Sum m e r 202 1
T h e
Vol . I I s sue I
Sa m pl er
e d i t o r s Marieska
Lu z a da J.
Fa i t h
Malicdem
c ont r i b u t o r s Maddi chun C h a r lot t e dru m mon d v i n c e k u n aw i c z Sidnee lim k at s u m i s t e r l i ng
I sit here with both not enough to say, and so much to say about the first, first issue of Lunchbox. As an Asian journalist at Emerson, it’s not easy to find a space where I am comfortable enough to showcase my works that largely revolve around my identity as an Asian woman because of this mission to remain “objective” in the newsroom, something that’s impossible for storytellers from marginalized communities. Lunchbox is a platform where objectivity and unbiased reporting are thrown out the window, and where we welcome the vulnerable and truthful experiences of Asian creatives with open arms. ASIA has always been a second home to me, and has always provided a safe space for Asians and Asian-Americans at a predominantly-white institution, and being able to help provide a platform for Asian creatives, writers, designers, and storytellers to showcase their work is indescribable.
Thank you so much to ASIA, its E-Board members, and advisors for being supportive throughout this whole process of making Lunchbox happen. Thank you to our contributors to this issue (writers, designers, and social media team) for making this first issue the best it can be. Thank you to Jo for simply being the best and for being with me on this entire journey--none of this would be possible without you. And lastly, thank you (yes, you!) for picking up this issue! I hope that the stories you read in this first issue leave you with the eagerness to learn more, and the push to keep listening to and supporting the works of Asian creators, both at Emerson and beyond. It starts with us, and continues with you.
- Marieska Luzada
During my leave of absence from Emerson in the fall of 2020, I discovered Gidra, an underground UCLA student-run publication devoted to Asian Americans (a groundbreaking term at the time) and Asians in America. It ran for only five years, first being published in 1969, but in that short amount of time, the newspaper was able to collect contributions from social justice activists, labor union organizers, as well as academics who were at the forefront of compiling the very first Asian American history textbooks. Gidra was driven by Asian students who were passionate about redefining their identity and finding community. With Lunchbox, I hope to allow for Asian and Pacific Islander students at Emerson to rediscover and reconnect with our racial identities. To freely express our experiences being at a predominantly white institution while knowing full well we are entering fields that prioritize white frameworks. To find comfort in being able to share our stories with one another and to take solace in
knowing we are not alone without the pressures of educating our white peers. Thank you to ASIA (Emerson’s Org of the Year but also the Org to which my Heart Belongs), for green-lighting Lunchbox, and for being so welcoming to where I feel comfortable enough pitching a (read: fleeting thought of a) magazine in the first place. Huge cheers to Marieska for being the catalyst of Lunchbox–for granting me with the confidence that this was something that could be done, and something I could do well. Her talent and insight was essential in this process, and I am so grateful to be able to share this editor experience with her. Enjoy the free samples.
- J. Faith Malicdem
A Picky Eater Afraid of Skin Cancer by Maddi Chun
Chicken nuggets, apples, carrots, eggs, yogurt, cheese, soup. These are examples of foods I ate as a child. And while my palette has grown, being a picky eater will forever define my childhood. My hometown has a population of 80,000 people, with the Asian population being less than 2%. So, of course, being half white and half Korean, I was hyper-aware of my Asianness, but I had very little to connect it to. Food is one of the most common ways to share one’s culture. But, I have always felt shame around my Korean identity and my diet. Because I was such a picky eater, I rarely felt connected to my heritage through food. Despite the contents of much lunch being like everyone else’s, my grandparents would always send me Hello Kitty lunchboxes and tupperware. I always loved Hello Kitty, but it was like a dark secret. No one around me had Hello Kitty merchandise, and I was embarrassed. I remember trying to hide the design on my lunchbox by holding the Hello Kitty imagery towards my stomach. (And yes, Hello Kitty trending in mainstream pop culture is incredibly triggering to my inner 4th grade self in the cafeteria.) I don’t eat seafood or fish, so sushi has always been an odd experience for me. Sushi is one of the more common Asian cuisines white people eat. And because what most people tend to know about Asian cultures is food, I found they would diminish my Asianness because I didn’t eat sushi. (Even though sushi is Japanese and I am… Korean.) “How do you not like sushi? You’re Asian.” “I like more Asian food than you.” These were all comments cemented into my brain to make me feel less Asian and disconnect me further from my heritage. I now don’t think my diet or favorite foods define how Asian I am. But there are always new comments used by others to try and define who I am by their standards of what a Korean woman is. This Summer’s has been, “Your skin is whiter than mine.”
da
By
a
Ma n
n a ta n o a ! g
M a ri e sk a
Lu
z
I
n my home, rarely is there a moment where the kitchen lights are off, with the scents of savory chicken adobo and freshly-made torta wafting through the air vents. Food is a central part of Filipino culture, and is truly the main character of every gathering. Food is a way for us to welcome others into our home, both strangers and long-time friends. Some of the most memorable conversations, loudest laughs, and jaw-dropping stories happen over a belly-filling meal shared with loved ones around the table. Many of my fondest memories are associated with food in some way, specifically with the nostalgia and warmth that Pinoy cuisine holds for me. Many of those memories I share with my mother, Marielys Luzada, who holds a special and deep story about being in the kitchen. “Some of my earliest memories with baking were from elementary school with my mother,” she recalled. “On weekends, she would take me with her to the kitchen. She was my first teacher when it came to cooking, especially baking.” Though she has had a passion for cooking and baking ever since she was young, she didn’t realize she didn’t want to do it as a career until halfway through college. “When I graduated high school, I didn’t know what to do,” she said. “My friends were in majors like business management and accounting—I didn’t like any of those. So I went, ‘Why don’t I try this? This is kind of new.’” She went ahead to get a Bach-
elor of Science degree in Hotel and Restaurant Management from the University of the Philippines. My mom also holds a culinary degree from Switzerland and was a former pastry chef for Marriott. She was also the owner of a pastry shop called La Patisserie in our hometown of Cebu, where she supervised and oversaw the making of desserts and pastries. Though she was practically unstoppable after having a stellar culinary career that spanned several decades, she put her career to a halt soon after I was born. However, she couldn’t be away from making delicious baked goods for too long. “When you were in school, I was bored here at home. I did a part-time job at Nordstrom Rack, but I wanted to practice baking again. I think I quite missed it, which is why I went back.” While she doesn’t cook and bake in a setting like a famous international hotel company, or a pastry shop of her own, she does it now as both a pastime and a side-hustle, baking orders for family and friends for their respective events, gatherings, and celebrations. Though Filipino cuisine comprises a multitude of dishes of all taste modalities, what makes each dish special is where those recipes are derived.
“The thing with Filipino culture is that you have family recipes that you don’t share,” my mom explained. “It’s handed down from generation to generation to generation.” For instance, her famous torta de Cebu is a family recipe that she bakes entirely from memory—it’s not written down anywhere. From chefs to food enthusiasts, many Pinoys share a common thought when it comes to the significance of a meal: it acts as its own love language. Sometimes words can be hard to find at the most difficult times, or we can’t seem to vocalize our appreciation for others the way we would like to. Food does that job for us, and it never fails. The standard greeting for most is “Hi, how are you?” For Filipinos, it’s simply, “Have you eaten yet?” It is our way of saying “It’s been a while, let’s catch up over a meal.” One of the things I miss most is my family in the Philippines and the memories we cherish over a scrumptious dinner. I miss the taste of home, and its unique and bountiful flavors that leave you wanting more. This being said, I am happy that my mom has a special relationship with cooking and baking, and is not hesitant of sharing that love with the world. “Mangaon na ta. Its meaning speaks for itself. Let’s celebrate, and let’s enjoy the food.”
M u s t M U S T M U S T m u s t Reads by Asian Authors – by region! – by Charlotte Drummond
WEST ASIAN
An Emotion of G r e a t D e light by Tahareh Mafi (Iranian American) Young
Genre(s): Months
after
adult
the
contemporary
declaration
of
the
Iraq War in 2003 in a post-9/11 world, Shadi, a hijabi high school student, deals with the rapid rise in xenophobia, her crumbling family, understanding in
her a
identity,
seemingly
and
finding
hopeless
hope
situation.
A Woman is No Man by Etaf Rum ( P a l e s t i n i a n ) Genre(s):
Young
adult
contemporary
Following the perspectives of a mother and daughter going through the turmoils of finding love in a conservative family and community, the novel allows teenage Deya to learn about her mother, Isra, who she believed died in a car accident.
A
Woman
(
P
a
is l
No
e
s
Man
by
t
n
Adult
Genre(s):
i
Etaf i
historical
a
Rum n
)
fiction
Set in 1500s Istanbul during the height of the Ottoman Empire, the novel follows the journey of Jahan, a young boy who gets a job as an animal tanner for the sultan but ends up becoming the apprentice for some of the most beautiful buildings in the world.
The Stationery Shop by Marjan Kamali (
I
r
a
n
i
a
n
)
Genre(s): Historical fiction, adult romance In a
the
setting
blossoming
man,
two
of
love
teenagers
1950s
Tehran,
between with
Roya a
love
there and for
is
Bahpo-
etry and literature, who meet in the stationery shop they find comfort before they are separated due to the 1953 Iranian Coup.
CENTRAL ASIAN
And
the
by (
Mountains
Echoed
Khaled A
f
Genre(s):
g
Adult
Hosseini h
a
n
historical
)
fiction
The tale of a brother and sister starts in the small village of Shadbagh, Afghanistan, in the early 1950s but spans generations across many cities and countries as they learn to adapt to a variety of cultures surrounded by the ones they love.
The Devils’ Dance by Hamid Ismailov (
U
Genre(s): A
writer
z
b
Adult named
e
k
historical
Abdulla
Qodiriy
) fiction
is
put
in
jail by Soviet police in the late 1930s and takes
his
time
in
isolation
as
an
oppor-
tunity to mentally write his novel set in 19th century Turkestan based on the tragic life of Oyxon, an Uzbek queen and poet.
The
Pearl
Shell
That
by
Broke
Nadia
(Afghan
Its
Hashimi American)
Adult
Genre(s):
contemporary
A young girl named Rahima must dress like a boy until she can get married to attend school and take care of her younger sisters. The story goes back and forth between Rahima and her ancestor from a century earlier, who also lives as a man after being orphaned.
The
Dead
Desert (
K
Wander
by
a
z
Rollan a
k
Adult
Genre(s):
in
h
s
the
Seisenbayev t
a
n
historical
i
)
fiction
A fisherman elder and his son encounter the hardships of their sea and source of life becoming desert. home
to
poisoned, The
son
seek
drying
Kakharman
help
and
up
into
must
save
his
a
leave
salt his
village.
SOUTH ASIAN
Amal by
Unbound Aisha
Saeed
( P a k i s t a n i ) Genre(s):
Middle
grade
contemporary
Amal, a 12-year-old girl and the eldest daughter of her family, is forced to stay home and take care of her siblings despite her love for school. But after she insults the landlord of her village, she is forced to be one of their servants until she can pay off her debt.
A Crown of Wishes by Roshani Chokshi (inspired Genre(s):
Young
by adult
Hinduism) fantasy,
romance
Gauri, a princess of the fantasy kingdom of Bharata, is captured by the enemies of her family, being threatened with exile. To get out of her doomed fate, she must team up with Prince Vikram to compete in the Tournament of Wishes.
I’m
Afraid
of
Men
by
V i v e k
S h r a y a
(Indian
Canadian) Memoir,
Genre(s):
LGBTQ+
Vivek Shraya talks about the influences of toxic masculinity on children and how its associations fed
into
phobia
A (
she’s
a
Genre(s):
aggressive
misogyny,
Golden B
with
n
behavior
homophobia,
faced
throughout
Age
by
g
l
Adult
a
and
d
e
trans-
her
Tahmima s
historical
h
have life.
Anam i
)
fiction
This story follows Rehana, a single mother and widow who seeks to protect her family during the Bangladeshi War of Independence in the early 1970s.
SOUTHEAST ASIAN
On ly
Earth Gorgeous
We’re by
(Vietnamese
/
namese Genre(s):
Ocean
BriefVuong Viet-
American) Adult
contemporary,
LGBTQ+
A fictional story that reads like a memoir, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, is an honest letter from Little Dog to his mother who can’t read, which shares his family’s rich and complicated history and his coming of age as a gay Vietnamese American.
America is Not the Heart by Elaine Castillo (Filipino / Filipino American)
Genre(s):
Adult
historical
fiction,
LGBTQ+
The history of three generations of Filipina women starts with Hero de Vera, who emigrates from the Philippines to the US after being disowned by her parents and moves in with her uncle in the Bay Area of California.
Black
Water
(
a
M
l
Sister a
y
Adult
Genre(s):
by s
Zen
i
Cho
a
n
fantasy,
)
LGBTQ+
A recent college graduate moves back to Malaysia from the US after being away for two decades. Afraid to let her family know about her
sexuality
and
secret
girlfriend,
Jess
starts hearing the voice of her dead grandmother, who also happens to be a spirit medium for the goddess, the Black Water Sister.
Trick
Mirror:
tions
on
ReflecSelf-Delusion
(Filipino
Canadian) Memoir,
Genre(s):
psychology
Essayist and staff writer for The New Yorker, Tolentino dives into the cultural impacts that have shaped her mindset from the heroine’s ternet, that
journey
to
the
interpreting
centers
around
rise
of
the
in-
our
culture
as
one
our
sense
of
self.
EAST ASIAN
Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner (mixed
Korean
Genre(s):
Memoir,
American) food
(!!)
Zauner, notably known as the lead singer and guitarist of the band Japanese Breakfast, writes about her complex relationship sures
with
their
her
loving
mother
and
memories
treafilled
with food and family while not shying away
from
the
honest
hurt
and
grief.
A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki (Japanese / Japanese American / Japanese Canadian ) Genre(s): Adult contemporary, magical realism The stories of Nao, a teenage Japanese-American girl living in Tokyo, and Ruth, a novelist living in British Columbia, intertwine when Ruth finds a Hello Kitty lunchbox that washes up on the beach after the 2011 tsunami.
If I Had Your Face by Frances Cha (South
Korean)
Genre(s):
Adult
contemporary
Four young women living in Seoul, who all have dreams of escaping their present selves, are and
affected toxic
The or
by
the
high
masculinity
beauty
standards
surrounding
them.
Astonishing of
After
by
Col-
Emily
X.
R.
Pan
(mixed Taiwanese American / Taiwanese) Genre(s): temporary,
Young magical
adult
conrealism
After her mother kills herself, Leigh Chen Sanders visits her grandparents in Taiwan to meet them for the first time. She believes that her mother turned into a red crane, and she hopes to learn more about her unknown family despite her grief.
DECONSTRU
CTION
CRAZY RICH FETISHIS-ASIAN BY SIDNEE LIM
The United States has witnessed an outrageous rise of hate crimes and discrimination towards its East Asian community and Crazy Rich Asians (2018) manages to fly under the radar by being popularly regarded as progressive for its on-screen minority representation. However, a thorough investigation into the film’s disturbing approach to “representation” reveals the film to be a present-day example of Edward Said’s Orientalism concerning the distorted and warped misrepresentation of the “East” (Asia) by the “West” (Western Europe and Northern America). -Crazy Rich Asians is the first Hollywood film since The Joy Luck Club (1993) to feature a majority Asian and Asian-American cast and was the highest-grossing romantic comedy within the last decade at its time of release.1 Naturally, it’s considered to be an immense success. Seeing my home on screen and recognising these people as my own (besides the fact they are stupid rich), I left the movie theatre radiat1 Rodriguez, Ashley. “‘Crazy Rich Asians’ Is the Top-Grossing Romantic Comedy in 10 Years.” Quartz, Quartz, 1 Oct. 2018, qz.com/1408252/crazy-rich-asiansis-now-the-top-grossing-rom-com-in-10-years/.
ing with pride and joy, but I had a nagging feeling that never quite left that something was off. The movie felt… empty. Three years and 30 pages later, as I feel that the extravagant opulence present in the film should have alerted me to earlier, the reason was the film’s overwhelming fetishisation. -Inspired by Marx and Said, fetishisation can be defined as: the intention to hide and distort to present a subjective and palatable illusion.2 3 In every sense of the definition, the film aligns itself with fetishisation, as explicitly exemplified when Singapore is introduced through a montage with sweeping pans into the skyline featuring sparkling skyscrapers and tourist attractions. All the panning shots and close ups flaunting the city’s wealth and beauty are always followed with response shots from Rachel, where she’s grinning in awe. The group’s visit to a hawker center, the famous Michelin Star tourist trap hawker 2 Marx, Karl. Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, Volume One. New York: Vintage Books, 1977. 3 Said, Edward W. Orientalism. New York: Pantheon Books, 1978.
center no less, is framed to be so obviously distinct and exotic, with ordering unique foods in Chinese and Malay and local practices of buying and placing tissue paper packets on tables to reserve their seats. The montage ends with a heartwarming scene of the group bonding over the food, as if it were some magical property of these strange delicacies to invoke happiness.4 This is quite the designer carpet to sweep the truth under, so let’s pull it back and understand its consequences. -The technical elements of the montage itself and its Kuleshov editing style contributes to the very fetishising nature of the film. Together, they work to imply visibility, because while all we really catch are fast snippets of the city and its people, the quick cuts and editing style that creates meaning with two consecutive shots don’t allow the audience an opportunity to disassemble the illusion and encourages them to settle for an impression of visibility, instead of Singapore’s concerning income inequality. With the audience mesmerised by Singapore’s token displays of wealth and power, it glosses over how the in4 Chu, Jon M., director. Crazy Rich Asians. Warner Bros. Pictures, 2018.
come gap of the average monthly household income has increased from around SGD$9,300
to SGD$12,800 in
the past decade.5 The film also twists the long hours of arduous labour of the hawkers and tissue vendors for an unreliable income into a facade of “cool and unique” local experiences. To say the film fails to capture reality would be inaccurate as failure implies an attempt, whereas Crazy Rich Asians completely dodges the subject and presents a false but more appealing narrative that sits well with the audience, similar to its happy ending that perseveres despite all the challenges. On that note, as “overwhelmingly Asian” this film is, there are familiar grounds for a Western audience to retreat back to if it’s all too strange, such as Rachel’s offhand grimace that one of the foods in the hawker center “looks vomitty” or that most Asian characters in the film have noticeable British or American accents. In the end, the film still washes Singapore with a film of Whiteness to make it ultimately palatable for Western consumption. 5 Key Household Income Trends, 2020. Department of Statistics, Ministry of Trade & Industry, Republic of Singapore, 8 Feb. 2021, https://www.singstat.gov. sg/-/media/files/publications/households/pp-s27.pdf.
-This fetishisation is nothing new, informed by a history of racism. In their articles, • Anne Anlin Cheng summarises that EastAsian bodies have always been defined by their ornament,objectified, flesh replaced by the aesthetic.6 • Jane Hu adds that prompted by the rising global power of China, orientalism has evolved for East-Asian bodies to be a canvas for power to be exercised, and to continue affirming the superiority of the West as an authentic organic body, through current popular culture like Crazy Rich Asians.7 There is no West without the Orient, no real without the fake, just as Said positioned decades ago. However, what’s interesting is the added layer of reorientalism and respectability politics; there was an Asian crew and team 6 Cheng, Anne Anlin. “Ornamentalism: A Feminist Theory for the Yellow Woman.” Critical Inquiry, vol. 44, no. 3, 2018, pp. 415-446. The University of Chicago Press, https://doi.org/10.1086/696921. 7 Hu, Jane. “Orientalism, Redux.” Victorian Studies, vol. 62, no. 3, 2020, pp. 460–473. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/ stable/10.2979/victorianstudies.62.3.07.
behind this. • Reorientalism, coined by Lisa Lau, is Orientalism ironically being enforced by the diasporic Orient by dominating and once again consigning the Oriental within the Orient to a position of “The Other.”8 • This coincided with Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham’s concept of respectability politics, where even though there is no ill intent, in order to gain the respect of the dominant social group and make themselves heard, they essentially adjust how their own people is perceived, and that includes making themselves “recognisably Asian” and generalising and totalising their own race.9 When the film makes the characters recognisably Asian, they rely on age-old Western stereotypes of what Asia is, and trick audiences into believing they are witnessing representa8 Lau, Lisa. “Re-Orientalism: The Perpetration and Development of Orientalism by Orientals.” Modern Asian Studies, vol. 43, no. 2, 2009, pp. 571–590. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/20488093. 9 Higginbotham, Evelyn Brooks. Righteous Discontent. [Electronic Resource] : The Women’s Movement in the Black Baptist Church, 1880-1920. Harvard University Press, 1993. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost. com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=cat05467a&AN=ecl.931805&site=eds-live.
tion and are oblivious to the curtain of illusion and the truth behind it. One such stereotype is that Asia = China. 15% of Singaporeans are Malay and 7.5% percent are Indian but the film fails to feature any Malays featured, the Sikhs and Indians are relegated to door-openers and ‘scary brown men’ stereotypes of bodyguards, and the South-East Asian immigrants are just docile maids.10 Even the Chinese Singaporeans themselves are confused with China when the film opens with a quote about China and blending all the different sub-Chinese cultures together into one indiscernible mass of Asian bodies that negate the actual diversity of the cast. Singapore has a messy history of relying on race to separate and affirm the Chinese’ superiority (an unfortunate piece of post-colonial baggage) and the combination of either a complete absence or stereotypes assigning them to a lower class and income in a film all about representation and rich people just further supports such a racist agenda. -With such fetishisation manifesting itself in the 10 Population in Brief 2020, Strategy Group, Prime Minister’s Office, Republic of Singapore, Sept. 2020. www.strategygroup.gov.sg/files/media-centre/publications/population-in-brief-2020.pdf.
film and its consequences in real life, a dilemma arises: do we wait until we can actually get proper representation on screen in fear of the consequences of fetishisation, or do we take this and all of its flaws just for a chance to see ourselves on screen and hope it will become an instrument for future progress by sparking discussions on how to move forward towards proper representation?
Video essayist Rowan Ellis narrows the complexity of this conversation down to the fact that we just don’t know if boycotting these movies will prompt the industry to stop financing minorities on screen or make them learn from their mistakes, and vice versa, if supporting these movies will make them continue their mistakes since it seems to reap financial success or make them even more motivated to do better.11 Furthermore, Ellis notes this discussion is not concerned with the minority it “represents,” but is intended to figure out how best to present a pretty package for the people in power to consume.12 Why should we be made to choose 11 Ellis, Rowan. “Bad LGBT Representation VS No LGBT Representation” YouTube, uploaded by Rowan Ellis, 29 May 2017, https://youtu.be/Ex7MK9hRejc 12 Ellis, Rowan. “Can You Be Too Gay? | Respectability Politics” YouTube, uploaded by Rowan Ellis, 14 Apr 2017, https://youtu.be/JM7RvwAwXSs
between “bad” or “none,” and not even for our own benefit? We need to keep this bigger picture in mind and not let that distract ourselves from ultimately deconstructing such a system. -Nevertheless, it is unfair to disregard the fact that the film has been subject to the staggeringly overwhelming responsibility of the politics of representation and thus, more stringent standards of criticism. Just like White Hollywood and their never-ending shallow fluffy rom-coms, the film should be allowed to fail and, most importantly, try again, because there’s work to be done. We simply cannot let it exist as a fetishised and fetishising ornament or to retreat and settle for a lack of representation entirely. We must subject fetishisation to scholarly critique, in hopes that one day in the future, we might be able to watch a film with proper representation, whose name relies on less ornamentalist adjectives and more ethnic-specific nouns. *Answers to crosswords can be found in text highlighted in green*
REVIEW CROSSWORD : CRAZY RICH FETISHIS-ASIAN
1
2
3
4
5 Across: 3. To become “recognizably Asian.” _________ politics. 4. This term is defined as Orientalism ironically being enforced by the diasporic Orient by dominating and once again consigning the Oriental within the Orient to a position of “The Other.” 5. The intention to hide and distort to present a subjective and palatable illusion Down: 1. A White Hollywood-classified rom-com (3 words) 2. Orientalism positions Asians as outsiders, also known as _____
I
n the 1970s, the band Fanny achieved many firsts. They were the first all-women rock group in American music to release an album on a major label and the first with a Top-40 hit. And there is a particularly groundbreaking detail that stands out even more: they were fronted by two Filipina-Americans. In the white male-dominated American rock music world of the 1970s, sisters June and Jean Millington stand out. Daughters of a Filipina woman and a white lieutenant commander serving in the United States Navy, the two were born in The Philippines’ capital city of Manila in the late 1940s. They lived there until the early 1960s, when the family moved to California. June Millington recalls, “My dad didn’t like the Filipino culture. He used to say ’Filipinos are so duplicitous.’ Did I really need to hear that?” Millington also remarks that, upon entering school in California, the other students “figured we were Mexicans. Which they thought was bad.” She also mentions, “I didn’t feel like I was attractive, because being Filipina-American, racism is the first ‘ism’ that hit us pretty hard.” The sisters attained an escape from the discrimination in the creation of a musical group called The Svelts, which they founded in the mid-1960s with Brie Darling, another daughter of a Filipina mother and white American father. The Millington sisters fell in love with playing music and were determined to prove that they, Asian-American women, could be serious musicians too. “We didn’t know anybody else who was doing it. There was no reference point; we actually had to create the frame of reference,” Millington comments. In the late 1960s, they formed Fanny. The original lineup involved June on vocals and guitar, Jean on vocals
and bass, Nickey Barclay on keyboards, and Alice de Buhr on drums. Fanny made it clear they knew how to rock and that their talent was worthy of support from big names. Yet, despite how well they had proven themselves, in telling her story, June Millington cites how backhanded many of the compliments felt. It seemed as if “you guys were pretty good” always had to be followed by “for girls” or “for chicks.” Millington also began to feel extreme pressure as the woman essentially leading the band. She says, “I could never have an off night, even if I felt sick. I had to play at my best.” At some point, it had become too much for June Millington to deal with, and she left the band in 1973. By 1975, Fanny had disbanded, but the Millington sisters continued their musical pursuits. In the late 1970’s, June Millington also came out as a lesbian, helping tear down yet another barrier in rock music. Driven by a desire to assist other women looking to become musicians (and supposedly spurred on by inspiration from activist and professor Angela Davis), Millington and her partner, Ann Hackler, went on to create the Institute for Musical Arts (IMA), a rock camp for teen girls now located in Goshen, Massachusetts. In 2015, June Millington published her autobiography, Land of a Thousand Bridges: Island Girl in a Rock and Roll World. The Millington sisters and The Svelts’ Brie Darling also reunited to record a new album, 2018’s Fanny Walked the Earth, featuring guest appearances from former members of Fanny, as well as members of other all-women rock groups The
Go-Go’s, The Bangles, and The Runaways. A 2021 documentary exploring the band’s history and legacy, entitled Fanny: The Right to Rock, has also been released digitally. It’s hard for me to say with total certainty who or what is to blame for the fact that Fanny is largely unknown today. Of course, while they did have some success, they didn’t achieve the breakthrough that many of their contemporaries did, explaining a part of that issue. Perhaps the US was just not sure of what to make of women, two of which were Asian, participating in a world they were never expected to. Like June Millington said, there was no reference point. And a part of me does want to say that perhaps the reason that their rediscovery is only beginning is that maybe they really were just too ahead of their time. Now that American culture has finally made its first steps towards taking Asian-American pop-music artists seriously (a highly debatable point), perhaps it explains another part of why Fanny’s legacy is only now getting the recognition it deserves. As a straight man, the cultural hegemony of rock music has essentially always been directed towards and determined by people like myself. Of course, I understand that there is irony in me writing this very article highlighting Fanny (“Hey! Bet you never heard of these women!”). But I write this piece not to be a definitive voice, just one trying to think through this story and possibly put a few pieces of the puzzle together. My hope, of course, is that we won’t have to live in a world where there is just one underappreciated example of Asian-American women and members
“Perhaps the US was just not sure of what to make of women, two of which were Asian, participating in a world they were never expected to. Like June Millington said, there was no reference point.” of the LGBTQ+ community making a name for themselves in the world of music. And there is promise in a landscape that has offered Asian-American women like Mitski, Michelle Zauner, Hayley Kiyoko, and Olivia Rodrigo (who has the biggest song of 2021) some success and recognition. I might be naive in having that hope, but having an aspiration allows us to start somewhere. And knowing that, against all odds, the women of Fanny rocked and still rock the f--k out helps fuel that hope.
the color of mourning by aiya as she grew up they told her that white was a funeral color a somber affair broken by the presence of luck in a basket of red envelopes maybe because they never got along her rough knees stained with mud, grass, fun she took it to heart when someone gave her paper and demanded she learn she didn’t buy it until they showed her how to craft squiggles into letters meanings to lines those pages? not enough they were a sole voice a slim volume on the library topmost shelf, stuck filed under new voices strange terms italicized by graduation she understood
outnumbered
if she said every thought it wouldn’t be enough white was control “authority” the final plug white was in everything it filled her eyes made her blind to her own reflection all the ink she’d contributed, forgotten by the end of this line when her children were born white was a barrier a foe revived in forms, fine print, ties her children didn’t realize they lived and learned as she had the rules of tradition and art supplies their world was for creating seeing, painting merging colors she heard her echo in her children and remembered that white was a funeral color not grand design
Why Did It Take so Long For You to Listen? By
J.
Faith
Malicdem
*Trigger Warning and Reader’s Discretionary Note: Discussion of anti-Asian hate, violence, suicide, racism, and sexism*
In journalism class over Zoom, my professor went on about the state of news today, addressing an anti-Asian hate-related news package one of my classmates had pieced together. “Just before class this morning, the Internet was plastered with headlines about a Filipino woman in New York…” I zoned out as if my brain had grown accustomed to blocking out harmful information. But still, I shut my camera off and turned down my volume as my face grew hot, tears pooling in my eyes. Since the rise in anti-Asian hate crimes earlier this year, I’ve felt myself endure the pressures of addressing the sociopolitical implications of the #StopAAPIHate movement, as well as my own experiences as an Asian American. It felt as though people were finally paying attention and like I needed to cater to audiences now that my voice was actually being considered, despite the years of hard work I had poured into my work. With every passing day, a new frightening occurrence would overtake the news, and my rise in followers and retweets would parallel said tragedies. Why did it take this for people to finally listen to me and other Asian folks?
Growing up, instilling the standards of white approval against my intrinsic Filipino identity and Asian appearance to combat my lack of whiteness was a habit I, like many other Asians raised in America, felt forced into. It was a survival tactic. It was instilled at the cost of denouncing other people who looked like me. It was a practice my first-generation mother and second-generation father adapted to at the cost of failing to practice Tagalog in our household and avoiding passing on family recipes in order to please the Americanized palette my siblings and I had taken on. Bagel bites smelled a lot less intimidating than dinuguan. Once I got to college, the importance of my heritage and culture made itself apparent when I realized that I felt more at home with friends who understood the damaging trek to becoming white. It made my blood boil. Suddenly my trajectory in life would change because I found a new passion that involved directly combatting the white standards that made myself and other Black, Indigenous, and People of Color feel like we are less welcome, less worthy, and less human.
I soon felt more drawn than ever to executing projects that would involve deeply personal aspects of my identity. I would constantly dissect emotionally taxing experiences of my own. I had opened up about yellow fever and the queer experience as an Asian feminine-presenting person on live radio. I had revealed that my passion for writing and the startup of my online publication were born out of the literal silencing of my voice–writing was, and still is, a tactic of communication and survival. Even when I distanced myself from my projects, I would still take on ones that revealed systemic racism and sexism in garment factories overseas or the recurring workplace prejudices against women and other gender minorities in STEM fields. As if the research and preparation that went into these projects weren’t already emotionally draining enough, I contributed a thorough academic analysis of Orientalism and the Yellow Peril as foundations for anti-Asian sentiments for Overachiever Magazine’s first Asian American History issue. And of course, ironically, I’m writing this article—very meta. If I weren’t taking advantage of my ability to publish the work aforementioned, then the opportunity to spread awareness and knowledge would be going to waste. Or at least that’s what I’d tell myself.
* d e e p breath*
Is this how it’s going to be from now on? People will only listen to me and accredit me when there is a tragedy at hand? Am I only going to be received well when I put myself in a vulnerable position to educate or call out someone? Why are they just now paying attention? Why now, when this has been happening for centuries?
While I do recognize that being able to execute such projects, having a platform to share the voices of others, as well as bringing light to the varying injustices specifically endured by AAPI, I hope there is a day when I am not pressuring myself to flesh out personal experiences to catch the attention of those who would not otherwise pay mind to me at all, whether it be my actual writing or my existence alone. It is not my responsibility, nor the responsibility of BIPOC in general, to educate and keep others in check. Black, Indigenous, and People of Color in all fields, whether it be STEM, the creative realm, or what have you, have been doing so much to further their crafts and passions for themselves–not for the sake of white people.
––––––––––– Iris Chang, a Chinese-American journalist, political activist, and author, and Ronald Takaki, a Japanese-American academic, historian, and ethnographer, both dedicated their lives to addressing and recounting racism and violence experienced by their families, communities, and Asian people all over the world that had been suppressed from the public’s eye for so long. Both of them are highly regarded as influential trailblazers, and their work is still widely used today in academia. Both of them took their own lives. The stakes, the pressures, and the responsibilities people of color feel the need to adhere to are traumatizing. Yes, the work they produce is beneficial to many, as it furthers discussions, literature, and self-discovery for other Asian people, but why must it be at the cost of their own well-being?
Do n o t cherry-pick our labor.
Do
not
use us as your proof of allyship.
Do
not
assume that our sole purpose is to liberate ourselves and our communities.
Do
not
tokenize us as your personal crutch whenever you mess up and need help figuring out how to come off as someone who isn’t racist. The entirety of our existence does n o t amount to the racism, prejudice, and xenophobia we have been subjected to. BIPOC do work (and have been doing work) that exists outside of our racial and ethnic identities. We deserve credit, attention, and love whether or not our work has any sort of educational value pertaining to said identities. If you’re going to support BIPOC, uplift us in everything we do–not just when we serve any benefit to you.
T h e
Sa m pl er