(Lena Wong) The List 4.0

I was fourteen when I first created The List. It was a fun idea at the time, listing all the qualities I looked for in my “perfect” guy, but it’s something that’s stuck with me for a great deal longer than I could have predicted it would. I’m currently working on version 4.0, and getting progressively less sure that I’ll ever find someone who’ll fit the criteria, but that’s beside the point. The truth of the matter is that I’ve never really had a preference for a certain race, so it baffles me when I hear the terms “Asian fetish” or “yellow fever” thrown around. And since I am a product of my parents, I guess my refusal to believe that someone would date me solely on assumptions of my race comes from the way in which I was raised.

I was sitting with a friend of mine and her boyfriend, an interracial couple, in New York City two weekends ago, when they asked me if I had a preference for Asian men. And when I said no, they asked if my parents were bothered by that or, in effect, whether or not my parents wanted me to end up marrying someone also of Chinese descent. And the answer to that question was surprising to them because it was also, “no.”

Of course, I’d never really had that conversation with my parents. My parents tend to use humor to skirt around the topic of me dating, well, anyone. My dad calls himself an “equal-opportunity hater” and claims that it doesn’t matter who I bring home because he won’t like them. I’m daddy’s little girl in that aspect, and he also says that I’ll be single until the day that I get married. My mom is on the opposite end of the spectrum. While I wouldn’t call her an equal-opportunity lover because, well, that sounds kind of sketchy, she’s usually the one who gets along with all of the friends I introduce her to – boyfriends or otherwise. I asked her last week about whether or not she, in her heart of hearts, wanted me to marry an Asian and she replied: “Lena, I really don’t care what race he is…his family just needs to be willing to pay for the wedding.” She was joking (or not?) but what it really all boils down to is that I’ve never had pressure from my family to date someone of a certain race and, therefore, I’ve never really wanted to narrow my focus.

In the days since The List 1.0, I’ve dated both men of Asian and Caucasian descents and doing so has raised a few issues in my mind. One is the topic of fetishism. The first time I’d ever heard of men with Asian fetishes was during my first year of high school during an Asian American youth leadership meeting that went over stereotypes of Asian American women and men. Students older than myself started introducing labels like “Dragon lady” to me and noting that Caucasian men tended to like assertive Asian women – under the premise that that confidence would translate well in the bedroom. The notion was odd; I’d grown up in culture denial – always trying to fit in with my mostly-caucasian peers and hearing that some of the boys at my school liked my personality, but wouldn’t date me because of my race. Knowing that there were Caucasian men who actively looked for Asian women was both disconcerting and intriguing at the same time. It made me wonder if there was a stereotype, perhaps one that I barely knew given my age and relative innocent, that I’d be measured upon as I grew older. But I never really faced it head-on until I was in my late-teens. As I grew older, I started to happen upon men who openly admitted that they preferred Asian women and if I asked why, most couldn’t give clear answers. Although, when I did join an online dating community once for experimentation purposes, I did receive a message that stated something along the lines of “I love Asian women. They are so good in bed, but even better out of bed.” Yet, at the same time, I think that it’s unfair to pin the term “Asian fetish” or “Yellow fever” only on men who are not of Asian descent. How is it that different when an Asian man says that he exclusively seeks out Asian women? Having a preference is one thing, but narrowing in on one race alone is indicative of a close-mindedness that’s problematic no matter what color the person’s skin is.

The other topic that comes to mind after reflecting on my previous relationships is the idea of comfort and recognition. Dating Asian American men was simply easier because there were aspects of my culture that came naturally. One of my more serious relationships was with someone who was also Chinese and with that came the comfort of being able to talk about our Chinese horoscope symbols, myths that had shrouded our youth (like finishing all of our rice at dinner time for fear of having a spouse with a pimple-covered face if we didn’t), and an understanding of the differences between mandarin and Cantonese. My other long-term relationship was with a Caucasian classmate of mine in college and while he was very liberal in mindset, there were aspects of our relationship that could have been easier had we had more similar cultural backgrounds. I found myself annoyed at his disdain for Chinese food (even though I don’t have a particular liking for it, either) and his failure to comprehend some of the traditions that I’d inherited from my parents. Those were my two most recent and longest relationships, and I’ve come out of them without a higher preference for one race or another. I know now that I appreciate open-mindedness. It’s more important to me that someone be willing to learn to understand aspects of my culture, than to be part of it themselves. And, of course, that brand of open-mindedness is something that I’d value for parts of personality beyond my ethnic background – it extends to my taste in things like music and food, my ideals, and my passions as well.

The truth of the matter is that I’m very lucky that I was raised by parents with open minds and, because of that, I feel that going through life with a narrow focus would not do my upbringing justice. I have Asian American friends who grew up with tremendous pressure to choose certain careers and certain mates and, because of that, constantly feel as though straying from those set paths would be a disappointment to their families. Some of my girl friends have said that they view their youth as a time to experiment with dating other races, but know that they will eventually find an Asian man in an effort to satisfy their parents. And though version 4.0 of The List is still underway and there are plenty of versions left before I figure out what I really want, I take pride in knowing that race isn’t and won’t ever have to be a consideration. Whether or not he can support my growing addiction to shoe shopping, though…now that is something to consider.

(Beau Sia) Okay. Can We Stop Calling it Interracial?

"okay. can we stop calling it interracial?"

once again. do i really? aren't there soldiers being maimed overseas? isn't clean water becoming more difficult for the world's poor? i believe the situation in jena, and all of its implications, is still going on, right? my sister says the neo nazis in germany are becoming better dressed, going to school in order to become teachers, and making it more controversial for her to wear her new balance sneakers (apparently the N has been co-opted). it's funny how she speaks fluent german, but because it isn't fluent enough for the germans (what is the word for the thing that is only in germany?), the people she is speaking with will often defer in german to her jewish boyfriend, who an say three phrases, i believe.

in thai park, in berlin, every sunday, the thai people of berlin come and sell homemade foods, drinks, and hang out with their families and do a bit of gambling. i went once. in the distance, there's a group of 10-15 older gentleman of anglo (i really don't know what word i should be using here. can we please get a standard. it can't be caucasian. have you been to caucasus? i haven't. white? that really seems limiting and too empowering. can someone with real brains please inform me? fact checker?) descent, just f------ drooling over the asian women, and some of the asian men, as well.

was i grossed out? yes. it's gross. it used to be extremely angering. especially considering the history of war. now, it's kind of really pathetic. i would feel the same gross if i were in thailand, and at german park, a group of thai men were just losing it in their pants, waiting for a strudel. but who am i to judge the neurosis of others? who cares how emotionally stunted these people are? or how ineffective they are at interacting with others on a real level? who cares what the games of power are that are being played? that ain't my life. i'm not those women/men. i'm not the dudes in the chair. we all compensate in one way or another, we all want different things. am i supposed to be the judge of what love is acceptable? or what love is? not for anyone else. How exhausting. plus, where do i draw the line?

maybe she needs citizenship. maybe she needs euros to feed forty people back home. maybe he needs to feel strong. maybe she wants her children to be more accepted by the majority population. maybe he heard something. a rumor, perhaps. maybe she heard something. maybe they're running from their history. maybe the conflicts of nations makes standards out of killers. maybe the images we are most presented with become the realities we chase. maybe the needs of individuals are not found in romance novels, but in business manuals, in internet porn, in finding acceptance and nurturing in ways that webster's doesn't have enough room for in the dictionary.

and maybe none of this applies to the inter-ethnic couples on the street that walk by me everyday, all the time. maybe it's every definition of love i've ever imagined. i've ever wanted. maybe it's all the commitment and sharing, and acceptance that survival couldn't compete with. maybe it's that spark, that thump in the heart, that leaves skin and society in ashes at their feet. maybe it's the holding of hands that can't be defined by any ethnic studies course on the planet. i don't know. i don't know these people. and furthermore, i don't know why those of asian descent are so concerned with inter-ethnic dating in this country, nor why it only applies to couples that are asian and not asian (although, perhaps future dna testing will show that we are all asian. i'm not science.)

in the philippines, my cousin made me promise not to tell anyone that we had spent some of the night hanging out with a filipina woman. in manila, the chinese have parties where they only meet each other. wow. where do we draw the line and why? i don't hear much about asian men and women from other ethnic backgrounds in this great nation, but there is no end to how much i've had to listen about asian women and dudes from different ethnic backgrounds. why is that? do you own that woman walking down the street? is she engaged to you? is that your property because your origins are the same continent? are you angry that you don't look anything like the guy she's dating? Who cares what she likes? and who knows why she likes him? it might have nothing to do with the nose, the ancestry, or the skin.

look. do you want more? or do you want me to get to the truth? you're probably not filled up enough with my thinking. you probably want the woman on the street to see how she's betraying something that she is not responsible for. fine. i've had plenty of white girlfriends. there. i said it. maybe you don't know where i'm from. oklahoma. is that an excuse? no. that's part of the reality. have you watched any movies in the last thirty years? do you know what's on cable? picked up a magazine at the airport? tell me, have you seen the covers? do you know who has been kicking ass and setting up military bases all over the world to ensure freedom and never have to follow the laws of the country they're occupying? can you tell me the ethnic content of every chapter in world history class? public school, mind you. i'm not referring to you, montessori (which reminds me. people love to bring up how they were raised in san francisco, and because they were picked on by all the asian kids that it makes everything i ever write and say wrong. please. stop looking for reasons to discredit things that don't fit the reality you'd like, and start helping me build the scope of this reality we all participate in).

like, when i'm 19, dating brittanie (seriously), i'm saying to myself, "ah, now the white people will accept me." i don't know that. i think she's gorgeous. she has everything i'm taught is gorgeous. we like the same shows. other guys in my town think she's pretty. the list goes on. we all go on. like the child who likes everything as long as it's red, we grow out of our simple concepts of love or we don't. we evolve or we stick with what is comfortably trained into us. no offense, but we are individuals built by the input we have processed, and the choices that has caused us to make. some of us keep looking to f--- what they're taught is a f--- doll, because men are supposed to find f--- dolls they can control to f---. get my drift?

am i supposed to judge someone for being that f--- doll? am i to assume that's what they are? am i supposed to judge someone for looking for that? am i supposed to assume that's why he's with her? no, and no, and no, and no.

as i get older, i continue to refine what i want from relationships of the romantic variety.

i continue to examine the implications of my actions, and the realities and context my relationships with others exist in. i work to make sure that i am not loving from a place of illusion. i make choices to try and break from all the baloney i'm filled with, so i can see people for who they are and not what i want them to be, or what i'm told they are. i take it day-by-day. ten years ago the aspects i deemed signs of true love are laughable to me now. that's what's been happening, because i want to keep on trying, working, failing, mistaking, and growing from this experience, because each person i am sharing this type of intimacy with (whatever that means), is different, no matter how alike some may look, or no matter how similar they're interests are. i have to remember that, and act accordingly. and it's exhausting at times. wonderful, beautiful, etc., yes, but exhausting. sometimes i want to snap, and once i actually did.

so you see, i don't have enough time to be responsible for your love, ideas of love, and decisions with regards to love. i can't dictate to you, no more than i will allow you to dictate to me. i've got so much already in my interaction with others to worry about what you're doing. you love how you want, you see what you want, you do what you want, you determine the depth of love you want to risk it all for. you do you dawg. let me do me. we all need different things, that's why i'm not meant for everyone. i don't want to be with someone just 'cuz i'm supposed to. i want to share my life with someone because, well, i don't want to get into what i'm looking for. my love is not an add or a profile. it's my experience. and no one else's.