ARISE
GENERASIAN
FALL 2017
EXECUTIVE STAFF Editor-in-Chief Shirley Foo Editor-at-Large Rebecca Kao Deputy Editor-at-Large Jessie Yeung Secretary Casey Lee Treasurer Ryan Yi PR/Social Media Chair Cheryl Man Art Editor Tatiana Hollander-Ho Blog Editor Alison Cheng Deputy Blog Editor Grace Cheng Media Editors Jenny Du Megan Liao Deputy Media Editor Emily Arakawa Layout Editor Megan Liao
CONTRIBUTORS Writers Kate Cabiago Chelsea Cheng Natalie Chinn Alexandra Fong Lisa Kindyeyeva Morgan Kuin Dylan Lee Tom Lynch Jane Phan Deanna Tran Michelle Zhang Lauren Zou Artists Tatiana Hollander-Ho Evonne Lao Shashank Rao Zoya To Julie Wu Margaret Yannopoulos Stephanie Yin Layout Emily Arakawa Alison Cheng Megan Liao Morgan Kuin Alexandra Fong Stephanie Yin 2 Credits
LETTER
FROM THE EDITORS
Dear Readers, It has been both our honor and immense pleasure to work with such talented, passionate writers on this semester’s issue of Generasian Magazine. This issue’s theme is centered around a very particular idea: arise. One definition of arise is to stand up, to be active, to engage with. We encourage our members and readers alike to arise in their own ways, whether politically, personally, collectively, or otherwise. On whose behalf do we arise, what compels us to action, and which mantles must we carry forward? We also engage a second definition of “arise” in this issue, in terms of emergence and the process of becoming. Asian American intellectual discourse is one that evolves constantly—giving rise to new ideas, complex identities, and radically reconsidered ways of knowing. We welcome you to join us on this at once individual and collective journey of ongoing inquiry—probing everything from arts activism to portraits of transnational families, and so much more. Asian America is emerging, and we are surely arising. Thank you for all your support, and we hope you enjoy the issue! Rebecca Kao & Jessie Yeung
Disclaimer: This publication is published by students at New York University and NYU is not responsible for its contents.
CONTENTS art 1 cover Tatiana Hollander-Ho from the editors 2 letter and staff/credits
3 contents
20
south korea’s plus size models
22
untitled 1/untitled 2
24
media representation:
make their debut Dylan Lee
Evonne Lao
why does it matter? Chelsea Cheng
PO L I T IC S
dreamers 4 (forgotten) Michelle Zhang american voices: 7 asian a new age of creative advocacy Jane Phan
10 disaggregation and (in)visibility in the numbers Lauren Zou
C ULT UR E A ND EN TERTAIN MEN T
12 Lisa Kindyeyeva
k-pop goes the distance
ado about food 14 much Deanna Tran
17 Stephanie Yin
make a wish
on the rise: 18 indie asian americans take the stage
FAMILY AN D CO MMUN IT Y
26
a tough pill to swallow:
28
dear evan han:
31
reinventing tradition
32
filipino roots,
35
2 of spades
36
tracing crossovers:
asian american drug abuse Tom Lynch
mental health in asia Alexandra Fong
Shashank Rao
old and new Kate Cabiago
Zoya To
migration and multicultural asians
Natalie Chinn
38
blog highlight
Morgan Kuin
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READ THIS ISSUE ONLINE: issu.com/generasian Table of Contents 3
(FORGOTTEN)
DREAMERS By: Michelle Zhang It’s September 5th, 2017 and across America, protesters are chanting. Handcuffs are put on a girl in Midtown wearing a plain white shirt. It says ‘Mi Labor, Mi Familia,’ and she stares at the camera with silent dignity. Police officers surround her and other protesters, all holding signs that speak of dreams. That day, Attorney General Jeff Sessions had made the announcement that spurred these nationwide protests. He announced 4 Politics
that the DACA program would be revoked within six months, stating that “The compassionate thing is to end [DACA’s] lawlessness.”1 Sessions claims that it brings in “this group of illegal aliens,” it takes jobs from American workers, it steals spots from American students, it 1 Beckwith, Ryan. “DACA: Transcript of Jeff Sessions’ Remarks on Ending DACA.” Time, Time, 5 Sept. 2017.
Girl holds sign protesting the removal of DACA
creates a lawless society where anybody can come to a land that espouses the most selective version of freedom. It is a weapon used to “put our nation at risk of crime, violence, and even terrorism.”2 It, it, it. Sessions forgets— or never realized—the actual fac-
“In reality, the institution gave up little and the Dreamers gave up everything.” es that makes up the program. The Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, colloquially known as DACA, was an executive decision by President Obama allowing undocumented American children to remain in the country. It was spun as an act of great benevolence 2
Beckwith
by the American government when in reality, the institution gave up little and Dreamers (the recipients) gave up everything. The premise was basic: undocumented immigrants brought into America at a young age were given legal residential status that allowed them to work and study in the United States, given that they had no criminal record, were currently in school, or had military service.3 In exchange for proof of their nationality, school records, and other receipts, the government would give Dreamers contingent work permits that needed to be renewed every two years. This has resounding implications. Undocumented children give up their vulnerable immigration status to the federal institution designed to deport them, in the hopes of “legal life.” However, the Dreamers’ sacrifice was forgotten because of Trump’s defining narrative of nationalism on all fronts. The racist rhetoric he espoused on the campaign trail targeted the Latino population because in the minds of his supporters, “the undocumented are Hispanic, mostly Mexican.”4 Ending DACA is Trump’s triumphant first step into fulfilling his promises of ‘making America great again.’ However, the general public is largely unaware that the rate of undocumented Mexicans coming into the U.S. has actually been in decline compared to other origin regions. The Asian undocumented population has more than tripled within 15 years, and in 2015, there was an estimate that 1.7 million Asian Americans are undocumented.5 Therefore, it’s surprising that a larger number of immigrants from Mexico and Central America applied for DACA while only 20% of 3 Shoichet, Catherine E., and Tal Kopan. “DACA, Dreamers Explained.” CNN, Cable News Network, 11 Oct. 2017. 4 Vivian Yee, Kenan Davis And Jugal K. Patel. “Here’s the Reality About Illegal Immigrants in the United States.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 6 Mar. 2017. 5 Ramakrishnan, Karthik, and Sono Shah. “One out of Every 7 Asian Immigrants Is Undocumented.” Data Bits, AAPI, 11 Sept. 2017. READ OUR BLOG
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Growth in Undocumented By Region of Origin (2000-2015) AAPI DATA
eligible Asian immigrants applied.6 There are key reasons for the disparity of applicant numbers, and why the visibility of Asian-American undocumented immigrants is still incredibly dim compared to the rest of America’s undocumented. Within Asian-American circles, deep societal prejudices stemming from the model minority myth propel Asian Americans to hide their undoc-
“Only 20% of eligible Asian immigrants applied.” umented identity from their own communities. The model minority myth, initially propagated by white America as a reaction to the 1960s various civil rights movements, characterizes Asian Americans as the demographic which has risen above racism to properly assimilate into American society. This model minority identity is one of the reasons that Asian-American students often choose not to seek help for being undocumented, because “there’s still a large stigma and fear and shame in our 6 Sullivan, Kate. “Undocumented Asian Immigrants Eye DACA Future.” CNN, Cable News Network, 11 Sept. 2017.
community [being undocumented],” writes Kham Moua, the senior policy manager at OCA, a non-profit dedicated to advancing the well-being of Asian Pacific Americans.78 Even within families, there is often secrecy of immigration status. In an interview I conducted with Kyungmin Cho, a Korean-American student and DACA recipient, he says he “didn’t know of [his] status until [he] was a senior in high school” applying for colleges. Furthermore, he speaks of a friend that keeps their immigration status secret, partly because of the pressure to be the “perfect” immigrant model that Asians follow. In the book Race and Resistance, Viet Nguyen writes that we often “posit [the] model minority discourse and the discourse of the bad subject as a binary,” and this manifests in the distinct binary between the documented and undocumented
7 Wingfield, Adia Harvey. “The Professional Burdens of Being a ‘Model Minority’.” The Atlantic, Atlantic Media Company, 6 June 2016. 8 Hayoun, Massoud. “Undocumented Asian Americans Struggle in Silence.” USA | Al Jazeera, Al Jazeera, 1 Apr. 2017. (Forgotten) Dreamers 5
immigrant.9 One is viewed as “legal” because they obtained the paper that classified them a human being, and one is “illegal” and cast as a foreign alien. This polarizing separation of immigrants has only been heightened by the perpetuation of the model minority myth; you’re either the perfect immigrant who successfully integrated into America, or you’re the alien who couldn’t. Another reason Cho believes the Asian-American undocumented population is less visible is the culture of silence. Adia Harvey Wingfield, a sociology professor at Washington University, writes that the “model-minority standard places
“You’re either the perfect immigrant who successfully integrated into America, or you’re the alien who couldn’t.” enormous pressure on Asian Americans to disavow incidents of racial harassment.” Because the myth depicts Asian Americans “as the minority group that doesn’t complain, it can feel uncomfortable for them to point out stereotypes, insults, and assaults.”10 This is dangerous because the myth masks the problems Asian Americans face until a “high-profile event occurs (such as the rescinding of DACA),” leaving the community with an issue most weren’t aware of in the first place.11 Cho himself was “careless about [his] immigration status until [his] senior year” because he wasn’t aware of his status. Regardless of the differences in visibility, fates of undocumented Asian Americans are just as risky as other undocumented immigrants. According to reporter Massoud Hayoun, in February 2017, “more than 50 people were rounded up by immigration authority raids targeting Asian cuisine
restaurants.”12 The model minority myth highlights LA’s Koreatown as a pinnacle of success while hiding the 20% of Koreans that are undocumented within that growing sector.13 Another harmful effect from the model minority myth is the misconception that all Asians are successful and well-integrated in America. Overwhelmingly, the myth paints over certain minorities within the umbrella term of Asian American— such as the Hmong, Cambodian, and Bangladeshi-Americans, who are more likely to stopped and questioned by police, a defining problem when the person is undocumented. 14 This fracturing of subgroups within Asian-American communities also stems from language barriers. Mari Quenemoen, the director for the Southeast Asia Resource Action Center, says they “haven’t heard of a single Vietnamese DACA applicant” because information has been so limited among the different Asian-American ethnic groups.15 While there is often a common language shared between immigrants from Mexico and Central America, Asian immigrants often share no common language to communicate their immigration struggles with. The dearth of information and resources about DACA and other programs designed to help undocumented Asian immigrants is directly correlated with the diversity of languages in the Asian continent. The myth posits Asian Americans as one homologous body of a successful, rich Asian, therefore implying Asian immigrants don’t need as many resources as other immigrant communities, severely harming the undocumented population. The documented Asian immigrant is your class president, your rich international classmate, your 12 Hayoun. 13 Hayoun.
10
Wingfield.
14 Ramakrishnan, Karthick, and Farah Ahmad. “Income and Poverty.” State of Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders Series, 21 July 2014, pp. 1–9. Center for American Progress.
11
Wingfield.
15 Hayoun.
9 Nguyen, Viet Thanh. Race and Resistance : Literature and Politics in Asian America, Oxford University Press, 2002.
6 Politics
Ivy League dentist, while the undocumented Asian immigrant is barely an ‘it,’ a person reduced to invisible dreams. This dehumanization of the program by the Trump administration is deliberate. ‘It’ takes jobs away from American workers, ‘it’ takes spots away from American students - it, it, it. The impersonal feel of this pronoun is purposefully degrading, but undocumented Asian immigrants can’t even stake a claim in the term because they are barely visible. The model minority myth has erased even dehumanization from the struggles of Asian Americans. Michelle is a sophomore in CAS majoring in math and economics. She’s an INTJ.
ASIAN AMERICAN VOICES: A N E W A G E O F C R E AT I V E A D V O C A C Y By: Jane Phan Walking through Washington Square Park, depending on whether or not you’re in a hurry, you might notice something occupying the space underneath the iconic Arch: a birdcage-like structure made of steel bars, towering over the park. A gargantuan cutout creates a bridge underneath the structure, the empty space shaped like two men embracing. The bars evoke a feeling of stark division, yet are comfortably nestled under the rounded arch, while the embracing figures add an element of comfort amidst the steel rigidity. This is one part of Chinese artist Ai WeiWei’s newest public art installations around New York titled “Good Fences Make Good Neighbors,” through which he hopes to generate conversation about the political and social divisions in Trump’s new America.1 Having spent a large portion of his youth in New York, Ai’s art comes with the added context of his personal cultural identity. He is an outspoken critic of his birth country, China, and his political views echo America’s attitudes towards democracy and personal freedoms. Historically, his name has been the most representative of the activist voice within the art world, and an especially inspiring one to the Asian American artist community. While Ai is highly regarded in the international worlds of art and advocacy, we find that Asian Americans are rarely given space on the same platform to spread their ideas here in the U.S. At times, it can seem as if they’re in a different space entirely. Whether or not Ai finds himself directly invested in the affairs of the Asian American artist 1 “Good Fences Make Good Neighbors”: Ai Weiwei on His NYC Exhibition Exploring Borders and Nationalism.” Democracy Now! READ OUR BLOG
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Good Fences Make Good Neighbors. Photo by Evonne Lao
community, his presence is wellknown in the context of globalization and international human rights. Ai’s works first drew attention for their sheer monumentality and public nature. His public installations were undoubtedly the most accessible and publicized works of Asian activist art throughout the 1980s and 90s. Take, for example, his traveling installation of 3000 porcelain crabs
in a gallery space, titled “He Xie.”2 The large expanse is representative of a homophone in Mandarin, where the word for “censorship” sounds identical. Furthermore, the phrase is markedly close to a Chinese Communist Party slogan, which translates to “Harmonious”—as in, the emphasis on a harmonious society, which the government achieves through re2 “Ai Weiwei Biography, Art, and Analysis of Works.” The Art Story.
Asian American Voices: A New Age of Creative Advocacy 7
He Xie
stricting information. This play on linguistics creates the foundation of this art piece, and its vast size makes his criticism of China’s information censorship glaringly clear. The public nature of his art and its direct relevance to society’s well-being made Ai’s voice hard to ignore. Despite his international success, here in the United States,
In our current age of technology, digital media and global communication are creating spaces for an entirely new set of voices. homegrown efforts from Asian-American artists seem to be ignored. However, in our current age of technology, digital media and global communication are creating spaces for an entirely new set of voices. In this new age, the Asian Pacific American (APA) community’s new creative minds must be recognized. However, any publicization of such artists has not reached the monumental impact that Ai’s did. The nuances involving artistry and activism are consistently evolving, and the increasing intersectionality of international 8 Politics
activism connects Asia and America. The intertwined identities of Asians, Americans, and Asian Americans can
The intertwined identities of Asians, Americans, and Asiwwan Americans can contribute to a new collective activist voice. contribute to a new collective activist voice. Now is an opportune time to usher in a new era of progressiveness and acceptance using art and strong activist messages from these communities. With the current intense political and social divisions, it is also incredibly important that the oft-silenced voices of Asian Americans can be heard and seen as the Trump administration exercises its power through partisan and divisive agendas. Xenophobic and prejudiced rhetoric is publicized with diminishing shock value: we have witnessed the return of neo-Nazi rhetoric in the events in Charlottesville, Virginia, and a steadily rising rate of racial hate crimes since Trump was sworn in. With many young and racialized voices at the helm of this contemporary activist movement, a new question arises:
what kind of artistic activist statements are being created today by the contemporary Asian-American arts community? The answer lies in the timing. 2017 signals an era in which more people than ever get their news from social media rather than traditional media sources such as newspapers and television. At this point in time, though, content easily spread through online platforms simply have much more streamlined paths to relevancy in the public eye. Online media has become the most prevalent forms of art and advocacy; advertising campaigns are spearheaded by social media movements, and news are spread through hashtags and individual sharing. However, the short and snappy “viral” nature of online information also spells
Online media has become the most prevalent forms of art and advocacy. trouble for any movement in this digital age. The widespread visibility of these online artists’ movements will need consistent relevancy or a constant production of new ideas, as traditional artists such as Ai have shown.
SAGC Instagram campaign with the New Museum
Take the incredibly successful activist art campaign, the Sad Asian Girls Club (SAGC). The Asian-American group produced performance pieces, physical media, and social media campaigns in response to the stereotyping and oppression of Asian women in contemporary media. Their works quickly spread and resonated with the pan-Asian femme+female community across the United States.3 Their project “Self-Care is Warfare” was a “two-part project consisting of one video and one collection of typographic treatments. The video portion is about self-care and how to move forward.” The video was a part of an Instagram take-over at New Museum’s ‘Scamming the Patriarchy’ program.”4 Their use of Instagram to spread awareness through graphic text and imagery was a testament to the innovative force of social media users and their activist spirit. However, the organization ended merely two years after it started, active only from 2015 to 2017, largely due to the fluid nature of online media efforts and the subversive effects it has on its creators. In her personal goodbye letter, co-creator Esther Fan wrote of 3
Homepage. SAG.
4
“Selfcare as Welfare.” SAG.
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the draining effects SAGC had on her mental health, as well as the “inevitable” downward shift in quality of work. Such shifts reflect the need for constant production in order to maintain relevancy and attention in the fastpaced online sphere. While the spirit of the movement remains in the discourse of many Asian-American media users, SAGC itself is no more, and the website opens with a goodbye letter, thanking their followers for their support. The online media era of information is still in full swing, and it is practically impossible to predict what movements in media and culture the future will hold. Seeing how technology and the greater social landscape are constantly shifting, we must look to the future and consider what kind of creative advocacy Asian Americans wish to implement. For example, Shani Shih, a D.C.-based multimedia artist, is taking inspiration from the politicized nature of graffiti and street art to express sociopolitical activist messages.5 Audrey Mai, an L.A.-based comic artist known under the handle “Cute Hospital,” is curating and organizing an online collaborative zine (self-published magazine) about the unseen effects of men5
tal illness, titled “Invisible Illness.” Inspiring artists like Shih and Mai are taking both traditional and innovative media approaches to art and activism, steadily pushing against the stereotype of the quiet and passive Asian. As Asian Americans break free from the confines of the model minority myth, they also tear down the restrictive stereotype that Asians lack strong voices in advocacy and beyond. As these young creatives gear to enter a tense sociopolitical landscape, it is imperative that we listen to their ideals of what activism and art will look like in the coming years. Jane is a sophomore from Boston, currently in the Education Studies Program.
Homepage. Shanishih. Asian American Voices: A New Age of Creative Advocacy 9
DISAGGREGATION AND (IN)VISIBILITY IN THE NUMBERS
By: Lauren Zou Outside the Massachusetts State House, throngs of Chinese Americans proudly held signs that read “Racism Bill Say NO!” They were protesting the disaggregation bill introduced in January 2017, which would require collecting more detailed data about Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders. Although Asian Americans are often rendered invisible in American society, Southeast and South Asian voices are even further silenced within the Asian-American community. In mainstream American media, the Asian faces and stories we typically see are East Asian, a problem that lies at the heart of this controversy. Recently, there has been a larger push to collect and separate data by ethnicity within the racial category “Asian,” a process called disaggregation. The US Department of Education writes on its website, “Disaggregat10 Politics
Protesting against disaggregation bill
ed data demonstrates that some AAPI subgroups face greater challenges than aggregated data suggests.” Supporters of disaggregation argue that the data collected would reveal disparities in areas such as education, income, and health care. This information could break down the model minority myth and lead to better resource distribution for Asian Americans. While it is true that some Asian communities have been able to thrive, this is not true across all Asian-American communities. The model minority myth lumps all Asian Americans into one homogenous entity—essentially, one person’s success is perceived as everyone’s success. For example, the aggregated data for Asian Americans show a much higher median income than the national average. However, the actual range among different ethnic groups within the Asian-American
demographic varies widely. A select few groups raise the median, which gives the impression that all Asian Americans are more successful than white Americans. This same pattern of skewed data occurs with education attainment, employment rates, and more. The aggregated data on Asian Americans gives an inaccurate perception of Asian-American success, which perpetuates the ‘model minority myth.’ The model minority, conceived during the civil rights movement, is deeply harmful to all people of color in America. It was and still is a weapon wielded by white America to keep people of color in line, and pits Asian Americans against other minorities. White Americans can use the model minority myth as justification in asking, “If Asians can assimilate and succeed without assistance from the state, then why can’t other minorities do the same?” This assumption that all Asian Americans have the ability to succeed without government assistance ignores the challenges many Southeast and South Asians face and the disparities within the Asian-American sphere. The model minority myth is applied to all Asian Americans, yet not all Asian Americans fit into the mold. According to Jose Antonio Vargas, CEO of non-profit organization Define American, “How the mainstream media has contextualized Asians as the ‘model minority’ has left a lot of people out, economically and socially.” The model minority myth masks the suffering of many South and Southeast Asian communities; it completely erases their challenges in American society, and forces onto them narratives that are not theirs—specifically, East Asian narratives.
“[The model minority myth] completely erases their challenges in American society, and forces onto them narratives that are not theirs.” Southeast Asians often face higher poverty levels and lower rates of education attainment compared to
other AAPIs.1 In 2008, the percentage of Asian Americans living below the poverty line was 12.6 percent, only 0.2 percent above the national average. However, Hmong, Vietnamese, Laotian, and Cambodian ethnic communities live in poverty at much higher rates than the national average. Hmong-Americans face the highest poverty rate among those groups: 37.8 percent of Hmong-Americans live below the poverty line. High school dropout rates are also much higher among Southeast Asian Americans; in 2006, 40 percent of Hmong, 38 percent of Laotian, and 35 percent of Cambodian communities were unable to complete high school. Again, aggregated Asian-American data does not accurately represent this; the dropout rate among all Asian Americans in 2000 was 3.5 percent, the lowest of any racial group.2 Many Southeast Asian communities are far more economically and socially disadvantaged than East Asians, yet these nuances are not discussed in conversations about Asian Americans. Many Southeast Asians immigrated to the US as refugees, an experience that differs wildly from middle to upper-middle class East Asians immigrating to the US for education and opportunities. Islam is the most widely practiced religion in Southeast Asia, which consequently means Southeast Asians experience far more xenophobia, particularly Islamophobia, compared to East Asians in the US. After Trump’s election, Islamophobic hate crimes spiked, which is something that East Asians typically do not have to worry about.3 Due to their physical appearance, South Asians are often mistaken for Muslims even when they do not practice Islam, and Sikh men face an increase in hate crimes because people assume they are Muslim. Southeast Asians, South Asians and Pacific Islanders are also physical1 Fuchs, Chris. “California Data Disaggregation Bill Sparks Debate in Asian-American Community.” NBC News. August 26, 2016. 2 “Critical Issues Facing Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders.” The White House: President Barack Obama. 3 Jenkins, Jack. “Just two days after Trump’s election, reports of anti-Islam attacks spike.” Think Progress. READ OUR BLOG
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ly excluded from participating in the East Asian-centric Asian-American sphere. The push for Asian-American representation in media has been largely focused on East Asians, which is also true of Asian-American political organizations. Language access also demonstrates this uneven representation, as many spaces offer Chinese, Korean, and Japanese translations without offering languages such as Vietnamese, Tagalog or Khmer. Once Southeast Asians arrive in the US, they are faced with completely different spaces and challenges compared to what East Asians are met with. However, there is some controversy surrounding the push for disaggregation. Many Chinese-Americans see disaggregation as a new source of oppression against Asian Americans. Jianhao Chen, the organizer of a protest against a disaggregation bill in Rhode Island, compares disaggregation with “Nazi Germany’s 1935 Nuremberg Law that singled out Jews in the pretense of data collection, only to be conveniently used as a basis for genocide in the following decade.” Another common sentiment is that these bills are not to be trusted because they only apply to Asians and no other racial groups. The majority of the Chinese-American community opposes disaggregation because of its possible impact on affirmative action. Some believe that disaggregation will lead to increased discrimination against Chinese students by colleges. According to Karthick Ramakrishnan, a public policy professor at the University of California, Riverside, “The belief is that by killing any kind of data collection on
Poverty rates by ethnic groups, 2009
race, these Chinese-Americans might have a fair shot getting into Ivy League schools.” The protests against disaggregation further erase ethnic groups within the Asian-American community that already are not sufficiently recognized. These disaggregation bills will allow institutions to better understand the challenges that overlooked ethnic groups face. With more accurate information about poverty, healthcare, and education within the Asian-American community, groups can engage in stronger and better advocacy for fair representation. This can impact funding and increase access to much-needed resources. The term ‘Asian American’ is a political term—one that developed in response to a need for a political body that advocated for all these disparate groups. With more information from disaggregated data, we can wield this term, this identity, to the fullest extent. Lauren is a sophomore from Massachusetts, majoring in Environmental Studies and Economics
Disaggregation and (In)visibility in the Numbers 11
K-POP GOES
THE DISTANCE By: Lisa Kindyeyeva
K-pop, a style of music which originated in South Korea, has skyrocketed in popularity in Europe over the past few years. Promotions for K-pop stars are showing up more frequently on different social media platforms, like Instagram and online fashion campaigns. This year has been particularly impactful, due to new album releases by leading K-pop artists like Taeyang and G-Dragon, and bands like EXO and BTS. Most notably, K-pop boy band BTS won Top Social Artist Award at the Billboard Music Awards, beating American pop superstars like Justin Bieber and Ariana Grande. K-pop has risen in recognition throughout and beyond Asia, eventually changing the idea of what K-pop is for European fans. Although K-pop was introduced relatively recently to Europe, it has become more than just entertainment. It is a significant part of people’s lives, and this popularity may be due to its versatility. As my friend Alisiya Guseynova, a 19-yearold student from Russia and K-pop superfan, said, “Everyone can find a genre of K-pop to love, since there’s lots of different singers groups. You have everything from big girl bands to rappers who explore the idea of Korean music very differently. The unique qualities of each song offer something new to find every time you listen which might be why this style became so popular in Europe.” The introduction of K-pop in Europe has also helped to break down misconceptions and Asian stereotypes, such as the common idea that Asians are only good at science
12 Culture and Entertainment
Taeyang’s collaboration with Fendi
and math. I have witnessed these stereotypes in action; in my high school in England, British students believed that my friends from Hong Kong did well in math simply because they were Asian, thus overlooking their effort and work ethic. Despite growing cultural and racial diversity, countries like the United Kingdom are still home to conservative attitudes, viewing Asians as perpetual outsiders. However, as one of the most emotional art forms, music helps reveal and break down these problematic beliefs. Alisiya herself said, “I never thought of Asian culture before and was quite skeptical about it, but now I’m amazed by their talent and
hard-working culture.” Despite only having a vague concept of Korean culture at first, as Alisiya discovered more artists she became fascinated by how their talent and totally unique music. K-pop helped her connect with Chinese and Korean classmates; instead of focusing on cultural differences, they could share a common interest. Apart from gaining great friends, Alisiya became more open towards different Asian cultures and people. She explained, “My interest doesn’t end only with Korea now. I want to learn more about other countries as well, like Japan and Hong Kong. K-pop is not only a source of entertainment for me, but a great op-
K-pop concert statistics. Infogrphic courtesy of MyMusicTaste.
portunity to interact with people and learn more about the culture.” According to Billboard, 76.1% of K-pop concerts are held in East Asia and only 4.26% in Europe. However, there has been a noticeable growth in the number of concerts in Europe since 2016. For example, this fall was the first major opportunity for European fans to see K-pop live. G-Dragon, one of the most successful K-pop idols, was the first artist to add European cities to his 2017 World Tour , and tickets immediately sold out. Fans all across Europe attended his concerts in London, Birmingham, Paris and Berlin, often traveling long distances to see their idol. Alisiya travelled from Russia to London to see G-Dragon, and I flew all the way from Ukraine to the United States to see Taeyang’s concert “White Night.” The passion we have for K-pop is now shared with thousands of other fans across Europe; whereas K-pop was a little-known niche interest only a few years ago, now there are countless Facebook groups and Instagram pages devoted to K-pop artists. Instagram accounts like @yg_family_ updates and sites like BigBangUp-
K-pop has gone beyond music and the entertainment platform, becoming a pathway to new cultures and people across the world. READ OUR BLOG
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dates.com help European fans follow their favourite artists with English news and stories. Rising interest in K-pop has led to much greater European exposure of Asian culture. Today, many artists collaborate with huge fashion brands: G-Dragon is a leading figure of Chanel, and Taeyang created a limited line of clothing with Fendi. This year’s fashion week also featured many Korean actors and singers, not only as important guests but as active participants. For example, Park Seo Joon was invited to Milan Fashion Week, and MINO participated in London Fashion Week. Consequently, people in Europe are beginning to notice and follow Asian trends, leading to increased demand for Korean makeup and clothes. Since European shopping malls have not yet begun stocking Korean makeup brands, there has been a massive boom of insta-shops which sell the most popular items, like lip tints, BB creams, and eyeliners. Some of these so-called ‘online-stores’ sell pieces of clothing worn by famous Korean singers and actors, allowing fans to follow their idols’ fashion styles. Many bloggers are also recreating the Korean style of make-up, including signature ‘looks’ of K-pop stars. Thus, K-pop has risen beyond music and the entertainment platform, becoming a pathway to new cultures and people across the world. This global interaction through the vehicle of music is
This global interaction through the vehicle of music is changing attitudes in Europe, where many people still consider Asia a place solely for technological and scientific advances. changing attitudes in Europe, where many people still consider Asia a place solely for technological and scientific advances. However, now more and more Europeans recognize the creative and cultural aspects of Asian countries, and are attempting to understand their views and traditions instead of relying on stereotypes. When I visited South Korea, I was struck by how many fellow visitors were travelling to explore and open their horizons. For me, apart from being a new and exciting experience, the trip offered a chance to learn about South Korea’s history and culture. It helped me develop a better understanding of the country and its people. K-pop is not just a source for entertainment, but an opportunity for European fans to understand the different and magnificent culture of South Korea. Lisa is a freshman from Ukraine. She is studying Global Liberal Studies, and is passionate about literature.
K-Pop Goes the Distance 13
MUCH ADO
ABOUT FOOD By: Deanna Tran I waited eagerly in line after seeing the proud display in front of the Global station at Palladium’s dining hall. “Bao Station,” it read. My mouth watered as I thought back to the last time I devoured one of those warm, fluffy white buns. I had been at a Chinese restaurant in Philadelphia, and the buns were served on a platter with roasted duck, hoisin sauce, and slices of green onion. In the back of my mind, I expected something somewhat similar to that experience, but those expectations were destroyed the moment I saw the word “teriyaki” and was told that a little bit of cilantro on the bun counted as a “side.” Most of you reading this are probably thinking, “She should’ve known better,” and truthfully, I did. I knew I wasn’t going to find the best buns of my life at a university dining hall in New York, but there 14 Culture and Entertainment
Artwork by Zoya To.
was still some expectation for the effort put into recreating this iconic dish.
Who has the authority to make changes to these traditional cuisines, and at what point, if any, do these changes become insulting to the members of that ethnic group? Moments like this highlight an all-too-common irony at NYU. As a global institution, NYU prides itself on its inclusiveness and diversity, but sometimes I wonder if this attempt at inclusiveness breeds appropriation. This invokes some tough questions: When is “eth-
nic” food no longer considered representative of that culture if it has been changed? Who has the authority to make changes to these traditional cuisines, and at what point, if any, do these changes become insulting to the members of that ethnic group? When does adaptation become appropriation? Questions like these have also been posed time and time again by food and travel enthusiasts and academics. Just last year, Bon Appétit Magazine faced an enormous amount of criticism from the Asian-American community after posting a video of a white chef explaining how to best eat phở. The video dubbed this historic Vietnamese dish “The New Ramen,” sparking a slew of scrutiny and a reinvigorated conversation about identity politics. In an op-ed for NPR titled “Don’t Call It ‘The New Ramen’: Why Pho Is Central To Vietnamese Identity,” Vietnamese cookbook author Andrea Nquyen wrote fondly about her memories of the dish. She also criticized the editors at Bon Appétit, not for featuring a white chef but for their insensitivity to the history of Vietnamese cuisine, bastardizing phở as “fashionable food.” “Born during the French colonial period, this dish persisted through political upheaval and economic hardship, then resettled and flourished with Vietnamese immigrants all over the globe,” she writes. “No one may claim pho but the Vietnamese, whom, as history has proven, are a feisty bunch.” Her argument highlights the key factor behind many people’s anger about the cultural appropriation of food—the alleged offender’s ignorance about the culture they try to imitate. While you can probably guess my initial opinion on the subject, I conducted several interviews to highlight the complexity of these questions. John Burdick, an Associate Director of Academic Support and a PhD student in SUNY Buffalo’s Department of Transnational Studies, pointed out the merits of providing international culinary options for students at NYU who may be experiencing homesickness. He stated, “If you can travel across borders and across space and maintain a connection to your culture through food, that can be an important way to build a sense of community.” He continued to clarify that, as someone who has never personally visited a NYU dining location, he does not know if those benefits are being realized based on the quality or accuracy of the food. As an NYU student on a meal plan, sophomore nutrition major Yunfei Xu took a more definitive stance on the issue, stating that NYU should continue presenting global cuisines. Originally from Shanghai, she explained, “Food becomes a symbol that represent [sic] our backgrounds and identities.” She also expressed sympathy for the university’s challenges in settling on a standard when people’s tastes vary drastically. Several NYU other students expressed the same type of sympathy and leniency towards the university. READ OUR BLOG
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NYU Dining’s Instagram page features a picture of Vietnamese food in Weinstein.
Sekai Murashige, a Japanese-American junior at NYU, lamented that while the food quality varies on campus, especially in regard to vegetables, he doesn’t believe that people pay much attention to it. “The food could be better, but the system has to feed thousands of kids,” he said. “Flavor or accuracy cannot be the focus.” Although he doesn’t view NYU’s Japanese options favorably, he doesn’t take personal offense.
“The food could be better, but the system has to feed thousands of kids. Flavor or accuracy cannot be the focus.” H.S., a Japanese-American senior at NYU who declined to give his last name, views the cultural inaccuracies more as a source of amusement than anger. Recalling one instance of a “ramen station” in Downstein, he laughed as he described how the Japanese dish, which Much Ado About Food 15
traditionally features Chinese wheat noodles in a broth, was served on a shallow plate with a drizzle of soup. He stated, “The people preparing it aren’t familiar with the food, but I can’t blame them. I’m not offended; I think it’s funny, but I can see it potentially being a problem.” Neither Murashige and H.S. were incensed by the culinary mistakes they witnessed, and even went so far as to praise the university’s overall efforts, especially compared to other universities in the U.S. However, although NYU does provide some varied dining options, the quality of our international dishes don’t seem to differ much from these other universities. Take, for example, a recent controversy at Oberlin College where Asian and Asian-American students protested about their university’s dining halls for appropriating their cultures’ food. In an article for The Atlantic, writer Conor Friedersdorf described a Vietnamese student’s anger with Oberlin after seeing a bad imitation of bánh mì: “Instead of a crispy baguette with grilled pork, pate, pickled vegetables and fresh herbs, the sandwich used ciabatta bread, pulled pork and coleslaw.” As a Vietnamese American, I was shocked when I recently saw what resembled more of an Italian Hoagie labelled as a “bánh mì sandwich” in Peet’s Coffee. But if NYU has the same issues regarding international food as Oberlin, why aren’t our students protesting like theirs? The answer lies in context. According to the website CollegeData, about 4.3% of Oberlin’s students identify as Asian, which is 10% lower than the Asian demographic at NYU.1 This difference in diversity may help explain the different reactions; being a smaller minority at Oberlin, Asian students at the Midwestern college may be lacking the type of representation and inclusivity that many of us take for granted here at NYU. In that case, it makes sense that any perceived cultural appropriation would be more emotionally impactful. Another factor is the privilege most NYU students are awarded by going to college in New York City, a diverse metropolis with eateries representing virtually every culture in the world. Unlike us, the students attending the Ohio-based Oberlin College can’t just walk a couple blocks to find a dim sum restaurant.
For most people, food is more than what you eat; it can carry the weight of a community’s identity. Cultural appropriation regarding food is a nuanced subject, even when only examined in the context of a college campus, and throughout my research, no one has been able to provide a clear answer. However, what these articles and interviews have cemented is that for most people, food is more than what you eat; it can 1
“Facts and Figures.” NYU. 16 Culture and Entertainment
Artwork by Julie Wu
carry the weight of a community’s identity. So should we be upset that NYU sometimes drops the proverbial ball when it comes to dining? I mean, how much effort can they really be putting into the food when ramen is served on a plate? When asked how dining services at NYU create and maintain the food, an anonymous staff member in one of NYU’s dining halls said that all of the recipes in that particular location were created by a “master chef” hired by the university. Alluding to the dining surveys, he stated, “They take all of your inputs and make changes here and there to the menus. As a matter of fact, the chef was here this morning, and he suggested that we change our pastry display.” Deanna Tran is a sophomore studying Computer Science. She loves to read about politics, sociology, and gender theory, and watch reruns of old TV shows.
In a big city in a big world, remember the dandelion wishes that brought you here. Hold on to those wishes and keep going. Like the floating dandelion seeds, keep on rising. READ OUR BLOG
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Stephanie Yin is a sophomore studying Media, Culture, and Communication.
Make a Wish 17
INDIE ON THE RISE
By: Morgan Kuin
TAKE THE STAGE
Pictured rom left to right: Sameer Gadhia from Young the Giant, Mitski, Jay Som, and Ian Chang from Landlady
The stage was dark, until a flash of rainbow-colored light-up sneaker soles streaked out from the wings. When the purple and blue lights rose, Michelle Zauner, the frontwoman of indie rock band Japanese Breakfast, was revealed sporting all-white attire, her tattooed arms holding a matching white electric Fender guitar. Zauner launched into her song “Diving Woman,” strumming her guitar, hopping around stage, and thrashing her head while drummer Craig Hendrix kept a steady beat, the bass drum of his drum kit depicting a line art image of Zauner wearing her mother’s hanbok, a traditional Korean dress. Zauner, who stopped by New York in early October to promote her newest album Soft Sounds From Another Planet, is part of a new movement in indie rock music where Asian-American musicians are at the forefront. With other acts like Mitski, Jay Som, Tangerine, No Vacation, SALES, and Young The Giant, more 18 Culture and Entertainment
ASIAN AMERICANS
Asian-American leads and bandmembers are now breaching a traditionally white-dominated industry, creating a safe space for Asian Americans in the scene by sharing personal stories through their music.
Creating a safe space for Asian Americans in the scene by sharing personal stories through their music. One example is JapaneseAmerican musician Mitski, who lays bare her personal narrative in her song “Your Best American Girl.” She sings, “Your mother wouldn’t approve of how my mother raised me / But I do, I think I do / And you’re an all-American boy / I guess I couldn’t help trying to be your best American girl.” In a conversation with NPR Music, Mitski explains, “I am half-Japanese, and it came from wanting to just fit into this very American person’s life and simply not being
able to. Just fundamentally being from a different place and feeling like I would just get in the way of their progression of their life, because I could just never get to wherever they’re naturally going.” Zauner’s album Psychopomp is also deeply personal, as it centers around her mother’s passing. She displays her anguish in the opening song “In Heaven,” in which she sings, “The dog’s confused / She just paces around all day / She’s sniffing at your empty room…Now I leave here as an empty f*cking hole.” Regarding her song “Everyone Wants to Love You,” Zauner tweeted: “Everyone Wants to Love You was written about my relationship with a woman who has no idea I wrote it for her.” Zauner also revealed in an interview with KEXP that her album-titled song “Psychopomp” includes a recording of her mother after her cancer diagnosis saying gwenchanta (괜찮다), or “it’s okay” in Korean. Zauner’s confrontation with depression, sexuality, and
heartache broadens and exposes the emotional extent that Asian Americans experience, fighting the stereotype of Asian-American stoicism. Through these lyrics, Asian-American indie rock artists are able to lay down their own stories, often describing their Asian-American experience: one of loneliness, reconciliation with identity, and even mental illness. However, despite the lack of coverage, this reckoning with identity has occurred in other genres throughout music history. One example is jazz, which originated in the late 19th and early 20th century. Created by the African American communities of New Orleans, jazz is a fusion of both African and European music traditions. Although prominent artists like Louis Armstrong and Billie Holiday have become household names, most people are generally unaware of the Asian-American jazz movement, which reached full swing in the 70s and continued through the 90s. Originating primarily in the Bay Area of San Francisco, Asian-American artists began incorporating their cultures’ traditional instruments such as the Japanese koto, awws well as their own stories in the cathartic art form. For example, trio Joanne Nobuko Miyamoto, Charlie Chin, and Chris Kando Iijima created the album A Grain of Sand, Music for the Struggle by Asians in America, through which they explored themes of the Asian-American experience. As Asian-American jazz musician Mark Izu said on his blog First Voice, jazz gave voice to “nineteenth-century Chinese indentured servitude, twentieth-century Japanese incarceration, and twenty-first century immigrants facing the repercussions and aftermath of decades of failed and uninformed American policy.” From this movement, artists like Izu, Toshiko Akiyoshi, Jon Jang, and Fred Ho emerged, as well as a multitude of annual Asian American Jazz festivals. Hip-hop, which developed in the 1970s by inner-city African American communities, has also seen Asian American breakout artists such as Dumbfoundead and Awkwafina as the genre continues to climb in popularity. Both of these artists also READ OUR BLOG
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found ways to incorporate their stories in their music; as Awkwafina said in an interview to Angry Asian Man about her song “Green Tea”: “It’s an anthem for young women of color to embrace their quirkiness, their sexuality, their inner-child and their creativity with passion.” Meanwhile, pop and rock genres originated side-by-side in the US and UK during the 1950s, and developed separately in the 60s. From the Beatles and the Rolling Stones of the 60s to the Chainsmokers and Taylor Swift of today, mainstream pop and rock music have always been dominated by white artists; whiteness has become the standard. With these genres extremely rooted in white history, it seems that minority groups like Asian Americans would find no place in the music scene, especially since this emotive, irreverent, loud industry seems to clash with the stereotype of passive, reserved Asian Americans.
Asian-American musicians have forged new narratives in the music world, which allow young audiences to resonate with their stories. However, as these current Asian-American indie rock artists have demonstrated, Asian Americans have entered the music scene by creating their own venue to relay their experiences and stories despite the
‘white standard.’ According to Sophie, an Asian-American high schooler who declined to give her last name, Asian-American musicians have forged new narratives in the music world, which allow young audiences to resonate with their stories. “I think even though [society is] getting more progressive, there’s still this expectation of Asians to not go into creative jobs or to do badly in them, so it’s really important for me to see them doing this and thriving,” Sophie said. “I think musicians reach and sit with teens, so it’s really great for us Asian-American teens to have role models like them while we’re sort of figuring out our identities.” Despite the overwhelming whiteness of mainstream music and its history, Asian Americans have asserted their existence and stories by delving into indie rock and other genres. By performing their lyrics in a such a raw way, Asian-American indie rock is revolutionary: although Asian Americans are often culturally unaccustomed to expressing vulnerability and angst, these artists do so unapologetically. They reveal another dimension to an Asian-American youth narrative, where Asian Americans are allowed to feel and connect with others who experience similar stories. As Tangerine’s drummer, Miro, said in an interview with Korean Indie, “Being multi-racial, female musicians means that we’re pushing into territory that’s not commonly occupied by people who look the way that we do, and I’m always aware of that. How can you not be? At the end of the day, though, we’re here because we love music— crafting it, performing it, sharing it, discussing it endlessly. And that’s what we want to be recognized for.” Morgan is a first year from Massachusetts studying Liberal Studies.
Michelle Zauner performing a show in Madison, Wisconsin
Indie on the Rise: Asian Americans Take the Stage 19
UNTITLED 1 By: Evonne Lao
20 Untitled 1
I am exploring the definition of self-identity in both of the pieces. Each one of us is often associated with different tags and expectations that result tremendous stress. We often feel lost while growing up, struggling to find the balance that
UNTITLED 2
fits the social norm but also true to oneself. However, there are a lot of ways, perhaps unconventional, perhaps need some creativity that can represent our true color.
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Evonne (Yu-Fang) Lao is a freshman in Liberal Studies.
Untitled 2 21
SOUTH KOREA’S
PLUS-SIZE
MODELS
MAKE THEIR DEBUT
By: Dylan Lee In a country where many consider rail-thin K-pop stars the representation of the ideal woman, one model, despite all odds, has broken onto the scene. Vivian Geeyang Kim has made history by becoming the first plus-size model in Korea to be featured in fashion magazine ELLE. Kim, who graced the pages of ELLE this past summer, has been a longtime advocate for body positivity. With a loyal following on social media, she has used her platform to help other women struggling with body image and public scrutiny. She even launched her own online fashion store and publication to make stylish clothing more available for curvy women, as the majority of mainstream Korean brands have limited options.
“Plus-size” women are openly criticized in South Korean society, portrayed as negligent and unhealthy. Her breakout success is particularly significant because “plus-size” women are openly criticized in South Korean society, portrayed as negligent and unhealthy. Kim herself said she was often cyber-bullied for being “flat-out fat” and “disgusting.”1 Two finalists in a Korean plus-size modeling competition, Yeom Yoon Hye and Bae Kyo Hyun,, also spoke about their struggles with being bullied. Hye said when 1 Samson, Carl. “South Korean Plus-Sized Model Called ‘Disgusting’ For Redefining Beauty.” NextShark. September 13, 2016.
22 Culture and Entertainment
Vivian Geeyang Kim poses on her Instagram @plusmodel
she was younger, boys often made fun of her “elephant legs.” Hyun recalled her own hardships in middle school: “The boy students would laugh at me when I’m eating at the cafeteria. Since then, I packed lunch and ate by myself in the classroom.”2 Everyday body-shaming can be seen in countless advertisements throughout South Korean cities, showing thinner women ridiculing larger girls by calling them lazy 2 Yckim124. “Young plus size models open up about living obese in Korea their goals to be plus size and pretty.” Allkpop. July 24, 2017.
In the face of these absurdly high standards, many women and girls in South Korea use unnatural and sometimes harmful methods of obtaining their ideal appearance. In the face of these absurdly high standards, many women and girls in South Korea use unnatural and sometimes harmful methods of obtaining their ideal appearance. As pale skin is often seen as desirable, many women purchase products
to lighten their natural skin tone. According to Inquirer Business, a recent survey noted that 4 out of 10 women surveyed in Hong Kong, Malaysia, the Philippines, and South Korea use a skin whitening cream.3 Similarly, as features like high cheekbones, perky noses, and double-eyelids are viewed as more beautiful, thousands of individuals invest in South Korea’s flourishing plastic surgery industry every year. The notion that any “imperfection” can be changed with active effort has had a devastating effect on the self-esteem of many young women and girls. A 2014 study by the Korean Centers for Diseases Control and Prevention found that 18.8 percent of girls bought over-the-counter weight-loss medication and laxatives that year, and even forced themselves to vomit after meals to lose weight.4 In spite of these obstacles, plus-size models like Vivian Geeyang Kim are deviating from this route. Instead of trying to change their natural appearance, they are accepting their bodies as they are, gaining popularity by promoting a narrative of inclusiveness. South Korea is not the only country participating in this movement; plus-size models across the world are leading the way, ranging from Ashley Graham to Saffi Karina to Zach Miko. However, the term “plus-size” itself has been a cause of controversy throughout the global modeling industry. Simply Be, a UK clothing company, began a “We Are Curves” campaign, which sparked intense debate. Many women felt that labeling “plus-size” models was just another way for the modeling industry to create a sense of ‘otherness’ among women who do not fit the stereotypical image of the tall, thin woman seen across billboards and in magazines. Yet others have 3 Pe, Roger. “Yes, Asia is obsessed with white skin.” Inquirer Business. October 01, 2016. 4 Agcopra, Therese. “Young South Koreans Fall Victims to Eating Disorders As Social Pressure to Look Skinny Forces Them To Start Dieting Early.” Koreaportal. November 13, 2015. READ OUR BLOG
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Two other “plus-size” models, Yeom Yoon Hye and Bae Kyo Hyun on their joint Instagram account @jstyle_evellet
argued that whether the models fit the definition of “plus-size” or not, variety at all is a positive, as many women in the general population feel underrepresented within the fashion industry. With social media, models who fall outside of societal norms can connect and find a platform without having to be formally signed by a modeling agency. This inclusion not only benefits the models, but also provides other women with a community that will accept their bodies, regardless of shape and size. I believe that the backlash in response to “plus-size” models in South Korea will be a temporary hindrance as social media’s body-positive movement spreads on a global scale. The world has shown an immense capacity for change and growth; however,
we cannot disregard the similarly immense challenges women face in South Korea and across the world. We need to continue challenging norms, and engaging in productive conversations about these social and cultural pressures if we truly hope to build a more inclusive society. Dylan Lee is a freshman from Virginia, in the Liberal Studies program at NYU.
South Korea’s Plus-Size Models Make Their Debut 23
MEDIA REPRESENTATION
WHY DOES IT
MATTER? By: Chelsea Cheng In a society that is increasingly focused on political correctness, Asian Americans have to navigate the disparity between their own ]experiences and those of Asians living in Asia. The different reactions towards anti-Asian racism continue to fuel tensions between white Americans and Asian Americans over the validity of microaggressions or blatant racism. One specific form of anti-Asian racism is whitewashing in popular media, a phenomenon that adversely affects Asian Americans today, but in a different way than it does Asians living in Asia. Sociologist Lester Andrist defines whitewashing as “the tendency of media to be dominated by white characters, played by white actors, navigating their way through a story that will likely resonate most deeply with white audiences, based on their experiences and worldviews.”1 Coined in the 1 Andrist, Lester. “What Is Whitewashing and Why Does It Matter?” The Sociological Cinema. February 22, 2015. 24 Culture and Entertainment
1990s, this term has since permeated the American vernacular, which speaks volumes about the continued augmentation of the distasteful act in today’s film and TV. Among the major controversies that have surfaced in the recent years, The Great Wall (2016) is one instance that easily comes to mind. The fantasy film directed by renowned Chinese filmmaker Zhang Yimou received immediate backlash by Americans upon release, but Zhang defended his casting choice of Matt Damon as the lead role, stating that the film was intended for a world audience and the main character was not meant to be Chinese.2 Though The Great Wall did poorly in the U.S., it was popular among the Chinese audience at home and became a tremendous financial success. Another film that took the spotlight for the entire duration of its promotion and release period is the 2 McGovern, Joe. “The Great Wall director addresses Matt Damon whitewashing controversy.” Entertainment. August 4, 2016.
2017 fantasy drama, Ghost in the Shell. This once much-anticipated live action remake of a classic Japanese anime faced extreme backlash when DreamWorks made the mistake of casting Scarlett Johansson as the cyborg protagonist, Motoko Kusanagi. The outcry swept across social media, and articles sprung up one after another in a chorus of protest against the whitewashed role. However, most moviegoers in Japan had no problem with the cast choice of Johansson, and were instead excited that the Ghost in the Shell was rising in international prominence. Even more blatantly, the 2017 Netflix remake of the popular anime series, Death Note, thoroughly ridiculed the intellectual and moral essence of the original. By transposing the plot and characters into an American setting with a majority white cast, Death Note (2017) disregards ideological concepts ingrained in Japanese society such as law and justice, which are integral to the original narrative. The only Japanese characters depict-
ed, aside from one major supporting character, were victims of a gratuitous murder scene in a Tokyo nightclub, all of whom were scantily-clothed Japanese women, which further feeds into the oversexualized image of Asian women. To dive deeper into this disparity, we must first take into account social and cultural factors present in many Asian countries. East Asian countries such as China, Japan, and Korea have always had an extremely homogenous population compared to the racially and culturally diverse U.S.. This homogeneity is precisely why Asians living in Asia have such a hard time empathizing with experiences of racism that are so intuitive to members of the Asian diaspora in America. Context matters; the norms of a society determine the values and judgments of that society’s people. In Asia, Asians enjoy a plethora of films and TV shows that star Asian actors, and consequently do not face the problem of erasure in media, which Asian Americans so strongly feel. One can never quite realize the magnitude of a problem when one is not constantly living in it, subjected to it, reminded of and oppressed by it every day. Simply having the head knowledge of racism is not enough for Asians living in Asia to rally behind Asian Americans in combating the lack of representation abroad, because the context which the two groups live in is completely different. Whitewashing has no tangible relevance to a racially homogenous society. Therefore, the frequent excuse of “people in Asia don’t care, so why should you?” used to defend anti-Asian racism is illogical when context is factored in. Asians’ lack of awareness and regard for whitewashing in American media does not invalidate or even remotely diminish Asian-American concerns.
The white protagonist is somehow infinitely more universal, more appealing for a “world audience”, which in reality is only 6.5% white. READ OUR BLOG
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Artwork by Stephanie Yin
Yimou’s statement regarding The Great Wall offers insight into the Chinese public’s stance. He claims that “There are five major heroes in our story and [Damon] is one of them — the other four are all Chinese.” While most of the major characters were indeed Chinese, it does not annul the stark fact that Matt Damon, first and foremost, is the protagonist. Additionally, the notion that only by casting a white actor can he appeal to a “world audience” is, in some sense, at the root of Hollywood racism. The white protagonist is somehow infinitely more universal, more appealing for a “world audience”, which in reality is only 6.5% white. Hollywood’s obsession with the “white savior” trope, in which a white hero saves the primitive and grateful people of color, may be why whitewashing has persisted for nearly a century in film. Although Hollywood attempts to justify and impose the narrative onto a diverse society, the people are striking it down more than ever before. As a minority group in the U.S., Asian Americans’ identities are silenced by every instance of whitewashing. Every white person cast in an Asian role or story directly erases Asian-American presence from media. The consequences are dire: the lack of authentic Asian-American representation leads to distortion in perceptions of Asian Americans, pigeonholing them
Every white person cast in an Asian role or story directly erases Asian-American presence from media. into narrow stereotypes both in entertainment media and in real life. These stereotypes are restrictive and harmful to Asian-American actors trying to showcase themselves as multi-dimensional, not just as the emasculated Asian man, the submissive Asian woman, the nerdy Asian friend, and so on. The idea that only white people can be protagonists with complex personalities does not hold true in the realities of the U.S., home so many different cultures and ethnicities. The historic and continuing white appropriation of Asian roles is painful and threatening to Asian Americans’ very existence in this country. Chelsea is a sophomore majoring in English and minoring in Cinema Studies and Social & Cultural Analysis. She has a great love for film, music and social justice.
Media Representation: Why does it Matter? 25
A TOUGH PILL TO SWALLOW: ASIAN AMERICAN DRUG ABUSE
By: Tom Lynch In the mid-2000s, Mr. Lee was a typical Korean-American lawyer. He worked a day job at a firm. He went to church. He visited his parents, hung out with friends, met relatives at every wedding and holiday—he usual. However, he had a secret. Mr. Lee was also using cocaine with his friends on the weekends. It had started rather casually. For a long time, Mr. Lee’s best friend would visit on the weekends and offer to let him try drugs. And, for a long time, Mr. Lee refused. However, he eventually gave in and found that he liked it. It was an easy way to deal with the pressure he felt from his family as a Korean-American who was a closeted gay man. Under the influence of drugs, he could find the confidence to be the life of the club, to feel himself. Unfortunately, recreational use quickly spiraled into uncontrollable abuse; four years later, he was unemployed and facing felony charges for aggravated assault. 26 Category/ Section
Mr. Lee (who requested to remain anonymous) isn’t an outlier. In a 2007 survey by the Journal of Ethnicity and Substance Abuse, two out of every three Asian Americans had smoked weed and/or taken hallucinogens in the last month, and a staggering 55% reported having tried more than five drugs throughout their life. While Asian Americans report a substantially lower rate of abuse compared to other ethnicities, the individuals suffering from abuse problems face the same, if not more severe, ostracization from their communities. This ranges from the usual alienation from friends and family that drug addicts face, to the expulsion from any semblance of a normal life. Sunrise House, a rehab center in New Jersey, posits that Asian-American drug abuse is often the byproduct of acculturation, which the Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines as “the cultural modification of an individual, group, or people by adapting to or borrowing traits from another culture.” In context, Asian-American acculturation
is often the blend of a distinct desire to retain an Asian identity, and to simultaneously assimilate and integrate el-
“Be it the normalised racism towards Asian Americans in media, the lack of any political pull, or just the day-to-day struggles of any immigrant, it’s quite easy to see how appealing the chance to escape could become.” ements of American culture. It’s a fine line to walk, and for many first- and second-generation Asian Americans, the external pressure of adapting to a radically different and hostile environment can be too much to handle. Be it the normalized racism towards Asian Americans in media, the lack of any political pull, or just the day-to-day struggles of any immigrant, it’s quite easy to see how appealing the chance to
escape could become. However, it’s impossible to deny the equally toxic internal pressure placed on Asian Americans from within communities. For example, Asian Americans like Mr. Lee who identify as LGBTQ face extreme stigma even if they choose to remain closeted. According to research by NYU’s Professor Patrick Egan and Hunter College’s Professor Kenneth Shrill, 48% of Asian Americans voted for California’s Proposition 8, a bill that would ban gay marriage statewide. For Asian Americans like Mr. Lee, this widespread social conservatism and shaming within their communities is a common progenitor to drug abuse. Without an outlet for their identity and their problems, Asian Americans may find it easier to turn to and rely upon drugs as a coping mechanism. Perhaps this, too, is tied to more conservative cultural norms in Asia: a marijuana bust is enough to endanger a pop idol’s career in countries like Korea, as in the case of G-Dragon’s various “scandals,” which pale in comparison to the mildest of any Justin Bieber headline. Similarly, the International Business Times reports that most drug-related felonies are punishable by death in Singapore. Many cultural and policy-based pressures that carry over even a generation after immigration further stigmatize drug abuse in Asian-American communities. This could suggest why abuse rates are relatively low in polls comparing races: while Asian Americans report a 20% less drug abuse than the national average, one is left to wonder if that statistic is indicative of the actual negative impact within the community. According to Geoffrey Hunt, director at the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, “The available data on Asian-American club drug use READ OUR BLOG
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AADAP Prevention Unit
is even scantier and in need of development,” especially as localized studies have shown a worrying upward trend of substance abuse in Asian-American youth. Mr. Lee, who is now working again in law, recently spoke with me over the phone. “It’s surprising,” he said. “Anecdotally, I think there were a lot of Korean and Chinese Americans using drugs when I would go out clubbing. If I had to guess, half the scene was Asian. These weren’t mainly Asian clubs, mind you, they were mainstream. Mainstream, straight clubs in the city. [These Asian Americans] were all heavily using, too. You can never be totally sure, but I can say with near certainty—they were so out of it.” When I asked him why he thought statistics on drug use like those reported by the Journal of Ethnicity and Substance Abuse could be so different from his experience, he said, “It would never, ever come out if you were using. It’s shameful. I don’t know that many Asian Americans feel they could share that.” This may also be related to the fact that there are almost no Asian-American focused rehab clinics in the United States. A quick Google search for an “Asian American Rehab Center” yields only two results nationwide, both of which are in the California Bay Area.
“There are no resources, no places for us. But we need one.” Mr. Lee commented that this was similar to his own search: “There are absolutely no [centers of the sort]. I looked. In the depths of my addiction, I looked for that connection to my life, but I found none. I only found a rehab center through a Christian group.” After a brief pause, he added, “I saw so much drug use even ten years ago within our community—I can’t help but imagine what it is like now. There are no resources, no places for us. But we need one. We need a group judgment-free, for Asian Americans, to be open; as it is now there’s just too much taboo.” Mr. Lee may have found hope in recovery, but the experience was, in his words, “horrible.” “I wasn’t able to speak about it; people suspected but Korean culture makes it taboo to the point that you can’t ever bring it up. The perception is not good. If people in the community were less ashamed—if people treated it more like a disease, and less a personal defect—I think there would be a lot less stigma.” Tom is a freshman at the College of Arts and Sciences planning to double major in English and Economics. In his spare time, he enjoys reading, writing, and origami.
A Tough Pill to Swallow: Asian American Drug Abuse 27
DEAR EVAN HAN:
Art by Margaret Yannopoulos
28 Family and Community
MENTAL HEALTH
IN ASIAN AMERICAN COMMUNITIES
By: Alexandra Fong After watching a profoundly moving performance of “You Will Be Found,” I struggled to keep tears from pouring out. With lyrics like “Even when the dark comes crashing through / When you need a friend to carry you / When you’re broken on the ground / You will be found,” it’s hard not to get emotional. Broadway musical Dear Evan Hansen follows title character Evan Hansen, a high school senior with social anxiety, as he is entangled in the aftermath of a classmate’s suicide. The song “You Will Be Found” emphasizes the simple but powerful notion that no one is alone, and that every life matters. For anyone, but especially for people struggling with mental illness, this is an incredibly important message. Throughout the show, I felt the urge to admit to my parents that most of the time, I’m not as okay as I appear; that there were points in my life where I questioned whether my life mattered. I wanted to let out the feelings I had repressed at my own expense, to tell my parents that a lot of the time, I felt like I couldn’t breathe and I didn’t know how to fix myself. I felt like I could finally admit to both them and myself that I have anxiety and depression and I’m not okay — and that’s okay. But as my parents and I left the theater, my dad grumbled off-handedly, “White people problems,” and my heart dropped to my stomach as I thought, “I can never share my whole self with the people I love the most.”
I can never share my whole self with the people I love the most. According to the American Psychological Association, Asian Americans are three times less likely to utilize mental health services compared to white Americans, and this unwillingness to seek help can be attributed to many reasons. One is the model minority myth, the perception that Asian Americans achieve high success as measured by terms of income, education, crime rates, and family/marital stability in spite of the
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Art by Margaret Yannopoulos
struggles they’ve faced. According to Congresswoman and former psychologist Judy Chu, this inaccurate and often harmful myth contains “the perception that Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders don’t suffer from mental and behavioral disorders.”1 Language barriers also prevent Asian Americans from reaching out: almost half of all Asian Americans “will have difficulty accessing mental health treatment because they do not speak English or cannot find services that meet their language needs.”2 But most predominantly, the social stigma surrounding mental illness in Asian cultures permeates Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) lives and creates an unwillingness to seek out mental health services. According to a U.S. Surgeon General’s report in 2001, “only 17% of Asian Americans with a psychological problem sought professional help and less than 6% sought this help from a mental health treatment provider.”3 The resulting feelings of loneliness, helplessness, confusion, and shame can lead to fatal consequences: the suicide 1 Constante, Agnes. “New Bill Targets Asian-American, Pacific Islander Mental Health Stigma.” NBC News, June 1 2017. 2 Asian American/Pacific Islander Communities and Mental Health.” Mental Health America, n.d. 3 Wang, Shihwe, and Bryan S. K. Kim. “Therapist Multicultural Competence, Asian American Participants’ Cultural Values, and Counseling Process.” Journal of Counseling Psychology 57.4, 2010. Dear Evan Han: Mental Health in Asian American Communities 29
rate among AAPIs was 6.19% in 2010, nearly half the national rate.4 To understand this cultural stigma around mental illness, we must recognize two key differences between Western and Asian beliefs systems: the connection between mind and body, and individualism versus collectivism. Although they are just two of many reasons for the stigma surrounding mental illness in AAPI communities, they are nonetheless helpful in understanding these attitudes.
The suicide rate among AAPIs was 6.19% in 2010, nearly half the national rate. Western culture understands the mind and body to be separate, a line of thought that stems from Greek philosophy. According to American psychiatrist Keh-Ming Lin, this not only serves as the foundation for modern Western medicine, but also pervades nearly all aspects of Western culture, including expressions of distress.5 Conversely, Asian tradition has always seen the body and mind as a singular unit. Many Asian cultures view mental illness in this framework, but there are also nuances in their beliefs; for example, Chinese tradition believes that mental illness is caused by dissonant emotions and evil spirits, the latter of which aligns with Japanese thought. Meanwhile, Korean belief considers mental illness a shameful ancestral haunting as punishment for wrongdoing, whereas Vietnamese tradition simply sees depression as sadness.6 This unitary belief between mind and body manifests detrimentally when reporting problems or complaints when seeking medical and professional help. As Lin says, “Although patients typically focused on their somatic complaints when visiting a physician, they were often fully aware of their emotional problems as well as stresses derived from social relationships that might be related to their emotional as well as somatic symptoms.” Despite this awareness, Lin suggests that “most patients selectively presented their symptoms according to what they perceived as appropriate and tended to focus only on somatic suffering while in healthcare settings.” I find myself guilty of this — anytime I have to fill out the health survey before a doctor’s appointment, I’m faced with questions that concern my mental health, and I 4 “Suicide among Racial/Ethnic Populations in the U.S.: Asians, Pacific Islanders, and Native Hawaiians.” Suicide Preven-
can’t bring myself to mark the truth, instead marking what’s neurotypical: exhibiting neurologically ordinary thinking and behavior.7 A second potential reason why AAPI patients like myself are so hesitant in reporting emotional problems is our experiences within a collectivist culture. Whereas Western, especially American, cultures celebrate and encourage individualism, traditional Asian cultures place higher value on the collective family.5 If one member of the family suffers from emotional problems, they compromise not only their role in the hierarchy, but the stability of the whole family. Though the notion of a family hierarchy may become less salient as more generations of AAPI families live in the U.S., the tradition lingers nonetheless. It poses a greater problem in treatment of medical conditions: physical and mental illnesses threaten the family balance, resulting in collective decision-making. Collectivist tradition, inspired by Confucian philosophies, discourages emotional expression for fear of personal weakness and damaged family reputation. Consequently, psychological problems are often suppressed in favor of expressing somatic issues, which AAPIs are less likely to report “until very late in their help-seeking process, when their condition [is] extremely severe and all other resources [have] been exhausted.”8 This isn’t meant to be a reflection of all AAPI families — rather, it just points to a broader problem within the community. Some situations aren’t so drastic: while my family and I aren’t ready to talk about my mental health, I can reach out to my friends. Moreover, because I have health insurance and English fluency, finding professional help if/when needed is fairly straightforward. However, other situations are more challenging: many AAPIs are not so fortunate as to have close confidants, access to health insurance, or English fluency, which is why it’s important to address the spectrum of severity when it comes to mental health within the AAPI community. Furthermore, there are many more elements beyond beliefs about the mind and body and collectivism that contribute to the invisibility of mental health issues in Asian cultures. The path to healthy treatment of mental illness in AAPI communities is long and winding, but we are making progress. In June of this year, Congresswoman Judy Chu introduced the Stop Mental Health Stigma in Our Communities Act, which would work on improving organizational outreach and education on behavioral and mental health to AAPI communities — coinciding with Asian Pacific American Heritage Month and Mental Health Awareness Month.9
tion Resource Center, August 28 2013. 5 Lin, Keh-Ming and Chung, Freda. “Mental Health Issues for Asian Americans.” Psychiatric Services Vol. 50 No. 6, June 1999. 6 Kramer, Elizabeth J. et al. “Cultural Factors Influencing the Mental Health of Asian Americans.” Western Journal of Medicine 176.4, 2002. 30 Family and Community
Alex is a sophomore studying Media, Culture, and Communication. She watches too much TV for her own good. 7
“neurotypical, n.” OED Online. Oxford UP, n.d.
8
Suicide Prevention Resource Center
9 Constante
REINVENTING TRADITION
By: Shashank Rao
Kannada is a South Indian language, spoken in the state of Karnataka, and is my mother tongue. I create calligraphy in Kannada, because in my freshman year, I began to look at a lot of Arabic and Chinese calligraphy. My professor gave me an assignment to create Kannada-specific artwork, and so these pieces were born. These works mean to bring something new to my community, since a lot of the art coming out of Kannada society largely dwells in the literary world, in a literary form of the language that is difficult to understand without education. I’m trying to create something that brings a little bit of both, incorporating literary themes, but uses single words and phrases to make it more accessible. Bridging that gap is important, and especially in Asian America, since there’s not a lot of exposure to regionally specific art with
respect to India. In both realms, I’m trying to link tradition with a rapidly evolving demographic of young Asian Americans and Indian people. The words I’ve selected are reflection of my artistic and personal heritages, having studied Arabic and Chinese calligraphy, as well as being an Indian person growing up in America. Both of these pieces came out of a difficult period in my life, since I lost my grandfather in September. These pieces are both dedicated to him, with “ಶರತ್ಕಾಲ - Autumn” being the last piece that he ever saw, and said that he liked. I cannot forget the tremendous influence he had on me, passing much of my Kannada heritage on to me. Let this be an homage to my Ajja, who made the first crossing over the generational gap, to bring his heritage to me.
“ರಕ್ತ/家 - Bloodline”
“ಶರತ್ಕಾಲ - Autumn”
Blood runs through the branches of the family tree, the life-force of our ties. Without time and energy, our families will fall apart, and wither. I can’t fail to acknowledge the influence of Chinese calligraphy on my artistic style, so I superimposed the word for “blood” in Kannada (rakta) on to the Chinese character for “family.” This serves to illustrate the close relationship between the investment of effort and family. I chose these two words, “blood” and “family,” having lost my grandfather this September, to reflect the profound effect that his loss had on me.
The withering of leaves is collective inhalation, preparing us for sleep. When we wake, we are reborn, and we start our lives afresh. The reversed strokes are a nod to how life seems to reverse and invert itself during autumn. Green leaves wither to orange, flowers fall to the earth, both sinking into the soil, only to return anew in the spring.
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Instagram: @khushkhati Shashank is a junior in Global Liberal Studies from San Ramon, California.
Reinventing Tradition 31
FILIPINO ROOTS OLD AND
NEW
By: Kate Cabigao “Chair,” the redhead and blonde spat in unison with a smirk followed by a slightly chilling giggle. “It’s pronounced Cher, not Chair.” “Oh, did I say it wrong? I’m pretty sure I said Cher,” I retorted, trying to seem nonchalant. And just like that, all the hope and excitement I had of starting college shattered. For a second, I felt so small and inferior, so ashamed of my Filipino accent. It seemed as if my accent separated me from the other girls. I knew something was missing, perhaps a piece of home. Confident that a tight-knit Filipino community in New York could be my home away from home, I became determined to find one. One day, while catching up with a high school friend in New York, I told her about my struggle to find Filipinos on campus. To my surprise, she knew a couple and invited me to a lunch to meet them. I was missing home so much that I couldn’t wait to finally speak my mother tongue and be understood. It was so refreshing 32 Family and Community
Exploring and hiking in Masungi, a popular Filipino georeserve, with my sister and close friends.
to speak in Tagalog again at the lunch, and hearing the other Filipinos respond with joy and laughter made me feel like I was back in my hometown. I saw a glimpse of home in them. I mentioned in passing, “Guys, parte ba kayo ng Filipino group dito sa school? Meron bang org?” (Guys, is there an official Filipino community at NYU?) One of them responded, “Oo meron, pero hindi sila talagang pinoy na pinoy.” (Yes, there is one, but they are not like the typical traditional Filipino clubs). I was disappointed when my new Filipino friends told me not to join the club, but that did not stop me from wanting to sign up. So, there I was at Club Fest, struggling to find their booth. It took me a while until I spotted Filipino faces in one corner. I dashed towards them and fired off questions in Tagalog: “Is this the Filipino Club? Finally, found you guys! I’ve been looking all over! I miss the Philippines so much! How shall I sign up?” I was waiting for an excited answer in Tagalog but instead encoun-
tered a quick response in English: “Hi, cool! Yes, just sign here, and add your email.” Period. I suddenly felt a rush of disappointment. Why was it so hard to find a heartwarming, homey community?
Must I feel ashamed and embarrassed for pronouncing words in a Filipino accent? When I told a close Filipino friend about my frustrations, she pointed out that I had a thick Filipino accent: “Kate, you have a pretty strong Filipino accent for an international school student, but it’s also American in some ways. It’s very ISM-y.” “ISM-y” was a reference to my international school background. For a second, all I could think was “wow.” The bold comment deepened my frustration – must I feel ashamed and embarrassed for pronouncing words in a Filipino accent? When I was back in the Philippines over the summer, I met up with a friend who lives and works in Manila. She joked to me about her co-worker, who had a very thick Filipino accent and spoke terrible English in front of a client. “I mean, this co-worker switches the ‘P’s with ‘F’s,” she laughed. “He can’t even formulate grammatically correct sentences. The client ended up asking me for more information and referrals.” It may have been hilarious to my friend at that moment, but it bothered me. Since when does a non-Western accent imply stupidity and inferiority?
massive outward movement, done from desperation, was particularly concentrated in California.2 There, you will find many Filipinos with strong American accents, who have established roots and bought into the American Dream and ideas of Western superiority over native Filipinos. Additionally, the Spanish invasion, World War II, the Japanese occupation, the influx of Chinese immigrants, and American cultural influences have all left a permanent mark in the country up until today.3 Born in the Philippines, 22-year old NYU student Isabel Wilson expresses her curiosity and genuine interest for local Filipino culture: “I feel like I never got to know the soul of my country. When I was younger, I was given glimpses of Filipino life. I learned about the Mangyans, the T’Boli people, the way agriculture was a way of life. The cultural richness is something I wish I had more knowledge of.” Unlike Isabel, most Filipino Americans were born and raised in America. History and mass migration movements made them who they are today. Perhaps many Filipino Americans are detached from their Filipino roots not because they are uninterested or ashamed, but because they do not have the information and resources to learn more about their native culture and heritage. If they were born and raised abroad, they may naturally identify as more American or Chinese or Japanese or Spanish. However, I personally regard knowing and embracing my Filipino roots as a crucial part of my identity that I hope to share with others.
Since when does a non-Western accent imply stupidity and inferiority? I pronounce the word YouTube as “Youchube” and .edu as “dot edo”, which of course became a joke to friends and even my sister. As funny as this may seem, the reactions also show that the American accent is often deemed the superior or “normal” accent. The worst question I’ve been asked was from a friend’s brother back in the Philippines during Christmas break: “Why do you still speak and act so Filipino after studying and living in New York?” That threw me off and to this day, I wonder what in the world that means and implies about me. All these experiences made me realize that a lot of Filipinos, especially those who look up to and romanticize Americans, do not see the important difference between mispronunciation and a non-Western accent. The stigma and sense of local detachment that some Filipinos internalize may stem from the first Filipino immigrants who arrived to Hawaii and settled all over America.1 This 1 Lee, Erika. “The Making of Asian America: A History.” Simon & Schuster, 2016. READ OUR BLOG
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2
Ibid.
3 Borlaza, Gordon C. “The Period of U.S. Influence.” Encyclopedia Britannica, 2017. Filipino Roots, Old and New 33
In their eyes, I was the “other,” the international student who spoke more “American” English than they did. On the other hand, a part of me feels like I may not have fully embraced my localness. In my internship back home this summer, the work culture was deeply Filipino and local. As the only Filipino with an international background, I had difficulty relating to and understanding my local peers. I was lost in the conversations, and the jokes casually thrown around seemed almost insulting, even if they were not meant to be. A coworker of mine once touched the back of my hand and exclaimed, “Oh my gosh, kamay ng mayaman, guys!” (Oh my gosh, the hands of a rich man, guys!) He announced to everyone that my hands had never been touched real work; he may have been trying to be funny, or ease the work pressure in the office, but it was still somehow offensive. I felt awkward, and the local Filipino disconnect made me feel lost once again. In the office, I felt like an outsider: in their eyes, I was the “other,” the international student who spoke more “American” English than they did. These moments made me question where to place myself. What is my true identity? Do I have a right to call myself a full-fledged Filipino who embraces her roots entirely? Or am I being a hypocrite? These questions filled my mind all summer. I had never felt so confused and contradictory.
Do I have a right to call myself a fullfledged Filipino who embraces her roots entirely? As I pondered these questions in many conversations and internal reflection, I realized that to me, being Filipino is less about ancestry or origin, and more about accepting and resonating with the culture. Identities are complex, and we are always coming into a greater knowledge of them. We are always learning more about ourselves. The people we encounter and the places we visit shape our character, changing our ways of thinking and being, allowing us to become our own distinct individuals. Kate is a sophomore majoring in Education Studies. She enjoys blogging, counseling, and developing curriculums.
34 Family and Community
This photo was taken in Tagaytay, Philippines. I usually go here with family and friends to dine, bond, and appreciate the local scenery.
2 OF SPADES
By: Zoya To “2 of Spades� represents an iconic version of the classic playing card. She is duality in nature, both intensity and restraint depicted in dynamic movement in the background and in the subdued tones of the fauna surrounding her.
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Zoya is a junior in Gallatin studying Visual Art and Anthropology. She enjoys eating cereal on the weekends.
2 of Spades 35
TRACING
CROSSOVERS: MIGRATION AND MULTICULTURAL ASIANS By: Natalie Chinn In America, people of color often possess a sense of duality to their identity. They’re always Something-American, also known as hyphenated Americans. In my case, I’m Chinese American, and like other Asian Americans, every day is a balancing game between my ethnic background and American one. This has always been prevalent in Asian Americans’ lives; immigrant families have had to adapt to Western culture, adopting new traditions and ways of life along the way. However, whether we’re first- or fifth-generation, we all hold on to bits and pieces of our heritage. This concept of having a dual cultural identity is becoming increasingly relevant as identity politics rise in national conversation. We constantly discuss multiculturalism in America and the immigrant experience in navigating two drastically different cultures, but we often forget about those with the same struggles outside of America. War, corruption, and poverty force many Asian families to leave their homes in search of a brighter future. Many find new homes in neighboring Asian countries, where they are faced with a new set of culture and traditions. My own family history illustrates the quirks and complexities of immigration. The family on my mother’s side fled southern China to the Philippines three generations ago to escape corruption. My grandmother’s family found a Chinese community in Manila to call home, while my grandfather’s family assimilated into the Filipino countryside. Both of my maternal grandparents were second-generation Chinese-Filipinos. However, this is where the similarities of their upbringings end. My grandfather, Luis, grew up surrounded by Filipino culture. His family embraced their new home, learned Tagalog, and seamlessly integrated with Filipino society. They found a happy balance between the two cultures and valued their Chinese traditions, both practicing at home and observing in occasional trips to China. However, Luis wasn’t fortunate 36 Family and Community
America marked their third nation of identity, and to it they brought their Chinese and Filipino cultures. enough to attend a Chinese school, so he could not write Chinese but was literate in Tagalog. On the other hand, my grandmother—Pacita— lived in Manila’s Chinatown and was only exposed to Chinese culture. Her family could afford to send their children to a private Chinese school. Pacita seldom wandered beyond the boundaries of Chinatown, and her main connection to Filipino culture was through her maids and caretakers. In their early adulthood, Luis and Pacita immigrated to the United States, where they raised my mother and her siblings. America marked their third nation of identity, and to it they brought their Chinese and Filipino cultures. “Home cooked Filipino food, dancing, and laughter is what I remember most about our gatherings with my parents’ friends from Manila,” my mother told me fondly. “Growing up, it gave me a sense of identity. I was always proud that I was Chinese from the Philippines.”
Growing up, it gave me a sense of identity. I was always proud that I was Chinese from the Philippines.
While her family’s connection to Filipino culture was most apparent in social settings, their home life mostly consisted of following Chinese customs. Even to this day, my grandmother always hosts family gatherings on every major holiday, such as Mid-Autumn Festival and Chinese New Year. When we were younger, my three brothers and I loved receiving traditional Chinese red envelopes on the New Year from our grandparents, and I’d always take them to school to show my friends. Although the different cultures of China, the Philippines, and America fused together to shape my mother’s identity, other children of immigrants have had drastically different experiences. Fiona Yeung, my mother’s close friend, was born to Korean immigrants in the province of Jinlin, China. Her parents moved to China during the Korean War and completely assimilated into Chinese culture, leaving behind the Korean language and traditions. Growing up, Fiona’s friends didn’t even know she was Korean. Her first language was Chinese and she followed all the local customs and holidays; there was no outward indication of her Korean ethnicity. Despite strongly identifying as Chinese, Fiona’s family do pay homage to a few Korean traditions. “The most important Korean tradition that we kept was making and eating kimchi,” she said. “When I was little, I remember, we bought fifty pounds of radish and we made special kimchi in the winter. We made so much that it lasted six months.” Fiona’s background could be described as the complete opposite of Pacita’s. While Fiona’s family fully embraced the culture and language of their new country, Pacita’s family did not assimilate and chose to strictly observe Chinese traditions. The experiences of these women show two drastically different potential outcomes of how immigrant families choose to live in a new country and shape their cultural identities. To this day, Fiona deeply identifies as Chinese. She married a Chinese man, and her children have little connection with Korea. However, this doesn’t stop their interest in exploring their heritage. “My second son Joseph’s favorite things to do are to watch Korean dramas and listen to Korean pop music,” she noted. “He can read and talk way more Korean than I can. I only know Korean terms and techniques in Tae Kwon Do.” Just as Joseph grasps onto these threads of his mother’s connection to Korea, I too find myself looking for ways to bond with the places I have come from. Taking Mandarin Chinese for the past eight years has helped fill part of the void I feel between me and my Chinese READ OUR BLOG
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Luis and his family in the Philippines
heritage, but I’m still constantly searching for the tools to bridge this gap. My connection to Filipino culture is like the cherry on top of being Chinese-American. For my siblings and I, anything Filipino-related is a treat. In Hawaii, we’ll drive out of our way to find shaved ice stands selling halo halo, and at our family Christmas party, we always swarm to the lumpia. Filipino food is not only a favorite among us, but is also a way to bond with our grandparents, whom we can often feel distant from. Although my tri-cultural experience is a watered-down version of my mother’s, my pride is just as strong. I love telling people about my unique background and the sacrifices my grandparents made to come to America. I have yet to meet someone quite like me, whose family has collected cultures over time in the same way. The stories of my grandparents, of Fiona’s family, are the stories of multicultural lives. They are the extraordinary results of immigration and contrasting cultures, all of which they’ve brought to America. By holding on to their roots, to what binds their identity, people like my grandparents and Fiona have contributed to the complex intertwinement of cultures in America.
Natalie Chinn is a Sophomore in Liberal Studies. She is from Seattle, Washington. Tracing Crossovers: Migration and Multicultural Asians 37
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Stretching the Color Spectrum: Innisfree USA Launches Largest K-Beauty Foundation Shade Range Ever by maggiemeng
NOVEMBER 17, 2017 When I found out that Innisfree USA revamped their Aqua Fit Cushion and Matte Full Cover Cushion ranges to form a total of 14 shades I was beyond excited. It meant that the K-beauty industry might finally be recognizing the importance of skin tone inclusion and facing the reality that skin comes in more than two shades. Ultimately, this upgrade will expand Innisfree’s customer market by abolishing the pre-conceived notions of pale beauty. Even as a relatively pale individual, I found it hard to match the original shades to my skin tone. Now think about the individuals who fall further from the ideal Korean skin shade, and how they’ve been completely excluded from enjoying the Korean beauty trends. Now to see how the product lived up to its hype, here’s the rundown:
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88Rising : The Label Behind Rich Chigga, The Higher Brothers and more by gracechengnyu OCTOBER 24, 2017
Over the months, 88Rising has gotten more and more spotlight—not only for curating incredible music, but also for giving Asian artists some of the attention they deserve. From there, things have only gone up. 88Rising partnered with The Higher Brothers, a Chengdu based rap group who is breaking barriers in a musical and physical way. Because they don’t have direct access to YouTube in China, they have to work extra hard to interact with their fans, but they do it because it’s all worth it. They have a true appreciation for rap culture that transcends geography and language; for their fans it’s about the flow, the delivery, and the charisma.
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Your Favorite Chinatown May Not Be What You Think It Is by kwokhuenliu
NOVEMBER 7, 2017 I have to admit myself that I have only really started to think about these questions a couple of weeks ago when I was reviewing the readings for one of my classes. One reading in particular caught my eye–I learned about the 19th/20th century construction of Vancouver’s Chinatown. Anderson notes in the text that “Chinatown” was an idea “constructed and distributed by and for Europeans” to “[affirm] their own identity and privilege”. In an era where Chinese immigrants were heavily discriminated, the neighborhoods they occupied were often thought of as a hotspot for crime, drugs, and prostitution.
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The Team Blog Editor: Alison Cheng Senior - Early Childhood and Special Education Deputy Blog Editor: Grace Cheng Junior - Media, Culture and Communication
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Contributors: Maggie Meng Freshman - Finance and Global Business Kwok Huen Liu Freshman - Undecided
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