kind. Yet, until 1998, I had trouble finding a princess to portray when playing with my friends. My favorite Disney movie was (and is) Beauty and the Beast, but it seemed silly for me to play brown-haired Belle when I so clearly did not look like her. Therefore, in an effort to stay true to the films, I was often cast as Pocahontas or Jasmine – even though I clearly wasn’t Native American or Middle Eastern. They had the jet black hair and darker complexion that I did, though, and in our adolescent minds, it made sense to put me in those roles.

And then Mulan happened. Suddenly, there was a Chinese Disney princess who I could emulate. To top it all off, the film she starred in even provided a glimpse into a historic Chinese tale to which I hadn’t been exposed before. Yet, while all of this sounds like the trivial worries of an elementary school student, much of the same concerns of finding an Asian American role model in the pop-culture landscape of the United States still applies – and it’s been almost a full decade since 1998.

As much as I’d like to go against the popular concerns that tokenism and stereotypes surround almost every Asian American character or actor in the mainstream media, I’m finding it increasingly hard to do so. Yes, there have been great strides made in recent years with television channels targeted towards Asian American audiences and independent films made from Asian American perspectives, but little has been done to change the representations of Asian Americans in media targeted to the general public. As much as I laughed and enjoyed Danny Leiner’s “Harold and Kumar go to White Castle”, I couldn’t help but notice just how much the movie relied on the stereotype of Asian Americans as being studious, lawful, and submissive. Same goes for Shonda Rimes’ hit hospital drama “Grey’s Anatomy” wherein Sandra Oh plays a doctor who exemplifies the stereotype of the Asian American as brilliant, but competitive and manipulative. I recently dressed up as Cho Chang from the Harry Potter series for Halloween and even her story was unfortunate in its own right – Cho is Potter’s love interest that is never fully realized because he falls in love with his best friend’s sister.

It’s not to say that I haven’t been able to find Asian American role models at all, though. After reading his memoir The Rice Room, I got in touch with Ben Fong-Torres, the former editor-in-chief of Rolling Stone who inspired me to pursue the field of journalism in the first place. There have also been a few Asian American authors to whom I’ve looked to for literary guidance; Maxine Hong-Kingston’s writing has been especially empowering.

However, the truth of the matter is that in some ways, I’m still that little girl looking for a princess who I can pretend to be. I’m still searching for a strong Asian American woman whose life trajectory follows what I hope mine will be. True that my role model doesn’t necessarily have to be Asian American or a woman, but it’d sure be nice if she existed.

(Beau Sia) Asian American Role Models

"asian american role models"

i've been hearing so much more about this lately, and it seems like there's good money to be made being one of these. it seems like there are lots of aspects becoming identities, and that these identities are great for advertisers, or those who want themed shows.

when presented with this as a topic, my first response, snarky as usual, is, "do you mean role models for asian americans, or do you mean asian americans who are role models?" from there, i've got some follow-up smart ass, like, "if for asian americans, should we exclude those who might also be role models to recently immigrated asians?" "do the role models have to be ethnically asian if they're to role model for asian americans?" "which asian americans are we talking about here? those of russian heritage? arab heritage? aren't we not inviting the iraqi americans to e.c.a.s.u. again this year, because we feel middle eastern trumps the continent of asia? and of course, who can forget, "how did we get to this place where we live by an inaccurate, problematic, and vague term like 'asian american'?" (of course, i have been guilty of this in the past, and even now in the present. i too am struggling to figure out how i've allowed terminology to lead me astray, and how i can find my way back to the truth. the real. the whole.)

there really have been too many layers in these subjects for 500 plus words, but we've got to start somewhere. And all our collective contributions will eventually help us flesh out a fuller understanding of this all (no, i'm not a communist.).

i recently finished acting in a film (how first world of me!), and in a group interview, a fellow actress, who is white (i've got to figure out something quick instead of this word, before it becomes a cycle that binds me to an illusion! if only we'd spent more time speaking with each other about our ethnic background and not our dreams and perspectives!), said (now here i go into paraphrase mode...), hanging out with me led her to use my work example as a guide and encouraging reality for her work. does that make me an asian american role model? even if she's not asian american ( i did classify her so poorly as white (though there are those of asian descent who appear this color))? should i pick one ethnic group whose lives i can nurture?

let's not think that i have this effect on everyone. my work hasn't reached a majority of the world's population. barely a minority. and of these folks who've been exposed to my work, i receive positive remarks for my impact in their lives from about ten percent of them (this number was arrived at by guessing, while thinking about shows i've performed, and who from those shows have hit me up via social networking sites).

that doesn't sound very model-y to me. that sounds very dude-who-positively-impacts-the-lives- of-some-of-the-folks-he-interacts-with. model, and i'm not an educated man, sounds a lot like guideline, and role sounds a lot like, role. i was just in a thing where i had a role (gosh, i can brag.). it was quite the specific function (thankfully, not of the this-guy-is- foreign variety). if we kinda see these things connected, regardless how they're used to sell the nobility of athletes and celebrities, it sounds like, "hey, if you wanna be a champion caliber pony, here's the outline of what that kinda is and does."

there are other words associated with role model that i often hear like, 'encourages,' 'inspires,' 'teaches,' 'shows,' 'example,' 'exemplify.' there are other labels besides role model which are associated with them words, too. so when we think about a person's effect on our lives, why not use specific, appropriate wording, instead of a blanket term to represent a bevy of verbs? granted, it's much more difficult to have a press kit that states you are, "one who encourages, etc." than one which states, "he is a role model." that just makes keyword sense.

i don't mind spending a few extra seconds responding to someone via email by writing, "i'm glad that my work could have a positive impact on the choices you make," instead of just writing, "it's cool you see me as a role model." why? 'cuz what role am i a model for? even i know that when i'm interviewed, that the interviewer requires a direction for the audience, so i allow them to call me a poet, but even then, i don't believe i am beau sia: poet.

i've had to live so many other labels in my life. now, i'm not saying i'm not a poet (i will add here that only time will tell whether or not the universe considers me a poet after my death).

i'm saying beau sia: poet sounds a lot like lap top: computer. confused? basically, i don't want to be bound in my possibility by a title that immediately categorizes what my life can be about forever. and beyond that, i've met enough people who are poets (on top of everything else they are), and they've got their own way. there are many things i do creatively that work for me, but just don't work for other poets, and vice versa. who are any of us to impose, "be like poet x in you want to be a poet." it's not the single function type of thing a champion caliber pony is. and let's go full circle for a second and recognize that if american citizens whose ethnic background is of asian descent want to be seen as individuals, as well as part of a vast cultural landscape, if you will, aren't we going to run into some long time trouble if we start assigning folks the mantle of asian american role model?

wouldn't that be of the same vein as saying, "this is a model minority," "this is a good asian," "this is your place?" yeah, it's that deep. and if we're going to be individuals who are built on the enormous wealth of experiences and input we receive, why not be aware of and address that as best we can, instead of funneling all of our particular energies into one source. i've spent most of my life digging bruce lee to the fullest, but i will never be him, and trying too hard to follow him would only cheat my potential. okay. i'll give you an example.

rather than me being like, "saul williams is a role model to me," why not tack on a couple of sentences and say, "kal penn has had roles which show me that asian americans (here we go again, for brevity) can be funny, without being at their own expense, hines ward inspires me to seek the self on my own terms, haruki murakami gives me hope that art does not need to rely on corporate interests to be valid, and beau sia..." right. i'm not going to decide what parts of your life i might inform or help you positively build on. I will never be you. them, anyone?

ps- we should really stop looking to level of exposure as a gauge for who is a valid voice in our lives on the various issues we must confront. just because mom doesn't sell as many magazines as paris hilton, doesn't mean her dating advice isn't more accurate to who we are. 98 percent of the time, it is. well, for me, anyway.