I Am Legend

After watching I Am Legend this Saturday, the storyline of the film reminded me a lot about our class theme of home.

Warning: Spoiler ahead

In the film, Will Smith and his dog, Sam, are the only survivors left in New York and possibly America after the spread of a deadly virus. The virus originated from a cure to cancer and affects humans by turning them into monstrous-aggressive creatures who in turn kill/infect other living things. When another survivor tells Smith about the possibility of a safe colony, Smith refuses to go because he wants to find a cure and fix America, his home. His home is so important to him that he chooses to face flesh-eating monsters and loneliness than to find sanctuary.

End of spoiler

The character played by Will Smith shows that one can sacrifice his/her life for the well being and continuation of their home. But what is home? For Smith, it was America? Does home only encompass someone's country? Or does it include other things of smaller scope?

I feel that the novels we read progressed from a narrow definition of home to home being defined as country and much more. Since our class is almost ending, I think that it is appropriate for me recap how the novels are linked to the theme of home and share my new ideas about home.

In The Namesake, Gogol distances himself from his parents' home because it is a constant reminder of his Indian culture and his name. Taken altogether, by distancing himself from home, he shuns his identity and attempts to create a new one he feels comfortable in. However, as he gains awareness of his Indian American identity, he finds it necessary to return home. Gogol's case shows that one's identity and home are closely knit together. A home allows one to find their true identity and to fully act out his/her identity.

Similarly, the narrator of The Gangster We Are All Looking For finds it necessary to return home, but for different reasons. As a child, the narrator was frequently moving; first from her native country, Vietnam, then from house to house in San Diego.

. In essence, the narrator's sense of home is something instrumental that helps in resolving problems and improving relationships. In either case, both protagonist reveal the necessity of returning home and the difficulty of leaving home forever.

Not only is it difficult for one to leave their home, but it's even more difficult for one to change their sense of home. Both My Country Versus Me and Obasan, novels based on historical events, show the static character of one's sense of home. Despite the accusations of being a Chinese spy, Wen Ho Lee still feels that America is his country and home. Even worse, is the treatment of Japanese Canadians during World War II. Yet, people like Obasan, Naomi, and Aunt Emily still consider Canada to be their home and country. Both of these examples show that one's tie to their home does not change easily. And both of these novels call for minorities to stand up and to take action, whether one form or another, in order to prevent someone or some force from changing their sense of home.

Oh Saigon Review

Oh, Saigon is a 2007 personal documentary by Vietnamese American director Doan Hoang about her family that is separated during the Fall of Saigon and her attempt to reunite her family after years of separation. Oh, Saigon was executive produced by Academy Award and Emmy winner, John Battsek. Oh, Saigon won prestigious film grants from the Sundance Institute Documentary Fund, ITVS, the Center for Asian American Media, and the Fund for Reconciliation and Development.

Airlifted out of Vietnam on April 30, 1975, Doan Hoang’s family was on the last civilian helicopter out of the country at the end of the war. Twenty-five years later, she sets out to uncover their story. The film follows her family as they return to Vietnam after decades of exile, where her father, a former South Vietnamese major, meets his brothers again to confront their political differences: one was a Communist, the other a pacifist. Meanwhile, Hoang tries to reconcile her own difficult past with her half sister, who was mistakenly separated from the family during the escape.

I went to a screening of Oh, Saigon at Berkeley the other day, and it's a layered, gorgeous film about the Vietnam War that stayed on my mind for a while. Afterwards, I found myself discussing it with my roomate and friends who I saw the film with for days. Things would occur to us later on about situations or characters in the film. The documentary shows a fairly normal family who are put in a really horrible situation during the end of the Vietnam War. The film displayed a sort of multi-tiered perspective of a family in a war where each of its members had a different set of choices and experiences that set them apart from each other.

Many years later, you see how members of this family act out or feel about these defining events in their lives, and see how they handle themselves and each other now. It made me think of what the people in war zones all around the world are going through, and how long their experiences will affect them and their children. This movie is not just about war, but there are sibling, mother/daughter, political/idealism, immigrant issues. It shows how people on the winning and losing sides feel. There's guilt, there's love. There are riveting, shocking and sad moments. There's humor and hope. It covered a lot of a film of its length, and was well-paced, well-edited, and really took me in. It's kind of unbelievable that what real people live through. Anyway, a great film, and I would highly recommend it.

I moved here with my family when I was 2 years old and so I don't recall anything from my true homeland. As much as I love America and am grateful for all of her opportunities, I have always felt like I had a missing link to my past. I think that Doan's film had everything that a movie could ask for - comedy, emotion, a beautiful in-depth story-line, and dramatic historical events.
This film was moving in that it addressed the turmoil of an internal war. A war after the war, so to speak. I was too young to remember, but I do know that wars can leave many different types of scars. I think the ones inflicted on this family are especially deep but I believe that time does heal some of the wounds. This film moved me and it brought out emotions that I also seek answer to within my family. My family really never discusses what happened as we made our way here.

Reflections on Obasan

After reading Obasan, I am glad that Chia-Chi and Christine chose this to be the last novel. I think this is the ideal novel to end the class because it ties in many themes of previous novels and class lectures. I was completely new to the historical context of Obasan. Before reading the novel, I heard of Japanese internment in the US, but I did not know that Japanese internment occurred in Canada. This last topic provoked a question. While reading Obasan, I asked myself, why are we reading about Japanese Canadians in an Asian American class?

I guess the answer to this question relates to the Wen Ho Lee case. Asians in non-Asian countries are seen as perpetual foreigners. Even Asians who are born in this country or in any other non-Asian country are continuously seen as outsiders. They are seen as outsiders because natives believe that Asians are more loyal to their ethnic country. Perhaps the most obvious explanation for the perception of Asians as perpetual foreigners, is the difference in appearance. Either way, if Asians are seen as perpetual foreigners, then they will never be accepted into the societies that they live in. Another issue addressed in Obasan, is racial profiling. All Japanese Canadians were seen as spies simply because they were Japanese. I guess we are reading about Asian Canadians in an Asian American class to be aware that mistreatment of Asians can occur anywhere.

A dialogue between Aunt Emily and Naomi was strikingly interesting to me. Aunt Emily points out that Germans can kill and relocate people because Germany is an authoritarian state and asks, how could this be happening in Canada-- a democracy? This excerpt was particularly alarming because I observed that internment in Canada was not that different from the ghettoes of Germany, except for the mass genocide. This historical example shows that this could happen to any of us. Thus, this is a call for a cohesive Asian identity and a call to action. Aunt Emily's character illustrates the importance of political involvement in order to have a say on government policies.

Perhaps the biggest obstacles for a cohesive Asian identity are inter-Asian animosities and passivity. One example of inter-Asian animosities is between Chinese and Japanese. Some Chinese children are instilled with the idea that the Japanese are bad people. These children are told about how Japanese soldiers ransacked villages, killed men, and raped women. It is no wonder that it is difficult for some Chinese to care about the welfare of Japanese or let alone be included under a same identity: Asian. Another prominent obstacle for an Asian identity is passivity. As children, most of us are taught to stay out of people's business because this will only bring trouble upon ourselves. Therefore, it's not hard to believe the inaction of some minority groups during the Japanese internment. But by allowing this to occur, we are indirectly approving the actions of the wrongdoers and allowing the possibility for this to happen again.

Hyphen

Place Hyphen magazine next to some of the more established Asian publications in the United States and several things immediately distinguish it: First, it’s in English, which identifies its audience as primarily American-born. Second, it sports an artsy, unconventional design that further defines its audience as young and hip. Finally, the content—which spans pop culture, politics and social commentary—is doing more than simply selling an image and its advertisements like so many identity-driven niche publications today.
The staff of Hyphen Magazine

The target is younger Asians who speak English as a first language and are as familiar with punk rock as they are with bok choy. Yes, we’re Asian. But we’re American too, and these are the issues that we think about. Hyphen was released in early 2003 partly due to the folding of A. magazine—a glossy lifestyle monthly that was aimed primarily at an educated 35-and-under Asian American readership, preferably with disposable income to boot. With its image-driven emphasis on celebrity, fashion and trends, A. magazine lasted for an impressive 13 years before shutting down in 2002.

Hyphen emphasizes news oriented, more critical, more focused on social justice issues. This is a publication out there that reflected progressive Asian Americans. Hyphen’s all-volunteer staff has the persistence to raise money on its own to spread its Asian American ideas. They run as a non-profit venture rather and most of the staff also have experience in “progressive” areas like community organizing, teaching, and underground arts. People in the magazine seem to be doing it because they really want to do the magazine. On a societal level, they seek to combat complacency and redefine what it means to be Asian American. On an industry level, they seek to be a thought-leader in the mainstream media. On another level, they seek to produce revelatory journalism that profiles, explores, and illuminates the lives, culture and politics of Asian America.”

Some might find the tone of the magazine harsh and confrontational compared to other Asian media in the United States. It’s important to examine things that aren’t always going to be pretty. There’s a tendency among older Asian Americans to only expose what’s nice. Ironically, the most popular pieces in are on looking back on political and cultural awakening.

In addition to probing political and social justice questions, Hyphen places heavy emphasis on its pan-Asian scope. It is part of a small, but growing number of media that transcend the divisions of separate Asian ethnicities. Multiculturalism is very important. It is important to present a united Asian front that translates into more power politically.

Rather than focus strictly on issues of politics or ethnic identity, however, they try to appeal to the broader tastes of popular culture. The goal behind all this is that we want to be a catalyst for change in the community. There are a large number of young people out there who are apathetic about things and the world Asian Americans live in. While this could be said about mainstream Americans, it’s particularly annoying to me when that person is Asian, considering all our community has been through historically.

To be passive, or not to be...

So, since we're on the topic of Wen Ho Lee...

I have been thinking a lot about the role of the Asian American community in politics. Asian Americans have only recently received the right to vote in comparison to our nation's history, and it is both appalling that it took so long for us to get here, and at the same time it is amazing that we have such a power to participate. I remember when I first became interested in politics--the California recall election, the results of which I mourn everyday (funny fact, Schwarzenegger used to work out in a gym that is super close to my house). I rooted for Peter Camejo, a Green party candidate who had no chance. With my obsession with Peter, I became enthralled in the world of politics, and the idea of making a change.

I even made it a point to convince my entire family to vote. I was successful with my older sister and my dad. My mom, on the other hand, was a lost cause. She refuses to vote. I still to this day make a point to say "you know, mom, if you don't vote, you can't really complain about who's in charge." You know, just to get her thinking about being more active. I suppose her reasons for not voting have to do with her apathy towards the political system, or maybe just the idea that one vote will not make a difference. Or maybe she doesn't trust herself to be a part of the decision making process. Who knows. Point being, my mom is what we would call an example of the passive Asian American stereotype.

Wen Ho Lee stayed out of politics because he didn't want to cause any trouble. He just wanted to live out the American dream in peace and quiet and the company of his family. I don't think the reason for my mom's apathy is the same as Wen Ho Lee's. I don't think all Asians who don't vote have the same reason for not participating in politics (if in fact they are in the majority that do not participate), but somehow collectively we have drawn attention towards this stereotype that we are all passive.

Wen Ho Lee made a point at the end of his book to say that he hopes his children's generation is more politically active than himself, or his own generation. I initially criticized this statement, but upon second thought I am beginning to think: Maybe Wen Ho Lee's generation could not have afforded to be in the spotlight of political activity to get where they did. Maybe it is the responsible of the next generation to make a comeback in the political world and to change the stereotype that has become us. My generation of Asian Americans lives in a world where we are sitting on the shoulders of those before us, like Newton once said, and we have the freedom to speak out if necessary, without worrying about our simple states of well-being and economic security. I feel pretty lucky to be able to get a college education, and that my parents can pay for it. I also feel like I have been given a chance to make a difference--so maybe I will.

If anyone knows, CARLOS KNOWS!

“Middle Eastern people you guys are upset, that’s cool. Complain to white people though. They are going to sympathize with you. Yeah, not us Blacks and beaners though, leave us alone. We are the last people you want to bring that too.
‘But you don’t understand they are looking at me funny because of the way I look. Racial profiling!’ said in a “Middle Eastern” accent.
Welcome to the club Mohammed!”

This exert was taken from a stand up comedy special by the controversial Carlos Mencia, a Honduran-American comedian. In the special, Mencia takes on the topic of race and racism in a post 9/11 world. In his in-your-face, apologize for nothing manner, Mencia strikes an interesting point.

“And you see everyone got picked on, everyone had a good time. But no. This is what people are afraid of; us enjoying making fun of each other… we go too far with this stuff. We go too far with political correctness… but apparently it’s not ok to have a sense of humor. No, that’s not cool. Because instead of uniting America we want to separate each other because Mexicans eat tacos and white people eat beef stroganoff and black people each fried chicken.
‘That makes us different,’ said in a satirical tone of voice.
‘No that makes you hungry… You see America is a giant game of tag. first it was the blacks. Then the Mexicans. And now its Middle Eastern people. Eventually, every race is going to be picked on for the stupid shit a handful of people did. But that’s just the way it is.”

This brings me to My Country Versus Me. Mencia would easily attribute what happened to Wen Ho Lee as Asian Americans being used as a scapegoat by mass media and the country as a whole. Top secret information was leaked to Chinese officials, who would do such a thing? A Chinese man! In the book, Lee goes on to describe how white counterparts, who visited China just as frequently and could have just as likely leaked the information, were free of suspicion. He also goes on to describe how the media proceeded to use tactics so as to convince the public of Lee’s involvement.
And as we have learned in class this year, this is the first time Asians have been used as scapegoats. First there was the Chinese in California during the gold rush which leads to the Chinese exclusion act. Later it is the Japanese and the Gentlemen’s Agreement at the turn of the twentieth century. Then it is Filipinos like Carlos Bulosan. Then back to Japanese after Pearl Harbor. Then Vietnamese during the Vietnam War. Koreans during the Korean War. The list goes on and on. And then who’s going to be next? Will it be North Korea and Kim Jong-il? Or how about China and its poor human rights history in dealing with Tibet and Burma, as is manifested in the protests against the 2008 Beijing Olympics?
Mencia is convinced that this game of tag is a necessary part of society because we are human, and we naturally look for someone to blame when things don’t go our way. But Mencia argues that instead of resulting to violence as in the case of Vincent Chin or Wen Ho Lee, we resolve our issues with comedy. As much as I would want something like this to work, I don’t think that the rest of America would be satisfied with making an Osama Bin Laden or Kim Jong-il joke.

Racial Profiling

Racial profiling seems to be very common within our nation. Racial profiling has become second nature to most people because we readily make inferences about people and it is really hard to prevent that fact. It is almost a subconscious thought process that pretty much everyone has. It's kind of hard to protest against something that even you cannot help but do yourself. When airport security guards stop Middle-eastern looking people for "random" security checks, we think it is unjust. And it is. But most of us cannot deny that we get slightly suspicious when we see a Middle-easterner, especially at the airport. When we all have been traumatized by 9/11, and force-fed all the news about Al-Qaeda, we unfortunately have imprinted into our minds the image of people in the Middle East blowing themselves up. This is why racial profiling is so hard to fight against, and still exists strongly today.

Racial profiling--it's wrong, no matter how useful and helpful it is for the government or the nation. But is it even advantageous at all? I mean, if I were a foreign government sending in spies, I would send in the least suspicious individuals, i.e. those who don't look like people from my country. I would look for individuals who are in need of money, and are not necessarily loyal to the country on. There is no question that bribery is all powerful. No matter how terrible the act, someone will always do it for the correct amount of money. So almost certainly the American government's unwritten racial profiling policy is just wasted time and energy.
Yes, Clinton's administration felt they had to prove the GOP wrong, and perhaps show the American public that something was being done about China, but they had no cause to use racial profiling as their sole policy.

In the case of Wen Ho Lee, it was racial profiling to the extreme. I cannot believe how the government could single out one Chinese person with no real evidence, and take over his entire life, seemingly creating evidence as it went. How could so many ridiculously unjust things go on in the very government that is created for the people, by the people? No matter how many checks and balances there are, the corruption of power will always exist.

Now it is entirely possible that Lee was exaggerating a bit. It is understandable how having your life ruined would spur you to get sweet revenge. But I believe Lee is telling the complete truth. While it is crazy what the government did, I think a major reason why they so relentlessly attacked Lee again and again was the fact that he couldn't defend himself. With English as his second language, he couldn't say much more than "uh, um... I'm innocent", as evidenced in the section where he wrote down the exact conversation he had with the FBI. After reading that section, I could see that the language barrier was a significant reason why the FBI couldn't see the evidence for his innocence. I felt that if he had the ability to speak as he did in the book (with the help of Helen Zia), he would have been found innocent much earlier.

Hyphen's newest journalist

I want to talk about a topic we talked about early on in the semester. What constitutes Asian American literature? Where is the line drawn? Do half Asian half Caucasian writers still count? What about writers who are only one fourth Asian? Does Hyphen magazine have a criteria its writers must meet in order to be published, or can anyone write about their experiences?

My grandmother’s name is Yufei Li. She was born in Hanzhou China, a small village outside of Shanghai. Growing up, there were many pull and push factors in the reasons for her departure from China. Times were rough and the family was struggling to get by in a time when the whole world was feeling the impact of the Great Depression of the United States. A small bright spot in the world was the booming agricultural sector in the Caribbean, specifically Cuba. With a decrease in cheap labor from African countries, companies looked to new sources of cheap labor. Thus resulted the migration of my grandmother’s family to Cuba. But years later when the Cuban revolution began to gain power and become a serious threat to succeed in installing a communist regime in Cuba, my grandmother decided to leave and seek refuge in Central America. First they traveled to Mexico, then Belize, and then finally settling in El Salvador. There my grandmother met and married Silvestre Salinas, my grandfather. Since that day she arrived in El Salvador, my grandmother was completely devoid of her Chinese culture. Part of her family was still in China, another part in Cuba, and only but a cousin with her in El Salvador. She no longer spoke Chinese, instead learning to speak Spanish. Instead of cooking traditional Chinese meals, rice and beans dominated her cuisine. My mother eventually ended up marrying Raul Arteaga, a Salvadorian. As it was, my mother didn’t speak of word of Chinese, and the only tie to China she had were the stories my grandmother would tell her. So for the most part, I felt myself as being 100% Salvadorian. Outside a strong affinity for Chinese food and a couple of Chinese friends during high school, Chinese culture had been absent from my life.

Both of my grandparents are Salvadorian. Both of my parents are Salvadorian. Everyone in my family as far as I know is Salvadorian. I was born and raised in Daly City, a city with an unusually high population of Filipinos. Growing up, most of my friends were Filipino. 80% of my middle school was Filipino. In high school I participated in all of my friends Debuts. Along the lines I even managed to pick up some Tagalog, the most popular dialect spoken by Filipinos. Everything about my life was Filipino, except for the fact that I was born Salvadorian.

So what if both of these backgrounds were brought to the editors of Hyphen magazine? Do both backgrounds constitute Asian American experiences? Or do both backgrounds constitute as something completely different?

Kabba Modern

During spring break, my friend from UC Irvine came back home to San Jose. And of course being from UC Irvine, she knows a lot about Kabba Modern and also Jabbawockeez. To give her some background, she is Vietnamese and she is also in a dance crew down there. She currently dances in MCIA, which is an abbreviation for Modern Completely Insane Anteaters. MCIA is a relatively big dance crew and have also grown quite popular. They even perform for the Los Angeles Clippers game every year during halftime which means that they reach a population outside their University.
Well, my friend tells me that there is a vast amount of students who do hip hop in Irvine. She talks about it as if it is the thing to do. I guess her view is kind of biased since she is a dancer, but it amazes me how much time she is able to commit to dancing. She then talks about Kabba Modern and how amazing they are. It seems that Kabba Modern is a highly selective dance crew and is apparently the best dance crew in Irvine according to my friend. She talks about how they have become known in both the international and national scale for hip hop. It seems that the style they show on America’s Best Dance Crew is very limited since the whole team is a lot bigger than five people. They range on styles just like how Movement at Berkeley showcases Jazz, Swing, Hip Hop, Lyrical, etc … It is just apparently just that the five people who are competing and representing Kabba Modern specialize in isolations, popping and other dance moves. Kabba Modern was also originally a branch from the Phillipino Club on the UC Irvine campus and it just split of and became just its own exclusive dance club. Kabba Modern is not selective on what ethnicity the person is, just as long as the person can dance. Apparently though, UCI contains a huge population of Asians who dance.
So apparently the five people who represent Kabba Modern on television are alumni or seem to be taking a quarter off to participate in the show. This shows the dedication these students have for dancing and it is awesome that they are able to communicate through dance. It also seems that Kabba Modern is very intense as they train almost everyday and practice ranges from most of the night leading into an all nighter for practices. This shows that being a member of the group must be a big time commitment, but they are able to be in a renown dance crew.

You can be the next victim!

After reading Wen Ho Lee's account of his incident, one of his messages reverberated in my mind. Before he begins to describe the details leading to his arrest, he states, "I want everyone to know that if these incredible things happened to me, they can happen again, to any American" (13). Looking back at these words in hindsight, I feel that they should not be taken carelessly. Lee chronicles his experience to warn Americans, especially those of color, that anyone can be a scapegoat for the government when the time is ripe.

Before reading this narrative, I have never heard of Wen Ho Lee, not even in my AP US History class or AP Government class. Perhaps, it is my ignorance that prevented me from learning about this controversial figure. Or perhaps, Americans are too embarrassed about this horrific mistake that they do not mention it in public. Either way, by just hearing of it, even though it was a recent event, makes it frightening.

Frightening can be an understatement for the power that the government exercise. Frightening is the way in which Lee was kept in custody even though he was presumed under law --from the land of freedom and opportunity-- to be innocent. Frightening is the way in which Janet Reno "coincidentally" appointed a Chinese American to prosecute Lee (6). Frightening is the way in which the FBI, a prestigious and organized institution, lost files and had to "reconstruct" the information (26). Frightening is the way in which agents of the government distort information to incarcerate an innocent man. Frightening is having a country turn against a life-long patriot and contributor of defense.

In addition, it is frightening and humiliating for one's face to be printed with ESPIONAGE on the front page of prominent newspapers. In class, we had a discussion about the limited appearance of Asian Americans in the media. From this incident, I guess the only way for Asian Americans to prominently appear on print media is through notoriety.

After reading this narrative, I was somewhat infuriated. Even though all the evidence suggested that Lee was innocent, he was still convicted and incarcerated for 278 days. Although a cliche, the time he lost is priceless. Even after his release, one can be certain that he and his loved ones were emotionally scarred.

This incident highlights the importance for a cohesive Asian American identity. If not so, Asian Americans should alienate themselves from national laboratories or just patiently wait to be the next victim on the cover of a newspaper. A cohesive Asian American identity may provide the needed political support to prevent similar incidents from occurring.

Don't forget to check the box...

For some reason, it's always okay when Russell Peters does it. As all of us with a soft side for racial comedy know, Russell Peters treats blacks, whites, asians, and latinos the same--by mocking them. For everyone other than Russell Peters, it's only okay to do it if you are making fun of your own race. If an asian makes fun of a latino, it's not funny--it's racist. My question is, why do we make fun of our own race?

The question at hand stems from my current facebook status. To make a long story short, I was in a rush to class on Friday when I did not notice the disastrously curled up mat in front of the entrance to Dwinelle. Needless to say, I tumbled and walked away with a few regretful bruises. (I know, I know, embarrassing, much?) So, my facebook status now reads: Jenny is a banana. Yellow on the outside, white on the inside, and bruises easily!

I have never prided myself on being superrrrr asian, having been born here and not knowing how to speak Chinese very well, so I guess I like to joke that even though I am Chinese American, I am more American than Chinese. However, some others will say the opposite. Some find it acceptable to mock their "chinky" eyes or habitual bowl of rice in the morning. Hence, it's not a matter of one identity being more "acceptable" than the other. American Asians and Asian Americans alike, it seems no one feels inadequate in their upbringing. This would be different if it was considered more "acceptable" to be Americanized or vice versa, but everyone seems to be simply defending their cultural background no matter what it is. This is not an issue of strengthening one's minority status, especially from what I have seen living amongst one of the largest Asian populations in the country.

So why do we do it? It's not that we don't have other things to joke about. I could have just as easily joked about my persistent clumsiness than about a fruit of apparently 2 races (haha).

I would like to suggest an answer at this time. And please, if any of you have others, chime in. Remember taking standardized tests, ohh so long ago, at your public high school? What box did you check? Did you feel comfortable with the box you checked? If there had been more choices, do you feel there could have been a choice that better fit the "category" you deserve to be under?

I want to argue that it is this constant categorization our society has become accustomed to that has brought us here, and has brought me to joke about my existence being akin to a bi-colored fruit. We always have to fit into a category--whether it is race, a geographical region, or even a specific age group (has anyone seen the episode of Sex & the City where Carrie is horrified because she no longer fits into the 18-25 age group, but now has to check 26-35?)

Whether you are of a multitude of ethnic origins or are simply caught between American and Asian culture like me, it puts pressure on us to fit into a certain box, per se, or even to fit into a certain stereotype. The Asian American who eats rice everyday but does not speak their native language, or the Asian American who is ethnically Chinese but is obsessed with Japanese culture, etc. feels alienated. What we need to do is stop categorizing people, and eventually, maybe people will not feel the need to categorize themselves.

A Different Perspective on Asian American Males

As an Asian American male, I feel the need to provide a different viewpoint from Ali, not only to defend my own ethnicity and sex, but also because the following words embody what I think. With this, I do not hope to offend anyone or start a "battle of the sexes."

While reading Ali's post, many thoughts and questions arose. Before I begin to express my opinions, I have a few questions for Ali and everyone else in this blog to consider.

If "Asian American men do not seem that strong," how do you see your father and other Asian American male relatives or friends? Do you think they are weak?

And if the media portrays Asian American males in "stereotypes," what do you make of the exotic Asian women -- dressed in kimonos, at massage parlors -- in the media? Do you consider this to be a "dominant role?" Does this image elicit the same "weirdness" or has its pervasiveness made it a norm?

I do not think Asian American males are insecure or lack confidence. Rather, the culture in which they grew up has taught them that the strongest man is the one with countless achievements and unmeasurable humbleness. On discussing the nature of Asian males, I find it necessary to incorporate the article, "Interracial Dating at Yale."

Kai Thaler, author of the article, argues that "you don't often see Asian guys with non-Asian girls [because] Asian guys have no game." Although Thaler is a Yale student, he does not consider the roles of culture and tradition in shaping Asian males' preference for women. Instead of having no game, Asian males may have a great sense of responsibility. Reared in traditions and cultures that stress the importance of passing on the family name within the same race, Asian males may feel responsible to date females of the same ethnicity.

Since I was not able to attend class this Monday, I am taking this opportunity to express my overall impressions of this article. After first reading it, I was shocked that Yale Rumpus was associated with a prestigious institution like Yale. Thaler, not only debases Asian men, but he follows the same suit for women by stating obscene and derogatory statements about them. For example, Thaler implies that female college students frequent fraternities, in their "sluttiest clothes," to get ass. However, the jejuneness does not end here. One of Rumpus' goal is to solve the mystery concerning the color of black women's vagina. Lacking originality, Thaler even decides to use something of great historical importance to create a comedic situation. He describes interracial couples as Martin Luther King's "wet dream." In addition, he simplifies King's dream to "little mocha babies." These obscenities and ridicule are vulgar and should be vanished. To conclude, I feel that the personnel of Yale University should take more action to limit the publication of such material.

A Day with Theater Rice

Watching Theater Rice's Collide-O-Scope reminded me of the the film and discussion we had in class. I will only point out some of the relevant topics broadly since the rest is for extra credit.

At first, I was not accustomed to seeing a majority of actors to be Asian. This odd feeling stressed an argument of the film about the rarity of Asians appearing on mainstream media. Personally, I felt that some of Theater Rice's actors are really talented. Producers and directors who are afraid, out of financial concerns, to put Asian actors in their works are preventing this talent from being put on screen. To change the latter, I guess Asians would have to create their own opportunities by collaborative means (such as Theater Rice) and through exposure. And for money-seeking producers and directors, their dreams of wealth all depend on their willingness to experiment. After all, no one knew that Halle Berry and Denzel Washington would become Oscar winners.

Also in the play was a reminder of the stereotype of Asians in kung-fu roles. Although it seems that Theater Rice chose to fit this stereotype by choosing to film ninjas, the ninjas deviated far from the ideal image of a ninja. Instead of shooting ninja stars and assassinating people stealthily, the ninjas (played by actors) , appeared out of contexts in buildings such as Dwinelle. Perhaps, the goal of Theater Rice was to break the stereotype through levity and comedy.

Another instance in which I felt Theater Rice disclaim stereotypes was in their main film: Darkness, My Old Friend. Darkness, My Old Friend is about a girl who is infatuated with objects. She lives with her family, who include her domesticated father, White mother, and ignored brother. Instead of being the typical Asian family, there are great variations in this one. For one, the marriage between the parents is interracial. This fits into our class theme of interracial marriage and stratification by race. Although the parents seem to be equal, there is a role reversal for the male counterpart; the father does most of the cooking. In traditional Asian families, it can be argued, parents pay more attention to their sons than their daughters. Take The Namesake as an example. Sonia is rarely mentioned and often lives in Gogol's shadow. In the film, the opposite occurs. At dinner, all the attention is given to the daughter while the son is basically ignored, until he confesses that he is gay.

My experiences at my first Theater Rice show tell me that the possibilities for more Asian American actors are not limited as long as individuals create opportunities for themselves and work towards dispelling inaccurate portrayals about their race.

"Hey! Be a man! Do the right thing!"

I’ve never really given the portrayal, or lack of, of Asians, or minorities for that matter, in mainstream media much consideration. But after watching the film in class, I’m left with a quite disturbing feeling. Whether it’s the portrayal of Asians as slightly effeminate-kung-fu fighters like Jackie Chan, or Latinos as drug-dealing-gangsters in Training Day, or of Eddie Murphy as a loud-overweight-extremely rude woman in Norbit, minorities definitely get the short end of the stick when it comes to movie roles.

“Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?”

I mean sure Jackie Chan is a multimillionaire with plenty of hit movies, but the fact still remains that he always plays the same stereotypical role. While most of his movies are action-filled, they invariably end up becoming comedies. For most of the movie, we are laughing at, not with, Jackie Chan. I know this is similar to what the movie mentioned, but it stuck with me as particularly disturbing.

“Vato you won’t believe what I saw. I saw these pack a guys and they act real hard. They
twisted their fingers say you know who we are...”

Stereotypes for minorities don’t just stay confined to movies either. The lyrics above are from a Snoop Dog song titled Vato, in which B-Real, a Mexican-Cuban rapper from the group Cypress Hill, glorifies being a gangster and the “street-life.” You would figure that someone who almost died from a gunshot wound to the lung wouldn’t be so happy with the street-life mentality of gangsters. The ironic point of it all is that many rappers get their big break for telling about their harrowing stories growing up in the ghetto. Think of Tupac’s “Brenda’s Got a Baby,” or “Juicy” by Notorious BIG. These songs were politically and socially charged. They tackled social issues of teen pregnancy and urban poverty. They brought to the forefront all that was wrong with urban America. And while they became hit singles in their own right, things changed between freshmen and sophomore albums for such artists. Somewhere along the line it was no longer acceptable to bring up such issues as poverty or racism in music, and music became more mainstream. Soon songs like “Hit Em’ Up” began beaming out of stereos across America. Now we get B-Real telling us it’s ok to be a gangster. Tupac instructs us to “Grab your glocks when you see Tupac.”

In class we argued that Asians get stuck with these shitty roles because there is a lack of action on all parts involved. Actors and screenwriters don’t bring quality stuff to the table. Directors and head of movie agencies are afraid to put a minority at center stage. And audiences aren’t really ready to see Jet Li kiss Aaliyah.

But I think it is much more one sided than that. Much like Tupac early on, actors and screenwriters ARE bringing media that is controversial and that challenge the stereotypes held by America. And audiences out there ARE willing to accept politically charged movies like Spike Lee’s “Do the Right Thing.” The problem lies with the studios. The people in charge are much more concerned with filling their pockets with money than with tackling social issues. Why take the chance and back a movie that may challenge mainstream media and result in a millions of dollars in lost revenue, when you could have “Rush Hour 4?”

Why not?

After closing the book, A Gesture Life left an imprint in my memory that I don't think I can ever leave behind. The beginning of the book was misleading to me because I never expected to find between those two covers the compelling story of Korean comfort women. As the plot began to describe the life of a senile Japanese man in an ordinary town, I didn't think this book would be as interesting or as honest a portrayal of Asian American experiences. I would like to say at this point that I think I was wrong.

I attribute it to my public school upbringing that I was used to hearing derogatory sexual innuendos from boys with raging hormones in middle school, and became numb when it came to hearing disrespectful comments towards women, which most people joked about for an easy laugh. This is not saying that I grew up in some sex-raged environment of public school children, but I am certain most people will agree with me that it is not uncommon for teenagers in high school to joke about prostitution and other sexual matters lightly. Not until I read this book concerning the seriousness of the Korean comfort women and their use as prostitutes have I felt so strongly against making such jokes. Perhaps it has to do with a lack of education in these matters, but the fact is people just don't take it seriously enough that we should not joke about prostitution or any other derogatory sexual natures towards women, considering what the past has shown us. Prostitution is not the answer to solve any problem, including unmet needs for soldiers in war. The emotional outcome following is not erasable and it is much more of a problem to rehabilitate women like this than to simply avoid it to begin with.

The sheer description of the coffin-like bed for the women to lie on in the book is enough to make my heart fall into my stomach. I don't think I will ever forget this image in my mind. I will not repeat it just for the sake of avoiding the painful experience over again, but hopefully all of you have read this and will keep it in mind as a lesson learned from the past that should not be repeated in the future. The simple thought of legalizing prostitution after reading this book is disgusting, while some would make the argument that those girls will do it anyways, and legalizing the service would make it safer. I would compare it to the likes of legalizing suicide--why condone something that no one should do to themselves in the first place?

I also find it interesting that I never had much of an exposure to this part of history until college. I suppose I had heard about it in passing in U.S. History, but not in as much depth as I have gotten in a university. My question is, why are schools not teaching the importance of respect for women (to both teenage boys AND girls, especially girls with low self-esteem) and the background of such prostitution in high school? After all, for those who make it to college, chances are in their favor that they will not end up on the streets, mindlessly selling their bodies or thinking that derogatory jokes of sexual nature are okay. We need to be teaching this stuff at an earlier age, where it really matters and where it will really get to the kids who may end up needing this information, not college kids who obviously have a good understanding of this concept. By ensuring a certain level of self-respect out of their students, a school would most definitely save itself from high drop out rates and contributing to kids on the streets. So, why not?

Asian American males

Asian American men to me do not seem that strong. I guess it is society that has influenced me, but I just don’t see the dominant Asian American man. Often times I feel Asian American men can be rather insecure with themselves and don’t have that confidence as with Asian American females. I could be totally false in my assumption, but I just don’t see as confident Asian American males.
When I truly think about this aspect though, I feel maybe that Asian Americans media has really influenced me. There are nerdy awkward white people too. When I think about the mold that Asian American males portray, I see that white guys can play a similar role. There are white guys that aren’t all jocks and are super athletic and masculine.
I think that when I associate people I see in the media, I think that Asian Americans usually don’t get the dominant role. Often times, I see the lead is played by a white guy. When I think about famous white actors, I can think of many of them. It seems that in the media, I do see very few Asian American men play pivotal roles in a movie. Usually though, when I do see them, I really admit that they are associated with martial arts, awkwardness, and other stereotypes. When I try to think of an Asian American male playing a regular person, it seems very hard for me to come up with an actor. Even I find myself kind of weird for an Asian American male to be onscreen. I guess the media has influenced me as to who I expect to play certain roles.
But I have to say that even with the weirdness of seeing Asian American males onscreen, I feel this sense of pride that they have reached the screen. When I see Asian American males, I still feel happy that they are in the media regardless. It just gets the face of Asian American males more in the media which in time, may become a more regular thing to see Asian American males onscreen. With this time, the weirdness of see Asian American males onscreen will disappear and will lead to more roles for these struggling Asian American males.
Outside of looking at Asian American males in the media, I view Asian American males as normal people. They truly don’t all follow stereotypes as the media portrays. Especially with the changing culture, Asian Americans males seem to be exploring new avenues of the world as time passes. Depending on the background the Asian American males come from, their personality can very tremendously like every other person in the world. It just takes opening your own mind to realize how many other things Asian American males are really doing. Even though you may see a lot of Asian American males doing a certain activity, I bet you can find other Asian American doing other activities though it may be less in numbers. Asian American males just have to break the mold and with time, I think that people will see Asian American males in a different perspective outside of their stereotypes.

being P.C. is not easy...

Following my entry from last week, I am quite pleased that this week's open discussion was heated and incorporated everyone's opinions into the discussion. It is just these kinds of discussions that I feel we should be having more of in an Asian American Studies class. I think that it just took a topic that affects everyone's daily lives to get people talking, and I wish we could have continued the discussion for a longer time. So much so, that I have more to say.

Talking about Asian Americans as the "model minority" got me to thinkin'. First of all, I am pretty sure that I don't have all the facts necessary to comprehend what makes Asians the model minority, or how we compare to other groups in terms of immigration and levels of success. However, I do know from seeing friends I have grown up with that many Asians suffer from similar levels of poverty and racism as other groups, yet many (or most, I would even dare to say) find some way to rise up beyond the circumstances dealt to them and achieve higher levels of success through each new generation. That is to say, I have met many Asian families who lived in Oakland upon entering the states, manage to put their children through school, and their children are able to attend a university and find a decent to well paying job. Most commonly where I live, this second generation of Asian Americans move to the wealthy suburb of Alameda called Bay Farm Island and live comfortably in their two-story homes with a Lexus or two in the driveway.

And then I think about Oakland, the city I grew up so close to, yet it is so far away from the world I live in. "Underprivileged," "minority," "disadvantaged," "low-income," "underrepresented." All words you hear when we talk about Oakland, right? Especially at Cal, we are all aware of this issue in the city not-so-far-away. We even have a plethora of volunteer organizations aimed at the (insert adjective from above here.) We all know equally as well that when we talk about Oakland, we have to talk about the African American status quo. My question is, what is it about the many Asian Americans who have made it out of difficult economic circumstances that makes them different from the many African Americans who are having such a hard time getting out? I do acknowledge that there are many different circumstances, regardless of racial group, but in speaking about these groups in a whole, I think it is necessary to note ethnic trends among the whole.

I must admit that in today's society of "politically correct" (P.C.) and "not" I was and am still a bit nervous to mention race in such a bold topic, but I feel that it is significant enough to discuss or simply touch upon. I just feel that, no matter how much we would like to step away from stereotypes and statistical observations, we cannot ignore what is before us. And what I am seeing, and I'm sure many others can see too, is that somehow, some way, there is something different about many of the Asian Americans that immigrate here that helps us rise up in a very short amount of time. Perhaps it is circumstances upon immigration, educational background, educational drive, or a difference in upbringing. Who knows. Maybe the Asians have something they can teach the African Americans, and all would be well. For now, we don't know what makes us the "model minority," and we cannot answer the age old question of why Asian Americans do not qualify for affirmative action. I'm not sure this was as coherent as I wanted it to be, or as well-written. Maybe I was afraid to say most of what I had in mind when I started this because of fear this blog would not be "P.C." Or maybe just short on time. But hopefully I was able to probe a few key thoughts out of you.

Moving & Family

I grew up in many places when I was young. I was constantly moving not understanding why my parents had to move so much. I also never truly questioned my parents for the reasons they moved. I just accepted that I had to leave the place I was living at and hopefully move on to bigger and better things. Now that I think about the reasons I moved, I wonder if it was because of lack of financial stability, trying to be closer to other family member, congregating to other Vietnamese communities, or just to find a better life.

The thing about moving was that I often saw the differences between the places I moved to. I still remember being in a cramped apartment with my parents trying to fit a family of five into a one bedroom place. To me, when I think about life back then, I truly don’t think it was that bad. I didn’t mind not having my own room like I do now. I just accepted that this is how life was supposed to be. I found comfort in the fact of how close my family was to me in the small apartment. I enjoyed life even though my parents were working constantly back then. When I think about life now, my parents still seem to be constantly working. Even though our living situation has improved, it seems that we are still saving our money to be financially stable. It also seems that I cherish the moments with my parents more in a sense. They had to do less stuff with the apartment compared to the house now. We had less chores and more time be with family. Now I feel like there is always something to do in fixing our own house. It seems that having a bigger place makes us spend a lot more time on the house than with each other.

When I think about time with family, I seem to take it for granted. I truly love my family. They matter the most to me and yet it seems that I spend very little time with them. My life right now is filled with school, friends and events. I always have places to be and things to do. It seems that I often use school as an excuse for everything. I have to agree I am paying a lot of money for education and since I am paying a lot of money for school, I should do well in school. The hard part of school is staying focused on the material you are learning because school is not the only thing in your life. There are so many things in the world and events happening that it is hard to concentrate. It seems that a person usually compensates the time in school with the fun events that happen around them. With these events, you find friends and find a place to socialize. It also takes to time for friendship to develop and become deep. It seems that you have to work at staying close to people since that is the definition of friendship. With all this time spent outside of family, I often wonder when there is the time to spend it with family.

When I think about it, I really enjoy the time my family spends together. Even though my mind does wonder to other future events that I will be spending with my friends, I realize that it is nice having my family there to be with me. There is this special bond with my family that I will never have with other people. I know that my family will always be there no matter what I do. It seems that in a sense, my goals are truly to satisfy my family. Even with all the crazy antics of life, my family is the most important aspect to my life.

Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde

What's in a name? In The Namesake, Gogol goes through a major transformation through a name change. Was his transformation solely a result of his name change? In class, the student group presenting on the Namesake asked how people felt about changing their names and if anyone of us had ever changed our names. While I've never technically, or legally, changed my name, I feel like I've been through a similar transformation as Gogol. Throughout my life the people close to me have fit into one of two categories: those who know me as Los and those who know me as Carlos. I know it sounds a little bipolar, which I’m not (at least I don’t think I am), but the two are radically different.

Los

Athletic – Played football, basketball, and baseball in high school.

Charismatic – Life of the party.

Confident – Doesn’t second-guess self and takes initiative.

Almost a high school dropout – escaped high school with a 2.1 GPA.

Short tempered – Always getting into fights

Carlos

Shy – More likely to spend a whole day without saying anything to anyone

Bookworm – 3.63 cumulative GPA through City College and UC Berkeley

Hard working – Work by day, school by night

Insecure – Always worried about what others think

Caring – Looks after niece and nephew, making sure they don’t make the same mistakes

To my parents, family, and acquaintances I am Carlos. And to my closer friends, I am Los. There’s no switch that transforms one into the other, and there’s quite a bit of overlap between the two. Los can’t talk to a girl. Carlos thrives in demanding situations. There are people who know me as both.

I was never a superstar basketball player or anything like that, but I was fairly good. And because it was one of the few things I did well in high school, I took pride in it. People saw the pride, mistook it for arrogance and labeled me a jock. People expected me to act a certain way and I, looking to fit in, perpetuated the situation.

On the other hand, after I graduated from high school, I decided to move to Miami in order to get my life together. It was the first time in my life that I had to fend for myself. My parents were no longer around to pay for rent or put food on the table. Overnight I became responsible for myself, not missing a day of work or ever being late with rent.

Much how like Gogol was transformed and enabled to talk to the girl at the party after first introducing himself as Nikhil, I was transformed the first time I was called Los. We were scrimmaging against each another during basketball practice freshmen year of high school. A team member puts up a shot that hits off the backboard and rim. I weave around the defender trying to screen me out and attack the ball, grabbing it as it leaves the rim. In a single fluid motion, I land on the ground and jump back up with the ball, laying it up while slapping the backboard with authority. “Uhhhh… Los! That was beastly,” exclaimed my team mate as we ran back on defense.

My Name

My name is Ali in class and pretty much to everybody I know. I never really ever mention my original name and my name is often out of my mind. I feel that Ali is a good name and it is quite unique. I often have to correct people in pronouncing my name and am really proud of how it sounds. I really like that not many people have my name and often find myself the only one in the environment with this name. Everybody in my family had a Vietnamese name since everyone was born in Vietnam. It seems that somehow nicknames were developed in our childhood.
The name Ali originally started out as a nickname after a famous actress named Ali McGraw. She starred in the movie Love Story and my parents fell in love with that movie. The name stuck and has been used to this day.
I also have heard of another story from where my nickname originated. I got it from my aunt who liked to have an ee sound at the end of my name. In the case of my older brother, his name is Danny, which has the ee sound at the end of his name. So they came of with the Ali because they like how it sounds.
My brother on the other hand believed that my nickname was made up by my uncle. My uncle apparently named me after Mohammed Ali, a guy by the way. He teases me that it is after a guy and Ali is pronounced differently for his name. So my brother calls me with a different name that nobody else really calls me.
Personally, I think it is the first story that I mentioned which I believe where my name came from. My parents are also very adamant on this being the truthful story.

So my real name is Nguyen Thi Dan Ha. Usually in Vietnamese we start our name with our last name first and then continue from the middle to first. Last name: Nguyen, Middle: Thi , First: Dan Ha. Another particular thing about my Vietnamese name is that it has four words. Usually a Vietnamese a girl is named with four words and a guy is named with three words. This establishes a name that has value and respect.
I did not learn this until high school and I find that an interesting fact. The reason I didn’t realize this fact earlier was because I didn’t notice another part of my name for the longest time, Thi. I didn’t realize that this was a part of my name until I had to apply for my driver’s license and my US citizenship certificate had three words for my middle name. By the way, my original first name (my Vietnamese name) became my middle name and my nickname became my first name in America.
So my Vietnamese name means the time when the sun is setting and you see the multiple hues of the sky setting. It is very poetic in Vietnamese with its underlying meanings that I don’t understand since I haven’t lived in Vietnam for most of my life. So when I think about my Vietnamese name, I think it is a shame that I don’t use it. It is just that I like my nickname too and it is confusing to have multiple names.

The Gangsta'

Following the discussion in class on Friday, I was left to reflect on what he had (or had not discussed) as a class. I found it interesting that the discussion was not as plentiful as I had expected, and there were many, long moments of "dead air." The entire time, I was wondering why people had nothing to say about the book. After all, I thought, the book was of an interesting topic and had many complexities. That left me to think about my experience reading the book.

I remember when I finished the book, I was left sitting on my bed and wondering what had just happened. I had spent hours immersed in the raw details of the book, turning from page to page, anxious to see what would happen next. And when I finally reached the end, I was not satisfied. I realize that I was not satisfied because I found that the book was so complex that I was not really sure how the book ended. This may or may not have been because I was rushing to finish the book before the presentation, but nevertheless I still stand by the fact that it was just a complicated plot. The details, while not only in a confusing anti-chronological order, were conflicting and unsettling. When it came time to ask the question, "Did Le really find who she is?" I could not even answer the question. It seems to show in the story line in that Le and her parents spend so much time wandering from place to place that they don't have energy to do much else than keep themselves safe and alive. Because they are lower class immigrants, they don't really have time to sit around and ponder the meaning of their existence and whether or not their names are appropriate for them. It is exactly my inability to answer the question that makes the book what it is--raw, emotional, and real.

I am also reminded of the many, tangible, real life stories that I have heard of the Vietnamese boat people. While the Namesake was a compelling fictional expression of conflicting Asian American feelings, Le's book was more of a snapshot of a more tangible experience. She is almost describing a picture, using more than one thousand words. In all honesty, I am partial to the Namesake more because I simply found it a better read, but I respect the fact that The Gangster was something that no one could truly just make up out of their imagination.

Now, back to the question: Why was the class so quiet when there should have been so much to talk about?

Perhaps it was an off day. Or, maybe there were so many complexities at play that no one could deciper the true answers to the questions (which was also my personal feeling). Or, it could be that the story line did not generate strong opinions. I am sure everyone had their opinion about Gogol, but maybe when it came to Le the true story factor did not leave much room for judgment, especially about such a sensitive topic for so many people. Who knows. What I know is that I am still confused about what really happened to Le's family. Who is the gangster? Le or her father? What makes that person the gangster? What did Le's father do to make him a gangster? It's all still a big mystery to me.

On a side note, I started reading America is in the Heart a few days ago and was fascinated to learn about the Filipino-American immigrant experience through the introduction chapter. I thought that Filipinos were not considered Asian (or perhaps that is what is portrayed by standardized testing bubbles), but am excited to read more about a group that I have never learned much about in terms of immigration. It was interesting to read that Filipinos were once looked down on in the early years of their immigration. Chia-Chi said in class on Friday that it is his favorite book of all time, so I hope that I can see why when I'm through.