an APAC publication Spring 2010 Issue 6, Vol. 2
asian america’s
invisible
population
What’s challenging the asian american lgbt community
Inside: NU’s newest celebrity • Healthcare and Asian Americans• Your new favorite recipe
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editor’s note I’d like to thank my mother for teaching me how to be aggressive. To be shy is one thing. But to be a shy Asian American woman somehow makes one more vulnerable to being pushed around or ignored, I learned. An Asian American professor echoed a similar sentiment to me. In my last meeting with her, she advised me to assert myself if I wanted to move forward professionally. If I didn’t speak up, no one would notice-- largely because many people do not expect Asian Americans to speak up in the first place. Asian Americans are often perceived as quiet, nerdy, even passive. This issue of NU Asian strives to prove that perception wrong. Our cover story explores the growing visibility-and associated challenges-- of the Asian American LGBT community(p. 14). Inside you’ll also read why NU alumnus Phil Yu calls himself an “Angry Asian Man” (p. 4), why NU sophomore Nikkitasha Marwaha may be India’s next big star (p. 6 ) and why one writer has difficulty answering the question, “What is an Asian?” (p. 20). Like any community, Asian Americans embody a diverse set of interests, personalities and skills. Yes, we are students and doctors and engineers. But it should be no surprise that we are also athletes and entertainers and activists. Students on campus are breaking the Model Minority Myth in various ways. Every spring quarter you’ll find a plethora of events organized by cultural student groups that showcase an array of talents-- I encourage you to attend! As always, thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts. Enjoy!
Sincerely,
Nathalie Tadena, Editor-in-Chief
Have something to say? Let NU Asian know! We want to hear from you. Reach us at nuasianeditor@gmail.com
an APAC publication Volume 6 - Issue 2 - Spring 2010 Funded by the Student Activities Finance Board Magazine Staff 2009 - 2010 Editor-in-Chief Nathalie Tadena Managing Editor Alanna Autler Business Director Melissa Lu Creative Director Katie Park Art Director Emily Chow Outreach Editor Nancy Lee Staff Writers Annie Chang Corinne Chin Nicole Hong Ashley Kim Julie Ma Katherine Zhu Contributing Writers Pavan Krishnamurthy M.D. Monzon Design Christina Chintanaphol Erin Kim Brittney Wong Katherine Zhu Special Thanks to Tedd Vanadilok and Asian/ Asian American Student Affairs.
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• inside • 4
• The man behind “Angry Asian Man”
5 • Artist profile: Priscilla Ahn 6 • Reality? Check: An NU sophomore on TV 8 • Being CaucASIAN at NU 10 • The story behind multiethnic adoption
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Hidden in the fold Gay Asian-Americans struggle for visibility
12 • Far from home: Chicago’s immigrant resources 18 • Healthcare and the Asian American community 19 • Guest column: You are not a bubble 22 • Soapbox: Changing the Asian American community 23 • Comfort food: Traditional Chinese dumplings
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Angry Asian Man Meet the man behind the site
by Julie Ma
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Photo courtesy of Philip Yu
hree quick facts about Philip Yu: He’s chill. He’s Korean-American. He has a secret identity known as the “Angry Asian Man.” He is almost Internet blogging royalty among Asian Americans, who gained a huge following for his passionate and humorous posts on Asian American issues, identity, news, politics, and entertainment. He may seem to be on an Asian- American rampage online, but the 31-year-old Northwestern RTVF alum from California is not literally angry. “The reason why I chose the name was because the idea of “angry, Asian, anything” was kind of a contradiction to a lot of people. People usually don’t see Asians in America as the ones who are going to be loud, controversial, raise a statement. We’re the passive, ones who get good grades, don’t get mad even in situations when it’d be in our right to do so. The name is confrontational, scary, foreign to other people—foreign, a little in your face about that. It’s funny because “Angry Asian Man” is definitely a persona—cause frankly, I’m actually not angry. I’m easy-going, chill, and not all that confrontational at all. I think I’m a pretty civil guy. That’s kind of weird, I guess, because some people seem to be disappointed when they meet me in person,” said Yu. The Yu in real-life started the blog as a place to write about his interests—as an RTVF major, the media, and Asian-Americans in the media became a key issue. The blog was initially friends or acquaintances, but Yu is still stunned to the success of the blog after nine years. “I never really anticipated an audience, as the Internet itself has changed, it’s given me a lot of opportunities to meet people and talk to other people, connect in ways that I never anticipated. It kind of basically is the same thing I did when it began…just writing in a genuine, funny, and entertaining voice. I stay true to my personality and my thoughts about. Hopefully people find that interesting and attractive and keeps them coming back,” said Yu. Though Yu is a self-proclaimed “civil guy,” his dedication to the site is not without purpose. He does feel “anger” and is passionate about creating a voice for Asian Americans. “There are [eople who think that Asians have nothing to complain about in America, they think that we have it good as the model minority—thus racism, prejudice, lack of access doesn’t affect us when it does. It still continues. This attitude is no more infuriating when it’s other Asians who think this…Even time I’ve started the blog till now, I’ve been seeing changes—just in the sheer number of Asians on television. It’s happening, just not happening as quickly.”
Hot Blog Spots
Phil’s scoop on Asianinterest publications
Bloggers Jen Wang and Diana Nguyen will flat out tell you “You’re a disgrace. To the race.” Their blog is a snarky but humorous take on the news and media—think a mixture between a grandma’s lack of filter, and the carefree spunk of two, confident Asian American women (which they are). From focusing on “Amazians of the Week,” “Disgrazians of the Weak,” dictionary of their blog slang, including “Asiandroid—Asian robot. Ex. Julie Chen,” to “Racial Drag,” and “Amazians of the Week,” Jen and Diana so loudly deliver their thoughts on Asians in the media complete with witty innuendos that it’s refreshing.
According to Phil Yu, this blog is “not specifically Asian, but covers race and pop culture in general.” The blog, founded and published by Carmen Van Kerckhove, takes on a serious tone, using well-polished articles and features as their blog posts. The blog is edited by Latoya Peterson, and covers everything from “Multicultural Identity,” “racism,” and the frightening craze for bloodsuckers…“Twilight.”
A publication started by Eric Nakamura and Martin Wong in 1994, “Giant Robot” talks about all aspects of Asian and Asian-American pop culture from stars to surfing the net. Found in various boutiques, Barnes & Noble and Borders, the magazine also offers the inside scoop on new Asian trends and controversial issues with amazing graphics and eye-catching design.
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Priscilla Ahn: Girl In a Tree by Ashley Kim It’s not every day you meet someone who says she’d be yellow. In a box of crayons, that is. Singer/songwriter Priscilla Ahn says the color yellow “makes me happy, reminds me of the warm sunshine, and I just like the way it sounds.” With Ahn’s contagious giggle, raw lyrics, and angelic voice, the reasons why she loves yellow precisely explain why people are so drawn to her.
high school who showed me a couple things. I’d go to Barnes and Nobles to read the Idiot’s Guide to Playing Harmonica. I just read little tips, went home, and practiced every day.
Why did you choose the name, “Priscilla Ahn” over your original name, “Priscilla Hartranft?”
My lyrics come from my life experiences or stories I’ve heard. On the guitar, I let my words out subconsciously, and keep it real. Hidden thoughts and memories just come out, and after I write the first verse down, I see and understand what the song is about.
My real last name was hard to pronounce, spell and say correctly. I don’t even say it correctly. It’s a German last name. I liked my maiden name, and my harabooji (grandpa in Korean) was a singer, so that rang a bell!
Have you been to Korea?
I love Korea, and visited about nine times. It’s my favorite type of food. I love everything, no meat though, and I love my mom’s jam bbong (Korean spicy seafood) soup.
Do you know how to speak Korean?
Not at all. I wish my mom taught me more. The older I get, the harder and harder it is to learn. I can understand a lot of it and read characters.
There was a lot of discussion on your blog before you cut your signature long hair and surprised fans, especially male ones. Your unique style attracts a lot of female fans too. Were you always into fashion? I love fashion, but I don’t think I’m that in tune. I’m really inspired by Alexa Chung. I don’t wear make-up but like to play with mascara. As for my haircut, I just trusted my hairstylist.
How was hearing your song [“Find My Way Back Home”] in My Sister’s Keeper? It was weird. I was scared, and my palms were sweating. I was waiting for someone to say, “This song sucks!” I’ve also seen Bride Wars in theatres and when I heard my song [“Dream”] it just really made me so happy.
How did you start playing the guitar?
What kind of guitar do you play?
I have a few, but I have an old 1965 Yamaha, an Elliott Smith one. It’s great for the road. There’s something I like about older guitars. There’s more soul in them, more history.
How do you write your lyrics?
What goes on in your head right before you perform?
Don’t forget the words. Up until a couple years ago, I was really tense so I’d even get shoulder massages and lay there and think of what to say in between songs. Now I sort of don’t think at all and just talk between songs. Well, sometimes. I still have tense shoulders.
What was your carpe diem moment?
I had gotten into the Berkeley College of Music, but even with scholarship, I couldn’t afford it. I decided to go to a state school in Pennsylvania but once I went up there, I got really, really depressed, and it just didn’t feel right. A music professor at that university, a very eccentric, think-outsidethe-box professor, found my personal number, and told me, “Maybe you shouldn’t go to college right now.” It was exactly what I needed to hear. He told me college will always be here but not my chance to do what I love.
What’s been happening with your new album?
I’ve been writing and meeting with friends to explore different ideas and sounds. I’m currently shopping around for a producer. There’s no hurry, but I am planning for a spring CD release.
(Check out Ahn’s blog, “Girl In A Tree,” at girlinatree.blogspot.com.)
I’m a Neil Young fan and was also inspired by this guy in Photo by Henry Diltz
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Reality?
Check
An NU sophomore takes her talent to television “She’s got great vision – and it’s not even the kind of thing by Katherine Zhu where she’s so good and isn’t able to connect,” says Ashna Shah,
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hen she was little, Nikkitasha Marwaha dreamed of someday becoming Madhuri Dixit, one of Hindi cinema’s leading actresses. “Madhuri was my inspiration,” Marwaha says. “When I was four years old, I used to watch a lot of Bollywood films and I began copying her.” Trained in Indian classical dance, Marwaha, a sophomore in the School of Communications, is currently competing on Dance India Dance (the Indian version of So You Think You Can Dance) and secured a spot in the top 10 before being elimianted. The show’s second season debuted on Dec. 18 and runs until May. “Dancing is like a high,” she says, her soft-spoken voice dripping with sincerity. “It’s my passion. When I dance on stage, it’s like I’m flying. I know my feet are grounded, I know I’m slamming my feet on the ground, but I feel like I’m flying. That feeling of dance comes from my heart. When I listen to music or watch Bollywood films, I just want to get up and dance.” When she was little, Marwaha’s father notes that he used to record her on video camera. Even from a young age, her passion for dance shone through. “We zoomed in to get her facial expressions,” her father explained. “It seems like she is dancing from her heart and soul. She’s dancing like nobody is watching her and she’s in another world, just doing it, feeling nobody at all and just doing what she feels.” Marwaha has been dancing since she was 10 years old, with Bollywood being her main focus. “I started at 10 with classical Indian dance training – kuchipudi,” she says. “Bollywood is a very general style, it incorporates modern as well. It’s inspired by other dancers and it’s a healthy mixture of Indian style.” Although Marwaha is unbelievably excited to be competing on Dance India Dance, this is not her first time in the public eye. When she was 14 years old, she entered the Boogie Woogie Dance Competition and won as a junior contestant. At age 17, she took first-place as a senior contestant, winning a free trip to India and eventually securing a place at the Boogie Woogie international finals in London. Marwaha was also crowned Miss India USA in 2008, an international pageant taking place in South Africa. “For me, it’s a learning experience,” Marwaha says. “I always knew I wanted to be a part of Bollywood and this competition helped me in that regard.” When she’s not busy jetting off to Europe or Asia for dance competitions and pageants, Marwaha maintains a pretty normal life at Northwestern. The film major splits her time between two dance groups, the Northwestern Bhangra Team and Mirch Masala (literally translated, hot and spicy), the South Asian Student Association and her sorority, Zeta Tau Alpha. “I dedicate a lot of time to these [dance] teams,” she says. “I want to get into film and TV work, so I’m always in front of or behind the camera.” Marwaha’s raw talent and passion is channeled through her involvement with Northwestern’s two dance teams.
junior in the School of Communications and President of Mirch Masala. “She’s very capable of teaching of choreographing dance on the spot… she’s very accepting of where she needs to be in terms of the formation and has never demanded anything of us.” Marwaha’s father also recognizes his daughter’s innate understanding of movement. “If she practiced a routine, there will be variations when she performs – she goes with the flow,” he says. “She has a concept in mind and puts her heart and soul into it. It’s like she dreams when she dances.” Dance is a huge part of Marwaha’s life, and she works hard to balance her academic duties with her professional goals. Crediting a large part of her success to her familial support, Marwaha also recognizes the understanding of her professors as an important factor to accommodating her schedule. “There’s an understanding between me and my professors – I always ask them for extensions,” she explains. “My parents and friends are also very supportive of my decision. I absolutely want to do this, and I’m willing to hold off on education for a year.” When asked how she is able to balance her schoolwork with dance, Marwaha responds with a chuckle. “I get that question all the time,” she laughs. “My freshman year in college was really hard. But by my sophomore year, I learned to travel loose and work on planes. I’m constantly using technology to get my work done. That’s the way I’ve always done it, and I have a lot of people supporting me.” While Marwaha adds an air of effortlessness to her constant travel demands, her daily schedule in India is very regimented. Waking up at 9 a.m., Marwaha spends the rest of her day dancing. The show’s contestants are all on a sport diet – that means fruits, rice, lentils and sometimes chocolate. The prestige of Dance India Dance doesn’t create a cutthroat competitive environment, according to Marwaha, who describes a healthy competition both on and off set. “In front of the camera, we’re competing for lives and for the dream,” she says. “All of us want a piece of that fame. But the competition is healthy, we’re all supportive but all goal-minded at the same time.” Although Shah describes Marwaha as great to work with, she has undergone her fair share of hardships. “There was some on-set negativity and I didn’t like the attitude of some people,” she says. “I came to India all alone, and I cried because I miss my mom and dad. But on set, you have to do your own thing.” “She’s so maintained, nothing fazes her and she’s been taught to take anything in stride,” Shah said. Marwaha also embodies this approach to the show. “I don’t mind if I don’t win this competition – provided the person who wins deserves it more than I do,” she declares. “This competition opens more doors for me in India – people will recognize my face and hopefully I will get more opportunities.”
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Photo by Christina Chintanaphol
Being CaucASIAN at Northwestern Diversity in NU’s student groups by Annie Chang
When Weinberg freshman Katie Bock auditioned for Northwestern’s a cappella groups last Fall, she was just looking to sing – she wasn’t expecting to be introduced to a totally foreign culture. Bock says she didn’t predict she would end up in Treblemakers, an Asian-interest a capella group that sings in Mandarin Chinese as well as English. As the only Caucasian in the group largely made up of Chinese students, Bock says she often gets surprised reactions when others hear she is a member of Treblemakers. “When I tell people, they’ll say to me, ‘Wait, isn’t that the Asian one?’ and I just tell them ‘yes,’” she says. “It doesn’t matter to me.” Bock says the decision to
join Treblemakers didn’t require much thought. “I just wanted to sing,” she says. “They called me back, so I joined.” Now Bock is truly a part of the group, performing with the same enthusiasm and theatricality as her fellow members, evident when the group sang “Bad Romance” at Northwestern’s Celebrasia 2010. But Bock isn’t the only one immersing herself in the Asian student culture on campus. In fact, many of Northwestern’s Asian-interest groups have non-Asian members. Weinberg sophomore Kelly Kahle is one of the two nonAsian members on Northwestern’s Hindi Film Dance Team, a group that choreographs and performs dance routines to mu-
sic from Bollywood films. Kahle says while there was some hesitance about being one of the only Caucasians in the group, whose members are mostly South Asian, she’s now extremely close to the team. “There were barely any hesitations about joining,” Kahle says. “It was more about me getting out there and wanting to try something new.” Kahle says she feels integrated into the team. “I consider the team to be like family,” she says. “Since getting to know the team members and practicing with them so often, I feel like I’m a part of something.” Since joining the Hindi Film Dance Team, Kahle has become much more interested in South Asian culture.
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“I got a collection of Bollywood movies from one of the team members for Christmas,” she says. “I listen to a good amount of Indian music, too.” Other students involved in Asian-interest groups have become more involved in the Asian culture as well, often by trying to learn the group’s ethnic language. McCormick junior Beau Garrett is the only non-Asian member of Brown Sugar, a South Asian-interest a cappella group that often sings in Hindi. “We try to evenly divide song selections between English, Hindi and songs that have both,” he says. Garrett says he has learned several songs in Hindi, and had the opportunity to perform a Hindi solo this past year. Though he is the only non-Asian in Brown Sugar, Garrett says he seldom feels left out of the group. “There is a lot to the culture, like its sense of humor and other cultural things,” Garrett says. “I think I’m starting to pick up on it more.” Garrett was recruited to join Brown Sugar last year by the group’s musical director, who was also non-Asian. Though he has graduated, Garrett says his presence was helpful in his transition to becoming a member in Brown Sugar.
“I have always felt like I am part of the family and it really is more appropriately labeled a South Asian-interest a cappella group rather than a South Asian a cappella group,” says Garrett. He adds, “I plan to take on the role of Musical Director my senior year.” But what is driving non-Asian students to join these groups, and what is motivating the Asian-interest groups to recruit
“I always worshipped with Asian Americans at home,” he says. “When I was growing up many of my friends were Asian. I’m definitely most comfortable being with Latinos and Asians.” Espinoza says there are many similarities between the Hispanic and Asian cultures, which allows him to relate to both. “I just love the Asian culture,” he says. “I love the food, the people, everything.” According to ASG Student Groups Vice President Bill Russell and Financial Vice President Emma Kerr, the ASG is currently reevaluating the constitutions of A- and Bstatus student groups. The new constitutions state that the student group cannot “discriminate or permit discrimination by any member of its community against any individual on the basis of race, color…” Kerr says that ASG supports non-Asians joining Asian-interest groups. “If non-Asians join an Asian interest group, great!” she says. “Ideally, student groups should enrich the lives of students on campus, and I hope that all students can partake in such experiences.”
“It’s the chance to try something new with people who know the culture.”
non-Asians? For these students, it’s the chance to try something new with people who know the culture. But for others, it’s more about just being comfortable. Weinberg junior Luis Espinoza is an active member of Asian American InterVarsity and says many of his best friends are Asian.
Photo by Christina Chintanaphol
The Treblemakers perform their rendition of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” at Dance Marathon 2010: Stand Up and Sing.
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by Corinne Chin
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Photo courtesy of David Leander
orthwestern senior David Leander might see himself as a pre-med, materials science, economics and Spanish major. Or as a global health and classical studies double minor. Or as a captain of the varsity cheerleading squad, trumpet player in the Northwestern University Concert Band or anything else in the laundry list of clubs he leads. But there is one thing others see him as that he does not. “Honestly, if mirrors didn’t exist, I wouldn’t perceive myself as Asian,” Leander said. Leander was adopted from South Korea when he was six months old and was raised by his white parents in St. Louis. He must often clarify his non-ethnic name, and Leander says his race is not integral to his self-identity. “I definitely identify more with Caucasian people,” he said. “I don’t really think [ethnicity] is part of my self-perception.” Leander has had no problem living with his ethnic inconsistencies. A 1993 study by the National Adoption Information Clearinghouse agrees with him: 75 percent of trans-racially adopted children, including those from Asia, adjust well in adoptive homes. A 1995 study further concludes that trans-racial adoption has no overall negative impact on adjustment, self-esteem, academic achievement or peer, parental and adult relationships. But there are many who beg to differ. Barb Lee’s 2008 documentary, “Adopted” and its companion film, “We Can Do Better,” convey these frustrations from the perspective of adults adopted during the 1950s and 60s when South Korean adoptions were popular. The adoptees were raised during an era when many white families thought ignoring their children’s race was the best route to a happy life in America.
These lasting psychological implications are a growing concern now, especially when celebrities like Angelina Jolie and Madonna have romanticized international adoption—new parents may not realize the emotional baggage trans-racial adoption carries, adoption experts say. And the number of international adoptions is growing: while recent numbers are not yet available, the 2000 U.S. Census indicates 5 percent of adoptive white families chose Asian children. Additionally, adoptions from Asia comprised half of all international adoptions from 1990 to 2005. WHY ASIA? | Asian adoptions are attractive to families for several reasons. In 2005, music teacher Bonny Scheer applied for a Chinese adoption. She and her husband wanted to welcome a newborn girl to their Glenview home. After birthing a biological son in 2000 and then undergoing infertility treatments for the next five years, Scheer was persuaded by the short wait-time typical of Chinese adoptions. It seemed more appealing than preparing an extensive dossier to add to the tomes of a domestic adoption agency’s queue. “We didn’t want to go to a place where we were going to be put on a list and have to sell ourselves,” Scheer said. “The birth mother may choose you and she may not. We had already been through the emotional up and down [with infertility treatments]; we just wanted to get in line and get our child.” With rapidly growing demand, the wait-time in China quickly increased, and Scheer did not get matched with a child until March 2010—five years later. But for much of the last decade, China-- with its “one-child” policy--was the go-to country for international adoption. That was why Tina Qualls decided to adopt a daughter from China 13 years ago. “When our youngest biological child was a senior in high
If mirrors didn’t exist, I wouldn’t perceive myself as Asian.
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Photo courtesy of David Leander
Opposite page and above: David Leander with his family. The senior was adopted from South Korea when he was six months old. Left: China Care holds a playgroup event for Halloween. The student organization aims to fundraise for orphans in China and provide programming for Chicago-area children who were adopted from China. Photo by Katie Park
school, we felt God’s calling to adopt, not being ready for a house to be empty,” Qualls said. “We weren’t actually thinking about adoption beforehand. A large group of people who adopt have older children as well.” Qualls adopted a Chinese brother for her daughter, and later she became director of the China program of Children’s Hope International, a St. Louis-based adoption agency. In this position, she often must counsel adoptive parents who are facing obstacles. “I had a mother come into my office one time crying,” Qualls said. “She said, ‘I never told her she was adopted, but she knows she doesn’t look like us.’ I told her, ‘Your daughter is young. Just be open about where she’s from.’ And that’s how kids grow comfortable with who they are.” ADOPTEE’S SEARCH FOR ANSWERS | Leander said, “I don’t really think that looking different from my parents was part of my perception growing up.” He has always been at ease with his origins. Part of this may stem from his family’s excursions to international fairs. However, exposure to these fairs had the opposite effect on Leander’s younger sister, further piquing her interest. Adopted from China as an infant, she yearns to learn more about her biological and ethnic roots. “My sister is really interested in Chinese culture,” Leander said. “She feels like she needs to go to China. But I don’t really feel that way.” There is only one cultural void in Leander’s life: “I feel stupid when other people speak Korean.” Likewise, Dorelle Ackerman, mother to a 13-year-old Chinese adoptee, said, “One interesting fact was how uncomfortable my daughter was when we went to cultural events that had an audience of mostly Asians. I think she felt most isolated when she was with a group of people that looked like her yet she felt she didn’t belong, especially if they were speaking Mandarin.”
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A SHIFTING APPROACH | No one can be sure what distinguishes distinguishes youthful cultural aversion from the adult anguish portrayed in “Adopted.” But “Beyond Culture Camp,” a November 2009 study by the Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute, found that “adoption is an increasingly significant aspect of identity for adopted people as they age, and remains so even when they are adults.” As adoptees mature, and so begin to understand their backgrounds, this makes sense. But looking back can also bring disturbing memories: in the study, 78 percent of Korean respondents reported they considered themselves white, or wished to be white as children. “Parents want their kids to maintain this culture,” said senior Molly Chen, co-president of China Care, a group on campus that works with children adopted from China. “They value the diversity that [other kids at China Care] bring to their families, and I feel like with all culture it’s important to maintain some connection within it. Parents understand that it’s hard because they are providing such an American lifestyle. ” Since 2005, China Care has organized playgroups for children ages 2 to 7. Chen says the group tries to incorporate elements of Chinese culture with student-volunteer-led activities, crafts, and fun. The organization also facilitates mentorships for adoptees ages eight and older; they pair a child with a Northwestern student and allow them to develop a relationship however they find appropriate, from being pen pals to meeting for lunch. “Parents try to network with each other and have their kids play with each other; the kids grow up and realize that there’s a network there for them, so that helps address a lot of the identity issues,” Chen said. “Parents understand that it’s very important to talk to their kids about why there were adopted and where they’re from. In the past, parents have tried to shield the kids and pretend like they’re not different. Now they’re fostering it. It’s a definite shift.” Ackerman and her 13-year-old daughter participated in mentorships a few years ago. They stopped because “by the time the relationship was built, the mentor would be graduating from Northwestern and moving on. Still, they were a great group of role models.” Yet Ackerman said, “It probably won’t surprise you that at age 13, she no longer wants to ‘celebrate’ the Chinese holidays the way she used to. My daughter did want to decorate our house but that was it.” HOW CAN WE PREVENT PSYCHOLOGICAL TURMOIL? | Upon seeing a photo of her daughter for the first time, Scheer resolved to take precautions to make her daughter’s life as happy as possible. “Other adoptive parents, they say, ‘After a while we don’t think of her as our Chinese daughter; we think of her as our daughter.’ We want to celebrate that she’s Chinese along with all the other beautiful qualities about her. As she grows up, I’m hoping to facilitate her feeling comfortable in a group of Chinese friends and also in a group of Caucasian—or any other race—friends.” Scheer has been taking Mandarin classes and purchasing Chinese lullaby CDs. A music student has brought her Chinese picture books and recorded them in both Chinese and English for the baby to hear. She also plans to enroll her daughter in Chinese classes and Chinese dance lessons. While the burden of preventing adoptees’ identity crisis seems to rest on parents’ shoulders, the end result may be out of their hands. “Most parents try,” Leander said, ”but at the same time—it’s what you make of it.”
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Far m home fro
Taking advantage of Chicago’s Asian immigrant resources by Katherine Zhu
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earing a warm smile on her face, Tung Tran’s eyes sparkle with a delightful curiosity. “We’re neighbors,” she says, after learning I’m from China. “I live in Saigon.” Tran, 69, first came to Chicago in 2005 to visit her daughter for three months before returning to Vietnam. She came back to the city in 2006 for family reasons: to take care of her granddaughter. “Every morning, I take her to school, and at 2:30 I pick her up… then I’ll help her do her homework,” Tran laughs. Every Monday and Wednesday, she attends an adult English language class at the Vietnamese Association of Illinois. Armed with a binder full of handouts, a notebook filled with new vocabulary words and an electronic pocket dictionary, Tran listens attentively as Tim Vu, adult education program manager, teaches them about school districts and the different levels of government. “Learning English is the biggest problem for Asian immigrants,” says Vu. “If they don’t know the language, they feel trapped – not having access or knowledge of jobs. A lot of people come by for help reading their bills, little things like that that we take for granted.”
Tran also attends Truman College on Tuesdays and Thursdays, showcasing her commitment to cultural assimilation in the United States. She studied English a long time ago, she says, having been a teacher in Vietnam for over 30 years. “I do study English… the language, I need to study a lot, have conversation with people around me,” she says. “Speak and hear English is very difficult with me.” Despite the challenges that learning a new language presents, Tran is very diligent in her approach. “I practice a lot,” she says. “Every night I study about vocabulary and practice with my granddaughter. Every day I like to read the newspaper.” According to Mark Ballard, development director of the Chinese Mutual Aid Association, another issue stemming from the language barrier for Asian immigrants is the cultural importance of family. “It’s an issue of parents not speaking much English and their kids becoming fully bilingual,” he explains. “If parents have to do something official, like go to doctor, they have to take their kids with them to translate. It puts [kids] in familial power position that isn’t a cultural norm and it can cause some issues.” Chicago houses various communitybased organizations that specifically cater to an Asian demographic and help to bridge the cultural gap. And while culture
Photo by Katie Zhu
creates a difficult barrier in itself, it stems to other economic and societal concerns as well. Another exacting factor for immigrants is the nature of Uptown Chicago and nature of immigrant communities in the city. By definition, these communities are multiethnic, which is often a drastic change from the racial situation back home, and presents another layer of adaptability. “For someone from a more or less mono-ethnic background to come to Uptown is also a challenge,” Ballard says. “Not only is there the dominant angle culture, but with people from so many different countries, there is cacophony of languages and cultures. It’s difficult to figure out how to operate.” With a diverse Asian population, the city has recognized the hardships of its inhabitants and offers a variety of resources for Asian immigrants. The Vietnamese Association of Illinois, Cambodian Association of Illinois and Chinese Mutual Aid Association are part of a larger collaborative entity, the Mutual Assistance Organization of Illinois, which includes the Cambodian, Lao, Bosnian, Pan-African, Vietnamese and Chinese Mutual Aid Associations, according to Ballard. “It aims to serve immigrants and refugees,” he says. “Someone who is an immigrant has a lot of issues. Just learning how things are done in the United States is
nuAsian difficult.” It seems the immigrant challenge often boils down to this fact – the idea of community solidarity. “I live in Cook County,” Vu teaches in his English class. “We are the Vietnamese community.” Interaction between his six students, reading to each other and speaking in Vietnamese to help each other’s understanding, exhibits the need of immigrants to lean on one another. Having left home and abandoned everything familiar, there is a need to create a new collective social conscience and have a safety net to fall back on. Immigrating to a new country often shatters your reference frame – adjusting to new societal norms and cultural standards is by no means simple. In face of all the cultural and language barriers, Tran manages to stay positive. “I like Chicago,” she laughs. “Just not in the winter.”
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Photo by Katie Zhu
Inside immigrant resources in Chicago Cambodian Association of Illinois The Cambodian Association of Illinois (CAI) is a nonprofit, comprehensive social service organization founded in 1976 by a group of Cambodian refugee volunteers responding to the need of Cambodians resettling in Chicago, according to Kompaseth Tsering, employee of CAI. Serving an estimated 3,000 Cambodians in Chicago, CAI provides bilingual programming to address the interrelated social and economic needs of the Cambodian-American population. CAI programs include: Children and Youth, Citizenship, Employment Assistance, Seniors, Strengthening Families and Family Health Outreach. The organization has developed these social programs to specifically target its Cambodian audience, focusing first and foremost on the language barrier in order to help offer employment opportunities and promote cultural assimilation.
Chinese Mutual Aid Association Chinese Mutual Aid Association (CMAA) is a communitybased social services agency, according to Ballard. Founded in the late 1970s as part of a grassroots initiative led by a group of ethnic Chinese refugees from Vietnam, CMAA was awarded nonprofit status in 1981. “Our staff speaks close to 30 languages and dialects,” Ballard says. “Although we primarily serve Chinese and Vietnamese, we have expanded our mission to include others.” CMAA offers both English and citizenship classes, at four to five different levels. One on one tutors are also available. Classes are often taught in Chinese and capped at 10 people per class. “English language civics teaches people enough English to take the citizenship test,” Ballard
explains. Additional citizenship support is now provided directly through the organization. “Last year, our department manager got legal certification so we don’t have to outsource to a lawyer.” Other programs offered by the CMAA include those pertaining to education and the workforce, literacy and employment development, social services and the youth.
Vietnamese Association of Illinois The Vietnamese Association of Illinois has been serving Chicago’s Vietnamese community for over 35 years, said executive director Lhaptakh Tsering. “We have two youth programs, one which focuses on afterschool youth,” Vu says. “My concentration is middle school students.” Vu says the Association also has a mental health initiative geared toward the Asian community, as well as a homemaker program to assist those at home who need help with living and senior assistance. A large focus of the Vietnamese Association’s efforts is focused on citizenship and immigration related issues, such as citizenship tests, green cards, documents and passports. “Besides language, employment is another big issue,” Vu notes. “We have educational workshops and an employment program to help people who are seeking jobs.” Vu teaches English classes for the community, titled English Literacy Civics. “It’s like ESL, however it mainly deals with citizenshiprelated issues,” he explains. “We cover things such as American school systems, democracy, government, health care, calling 911 and learning about public libraries.”
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hidden in the fold
Gay Asian Americans struggle for visibility by Nicole Hong
nuAsian When Albert Yan came out of the closet in high school to his family, his sister first responded, “Albert, let’s go boy-watching together.” Yan’s mother, however, didn’t receive the news with as much enthusiasm. “She sort of still thinks it’s a phase,” says Yan, a Weinberg and Bienen sophomore from New Jersey. “It’s still something taboo that we don’t really talk about.” Yan also decided to tell his father, who left the family and broke off contact for a while after his divorce with Yan’s mother when Yan was in middle school. “I break it to him that I have a boyfriend and that we’ve been dating for a year,” Yan says. “He says, ‘There’s no gay gene in my blood line. Your mom must have slept with someone else. Either it’s just a phase or you’re confused.’” Yan hasn’t heard from him since. Yan’s narrative is just one perspective among a largely invisible Asian Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender community at Northwestern. But outside of Northwestern Asian-American LGBTs have gained increasing visibility across the globe. New York City allowed an openly gay contingent to march in its annual Lunar New Year parade for the first time in its 11-year history. Gay and lesbian Vietnamese-Americans in Westminster, Calif., also sparked controversy in February when they marched for the first time in the Westminster Tet Parade, a celebration of the Vietnamese New Year.
Across the Pacific, Shanghai hosted China’s first gay pride festival last June. While gay Asians and other gay minority populations face many of the same difficulties in a largely white-centric gay community, there may be some cultural particularities that add another layer of obstacles for the Asian LGBT community. “Because we’re part of two minorities, that creates its own set of challenge,” says Ben de Guzman, co-director of programs for the National Queer Asian Pacific Islander Alliance. “On the one hand, we’re facing racism in the LGBT community. On the other hand, we’re facing homophobia within our own families.” NORTHWESTERN’S GAY ASIAN COMMUNITY “What community?” That seems to be the overwhelming response of students when asked about the visibility of the gay Asian community on campus. All four of the gay Asian students interviewed could count on one hand the number of other gay Asians they knew at NU, and no one could name a single Asian lesbian on campus. “The gay scene everywhere is predominately white or black,” Yan says. “There really is no gay Asian community.” Demographics may play a factor. Asian Americans constitute well over 30 or 40 percent of the student body at schools like UCLA and UC Berkeley, schools that are
spring 2010
located in rich pockets of Asian-American communities and consequently have more activist gay Asian populations. By contrast, schools like the University of WisconsinMadison have virtually non-existent gay Asian populations. But pointing to demographics isn’t a sufficient explanation. Although the city of Chicago was approximately 6 percent Asian in 2008, that percentage was significantly higher in the suburbs, with Asians making up 21 percent of the population in Skokie. For a university that welcomed an incoming class with 22 percent Asian Americans, it seems puzzling that gay Asians are such an invisible minority on campus. On the national stage, gay Asians are starting to fight for their place in the American LGBT narrative, but their lack of visibility has presented problems for advocacy groups seeking funding for Asian LGBT causes. “There are not enough resources that are dedicated to finding support for our communities because white gay people think there aren’t any Asians who are gay or that there aren’t enough Asians who are gay,” says de Guzman. “Even Asians who are straight do not think there are enough of us who are gay.” The absence of an Asian support network at NU could be the reason for a quiet gay Asian population, says Johnston Chen, a Weinberg senior from Los Angeles. Chen came out to his best friend in fifth grade and told his parents just two years
Albert Yan, Weinberg and Bienen sophomore
“[My mother] sort of still thinks it’s a phase. It’s still something taboo that we don’t really talk about.” Photo by Emily Chow
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Johnston Chen, Weinberg senior
“I’m sure there are people who are out there who don’t come out because they don’t feel like the other gays when they go to Rainbow Alliance meetings.” Photo by Emily Chow
ago. “I’m sure there are people who are out there who don’t come out because they don’t feel like the other gays when they go to Rainbow Alliance meetings,” Chen says. “All the gay people I know back home are Asian like me, so having them all be white here was a different culture and place.” McCormick junior Travis Lau, who still has not come out to his mother, says the scarcity of gay Asians at NU make the few gay Asians stand out even more. “Since I feel like it’s rare to see a gay Asian at NU, people aren’t used to it, so they’re shocked,” Lau says. “Especially within the Asian community, it’s like, ‘Oh, there’s a gay Asian. That’s interesting. I’m not used to that.’” So where are the gay Asians at Northwestern? Are they simply hiding in the closet? Or are Asians just more conservative about their gender and sexuality? Do culturally unique factors make it especially difficult for AsianAmerican students to come out? Is this indicative of racism and xenophobia in the wider LGBT community? Perhaps all of these analyses are overly simplistic. HISTORY OF ASIAN PERCEPTIONS OF HOMOSEXUALITY Same-sex relations have appeared in ancient Chinese and Japanese literature as early as the 6th century. Some of the most overt references to same-sex relations came during China’s imperial period. During the Ming dynasty, it was “fashionable” for male scholars to have young male partners, says Li-Cheng Gu,
Chinese professor at NU. The Han dynasty saw the rise of several allegedly homosexual emperors, including the famous Emperor Ai, who supposedly established a relationship with his official, Dong Xian. Historians often call their relationship “passions of the cut sleeve” because one afternoon, after they napped together, Dong’s head was on top of Emperor Ai’s sleeve. The emperor cut off his sleeve instead of disturbing Dong’s sleep, an episode recounted in Passions of the Cut Sleeve, a book by Bret Hinsch, a history professor at National Chung Cheng University in Taipei. Although these practices were tolerated in the imperial period in East Asia, that does not necessarily mean they were accepted. Same-sex relations were viewed as “shameful” and “subject for fun,” says Peter Carroll, Chinese history professor at NU. Attitudes about homosexuality fluctuated from tolerance to outright rejection during the imperial period, but Gu points to Confucianism as the primary reason why homosexuality was denounced in the long run, especially in Chinese society. One of the highest virtues in Confucianism is filial piety, or showing the utmost respect and obedience for parents and ancestors. “If you don’t have children, you cannot carry on the family, and the family name will be lost,” Gu says. “Then, you will be the most un-filial son of the family, so because of that, gays and lesbians (in China) were severely punished by their families and by the government.”
After the Chinese Communist party took over in 1949, homosexuality became even more severely punished. The rise in Chinese nationalism hardened critical attitudes about same-sex relations, as Communist leader Mao Zedong emphasized the need to be strong and adhere to gender norms, Carroll said. This period also saw the beginning of viewing Chinese homosexuals as criminals. “Mao thought power rested in the number of people, so the more people you produce, the greater you will be as a nation,” Gu says. “If you don’t produce babies, you are not useful to society, so gays and lesbians were considered criminals.” In fact, Gu says when he was growing up in China, his classmates would label students they disliked as being gays or lesbians. Gu also says traditionally, Asians have a heightened sense of privacy about their sexuality compared to their white peers. The lack of comprehensive sex education in China when he was growing has only perpetuated this silence on gender and sexuality. “Among friends, we never talk about sex because we are so shy about this,” Gu says. “It is such an untouched topic in Asian culture, and we were never educated about sexuality, so even among my friends, we don’t talk about it.” IMPACT OF TRADITIONAL VALUES ON DIASPORA But are these traditional values so strong that they traveled with the Asian immigrants who crossed the Pacific? While these attitudes vary significantly across
nuAsian the diaspora, Victor Bascara, an AsianAmerican studies professor at UCLA, says the Confucian emphasis on family became especially important for Asian immigrants who faced discrimination in the U.S. “The family becomes an important site of life in a potentially hostile society, so it’s important to understand how much is at stake in a family’s acceptance or non-acceptance of a family member,” Bascara says. Family support has varied across gay Asian students at NU. Johnston Chen delayed telling his parents because he didn’t feel the necessity to tell his parents. Chen wasn’t planning on getting married soon, but he says a cultural component played into his postponed coming-out as well. “I’m sure part of it was that I was afraid of bringing so much shame to the family and honor and blah blah blah, all that Asian stuff,” Chen says. Other closeted gay Asian students have approached Chen about their reservations about coming out to their families. “One guy was like, ‘I’m the last guy on my dad’s side, so I’m the only person to carry on my family name, so I’m really scared about telling my parents about being gay,’” Chen says. “That really exemplifies a lot of gay Asian thinking that you don’t really see with gay white people, the notion that you have some sort of obligation to your family.” Albert Yan says traditional stereotypes have prevailed among many AsianAmericans, some of whom view homosexuality as a disease, a phase or a genetic defect. Several gay Asian students say homosexuality remains a taboo topic in conversations with parents, even after their coming out. A Weinberg senior, who wished to remain anonymous because he is not completely out of the closet, says although his parents were very supportive, they didn’t want the rest of the family knowing. “I feel like I got a very Asian response, like ‘Don’t tell your grandparents,’” he said. “My parents were particularly afraid of the whole family knowing. It was kind of insulting at first.” Chen agrees that cultural factors make coming out for Asians much less focused on the individual, citing National Coming Out Day in the U.S. as a more “liberating” and individualist-oriented process. “Asians have different values and different concerns, so our coming-out process needs to cater to our cultural particularities,
which deal a lot of what will the family think,” Chen says. Family values have also presented challenges for organizations advocating for Asian LGBT communities. Ben de Guzman, who has been actively involved in Asian American civil rights work since 1998, says it has always been easier for gay Asians to criticize other LGBT organizations for racism than to criticize their own families for homophobia. “They’ll raise hell at gay meetings, and they’ll be written up in the gay papers, but they’re not going to flyer in Korea Town because Auntie might show up,” de Guzman said. Because of these prevailing attitudes, coming out of the closet may present extra challenges for LGBT minorities. “So much is focused on the white gay community,” Yan says. “Coming out of the closet, you do need a support network, but you can’t exactly build your own.” De Guzman says he doesn’t think it’s universally more difficult for Asians to come out since every community has more conservative and less conservative factions. He instead points to the allocation of resources away from gay immigrant communities. Almost all of the support services for LGBT communities are in English, and advocacy organizations often don’t have the funds to translate all these materials into Asian languages. “White gay people ignore immigrant communities, and it perpetuates itself in that resources are only in English, which makes gay Asians even more invisible,” de Guzman says. Even in the early emergence of the LGBT community in America with the Stonewall Riots in the 1960s, de Guzman says the movement privileged the homosexuals who had the power and resources to come out. “The gay narrative has been set by people who are more likely to be resourced,” de Guzman says, citing Will and Grace as the accepted image of gays that Americans find most
I was afraid of bringing so much shame to the family and honor and ... all that Asian stuff.
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palatable. Consequently, much of de Guzman’s advocacy work is making sure LGBT issues have an “ethnic analysis.” Major LGBT social movements in America, including the current push for same-sex marriage, often ignore the problems facing immigrant LGBT communities, says David Eng, an English professor at the University of Pennsylvania. “These rights might be something that we cannot not want, especially given a long history of discrimination and exclusion, but mainstream gay and lesbian political movements for same-sex marriage cloud out other important issues, such as racism and xenophobia,” says Eng, who is writing about this phenomenon in his new book “The Feeling of Kinship.” RECENT DEVELOPMENTS Many Asian countries have recently progressed toward a more open discussion about homosexuality, Peter Carroll says. In 2001, China removed homosexuality from its official list of mental illnesses, and gay bars are springing up in China’s biggest cities. In January, Beijing was set to put on China’s first gay pageant, but police officers cancelled the pageant an hour before the show began, citing a lack of the appropriate permits. Perhaps this also means good news for the Asian-American LGBT community. Although the current legal battle over California’s same-sex marriage ban, Proposition 8, does not necessarily have an Asian-American face, Victor de Bascara says queer Asian-Americans are struggling to find their place in the push for marriage equality. De Guzman is certainly hopeful that more and more gay Asian-American students will come out to their friends and families, strengthening their presence on college campuses nationwide. “We’re not going back in the closet, so we’re only going to move forward, and there’s only going to be more of us,” de Guzman said. “The current crop of student leaders will produce a generation of really empowered people who are comfortable in both their gay skin and their Asian skin. That’s going to be the narrative moving forward.” Will these new developments in the Asian LGBT help to increase the visibility of gay Asian students at NU? That narrative still remains unclear.
We’re not going back in the closet, so we’re only going to move forward, and there’s only going to be more of us.
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five
The APA stake in the things you healthcare debate by Pavan Krishnamurthy
T
he healthcare debate in Congress had raged on for twelve months, with almost no end in sight. First, there was the single-payer option; then, there was no public option. Later came the abortion compromises, closely followed by the Brown victory in Massachusetts, which destroyed the Democratic supermajority. Just recently, however, the United States House of Representatives was able to pass this historic legislation with only a few votes to spare. There is no question that this was one of the most contentious bills President Obama has pushed through Washington. Of the nearly 46 million Americans who remain uninsured, 2.2 million are Asian Americans. Knowing this, how has the Asian American community reacted to the slew of new reform policies? President Obama had made eliminating healthcare disparities one of his top priorities. Statistically, Asian women are less likely to be screened for cervical and breast cancer than white and African American women. Additionally, cultural and language barriers have been identified as major reasons why Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders have been unable to access health care services. While in state congress, thenIllinois State Senator Obama helped pass laws that made language assistance mandatory in Illinois health care. Moreover, with cancer, heart disease, and diabetes listed as the number one killers among Asian Americans according to the Asian Pacific American Legal Center, there are many populations that are affected by the passage of this health care bill. These racialized health failures, along with President Obama’s willingness to include Asian American and Pacific Islander issues on his agenda, have generally helped sway Asian Americans in his favor. A number of grassroots movements with numerous Asian American participants emerged during Barack Obama’s rise to presidency; groups such as Asian American for Obama ‘08, AsiansVote, and South Asians for Obama recently mobilized their efforts to help solidify support for healthcare reform. This marks a major shift for Asian Americans, who have been largely painted as being apathetic and uninterested in the political process. With no Asian American in the Senate and only a total of eight in the House
of Representatives, it seems that politicians who show interest will automatically win points with this sub-population; this is exactly what Obama is doing and he is being met with substantial support. Considering his racial awareness and sensitivity, Obama has been perceived as one of the first presidents to keep Asian American populations’ interests in mind. Obama celebrated Diwali this year and plans to construct appropriate foreign policy with Asian leaders. Not to mention, Obama’s Hawaiian roots have framed him as very “Asia-friendly.” Asian Americans also tend to swing blue in the voting booths, and this is especially true of the younger population. The Institute of Politics at Harvard University recently published a survey data showing that 47 percent of Asian Americans between the ages of 18 to 24 consider themselves Democrats, while only 15 percent align themselves with the GOP. African-Americans are the only other racial group to side more with the Democrats. This political leaning is actually a recent phenomenon. Asian American probusiness, anti-communist attitudes within the Vietnamese, Taiwanese and Chinese population along with socially conservative Korean, Indian, and Filipino-Americans helped consolidate Republican power for some time. In the ‘92 presidential election, Bill Clinton was only able to rally 31 percent of the Asian American vote, in comparison to 2006, when the Democrats controlled 62 percent of that population. The study concluded that high levels of education and parental affiliation and immigrant backgrounds all helped push the political inclination to the population, we are now seeing almost across the board socially liberal Asian Americans. All of this has translated into strong support for the healthcare bill, despite the economic burdens it may place on the budget. Considering that in many electorates (especially those in urban areas in California) up to 90 percent of Asian Americans supported universal heath coverage, it seems that the Asian American population is generally in favor of transforming American healthcare. The question is whether or not President Obama will be able to consolidate his political capital and finally actualize health coverage in the United States.
missed
Under-the-radar news in the Asian American community
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In April, Tyrese Gibson’s production company announced it would begin casting “interesting, attractive, colorful Asian-Americans to cast in a reality show similar to Jersey Shore, Real World, and The Hills.”
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The Northwestern Bollywood dance team, ANUBHAV, placed 2nd at the Jhoomti Sham competition in Los Angeles.
Under an amendment approved by the Board of Education in Texas, the state’s history curriculum will stress the internment of Germans and Italians as well as Japanese during WWII. Doing so, board members argued, will counter the belief that Japanese internment was motivated by racism.
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In a clash with the Chinese government over internet censorship, Google closed its service in China and instead diverted users to an uncensored Hong Kong search engine.
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South Korean Olympic Figure skater Kim Yuna took home the gold in the women’s short program with a record-breaking score of 78.50.
nuAsian
spring 2010
you are not a bubble by M.D. Monzon For Ken Choy
Illustrations by Emily Chow Sometime between my second and third Red Bull, I pinned my failure to produce a single sentence on Asians. More specifically, assimilated Asians. Surely it was not anything on my end, like writer’s block. I had plenty of ideas. Good ones, too, such as: Why are they afraid of black people? Why do they often become Youtube stars? Why do they care so much about their representation in television, in movies? But these questions eluded answer, since the pronoun ‘they’ could stand-
in for any minority group—not just Asians. I concluded that Asians must have slipped into the mainstream, for those trends represented beloved American values: the right to protest, the freedom to shamelessly self-promote, and the opportunity to fear blacks. Somewhere along this journey, Asians earned a hyphen, got bridged to American, and stayed connected. I could not prod the two apart with my pen, in spite of my looming deadline. Was my date of death circled on a calendar? Headlined:
December 1st, USC doctoral application due – American Studies and Ethnicity? Part of me worried that in forcing a split between the concept of Asian and American, I would end up fracturing my essay into the four-step, story pattern used by most authors in ethnic magazines: (1) Meditate on what needs to be said. (2) Identify a hot-button issue, story, or topic. (3) Look for a person of color involved. (4) Focus on how the issue, story, or
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nuAsian spring 2010 topic was shaped by color. This method was as laughable as the acronym it formed. In fact, I chortled with the insanity only an insomniac can possess. Endless like his days. Sometime later, I ceased chuckling. I realized, with a rub to the temple, that I had to churn out a complex and insightful article on cultural norms and stereotypes, even as I still grappled with something much more basic: “What is an Asian?” The can of Red Bull did not answer. I started to write, anyways:
Be Like Ming I first encountered them at UC Berkeley, these Militant Asians. When they spoke, they talked of “issues”, and not the magazine sort. They marched around in circles, while I walked straight to class. Most of all, they complained. Their range of complaints was as wide and ever-expanding as their protest circles, though it all seemed to center on representation. Or, to them, underrepresentation. They wanted more Asians in this or that field. Their reasoning confounded me—the amount of Asians in a particular profession should be commensurate with their size in the general population. In other words, these Militant Asians tried to pass off census data as justification for job placement. They also assumed a symmetrical neatness in statistics that would just never happen in demographics. Shouldn’t they know that? Militant Asians must be better at math than Compliant Asians, since they believe power lies in numbers. Of course, Militant Asians never complained about over-representation; when they took spots from other ethnicities, whole tables even, they slid into chairs in silence. On the days I passed them en route to my English classes, I felt like stopping to hold up a mirror. The percentage of Asians at Cal was three hundred and fifty times greater than the percentage of Asians in California. In physical terms, that was enough, apparently, for a small cohort of them to make huge ass circles (and other shapes—lines, squares, rectangles) on a regular basis. But they never formed a cross. Indeed, who would visibly complain for the Hispanics and blacks that got rejected— crossed out—because they had fewer AP and honors classes with which to prove their academic mettle? Certainly I did not. I loathed talk of racial justice in general and of diversity in particular. Ovals were objects I filled in on forms, not anything I aspired to be. To those who did, I wished to yell, “You are not a bubble!” In typical Berkeley fashion, I ruminated: Were these people on some-
thing? Or onto something? At the very least, I could relate to their critique of the entertainment industry, as its influence was much larger, exponentially larger, than the sum of its workers. So when Militant Asians bemoaned the lack of people who looked liked them in movies and on television, they were really bitching about our culture’s lack of prominent, upstanding figures. Yes, the model minority was without a model. Our situation was without precedent, stretching even before the proliferation of Militant Asians. If Hispanics had Cesar Chavez and blacks had Martin Luther King, Jr., what transcendent human being could Asians claim consanguinity to? No federal or state holiday pointed to anyone. There was Carlos Bulosan, but what did he achieve? Writing a memoir, and one largely fictitious at that? He didn’t count then, since Oprah would have wrung his little brown neck. Asians fared equally poor in the new millennium, and the forecast for the future looked grim. Unless, miraculously, Gatorade revives their series of commercials from the early nineties, this time featuring the Rockets starting center, dunking and lay-upping, while kids in the background sing, “I wanna be like Ming! Like Ming! If I could be like Ming...” I trailed off, my imagination having dwindled into ellipses. After thinning my blood with another swig of Red Bull, I
crumpled the paper into a ball and shot it toward the wastebasket. It rattled on the rim, bounced out. I wanna be like Ming! Like Ming! At this point, I’d settle for a man who has written a halfway decent article. Then I’d feel ten feet tall, bigger than Ming. Maybe I could also finally answer “Yes, extensively” when other writers asked, “Have you been published?” A confident dismissal was ideal. The way the question was phrased, as a state intrinsic to you, rather than an external achievement, called for it. No one has ever asked, “Have you published anything?” For a while, I thought about how other fields did not equate artistic merit to its public presentation—who would ask a painter: “Have you been displayed?” Or to a director: “Have you been distributed?” To a singer: “Have you been played?”—before realizing there was one type of practitioner who survived completely on views.
When Militant Asians bemoaned the lack of people who looked liked them in movies and on television, they were really bitching about our culture’s lack of prominent, upstanding figures. Yes, the model minority was without a model.
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Youtube Cultural Night I eyed the door to lecture hall, debating whether to open. Common sense told me that USC’s Troy Philippines—like any group of pinoys—operated on Filipino time, and so would be forgiving of my lateness. Common sense also said that Filipinos, in large numbers, spelled trouble. Members would be friendly to your face, gossipy behind your back. Officers, in the grand tradition of Filipino politicians, would be power-hungry and corrupt. The door parted, and some guy walked out, chatting on his cell. Not wanting to look dumb gazing at the door, I slipped into the darkened room. Warm bodies filled the seats but this did not
Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture was more like a Youtube Cultural Night. I wondered why this was so. How could the blood that bore Jose Rizal now give life to a generation of Filipinos whose loftiest goal was to star in viral videos? translate into a warm welcome. They all had their necks craned toward the projection screen, which appeared to be on to Youtube. In my anxious daydreaming, I had expected everyone to stare at me, but in many ways, the lack of notice was worse. After scanning for my only friend in vain, I took a seat in the way back. The video onscreen previewed the Mabuhay festival, a showcase of Filipino artists—mainly performers, and mainly performers from Youtube. As one of them beatboxed, Melissa sat by me. Immediately we set off to work on
the mission statement for our collective of Asian-American writers and poets. I fumbled for the notes I had cobbled together, and handed them over to her. I felt a bit nervous, as one of her comments had stayed with me, resonated. She had mentioned that FPAC—Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture—was really not what it purported to be. Rather, it was more like a Youtube Cultural Night. I wondered why this was so. How could the blood that bore Jose Rizal now give life to a generation of Filipinos whose loftiest goal was to star in viral videos? While I struggled with that question, I did not want to let in on just how much her off-hand comment affected me, as that would be weird. After she proofed my
notes, I typed: The editorial board of Epicanthic Literary Anthology aims to be...; and I said, “The editorial board of Epicanthic Literary Anthology aims to be...That doesn’t sound right. Is it the verb-subject agreement? Aims or aim?” She suggested it was our name. Epicanthic referred to the eye fold Asians have, but apparently people with Down syndrome had it, too. At this point, A.J. Rafael, a singer of Youtube fame, took the stage, and I thought: I’d rather be associated with them than him. He had a choice. Of course, I remained silent as he sang. Anyone that criticizes a viral star is dismissed as a hater. But I did not stare at him with hatred; in fact, I mostly watched the crowd. A few girls up front dramatically fanned themselves, as if about to pass out from their sexual excitement. Another danced coquettishly against her boyfriend, who, at that moment, probably appeared to her as A.J. Rafael. All of the other girls gawked, and their collective drool could have filled a pool. Was I just jealous of the attention? Every guy, no matter his profession, does secretly wish to inspire a loyal following of groupies. The most I got was my aunts telling me I was handsome, and that didn’t count, because they were required to say so. Did I really not care about our culture at all? I had trouble thinking it through. The idea of push-
spring 2010
ing A.J. Rafael off-stage dominated my mind. If I did so and read from one of my poems, would the pretty pinays cheer as loudly for me? Would the catcalls deafen? They might, I thought. But whether they’re celebrating the art or the artist, I would again not be sure. I reread “Youtube Cultural Night,” and knew it would never be published. It’s as if I were viewing a pointillist painting up close: I had concentrated on a single dot at the cost of not seeing the bigger picture. And that blip of a person was paranoid and self-involved, only looking to others, if those others were girls, and only girls who were passably pretty. That was me and only me, not Asian-America, whatever that even was. After killing the Red Bull, I turned to a topic that seemed to unite us all. I sipped more Red Bull, rubbed at my eye bags. Shuffling to the bedroom, I cursed the application process. Why did I have to get a PhD? If I still believed, as I once vehemently did, that you are not a bubble, then how could I devote a doctorate to studying ethnicity? Would that make the field, Bubbleology, and me, a Bubbleologist? I slid into bed, where my girlfriend lay, cocooned in the comforter. I made no attempt to embrace her, nor sneak into the blanket. I contemplated the ceiling, identified with its wasted space. My attempted article was only a fragment. The full story resided beyond the borders of ethnicity. For some godforsaken reason, the questions I sparred with daily made a night appearance, tormenting me further. They echoed in my mind as I tossed (“What are you?”) and turned (“Where were you born?”) and tossed (“What is your nationality?”) and turned (“Where are you from?”) Beside me, my girlfriend dreamed in perfect peace, oblivious to my own battle. Loaded as those questions were, I longed to hurl them back at the asker. I would boastfully claim that I am from the Philippines, land where an army of men with rocks and yo-yos drove the Spanish back into the sea, land of a thousand islands and a national hero who spoke as many languages, land of white beaches and brown women who drink beer as they pray to God. Unlike the present moment, I wanted to be heard. I wished to cause more than a rustle, maybe to wake someone up. Monzon is a graduate student at the University of Southern California.
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nuAsian spring 2010
What would you change about the Asian American community? by Nancy Lee
“I feel like a lot of times it’s really divided. The international Asian community is really separate from the Asian Americans, and I don’t feel like that’s really necessary. I feel people should just intermingle and be less cliquey.” Gina Chang, ’13, Weinberg
“I think getting other groups involved. I feel like I haven’t really been involved in lots of the Asian events and stuff.” Alexandra Roybel, ‘10, Weinberg
“Be a little bit more inclusive. I feel like it’s more of a clique, sometimes, here.” Tharsika Vimalesvaran, ’11, McCormick
“More food events. Because I do love my Chinese food, and I do love Asian food.” Karolina Kucybala, ’13, Weinberg
“There should be more integration, maybe, internally and externally. The Asian groups are still segregated amongst the Asian types, but more so than that, I think that there should be more integration, generally, with like, say, the African American students or Hispanic students, and that would be far more interesting. Ken Sasamura, ’11, Weinberg
nuAsian
spring 2010
Traditional Chinese dumplings by Emily Chow Makes 40-50 dumplings About 1 lb of ground pork 3 tbsp soy sauce 3 tbsp Chinese rice wine 3 tspn salt 3/4 cup of green onion 2 clove garlic (or 2 - to taste) 2 slices fresh ginger, minced 1/3 cup of sesame oil FILLING: Finely chop your garlic, ginger, bok choy and green onion. In a large bowl, combine the vegetables, soy sauce, rice wine, sesame oil and salt with the ground pork. Mix well. WRAPPING: Prepare a small bowl of water to seal dumplings.Place about one tablespoon of the filling in the middle of the dumpling wrapper. Wet the edges of the dumpling with water and fold the wrapper over the filling. Pinch the edges to seal. COOKING*�: Bring a large pot of water to boil. Add in about 10-12 dumplings each time. Stir them occasionally to keep them from sticking. When the water boils, add in half a cup of cold water. After the dumplings come to a boil again, drain and remove. To keep dumplings from sticking, lightly pour some sesame oil over the finished dumplings. *Dumplings can be frozen in a Ziploc bag for later.
Photos by Emily Chow
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