Breakthrough: Spring 2019

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BREAKTHROUGH

GENERASIAN

SPRING 2019


LETTER

EXECUTIVE STAFF

Editors-in-Chief Rebecca Kao Jessie Yeung Editors-at-Large Morgan Kuin Jane Phan Deputy Editor-at-Large Tom Lynch Secretary Ladan Jaballas Public Relations Chair Cheryl Man Treasurer Ryan Yi Art Editors Evonne Lao Cindy Qiang Blog Editor May Do Media Editors Jenny Du Megan Liao Deputy Media Editor Kelly Sheng Layout Editor Megan Liao

FROM THE EDITORS

Dear Readers, As the spring semester comes to a close, we feel prompted to reflect on the breakthroughs that have upturned the Western media and political landscape over the past year. From the recent Oscar and Grammy seasons to the Midterms and anticipated election cycle, we wanted not only to evaluate the implications of these developments on a global stage, but also to turn inward and contemplate their impact on a personal scale. When we mention “breakthroughs,� we discuss those specific moments in time that forge a bridge between the culminated events of the past and the possibilities for the future. They open a natural dialogue to reflect on what has led to these moments of clarity, while also inviting us to seriously consider what paths we set ourselves on. With this thought in mind, we invited our writers to reflect on breakthroughs most meaningful to them over the past year, as well as the ones they hope to witness. From analyzing the rising star of Marie Kondo to illuminating the ethnolinguistic diversity of South Asia, they have explored what it means to truly break through boundaries, and what is necessary to forge the better tomorrows they wish to see.

CONTRIBUTORS

Writers Angela Cai Naomi Chou Mingyue (Selina) Deng Alexandra Fong Rebecca Kao Archita Kumar Chelsea Kwak Zoe Lee Zoe De Leon Kathy Park Shashank Rao Nikhil Shivakumar Jemara Sheely Margaret Yannopoulos Luopeiwen (Tina) Yi Ryan Yi Michelle Zhang Artists Charlie Dodge Evonne Lao Christine Park Cindy Qiang Heather Wu Betty Yan Luopeiwen (Tina) Yi Sherry (Xinyue) Zhang

2 Letter from the Editors

Layout Cindy Rose Chen Naomi Chou Evonne Lao Joseph Lee Chelsea Li Zoe De Leon Kathy Park Jemara Sheely Marva Shi Alyanna De Vera Lauren White-Jackson Shiny Wu

We hope you enjoy reading their incredibly thoughtful words, and that you might search for the breakthroughs that have happened in your own lives. Happy Reading! Sincerely,

Jane Phan

Morgan Kuin

Thomas J. Lynch

cover art: self-dissection Christine Park

This is a self-portrait depicting complicated layers that complete my identity. Under the finished puzzle pieces lie a beehive and a colony of bees, which again symbolize the complexity that can only be visible when the puzzle pieces are removed. It implies the multifaceted characteristics that form who I am.

CHECK OUT OUR WEBSITE: generasian.blog READ THIS ISSUE ONLINE: issuu.com/generasian Disclaimer: This publication is published by students at New York University and NYU is not responsible for its contents.


CONTENTS 1

cover art: self-dissection

22

michelle

2

letter from the editors

23

woman, of a girl

A RT S AND EN TERTAIN MEN T

H IS TORY A ND CONT EM POR A RY C U LT U R E

cleaning up kondo: representation in tidying up with marie kondo

24

half the sky, still uncharted

26

the case for asian american interfaith engagement

4

Christine Park

and staff/credits

Alexandra Fong Artwork by Heather Rong Wu

6 8

asian cinema and the power of mundane stories

the perfect doll Luopeiwen (Tina) Yi

Cindy Qiang

Rebecca Kao

Shashank Rao

Kathy Park Artwork by Emily Lee

28

the burden of proving your oppression

a goldmine to be discovered: the wandering earth in review

30

more than just indian: south asian ethnolinguistic diversity

Naomi Chou Artwork by Hannah Mei

10

art against assimilation

12

sandra oh makes history: representation at the golden globes

from charlie chan to crazy rich asians: shifting the conversation Archita Kumar Artwork by Charlie Dodge

16

self-portrait

18

self-portrait, outburst, projecting the unconscious

32

19

avril, des fleurs dans la roche

20

#1,#2

21

literal breakthrough

Sherry (Xinyue) Zhang

Betty Yan

Heather Wu

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discussions of identity: the asian experience across continents Zoe Lee Illustration by Evonne Lao

34

the weight of a balikbayan box Zoe De Leon

PER SONA L ES SAYS A ND STORYT E LLI N G

36

growing pains

38

the girl with no makeup

40

imposter syndrome

42

in my own words

44

where the sun sets

46

media highlight

48

blog highlight

50

meet the eboard

Charlie Dodge

Christine Park

Michelle Zhang

Nikhil Shivakumar

Angela Cai Photos by Betty Yan

Chelsea Kwak Artwork by Joanna Feng

14

Evonne Lao

Jemara Sheely

Luopeiwen (Tina) Yi Artwork by Sherry Zhang

Margaret Yannopoulos

Mingyue (Selina) Deng

Ryan Yi

Table of Contents 3


CLEANING UP KONDO: REPRESENTATION IN

TIDYING UP WITH MARIE KONDO

By: Alexandra Fong With a placid smile, pastel sweater sets, jovial demeanor, unwavering politeness, and petite stature, Marie Kondo fits the bill for archaic Western stereotypes of Asian women. Nonetheless, she’s become a powerhouse authority on all things tidying and a phenom in the US since the debut of her Netflix original series, capitalizing upon popular resolutions to clean house physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. As a primer, Kondo’s tidying practice roots itself in Shinto beliefs which see kami, spirits, everywhere. The KonMari Method involves keeping and honoring (by way of tidying and storing) objects that “spark joy” and discarding those that don’t, but not without an expression of gratitude.

Kondo’s method and series have been a smash hit in America, where Shintoism isn’t as prevalent as in Japan—an estimated 70.4% of the Japanese population practice the religion—and Asian media representation is on the rise following the success of Crazy Rich Asians.1 In Japan, some people have heard of her but aren’t quite sure what she does. In an Asian Boss video about Kondo in Japan, interviewees found her method unique and interesting, but not reflective of what they do on a daily basis.2 They commented that Kondo may be so popular in America because “Americans hardly think about tidying up… it’s something new and fascinating to them,” especially since the habit of cleaning up has been embedded in Japanese culture since

1 CIA World Factbook. 2 “What The Japanese Think Of Marie Kondo [Street Interview] | ASIAN BOSS.” Asian Boss, 25 February 2019.

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nursery school. However, some support her growing popularity because it seems to confirm the notion that all Japanese women are polite and good at tidying up. One interviewee says that although Kondo’s status as a typically neat Japanese woman benefits Japan’s image, it might give foreigners the false notion that all Japanese people are like Kondo, especially if the show is their first introduction to the culture. While KonMari has inspired people all over the world to tidy and organize, not everyone is keen on her practice; and even when they are, they treat it with a level of humor that is embedded in racist and Othering notions. In a 2016 appearance on The Ellen Show, Ellen, and subsequently


her audience, didn’t take Kondo’s practices seriously, laughing at her folding methods.3 On Jimmy Kimmel in January, shortly after the series’s release, Kondo prompted Kimmel and his staff to close their eyes and express gratitude for the office space, which Kimmel did sarcastically as the audience laughed.4 By refusing to acknowledge Kondo and her method in a serious manner and encouraging their audiences to poke fun with microaggressive comments, Ellen and Kimmel enabled their viewers to participate in a laugh-along that condescends and contributes to Othering of Eastern belief systems and practices.5,6 Furthermore, Kondo has borne the brunt of scrutiny for out-of-context and misconstrued comments, particularly regarding the number of books people should have at home. Kondo has been called a “monster” in a now-deleted tweet and subject to criticism through Twitter memes and even a Washington Post article.7 In the face of this backlash, she responded in a way that aligns with her brand and sparks joy: she

In the face of this backlash, she responded in a way that aligns with her brand and sparks joy. says that it’s fine if people are comfortable with clutter in their homes and suggests having a designated spot for it and an awareness of its quantity.8,9 Furthermore, thousands have come to Kondo’s defense, with prominent feminist Kathy Pollitt even referring to her “fairy-like delicacy and charm” that “exaggerates the diff [sic] between herself and her lumpish, clueless American clients.”10 It’s in the staunch defense of Marie Kondo and the context in which her US fanbase has grown that we can see the foundation underlying the search for representation, and it’s more precarious

Artwork by Heather Rong Wu.

than expected. Crazy Rich Asians showed the Western world that Asian American Pacific Islanders are more than just math nerds, sidekicks, and dragon ladies; we’re

Crazy Rich Asians showed the Western world that Asian American Pacific Islanders are more than just math nerds, sidekicks, and dragon ladies; we’re also glamorous and powerful. also glamorous and powerful. Bao offered a familiar narrative that made us cry in moments that many white audiences laughed at because they didn’t understand

the story unfolding before them. Kondo straddles the line between the familiar (tidying up the home) and the exotic (the Shintoism imbued in her method, her Japanese narration, etc.), which has fascinated the Western world, because for them, KonMari is rooted in beliefs so peculiarly Other. Representation is only one half of normalizing what we place and see onscreen; the other half lies in how the audience receives it. How effective is our representation if Western audiences still view it through an exoticizing and Othering lens? Is our search for representation driven by the desire to be affirmed by the West? If so, why?

Alex is a junior in Media, Culture and Communication who watches too much TV for her own good.

3 “Ellen and Ellie Get Organized with Marie Kondo.” TheEllenShow, 21 April 2016. 4 “Marie Kondo Helps Jimmy Kimmel Tidy Up.” Jimmy Kimmel Live, 29 January 2019. 5 “Ellen and Ellie Get Organized with Marie Kondo.” TheEllenShow, 21 April 2016. 6 “Marie Kondo Helps Jimmy Kimmel Tidy Up.” Jimmy Kimmel Live, 29 January 2019. 7 Jerema, Kerri. “The Marie Kondo Books Debate Has Classist & Racist Undertones That Can’t Be Ignored.” Bustle, January 2019. 8 Charles, Ron. “Keep your tidy, spark-joy hands off my book piles, Marie Kondo.” The Washington Post, 10 January 2019. 9 Munro, Cait. “Marie Kondo Has A Reasonable Response To Your Reasonable Criticisms.” Refinery29, 11 January 2019. 10 Pollitt, Katha. “I think her speaking Japanese...” 4 February 2019. Tweet. READ OUR BLOG

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Cleaning Up Kondo: Representation in Tidying Up with Marie Kondo 5


ASIAN CINEMA

& THE POWER OF OF MUNDANE STORIES

By: Kathy Park for people who did not look or experience the world as I did. I gradually grew conscious of not only the lack of Asian films I had seen, but also my tendency to look at it through a western lens. It was this consciousness that prompted me to look for and welcome the works of Asian directors again. Hirokazu Kore-eda and Kogonada were two of the Asian auteurs who

Caught up in the grandeur of Hollywood, even the terrible parts of it, I began to consume the overt undertones of Western media that what was white was better, and was convinced by it.

Artwork by Emily Lee. Scenes from “Columbus,” “After the Storm,” and “Shoplifters.”

Growing up, Asian movies were just movies. It was only after I moved to an international school in Singapore and was exposed to Western culture that what was simply entertainment to me was placed in a “larger” Western context. Somehow all the TV shows and films I was familiar with were whittled down to a one-dimensional, out-of-the-norm subset. For the first time, on screen my humanity was not assumed, and I didn’t know how to defend it. I didn’t realize how marginalizing the things that colored my childhood various shades of joy, confusion, excitement, and comfort would affect how I understood cinema. Before I knew it I was standing on the other side, filled with admiration for things that didn’t belong to me. It was, in a way, a coping mechanism. As they deliberately negated

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things that were familiar to me, I turned my attention on things my white friends and teachers presented as “the norm,” “the excellent,” “the American.” And just like that, without even once stepping foot on it, my strange relationship with America began—a relationship largely built on what I saw through the media, and specifically films. Caught up in the grandeur of Hollywood, even the terrible parts of it, I began to consume the overt undertones of Western media that what was white was better, and was convinced by it. For a while, I rarely watched Asian films or viewed them as equal counterparts to Hollywood movies. But as I delved deeper into the world of film, I felt a profound emptiness in exclusively consuming media made by and

significantly changed how I viewed Asian cinema. Their films helped me understand that Asian culture and cinema don’t need validation or affirmation from the West. In our own ground-breaking ways, Asian cinema has been growing and solidifying for decades. Our unique histories have led to figures like Akira Kurosawa, Wong Karwai, and Yasujiro Ozu. These have become not only the pillars of East Asian cinema, but also inspirations to filmmakers all over the world, including Kore-eda and Kogonada. Hirokazu Kore-eda is a renowned Japanese auteur who has been creating movies for nearly two decades. He excels at translating the subtle beats and idiosyncrasies of everyday conversations and experiences on to the big screen. Characters are seen eating, exchanging light-hearted conversations, taking baths, and going about their monotonous daily tasks. Moments that seem familiar and insignificant are given a different context in his films, prompting us to reevaluate the value of these moments in our own lives as well. Despite the familiarity that pervades his films, the themes Kore-eda discusses are significant, and often heavy. In films


like Like Father, Like Son (2013) and After the Storm (2016), he explores the depths of fatherhood. He challenges the definition of family in his Palme d’Or winning film Shoplifters (2018) and Our Little Sister (2015). One critic, Brian Tallerico, wrote of Shoplifters, “His characters and their predicament are not merely mouthpieces for the issues that interest him but fullyrealized people who feel like they existed before the film started and will go on after it ends.”1 Kogonada masterfully echoes this quality of subtlety in a western setting.

Moments that seem familiar and insignificant are given a different context in his films, prompting us to reevaluate the value of these moments in our own lives as well. Kogonada is a South Korean-born American filmmaker who started off as a video essayist on Vimeo.2 He was prolific in his curation and analyses of successful

stylistic approaches taken by both past and contemporary directors. His Vimeo career points to his most significant influencers and demonstrates early formations of his editing style as a filmmaker. His first and only film yet, Columbus (2017), pays great homage to Yasujiro Ozu, his greatest influencer, most notably through shots framed by doorways. Much like Kore-eda’s films, the narrative pace of Columbus is slow, and the film focuses on the complexity of sincere, humdrum everyday life. As the two main characters become invested in one another’s lives, Kogonada explores the subtle nuances in the conversations they exchange, the interaction between people and space, as well as the sense of stagnant time that pervades the quiet town of Columbus. Although these stylistic qualities aren’t unique to East Asia, and cannot characterize Asian cinema as a whole, they are what I find most beauty and pride in. I used to think that the experience a film provides must be spectacular. But these silence-filled, slow-paced stories about things we face as normal human beings moved me in ways I have not been moved before. Now, the quality of films

that most enchant me is not its ability to entertain, but its ability to reproduce the human experience and prompt a deeper introspection of our individual realities. And in the most ordinary and uniquely sincere way, the films of Kore-eda Hirokazu and Kogonada do just that. They tell us to take a look at our lives, the normality of it, and realize its power. Kathy Park is a first year student in Liberal Studies. She likes watching movies that make her cry and all of the movies mentioned in this article made her cry.

1 Tallerico, Brian. “Shoplifters Movie Review & Film Summary (2018) | Roger Ebert.” RogerEbert.com, 23 Nov. 2018. 2 “Kogonada.” Vimeo.

Scene from Kore-eda’s film, “Our Little Sister.”

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Asian Cinema and the Power of Mundane Stories 7


A GOLDMINE TO BE DISCOVERED: THE WANDERING EARTH IN REVIEW By: Naomi Chou Chinese science fiction’s recent “explosion” in America began with the 2014 English release of Cixin Liu’s novel The Three-Body Problem. In China, Cixin Liu is an extremely popular author considered foundational to the sci-fi genre, and serves as an inspiration to many younger writers.1 Following this overseas success, Liu’s novella The Wandering Earth was adapted into a high-budget blockbuster film this year that opened to a record-setting gross in China and screened internationally. The exposure of Americans to diverse media can only be a good thing: Western canon is heavily American and European, erasing older cultures and reinforcing stereotypes of minorities. However, Liu’s acclaim doesn’t mean that American responses are purely “objective,” but rather that they may be colored by stereotypes, geopolitical relations, and orientalist traditions of east Asian scholarship. It must be emphasized that Chinese science fiction has a heritage that precedes its contemporary resurgence.2 Just as Frankenstein, often cited as the “first scifi,” spun a technology to its logical ends, contemporary Chinese science fiction is the extension of decades of futurism and sociopolitics. Frankenstein, thematically, verged on philosophical: Can man rule

nature? What happens when morality is divorced from scientific pursuits? Similarly, Chinese science fiction is thought to have arisen in the late Qing dynasty, when modern technology promised success for China’s future.3 So, the genre originated specifically in Chinese national interests, inviting questions like: What is progress? What makes civilizations “advanced?” How will we reconcile the dichotomies of traditional/modern and past/future? Though Three Body “introduced” Chinese science fiction to the States, its popularity didn’t immediately break down barriers between American and Chinese literary spheres. American media approaches Wandering Earth skeptically— primarily, it is that the film takes being Chinese as self-explanatory, which catches many reviewers off guard. The Portland Mercury summarizes the characters as “individuals from a slew of countries (but, you know, mostly China.)”4 Chinese identities are a surprise because a white identity constructs itself as a default, and Wandering Earth provides no explanation for why Britain appears less than Indonesia, and the US doesn’t appear at all. Many Westerners perceive Wandering Earth as specifically Chinese, not global. Reviews also tend towards

1 Manthorpe, Rowland. “Cixin Liu is the author of your next favourite sci-fi novel.” Wired UK. 2 Song, Mingwei. “A New Continent for China Scholars.” In Broken Stars, edited by Ken Liu. Head of Zeus, 2019. 3 Liu, Cixin. “The Worst of All Possible Universes and the Best of All Possible Earths.” Tor. 4 Henriksen, Erik. “The Wandering Earth Review.” Portland Mercury. 5 Robinson, Tasha. “China’s blockbuster The Wandering Earth is rich, gorgeous, and goofy.” The Verge. 6 Xiong, Yong & Ben Wescott. “Will smash hit The Wandering Earth change China’s film industry?” CNN. 7 Demarco, Amanda. “Cixin Liu, China, and the Future of SF.” Paris Review. 8 Todd, Andrew. “The Wandering Earth Review.” Birth Movies Death.

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stereotypically Chinese themes and claim the movie illustrates “Chinese values,” even though not all American films are about freedom and individualism. From The Verge: “It’s often easy to feel Gwo (the director) cares more about the collective rescue project than about any individual character—potentially a value that will work better for Chinese audiences than American viewers, who are looking for a single standout hero to root for.”5 Meanwhile, director Frant Gwo noted, “the core value in China’s cultures—our deep affections to the land and home” and “a typical Chinese father’s love...forbearing and without too many words, but so powerful.”6 Division between the “East” and “West” is widely acknowledged, but Chinese generalizations are usually positive, while American generalizations edge towards certain stereotypes of collectivist “Easterners.” Wealth inequality exacerbated by technology is today’s reality, bureaucracy is in every government, and teamwork in itself is not necessarily communist; yet these are all themes attributed specifically to the film’s Chinese origin.7,8 Chinese media is interrogated through the lens of Frankenstein-esque questions like: Is experimentation going too far? Does


technology really improve our lives, or do these new developments seem immoral? Criticism of Chinese science fiction in this vein is really criticism of China itself. Translator Ken Liu warns against interpreting Chinese sci-fi through “the lens of Western dreams and hopes and fairy tales about Chinese politics.”9 To do so diminishes its scope by confining it to just Chinese relevance. It’s also arrogant to imply that China is the only place with inequality, bureaucracy, or oppressive government.

Is experimentation going too far? Does technology really improve our lives, or do these new developments seem immoral?

Of course, the relevancy of Western science fiction does not exist because of the presumption of Western universality. Such “universality” also manifests in the rhetoric that Chinese science fiction is a “goldmine to be discovered, explored, and brought to attention”: that it’s to be unearthed and exploited as an object of the Western gaze, like the Americas to Columbus.10 “The biggest film in the world right now,” writes website BGR, “is actually a Chinese picture. It’s bigger than Infinity War, bigger than anything Marvel — indeed, than anything you’ve heard of.”11 The “discovery” of something whose existence has been self-evident to its creator for a while is ignorant at best, as it is to deem Cixin Liu, a literal bestselling author who happens to be Asian, “cult.”12 Overall, writing of Chinese science fiction as specifically niche implies that sci-fi is

9 Ash, Alec. “The Fantastic Truth About China.” New York Review.

Artwork by Hannah Mei.

by default white and exoticizes Chinese as “intriguing.”

The “discovery” of something whose existence has been self-evident to its creator for a while is ignorant at best, as it is to deem Cixin Liu, a literal bestselling author who happens to be Asian, “cult.” A Western default reduces Wandering Earth to something derivative. The Verge describes it as a “best-of mash-up of past science fiction films, just with lessfamiliar faces in the lead roles,” then lists American films it supposedly imitated.13 Simultaneously, the movie is also subject to sweeping criticism as exemplar of all Chinese movies ever. From Portland Mercury: “Tonal shifts aren’t uncommon with mainstream Chinese films—there’s often something of a broad-stroked, schizophrenic quality to them.”14 This is “othering”: homogenizing a foreign culture rather than recognizing individuality. Ken Liu stresses the nuance and diversity in the category of “Chinese sci-fi” and cautions against the simplifying label.15 Cixin Liu has even stated, “I’d prefer my work to be read as interesting sci-fi, not just a way to learn Chinese mindset today.”16 To tokenize Wandering Earth is reductive and deprives the reader of its universality. Wandering Earth will reportedly be distributed by Netflix in America. Perhaps integrating contemporary Chinese movies into American platforms will increase viewership and help break down barriers between “Western” and “Eastern” sci-fi. As one would hope, is this the beginning of a new broadcast era of global perspectives in entertainment? Can American media transcend Orientalist stereotypes and confront the racism inherent in “othering” certain visions of the future?

Naomi is a CAS sophomore (SCA major, physics minor) and Ken Liu groupie from the Bay Area, California.

10 Song. 11 Meek, Andy. “The world’s biggest movie isn’t ‘Infinity War’” BGR. 12 Huang. 13 Robinson. 14 Henriksen. 15 Pandell, Lexi. “Is Three-Body Problem’s Translation Better Than The Original?” Wired. 16 Manthorpe. READ OUR BLOG

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A Goldmine to be Discovered: The Wandering Earth in Review 9


ART AGAINST ASSIMILATION By: Angela Cai I can distinctly remember holding back tears in a dark, hushed theater, watching the short film Bao. I was warmed by its affectionate renderings of everything from picking out groceries in a bustling Chinatown to folding dumplings with clumsy fingers—until I was jarred awake by the judgement of non-Asian American audiences. My quiet joy (of finally, finally!) was met with disdain, a presumptuous “Of course you liked it—you’re Asian!” that burrowed its way under my skin. Somehow, I felt judged for loving Bao as a Chinese American writer, as if I was submitting to external expectations. When I discussed Bao with people, my Chinese American identity obscured my personal connection with the film, and I was criticized for pigeonholing myself by race. Of course I liked it. Of course I would “get” it. But where did those expectations come from? What was wrong with loving something so

intrinsically bound up with my identity? What is it about our identity as Asian Americans that requires so much scrutiny of our identity as creatives? And

What is it about our identity as Asian Americans that requires so much scrutiny of our identity as creatives? as artists, writers, designers, creators— what becomes our duty to art? Questioning the relationship between Asian American identity and art uncovers an inorganic “ethnic obligation” for Asian Americans to create content solely defined and directed by their racial or cultural identification. This “obligation” imposes itself over every part of the creative process, from our creation to our consumption of art. The origins of this “obligation” can be

1 Pauls, Elizabeth P. “Assimilation.” Encyclopedia Britannica, Aug. 19, 2008. 2 Time Magazine, Aug. 31, 1987.

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traced back to the process of assimilation, in which immigrants or minorities integrate into a dominant group or society1. Asian Americans have a long history of assimilation, informed by conflicts such as the stereotypes of Asian Americans speaking broken English, maintaining conservative traditions, or even eating dogs. Stereotypes additionally manifest in the “model minority myth,” which presents Asian Americans as foreigners transformed into perfect models of assimilation. The myth has existed for decades; it brings to mind Time Magazine’s infamous 1987 cover depicting “Those Asian-American Whiz Kids.”2 As a result, many Asian Americans face difficulties in expanding their identities because of the insidious stereotypes in place. Assimilation particularly promotes the modification of Asian culture to be more suitable for the American palate, confining Asian Americans’ ability to tell their stories and


engage with non-Asian American audiences without fulfilling these stereotypes. This “ethnic obligation” once made itself known to me when a Chinese American character in my short story was criticized for somehow being both “not Chinese enough” and “too Chinese.” She liked soda too much or she wasn’t free-spirited enough, nonsensically signifying that she didn’t belong to a strictly American or Chinese world. Indeed, the ongoing expectations of assimilation construct an idea that, as models of assimilation, Asian Americans are expected to assimilate carefully enough not to disturb the American consciousness while still fulfilling a cultural “diversity quotient.” “Diverse” contributions of art centered around Asian American culture may fulfill those expectations, while contributions unrelated to ethnic identity may be obscured. My non-Asian American peers were rattled by a Chinese American character who was by no means extraordinary, but simply didn’t fit into the totalizing expectation for Asian Americans to produce “culturally interesting” art. This abstraction of Asian American art is part of a creative culture that continues to affirm an READ OUR BLOG

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expectation for Asian Americans to pander to a false narrative. Additionally, those who create or consume sufficiently “culturally interesting” art are criticized for falling submissively into these expectations—a dangerous, ironic reaction that attempts to manipulate Asian American art through the incurious presuppositions of non-Asian Americans. However, as much as identity is appropriated to control Asian American art, it is essential to understand that identity is necessarily a personal extension of the artist themselves. Asian American identity is often an integral part of the creative process, contributing to the ongoing, self-informing cultural narrative that animates our storytelling. Even when Asian Americans do not create art solely informed by ethnic identity, there is profound value to be found in the art that explores such themes. For us, it is not a question of forcing diversity or politics into our work, but a question of accessing a natural tradition of storytelling that begins with the self. Non-Asian Americans must recognize the damage of imposing their artistic barriers, while we must continue

to produce the art of our choice, opposing a creative culture that stifles our identity. Being Asian American has the potential to inform everything we create – but it does not solely define us. It is ultimately up to us to decide what our stories will say.

Being Asian American has the potential to inform everything we create – but it does not solely define us. Angela Cai is a freshman from Southern California studying English and American Literature.

Photos by Betty Yan.

Art Against Assimilation 11


SANDRA OH

REPRESENTATION AT THE GOLDEN GLOBES

MAKES HISTORY:

By: Chelsea Kwak On January 6th 2019, Sandra Oh won a Golden Globe for best actress in a drama for her role in Killing Eve, and the online Asian community went wild. The Facebook group “Subtle Asian Traits” (SAT) overflowed with memes and emotional posts in regards to both Oh and her parents. Members of SAT laughed at how Oh set the standards high for Asian kids by respecting her parents and thanking them on live television, and at her mother’s “unimpressed” facial expression. The first post to share Oh’s accomplishment received almost 28,000 likes. Given how rare Asian representation is in movies and TV shows, not to mention in award shows, Sandra Oh at the 2019 Golden Globes was an iconic breakthrough for the Asian community. As the first person of Asian descent to ever host the Golden Globes, Oh provided the Asian community with more than just a face on screen that looks like us—she gave us a undeniable leading voice. In her

As the first person of Asian descent to ever host the Golden Globes, Oh provided the Asian community with more than just a face on screen that looks like us—she gave us a undeniable leading voice. opening monologue with Andy Samberg, Oh applauded the success of Crazy Rich Asians and made a joke about how Asian moms would not be impressed by her feat, alluding to the stereotype that Asian parents value academic accomplishments over creative pursuits. Many Asian kids can relate to her comments, growing up constantly hearing about their successful cousins or friends, or being pressured to

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“There are two people here tonight that I am so grateful that they’re here with me. I’d like to thank my mother and my father. Umma, appa, saranghaeyo! (Mom, dad, I love you!)” -From Sandra Oh’s Acceptance Speech at the 2019 Golden Globes.

become doctors, engineers, or lawyers. Oh allowed the Asian community to experience the special feeling of laughing along with someone on a big platform who shared the struggles of living as an Asian child. Oh also brought up how Crazy Rich Asians “is the first studio film with an Asian American lead since Ghost in the Shell and Aloha,” a joke calling out two controversial films that cast non-Asian actresses for Asian characters. Many within the Asian community were furious about the whitewashing, and yet their concerns were never fully addressed. Giving voice to the criticisms of the Asian community, Oh directly addressed the film industry on a stage impossible to ignore. Emma Stone, who played a character who was meant to be Asian in Aloha, actually yelled out, “I’m sorry!” in response to Oh during the monologue. While a nice gesture, Stone’s apology stands out against the silence from filmmakers who have refused to

apologize for this misrepresentation—and the apology wouldn’t even have happened without Oh helming the Golden Globes. Not only did Oh do an excellent job of hosting, but she also became the first person of Asian descent to win a Golden Globe for best actress in a TV drama in 39 years. The last Asian actress to win a Golden Globe in the category was Yoko Shimada for her role in Shogun in 1980. The fact that it took such a long time for


another Asian actress to win highlights not just the underrepresentation, but the outright lack of recognition of the talents of Asians in Hollywood and the difficulties they experience in the industry. Oh breaking a 39-year barrier between Asian actresses and the Golden Globes serves as an inspirational statement to those navigating the entertainment industry and the Asian community as a whole. It proves that we are out there modifying stereotypes and achieving great things in a wide range of industries, not just ones we are expected to be in. Given the importance of role models and the impact of media, Sandra Oh’s success serves as a prime example for girls, especially Asian girls, to follow their dreams and work hard to achieve their goals no matter what others say. Moreover, Oh is inspiring them to go out into the world, express their authentic voices, and make changes in an industry that has silenced them for decades. As a young Asian woman myself, watching Oh deliver her READ OUR BLOG

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opening monologue and acceptance speech at the Golden Globes sparked a flame in my heart. Hearing Oh make her jokes, some not even meant for this largely white audience,

As a young Asian woman myself, watching Oh deliver her opening monologue and acceptance speech at the Golden Globes sparked a flame in my heart.

Art accompaniment by Joanna Feng.

gave me more than just a face that looks like mine on the big screen. It gave me the chance to hear my own thoughts and experiences reflected back at me, and be recognized. It filled my heart with joy. Chelsea Kwak is a first year student at NYU in Liberal Studies. She likes ducks and turquoise.

Sandra Oh Makes History : Representation at the Golden Globes 13


CHARLIE CHAN CRAZY RICH ASIANS:

SHIFTING THE CONVERSATION By: Archita Kumar “I’m glad they brought him. He’s the best detective on the force.” “But—he’s Chinese!” These are two lines from Earl Derr Biggers’ 1925 mystery novel The House Without a Key.1 It portrays a Chinese American detective, Charlie Chan, attempting to find a murderer and combat discrimination, while other characters question his capabilities due to his ethnicity.

Artwork by Charlie Dodge.

The novel reflected a perception in the 1920s-40s that Asian Americans were taking over the job market, as they were often willing and lower-cost laborers. Moreover, after the eugenics movement propagated the idea of selective breeding, many white Americans didn’t want Chinese workers to establish communities, or even procreate. Consequently, Yellow Peril campaigns, or racist propaganda based on the belief that Asians and Asian Americans

were dangerous and immoral, grew popular. While Biggers initially wrote the character Chan to counter these campaigns, the movie adaptations failed to convey the same sentiment. None of the actors that ever played Chan were of Chinese descent; Chan was portrayed by an Asian American actor in only 3 out of the 47 films that were made between 1926 and 1949.2,3 While Japanese actors George Kuwa and

1 Huh, Jinny. “Jaundiced Eyes: The Case of Charlie Chan and the Mysterious Disappearance of a Detective Hero.” In The Arresting Eye: Race and the Anxiety of Detection, 104-43. University of Virginia Press, 2015. 2 Danico, Mary Yu, and Anthony C. Ocampo. Asian American Society: An Encyclopedia. Los Angeles, CA: SAGE Reference, 2014. 3  Kehr, Dave. “New DVD’s: Charlie Chan.” The New York Times. June 20, 2006.

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Americans, it is no surprise that Hollywood refused to cast them (with a few exceptions such as Philip Ahn) and would instead use whitewashing to portray Asian American roles.5 However, the audience is as much to blame for this as the producers. Not many people took issue with the whitewashing; in fact, many critics and journalists such as Mae Tinee of the Chicago Daily Tribune praised Sidney Toler’s performance of Chan, saying, “He carries it easily and will, I think, prove a worthy successor to Mr. Oland, whom we all liked so much as the Chinese detective.” The franchise’s box office success (the movies earned nearly $1.7 million in 1936), longevity, and its perpetuation of whitewashing is more proof of the societal acceptance of white actors playing Chinese roles simply because of a “little goatee on [their] chin.”6, 7 However, this also means that as consumers of entertainment media, we have, to some extent, control over what is produced and what is accepted. In a more modern example, movies such as Ghost in the Shell and Aloha received backlash for casting Scarlett Johansson and Emma Stone for characters that were originally Asian, a widespread reaction that would be unimaginable in the 1920s-40s. Consequently, producers and casting directors are treading more carefully due to a “shifting cultural climate.”8 As viewers themselves begin to become more aware and object to stereotypical misrepresentation of racial minorities, the cultural shift in movies follows.

Kamiyama Sojin were cast as Chan in 1925 and 1927, followed by Korean actor E.L. Park in 1929, their roles were minor. In a film serial adaptation of The House Without a Key, two white actors received more screen time than Kuwa, even though Kuwa portrayed the protagonist.4 Sadly, the situation only worsened when in 1931, the role was given to white actor Warner Oland. In the face of the era’s racial stereotypes and prejudice towards Asian

As viewers themselves begin to become more aware and object to stereotypical misrepresentation of racial minorities, the cultural shift in movies follows.

American stories. We must give credit to certain producers such as Kevin Kwan for giving importance to representation of minorities in movies. However, it is not just their responsibility but ours, as audience, to criticize and speak up about whitewashing. For instance, in the movie Hellboy, actor Ed Skrein had initially been casted to play an Asian character. However, this decision received a wave of backlash on social media. Some tweeted, “You are NOT Japanese. Stop this buffoonery,” and complained, “When will people learn??” Finally, Skrein stepped down from the role, stating, “It is clear that representing this character in a culturally accurate way holds significance for people, and that to neglect this responsibility would continue a worrying tendency to obscure ethnic minority stories and voice in the Arts.” Now a Korean American actor, Daniel Kim, is playing this role. This is a clear example that a combination of increased awareness by consumers and their ability to use social media constructively can lead to cultural shifts. While producers and actors themselves should be more culturally conscious, it is also our responsibility to reject media associated with whitewashing or cultural appropriation.

While producers and actors themselves should be more culturally conscious, it is also our responsibility to reject media associated with whitewashing or cultural appropriation. The entertainment industry is a medium that both influences and is influenced by social norms, despite us being on the other side of the screen. Archita is a sophomore in CAS and is studying Economics and Psychology.

This phenomenon can be seen with last year’s movie Crazy Rich Asians and its all-Asian cast, whose success, popularity, and appreciation may pave the way for more Hollywood movies that share Asian

4 “The House Without a Key (serial).” Academic Dictionaries and Encyclopedias. 5 Finnan, Robert W. “Books and Films of Charlie Chan.” The Charlie Chan Films of Warner Oland. 6 “Biggest Box Office Hits of 1936.” Ultimate Movie Rankings. 2017. 7 Finnan, Robert W. “Books and Films of Charlie Chan.” The Charlie Chan Films of Warner Oland. 8 Greco, Patti, and Patti Greco. “”You Can’t Be Asleep at the Wheel”: Hollywood Is Finally Getting More Careful About Casting.” HWD. August 10, 2018. READ OUR BLOG

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From Charlie Chan to Crazy Rich Asians: Shifting the Conversation 15


BY: CHARLIE DODGE

Charlie Dodge is a freshman studying multi-media storytelling at Gallatin.

16 Arts and Entertainment


This short series of self portraits is my way of exploring the way I see myself, and the way the world sees me.

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Self-Portrait 17


SELF-PORTRAIT

OUTBURST PROJECTING THE UNCONSCIOUS

Art by Christine Park 18 Arts and Entertainment


DES FLEURS DANS LA ROCHE AVRIL

SHERRY (XINYUE) ZHANG The common element existing between these two works is the flower, the representation of power, energy, and color. Even from the hardest place of the rock, flowers can grow, survive, and bloom. When the hardest time comes, please remember that there will be flowers opening for you, to help you overcome the difficulties and “break through.�

Sherry (Xinyue) Zhang is a freshman studying Media, Culture, and Communication.

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Avril, Des Fleurs dans la Roche 19


BETTY YAN

#1

#2

Betty (Tiantian) Yan is a sophomore in Steinhardt studying Applied Psychology and a full-time selfemployed amateur photographer.

20 Arts and Entertainment


LITERAL BREAKTHROUGH

HEATHER WU READ OUR BLOG

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Literal Breakthrough 21


MICHELLE BY: EVONNE LAO

THE PERFECT DOLL

BY: LUOPEIWEN (TINA) YI I drew a beautiful woman with bluish big eyes and blonde hair that fit perfectly into the western beauty standards. However, she looks like an unreal and lifeless “doll.” On the bowknot of her hair, a few words are labeled: “lovely, Silent, Obedient” and “Virgin,” which are ideal virtues of women from men’s point of view. Her mouth is sealed with the chain of “men” and “heart shaped” scars crammed on her face, which hints her silent voice and lost self while she seeks love from men. Her earrings is a price tag says “Valentine’s Day for Sell: $20.00,” which labels her as a product in the male market. She is bounded with black strips cutting through her face and separating her bodies and minds. It traps her into the darkness and seals her as a doll for sale, an ideal female product in the male-dominated society. Sadly, there are tears dripping from her eye, but no one notices it. They only see her beautiful appearance, not her broken heart. I created it as a feminist artwork, and I hope this work can inspire more women to be themselves instead of being “The Perfect Doll” for sale.

22 Arts and Entertainment


This work is a quick pen sketch of a woman. It is casual in that it doesn’t have any vibrant colors, but her look is intense enough to add vibrancy to her portrait.

WOMAN

OF A GIRL This piece is similar to “Woman” in that they were both created using simple pen on sketchbook paper; however, it details a deeper topic wherein a girl’s mind there is a flowering wonder of ideas and beauty.

BY: CINDY QIANG Cindy is a sophomore studying Biology on the dental track at CAS. She has also been creating in the fine arts for nine years and is working towards a fine arts minor.

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Woman, Of A Girl 23


H T E F S L KY A H

,

STILL

UNCHARTED

By: Rebecca Kao To paint China’s much-debated One Child Policy either as wholly good or wholly bad is perhaps impossible—or at the very least, oversimplifying and unproductive. Singular among all nations of the world, this policy is instead worth examining in both its professed successes and failings. The subject of this policy as it uniquely touches upon the lives, opportunities, and sociopolitical identities of women, also forms the main preoccupation of my senior thesis, a project to which I dedicated two somewhat grueling semesters. As someone profoundly intrigued by the intricate intersections of policy and lived experience, as a novice scholar, and as a woman in the globalized world, I am interested the task of questioning—to provoke and illuminate, not resolve. Thus in a way, this piece is my attempt to grapple with the larger questions that academic research would rather not make space for.

A mother with her only child at Yuyuan Garden in Shanghai, China.

Is breakthrough a moment? Or is it a slow build? While the purpose of the One Child Policy (OCP) is probably intuitive from its name, the realities of this policy are, in a word, complicated. In 1979, the OCP came at a time when China’s population was booming, seemingly with no end in sight. Government leaders were compelled by Malthusian fears of limited resources to seek a solution to the ever-imminent overpopulation crisis and propel economic development. During the early years of the OCP (and indeed in the years since its end), the world had never before seen a population control measure of such searing breadth and depth: that not only sought to limit every family in the country to one child, but was strongly committed to keeping its word—in some cases, by any means necessary.

Though the OCP officially ended in 2016, it is hardly a relic of the past. The felt impact of such a far-reaching policy on an entire generation will continue for a long time yet. By limiting all Chinese families to having one child (albeit with some exceptions), the policy dramatically, and likely irreversibly, reshaped Chinese society. To name a few more troubling transformations, the OCP has fundamentally displaced traditional family structures, heightened fears of an imminent aging population crisis, spiked rates of female infanticide and produced the world’s most skewed sex ratio at birth: nationwide, men outnumber women by over 33 million.1 At the same time, the OCP has been continually praised not only as the vehicle driving China’s rapid economic development, but also as the catalyst for an era of social and political breakthrough for women in China today. By the numbers,

1 Li, Hongbin, et al. “Estimating the Effect of the One-Child Policy on the Sex Ratio Imbalance in China.” Demography 48, no. 4 (November 2011).

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the OCP has in fact “elevated the status of women,” particularly in terms of education attainment and career advancement. In 2016, the majority of students in higher education institutions were female; women made up 50.6% of postgraduate students, exceeding the percentage of men for the first time.2 Many scholars have credited the OCP for empowering women in China, who have greater parental support than women of generations past because they do not need to compete with siblings for parental attention.3 Others have pointed to the socioeconomic opportunities women now have, which were once only enjoyed by men. Is breakthrough the act of tearing down walls, the shattering of ceilings? Is it a place at a table that was not set for you? Should we, then, consider the OCP a breakthrough for Chinese women? While individual answers to this question may differ, an unequivocal “yes” is difficult to come by. As they pursue the increased educational opportunities available to them, female applicants also face rising barriers to entry at Chinese universities, where gender quotas and admission

requirements now shift to favor men.4 As they enter the workforce and embark on careers once closed off to them, many working women not only face gender and wage discrimination, but are also the targets of social ridicule. A new social category, termed “leftover women” (剩 女), is now commonly used to describe highly educated, professionally successful, but single or unmarried women in urban China.5 Cultural and gender norms persist, and women are shut out of real estate wealth in China because of it.6 In light of these phenomena, many of which bear the unmistakable imprint of the OCP’s legacy and appear to both advance and reverse women’s rights, true equality still remains elusive.

topic because of the performance of it, the veneer of hard-won but necessary triumph that enshrouds official discourse on the OCP; political messaging that proclaims: see! it also helped women. Or maybe I couldn’t personally relate to the idea that there could exist purely unequivocal breakthrough at all: if you were to take a panoramic snapshot of these past few years of college, I wouldn’t be able to pinpoint to you, here it is, there it was. Here, a shining moment. For me, the highs and lows have almost invariably come hand-in-hand, forcing me to step beyond the singularity of a moment—and into a wider, maybe steeper, world.

Do you know when breakthrough is happening, or only after?

In the space between where we are and where we hope to be, in that at once vast and imminent interstice between today and tomorrow—perhaps here, is breakthrough.

It is hard to say exactly why I chose this topic for the year-long project of my thesis. In part, I suppose I resonated with the glimmers of a decidedly simplistic female empowerment narrative. Yet at a deeper level, I am and have always been a skeptical person, and my academic journey has often yielded more questions than answers. Maybe I was so drawn to this

Really, what is breakthrough?

Rebecca is a senior studying International Relations and Sociology. This is the first time she has written for Generasian since her freshman year.

2 “China Statistical Yearbook 2016.” National Bureau of Statistics of China. 2016. 3 Fong, Vanessa L. “China’s One-Child Policy and the Empowerment of Urban Daughters.” American Anthropologist 104, no. 4 (2002). 4 Tatlow, Didi Kirsten. “Women in China Face Rising University Entry Barriers.” The New York Times. October 07, 2012. 5 Ministry of Education of the People’s Republic of China, 2006. 6 Fincher, Leta Hong. Leftover Women: The Resurgence of Gender Inequality in China. London: Zed Books, 2016. READ OUR BLOG

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Half the Sky, Still Uncharted 25


THE CASE FOR

ASIAN AMERICAN INTERFAITH ENGAGEMENT

By: Shashank Rao In Asian American activist communities, the term “intersectional” is often brought up to highlight the need for a multidimensional perspective on social justice that engages multiple modes of being and experience. Just as it is critical to examine the intersections of identities like ethnicity and gender, it is increasingly important that religion be discussed as well. In 2012, approximately 74% of Asian Americans across the United States actively identified with a religious tradition.1 In addition, it is significant that religious gatherings and houses of worship are important vehicles for preservation of culture and engagement with the community among Asian American groups.2 We cannot ignore the ways religion intersects with culture, as Hinduism does among South Asian groups, or Buddhism

among East and Southeast Asians. From the racialization of Hinduism, Sikhism, and Islam to issues of Christian supremacy, the Asian American community is deeply entrenched in religious conversations. However, there is little conversation on religion in Asian America beyond Islam, especially beyond the context of Islamophobia. Why is there no strong interfaith component to Asian American solidarity? There are a few possibilities: the shadow of 9/11 and its effects on the views of public religion, the emphasis on secular civil participation, and hostility (or skepticism) among activists and academics in the community. Whatever the case, religious belief and activism have become non-starter topics in Asian American discourse. Because many Asian Americans have been raised in an culture that is

afraid to directly confront issues like race and religion, the community tends to tiptoe around the issue and relegate it to a hyper-private space. Teachers and leaders emphasize “tolerance,” and believe that secularism manifests as active disengagement with religious belief entirely. However, as much as ideologies of color and race-blindness purport to espouse equality and lack of prejudice, religious “tolerance” merely professes to support the dignity and validity of other faith traditions, without engaging those traditions directly. In an essay, theologian and professor Dr. Seung Chul Kim reviews Christian efforts to address injustice, writing how they have centered on Christ and church (theos), conceptually, and not salvation (soteria), resulting in attitudes characterized by cultural and

1 Funk, Cary. “Asian Americans: A Mosaic of Faiths.” Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life. 2 Min, Pyong Gap, and Sou Hyun Jang. “The Diversity of Asian Immigrants Participation in Religious Institutions in the United States.” Sociology of Religion, vol. 76, no. 3, 2015, pp. 253–274.

26 History and Contemporary Culture


religious imperialism.3 Similarly, secular thought should not aim to secularize other communities, at the risk of marginalizing those who are religious, but rather critically engage religious and irreligious people alike. Secular notions of “tolerance” must evolve into acceptance, because “tolerance” is just a mask for grudging indifference.

Secular notions of “tolerance” must evolve into acceptance, because “tolerance” is a mask for grudging indifference. For Asian Americans, this means examining our communities in religious and spiritual contexts, especially as it relates to the experience of marginality. Interfaith as a mode of dialogue allows people of different religious backgrounds to see each others’ humanity and affirm it, and accomplish the goals of social justice through that solidarity. Interfaith dialogue, at the most basic level, seeks to acknowledge human beings, to touch their hearts and fulfill the desire to be seen.

Interfaith dialogue, at the most basic level, seeks to acknowledge human beings, to touch their hearts and fulfill the desire to be seen. But to love others deeply, Asian Americans must be willing to look at all of their identities and engage them. When Asian Americans seek to support Muslim communities, they cannot ignore how Islamophobia targets Muslims both in racial and religious contexts. The racial othering of Muslims and delegitimization of Islamic doctrine in the West feed into one another, and so Asian Americans must acknowledge Muslim communities as people and as practitioners of faith.4 Similarly, Asian Americans are often reluctant to address the history of

colonization and brutalization of Asian belief systems that brought them to Christianity, covering up a history of trauma bound up in religious belief. Discussions of cultural appropriation do not seriously engage the religions of Hindus and Buddhists, as their beliefs and symbols are distorted and their scholars disregarded. Asian Americans decry violence against Sikhs without seeking to know this community personally. Asian Americans seeking to know their communities so deeply would be a powerful demonstration of solidarity and affirmation. This interdependent relationship that Asian Americans have also means that we cannot ignore the intersections of spiritual identities with acts of oppression. When community members raise issues of clerical domination, patriarchy, or homophobia in faith communities, people within should attempt to systematically address them instead of glossing over them. Muslim feminist theologian Riffat Hassan tells us that “Without honest and deep self-probing and self-criticism, authentic dialogue with oneself or another is impossible.”5 We cannot be afraid to discuss our faults and our wrongdoings, for we risk perpetuating systems of oppression in doing so.

“Without honest and deep self-probing and self-criticism, authentic dialogue with oneself or another is impossible” - Riffat Hassan Interfaith dialogue is invaluable to the cause of Asian American solidarity, especially as various other issues attempt to divide us. Through interfaith, we can commune with each other’s values and see ourselves in others, and others in ourselves. But to clarify: this is not about Asian Americans needing to believe in God; interfaith engagement is fundamentally not about doctrine. Interfaith dialogue seeks to bring together people of diverse faith backgrounds to resolve critical issues

in their communities, asking themselves these questions: “What do your beliefs and mine say about serving others? About helping the marginalized? About the value of the world? How can we affirm each others’ humanity?” Interfaith dialogue presents itself as a unique tool for Asian Americans to build rapport between the various religious groups within the community, edging toward solidarity. Through the lens of interfaith engagement, we can have a more nuanced and critical view of our community’s issues, one which is rooted in compassion and recognition of one another.

Shashank is a senior in Global Liberal Studies, concentrating in Politics, Rights, and Development.

3 Kim, Seung Chul. “Bodhisattva and Practice-Oriented Pluralism: A Study on the Zen Thought of Yong Woon Han and Its Significance for the Dialogue between Christianity and Buddhism.”Buddhist-Christian Studies, vol. 18, 1998, pp. 191–205. 4 Khyati Y. Joshi (2006) The Racialization of Hinduism, Islam, and Sikhism in the United States, Equity & Excellence in Education, 39:3, 211-226. 5 “The Basis for a Hindu-Muslim Dialogue and Steps in the Direction from a Muslim Perspective,” in Religious Liberty and Human Rights in Nations and in Religions, Ecumenical Press, New York, 1986, pp. 125-141. Also published in Muslims in Dialogue: The Evolution of a Dialogue. READ OUR BLOG

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The Case for Asian American Interfaith Engagement 27


THE BURDEN OF PROVING YOUR OPPRESSION By: Michelle Zhang In 2001, the United States of America started the War on Terror, and it was widely hailed as salvation. Almost two decades later, the women and children that invasion promised to rescue stand at US borders, waiting patiently only to receive a denial. The 2016 presidential election cycle saw an uptick in anti-foreigner sentiment, with popular false narratives of deadly invaders from the Middle East and Central America. That same year, the accepted applications of refugee and asylum seekers plummeted while application numbers soared.1 Before the turn of the 20th century, the immigrants that populated the United States almost entirely hailed from Western European nations. However, the last 60 years have seen drastic changes in US immigration, as South American and Asian immigration began to rise in the 1960s. The differences within immigration trends don’t stop with demographic shifts, but expand with changes in the types of visas immigrants enter under: originally, most Asian immigrants came to the US on the support of work visas that focused on manual labor, evidenced by the influx of Chinese labor to California to build railroads for the Union and Central Pacific companies. However, with the increased standard of living and rise in higher education in Asia, the work visas that have

been issued to Asian immigrants are now predominantly student or highly-skilled worker visas.2 The H1-B visa started in 1990 as a way to allow “highly-skilled workers” who have specialized knowledge in a certain industry to work for US employers.3 In recent years, nearly three quarters of these visas go to Indian nationals.4 Furthermore, the Pew Research Center reported that between 2008 and 2016, “new foreign university student enrollment has increased by 104%, far outpacing overall college enrollment growth.”5 This was partly due to the Great Recession and funding cuts from public universities; foreign dollars were key to offset the domestic blowback from the housing market crash. According to Pew, students from China, India and South Korea accounted for more than half (54%) of all new foreign students pursuing higher education in the US in 2016.6 While holistic demographics show that Asian countries are the largest exporter of college students, it also hides the fact that only a small percentage of them have the resources to send their children off to elite universities, and their workers to large corporations. In reality, there are an increasing number of South and Southeast Asians whose narratives are erased when discussing Asian immigration. In 1980, the US Refugee Act was passed, “largely in response to the massive

In reality, there are an increasing number of South and Southeast Asians whose narratives are erased when discussing Asian immigration. waves of refugees coming to the US from Vietnam and Cambodia,” according to Pew.7 Passage of the Patriot Act following 9/11 saw a steep drop in approval of and asylum statuses, but there was a rise in 2008 when the US granted refugee status to thousands from Bhutan and Burma.8 Originally, the Refugee Act was part of the UN’s accord on the legal status of refugees and asylees, which stipulated that people fearing persecution for belonging to a particular social group had a legal right to seek asylum in other countries. The Trump administration added a new condition that one must show there is direct government persecution in their homeland—an almost impossible standard to take on. The stringent standards placed on proof of persecution is especially problematic when referring to Asian nationals, because oftentimes there is no direct persecution by their government, but rather a concentrated effort on crowding minority groups into concentrated areas,

1 Edwards, Adrian. “UNHCR Report Shows Leap in Asylum Applications for Industrialized Countries.” UNHCR. 2 “Chinese Immigration and the Transcontinental Railroad.” Immigration Direct. 3 Ruiz, Neil G., and John Gramlich. “4 Paths Highly Educated Immigrants Take to Study and Work in the U.S.” Pew Research Center. February 01, 2019. 4 Jan, Tracy. “This One Group Gets 70 Percent of High-skilled Foreign Worker Visas.” The Washington Post. April 03, 2017. 5 Ruiz, Neil G., and Abby Budiman. “Increase in Foreign Student Graduates Staying and Working in U.S.” Pew Research Center. September 18, 2018. 6 Ibid. 7 Igielnik, Ruth, and Jens Manuel Krogstad. “Where Refugees to the U.S. Come from.” Pew Research Center. February 03, 2017. 8 Ibid.

28 History and Contemporary Culture


Data from Pew Research Center.

degrading them to second-class citizens, and stripping them of potential for economic advancements. This is evident in the cases of the Lhotshampa in Bhutan, who have been one of the forefront receivers of asylee status in the United States, or the recent Rohingya refugees from Myanmar.9 Rohingya Muslims have been government

Oftentimes there is no direct persecution by their government, but rather a concentrated effort on crowding minority groups into concentrated areas, degrading them to secondclass citizens.

targets for decades, but with Aung San Suu Kyi’s political reforms in 2011, the ethnic minority group has been pushed out in a mass exodus.10 On top of the jarring violence and ethnic cleansing, there have also been critiques of lack of protection for Rohingyas still living in Myanmar, with the government refusing to address targeted military attacks towards Rohingyas.11 The standard for validating refugee and asylee applications clearly target those of Central and South American origin, but it also has resounding effects on those of Asian descent. The repeal of these stricter standards would not only help those directly affected by crime and gang violence in Central America, but also those victimized by persecution and government negligence in Southeast Asia. When the US shuts out those who only seek a fresh start, it calls into question not only our neglected

duty to international aid but also our moral standing as a purveyor of freedom. Michelle is a junior majoring in math and economics. She is a Scorpio.

9 Frelick, Bill. “Bhutan’s Ethnic Cleansing.” Human Rights Watch. April 17, 2015. 10 Associated Press. “Exodus Grows as Muslim Rohigya Flee Persecution in Myanmar Homeland.” The Japan Times. November 18, 2014. 11 Khan, Shehab. “Nobel Peace Prize Winner Aung San Suu Kyi ‘legitimising Genocide’ of Muslims.” The Independent. November 26, 2016. READ OUR BLOG

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The Burden of Proving Your Oppression 29


MORE THAN JUST INDIAN: SOUTH ASIAN ETHNOLINGUISTIC DIVERSITY

By: Nikhil Shivakumar “What are you?” As South Asian Americans, we hear that quite a lot. We often call ourselves “desi,” an umbrella term derived from the Sanskrit word for country. We often call ourselves “brown,” as our skin is usually some shade of brown, ranging from very light to very dark. And, often, we categorize ourselves by our home country. Perhaps we moved to America from there. Perhaps our parents did, or their parents did. But ultimately, for many of us, it stops at our home country when people ask us. We don’t go beyond that. But the reality is that we do go beyond that. There are over twenty commonly spoken languages in India. Other than English, I can’t really think of any language that would be understood across the entirety of India, something that many who aren’t exposed to those cultures have difficulty wrapping their heads around. South Asian history is rich with empires controlling different areas, fighting, falling, and rising again. This often led to ethnic and linguistic exchange. There are also two entirely separate language families that most South Asian languages fall under, called Indo-Aryan and Dravidian. Fun fact: the Indo-Aryan languages (including Hindi)

30 History and Contemporary Culture

Prominent Indian-American celebrities.

are actually more related to English and Spanish than the Dravidian languages, due to their completely separate origins. As you

Fun fact: the Indo-Aryan languages (including Hindi) are actually more related to English and Spanish than the Dravidian languages, due to their completely separate origins. can imagine, this ethnolinguistic diversity has also led to cultural diversity. When you mix in religion, caste, and colonialism, you get a population with well over a billion people that all have completely different cultures. Although South Asian emigration to the United States of America is storied, the largest spike was in the late 1990s and early 2000s during the internet boom, when many educated South Asians were able to fill newly available tech jobs. There were pockets of diverse groups: these immigrants sometimes came spread out, with many from different groups, and settled in

metropolitan areas. This would often lead to a more general “Desi American” community in those areas. Other areas saw more widespread immigration from certain groups across several generations, which made the communities far more stratified. One example is Chicago, which has separate Gujarati and Tamil communities. There are people in those communities who only speak to each other in that language when they are deeply involved, which is a stark contrast to the more general South Asian American communities, where people usually talk to each other in English. An interesting aspect of the linguistic diversity in the Desi American diaspora is that, oftentimes, it is ignored by those who should be the most aware of it: South Asians. Many, particularly from the northern area, expect all South Asians regardless of their specific ethnicity to understand Hindi. This is often not the case. I, for example, have a fairly limited understanding of Hindi that does not pass as conversational, and yet people who know me often speak Hindi to me and expect me to quickly understand and reply fluently, though this is not possible. Various communities in India have expressed dissatisfaction with the idea of Hindi being the default language, particularly the Tamil community, but the


issue is ultimately more complicated than most people understand. There are those who think that Hindi being the default is necessary, as there is no other regional language so commonly spoken, while people on the other side often feel that their identity is being erased along with their language. The reality is that there are many Desi Americans who speak Hindi to other Desi Americans so as to help connect to their community, but there are also many Desi Americans who feel alienated by what they feel is an erasure of identity. Ultimately, this is important because that South Asian Americans are often oversimplified by those around them. Media representation often glosses over the differences in the South Asian diaspora. Our image is very homogeneous, either relegated to an offensive stereotype or, in recent years, the new generation of comedians who are not distinguished by their specific ethnolinguistic origins. As a result, the usual view of Desi Americans does not include their regional identities.

Our image is very homogeneous, either relegated to an offensive stereotype or, in recent years, the new generation of comedians who are not distinguished by their specific ethnolinguistic origins. The rich diversity of South Asian Americans is, perhaps, our biggest asset. It’s quite frustrating to see this erased as often as it is, whether by fellow South Asians or those outside the community. However, at the end of the day, we know who we are. We are children of vast empires that grew and fell, descendants of kings and slaves, and will always find comfort in our heritage. I just hope that maybe, one day, we will be recognized as more than just “Indian.�

A visual representation of the ethnolinguistic diversity in India.

Nikhil Shivakumar is a freshman from the San Francisco Bay Area studying biomolecular science on the Pre-Medical track in NYU Tandon.

Indian American women displaying their identities.

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More Than Just Indian: South Asian Ethnolinguistic Diversity 31


DISCUSSIONS OF IDENTITY: THE ASIAN AMERICAN EXPERIENCE ACROSS CONTINENTS

Illustration by Evonne Lao.

By: Zoe Lee America trains you to be “AsianAmerican”—you never forget you’re Asian hyphen American. Not with the diversity discussions in schools, workplaces, and industries; or with social commentary in academia and on social media. Jenny, a Chinese NYU student, discerns this social phenomenon: “It was almost only after I went to school in the US that I used the word Asian to describe myself.” The UK, it seems, would do the same. “A lot of us are conditioned to think more about race, because those are the questions

America trains you to be ‘Asian-American’—you never forget you’re Asian hyphen American. they ask us when a person first introduces themselves to you; they’ll say who they are by saying what their name is and where they’re from and where they grew up,” said Sonja, a Chinese-German student at London University.

32 History and Contemporary Culture

Jason, a Chinese student also at London University, noted, “I still identify with Chinese people more than English people.” It seems as if the difficulties of Asian identity are shared across the Atlantic Ocean. One particular experience gave more complexity to this idea. In my modern history class, my white British professor tried to pronounce the name of a Chinese poet. He looked straight at me and asked, “Did I say that right?” “English is my first language,” I admitted. Confused, he said, “Well, you are Chinese, right?” Though I nodded and laughed this incident off later with a friend, I have long been embarrassed by my inability to speak Chinese because I lived in Hong Kong for nine years. I used to think about it all the time when I was in America. I think it’s because I was ashamed to speak a language other than English when I started elementary school in New York City—

ashamed of moments like when my first Chinese teacher in fourth grade asked me why I was in the beginner’s class. Alice, a Chinese student born and raised in New York, also experienced separation between identities. “Sometimes I feel like in America, I should do more American stuff. But I like Chinese stuff. I’m just afraid to be judged,” she said. At the same time, however, I’ve come to realize that the multitude of ways to be Asian American don’t need to be confined to an experience of shame or conflict over identity. Lavinia, a Chinese NYU student, said, “Sometimes, there’s so much emphasis and pressure on Asian Americans to talk about being Asian American, and how they’ve struggled with their identity. Though this is coming from a biased perspective, since I haven’t really ever felt ashamed of my identity, nor have been placed in a situation where I was forced to think negatively about it, [I still think] not everything about our childhood has to be sad and dramatic and filled with stories of us feeling lost in a sea of white people.”


Photo courtesy of University of Surrey.

Photo courtesy of Reuters.

Likewise, my own moments of conflict about being Asian American don’t plague me every minute of every day. But this conclusion is a hard one to arrive at because it requires re-evaluating the differences between my experiences and those of other Asian Americans, while acknowledging the familiar undertones of the Asian culture that still seep through conversations and across social media. My story will never be the same as Jenny’s, or Alice’s, or Lavinia’s. At the same time, it’s never completely different either. In essence, the UK—NYU London in particular, during my semester here— has lent me the space to contemplate the different ways of being Asian American, with so many other Asian Americans with differing thoughts and perspectives. Perhaps more importantly, the UK provided me the opportunity to meet British-born Asians—London students, this time—because this is also a conclusion that comes from listening to Asians who READ OUR BLOG

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do not hail from America. Layla, a Persian UK university student, shares her own experience: “At secondary school, because I went to a very white school, I was definitely

But this conclusion is a hard one to arrive at because it requires reevaluating the differences between my experiences and those of other Asian Americans. like, I’m not like these people. There’s definitely certain cultural differences. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think it’s really good that we have such a diversity of people at uni, different cultures, everyone has their own family traditions, whatever.” Here, Layla encountered the sense of difference Asian Americans had articulated before, but instead embraced

this difference as her own identity. “To who are you, where are you from,” Layla added after a meditative pause. “I always think, oh, I’m a student. That’s my first response. I’d say, like—” “Well, yeah,” Jason agreed. “Like, I’d say I’m a medical student.” “Right,” Layla nods. “That’s my main defining feature of my identity, and then I’d say where I’m from.” Lavinia’s identity, conversely, is rooted in her heritage, but she fully embraces all of it. “Honestly, I feel like a pretty even blend of Chinese and American,” she said, smiling. Zoe is a Chinese American sophomore majoring in History.

Discussion of Identity : The Asian American Experience Across Continents 33


THE WEIGHT By: Zoe de Leon

OF A BALIKBAYAN BOX

“Good luck living in the States. Everyone’s going to ask you for a balikbayan box.” My cousin may have been joking when he said this, but upon moving to New York, the wave of gift requests came pouring in. From cousins to relatives to my very own parents, everyone back in the Philippines was more than eager to request pasalubong (“souvenir gifts”) for whenever I returned home: teeth whitening strips, NYU hoodies, milk frothers, and even two dozen Levain cookies—yes, those famous giant, onepound chocolate chip cookies from the Upper West Side. Initially, it felt like a burden how undeniably right my cousin’s words were. As the newly-minted expat of the family, relocating to the land of Costco and American candy suddenly bestowed me with the unspoken duty of packing, preparing, and bringing home a balikbayan box. 1

Shyong, Frank. “These Boxes Are a Billion-dollar Industry

of Homesickness for Filipinos Overseas.” Los Angeles Times. April 28, 2018.

34 History and Contemporary Culture

The term balikbayan refers to a Filipino who is returning to the Philippines, usually after having lived abroad for an extended period of time. As these Filipinos head home, they typically bring with them large cardboard boxes filled with a variety of imported goodies as gifts for family and relatives awaiting their return. If these Filipinos can’t physically return to the country, they send a box or two in their place. As a result, overstuffed, battered cardboard boxes have become a regular fixture in airports all over the world, and the balikbayan box emerged as a national treasure. The practice of sending a box emerged as more and more Filipinos sought opportunities for a better livelihood in other countries.1 Many of these Filipinos send their earnings back to the Philippines to help underprivileged relatives and family staying behind in rural areas. To further encourage this practice, the government created programs like tax-free incentives and baggage allowances for overseas workers. The ideal balikbayan box is filled to the brim with a mystifying combination of imported gifts. Household goods like Colgate toothpaste and Dove bar soap are standard components, as well as the holy trinity of canned goods (Vienna sausage, corned beef, and SPAM). These are often crammed alongside more exciting gifts such as giant jars of Kirkland brand chocolate-covered almonds, Halloweensize Kit-Kats, coffee, wedged-in packs of cigarettes, clothes, toys, and any other special request that can survive the box’s thirty-day travel. When the box is complete—or,

when no space is left wasted—it is secured shut with rolls of clear tape, another layer of brown tape, and finalized with rope. There were times when I wondered if these boxes—filled with all things Americana—only further fed the complicated colonial mentality of Filipinos,

There were times when I wondered if these boxes— filled with all things Americana—only further fed the complicated colonial mentality of Filipinos. in which anything from the US is suddenly a coveted product. Part of the allure of receiving a box from abroad is that many of the brands being sent over aren’t readily available in the Philippines, resulting in a sort of power and exclusivity. Moreover, it seems bittersweet to send material gifts as the only compensation for the absence of a family member or loved one. But for many Filipinos who left their families behind in order to better sustain them, there is no malice attached to balikbayan boxes. Sending a box is their only way of overcoming both miles of distance and years of separation. A box packed with soap and chocolate has become their version of a postcard, or even a love letter. It’s a tangible display of a loved one saying, “I’m still thinking about you” and “Take care of yourself,” despite not being

A box packed with soap and chocolate has become their version of a postcard, or even a love letter. It’s a tangible display of a loved one saying, ‘I’m still thinking about you.’


Zoe (third from left) with her family.

physically present. In a culture where family is an integral part of life, bridging distance by sending gifts is the best way to love and feel loved. What I find most endearing about balikbayan boxes is that it reflects how distance doesn’t eliminate a Filipino’s duty and love for family. The uniqueness of these boxes is that most—if not all—of its expensive, imported contents aren’t for self-indulgence, but for the enjoyment of the people who you grew up with, took care of you, and constantly pray for your wellbeing. Although it can be an inconvenience to constantly receive gift requests for the next time I return home, perhaps lugging a box or two of chocolate chip cookies in JFK is the least I can do for the people I love. Zoe de Leon is a first-year student from Manila. She likes listening to ASMR and going out for brunch.

Some common items found in a balikbayan box.

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The Weight of a Balikbayan Box 35


GROWING PAINS

Illustrated photograph by author.

By: Jemara Sheely Home to me was always my parents. My Black-Thai father who typed away at his laptop, inputting strings of code and creating new experiments in our kitchen. My Filipina mother who ensured her lessons of love were rooted in the importance of family. Home was a symphony orchestrated in smells of freshly cooked rice, garlic, lemon, fish sauce, and fried oil, conducted by both my parents. I liked having this blend of cultures instilled in me. However, I did not begin to confront how this mixture amalgamated into a part of my identity until recently. My first year in college, it was as if my new independence placed a mirror in front of me and all I saw was a responsibility to understand what my identity meant. Lately, it has been an ongoing back-and-forth with these growing pains, of trying to understand what my version of being mixed means, and what I want to say within it.

36 Personal Essays and Storytelling

My new independence placed a mirror in front of me and all I saw was a responsibility to understand what my identity meant. I was not a part of any interracial/ mixed/biracial clubs or organizations in school. I had never met another mixed race Filipina student until high school. I had never really even been in conversations about being mixed race with other people my age or older. Unsurprisingly, this lack of exposure left me without the tools to communicate this aspect of who I am. My life has been a melting pot of both my parents’ cultures, mixed in with my own American upbringing. How do I begin to

decipher what that means personally, and what that may represent to others? Last year, my friend (who identifies as Tongan) helped me start addressing these questions by discussing her personal relationship with being Pacific Islander. For some reason, listening to a friend open up about her often-misunderstood identity enabled me to do the same with mine. I started realizing I did have something to say in conversations about our shared, yet different cultural backgrounds. Since that moment, it has been an overwhelming year of trying and failing to figure out what exactly that something I want to say is. I have learned that there is not a rulebook for mixed kids on how to be fully comfortable within the category of “other” we often occupy. It sometimes feels like existing on the fringes of multiple realms of identity, which at times can conflict with one another. Do you pick one? Do you pick


.Illustrated photograph by author.

them all? Are you welcomed in all of their respective communities, if they all matter to you? How do you encapsulate your blend of cultures for others to understand? And how do you express it for yourself? Obviously, I have a lot of questions. I don’t know if there are clear or universal answers. Perhaps confusion is a general experience for a period of time for those of mixed backgrounds. Maybe it is wrong to assume that other people of mixed race feel as I do in this moment. I just do not want to walk on eggshells for the rest of my college experience, striving to find validity in my voice as a mixed student of color— nor do I want to continue underestimating the place my voice has in any space, as a result of this realm of “other” I occupy. I do not want to feel as if my voice can only contribute in quarters or thirds of what it can fully be because of the intersections within my race. My mixed heritage has never felt like a barrier to me. At the same time, it hasn’t felt like a source of empowerment. Growing up in my household, I didn’t find hidden strength in this part of my identity. My parents were just my parents. My skin color, the way I talked, the food I ate at home—it was all just who I was. Walking through my life as a mixed race individual, unsure of where exactly I fit, has been about seeking personal comfort in my nonconformity. Whether I have been able to answer the questions streaming through my mind, or know what this part READ OUR BLOG

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of my identity means to the reflection in my mirror, simply acknowledging I have a place is the something I need to say.

My mixed heritage has never felt like a barrier to me. At the same time, it hasn’t felt like a source of empowerment. My positions as a person and student of color were never challenged because I never accepted I occupied these positions. I never thought my mixed background had a place in the room, or at the table. But the lessons and roots my parents gave me matter. The unique concoction of cultures they provided me matters. My mixed race matters. I understand acknowledging this is one step in a long path towards selfacceptance. But now, I accept I do have a place as a mixed race Filipina and Black woman. I do have something to say. Jemara Sheely is a visiting junior from Smith College. She likes photography, drawing, and writing. She also likes combining all those interests in attempts to try and sort through her identity crises.

Growing Pains 37


THE GIRL WITH

NO MAKEUP

By: Luopeiwen (Tina) Yi I’ve been told that I was not “pretty” since I was little. In China, the whiter a girl’s skin is, the prettier she is considered. From ancient Chinese tradition, rich people had light skin because they never worked in the fields like the peasants did. Nowadays, white skin remains a symbol of the higher class. On Chinese TV commercials, female stars popularized light, creamy skin. They looked totally opposite from me, for my

38 Personal Essays and Storytelling

Artwork by Sherry Zhang.

natural skin is dim and pale yellowish. To make my skin whiter, my mom always told me to put on skin whitening cream before going out in public. During the summer, I was not allowed to play freely outside because the sunshine would “damage” my skin color by turning it darker. But everything about these beauty standards changed after I came to America for high school. Pretty girls love bronzed skin here, and they go tanning or put

on makeup daily to make their skin look tanner. When I heard classmates talk in the hallways about tanning techniques and new tanning products, I felt surprised by how much definitions of beauty could differ. Once again, I was told that I was not “pretty” with my natural yellowish skin. For a long time, I was ashamed of myself. I hated how my natural appearance never seemed to fit into any category of beauty. I lost confidence for always being


I hated how my natural appearance never seemed to fit into any category of beauty. the plain and ordinary girl in the crowd, and I grew a strong desire to be “pretty” so I could be loved by everyone, just like all those popular girls were. In my junior year of high school, I learned to use makeup. Using foundation, highlights and contours, I was able to change my skin color freely to be whatever shade I wanted. With eyeliners, eyeshadows and lipsticks, I created all kinds of looks that fit into different cultural beauty standards. When I went to American friends’ parties, my skin was bronzed, with sexy eye makeup and full brows. When I went back to China in the summer, my skin was lightened, and my big double-eyelid makeup looked natural and cute. For the first time in my life, many people praised me as pretty. Even though makeup changed how I looked on the outside, it never changed my lack of confidence inside. Sometimes, I felt so strange and confused looking at my face in the mirror, wearing so many layers of makeup. Is this person really me, or is it just the so-called “pretty” girl in others’ eyes? As I constantly switched back and

looked different, but they were proud to show and embrace their true selves. It made me realize that it is not my looks that should make me confident, but my love for myself. I should be confident for who I truly am, not for others’ praise when I have makeup on. I started to walk out in public without makeup on, and I felt happy and free showing my own true self. There are thousands of types of beauty, and no one should be constrained by any standards imposed from the outside. The real beauty comes from self-love.

There are thousands of types of beauty, and no one should be constrained by any standards imposed from the outside. I am the girl without makeup on. I am pretty being who I truly am.

Luopeiwen (Tina) Yi is a freshman at NYU studying Economics & Politics. She was born in Anhui, China and has lived in New Jersey for four years before becoming a New Yorker. Besides writing, she is a big fan of art.

Is this person really me, or is it just the socalled “pretty” girl in others’ eyes? forth between “pretty American looks” and “pretty Chinese looks,” I felt trapped into different types of beauty standards. The “whitened” or “bronzed” makeup looks were like masks that labeled my beauty and forced me to fit in. By putting on makeup that completely concealed my natural appearance, I felt worthless, insecure, and anxious. Behind the makeup, what is my real beauty? My struggles regarding beauty were not solved until I came to New York. Walking across Washington Square Park, I saw all kinds of people from different nationalities, races and cultural backgrounds. They all

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The Girl With No Makeup 39


IMPOSTER SYNDROME

By: Margaret Yannopoulos Where did you get her from? curious strangers questioned my parents while the five, then seven, then ten-year-old me braced for their answer and the moment our not-so-secret secret would be revealed. Their response, we adopted her from China, was practically the tagline of my life. Of course, I always knew that I was adopted— how could I not after so many strangers’ interrogations? But for all I cared, the only difference between myself and my mother was the texture of our hair and the shape of our eyes. After all, I inherited so much of my mom’s personality that it was clear to me that I could be no one else’s daughter. However, after endless and relentless questions regarding my race and my identity, I have been made to feel like an imposter in my own skin. 40 Personal Essays and Storytelling

Unlike my parent’s straightforward admissions, I preferred to keep my adoption undisclosed, as nothing more than a footnote to my responses to questions such as, “Where are you from?” New York. “So, what are your parents?” Greek and Italian. In a way, these answers were true—except, they also weren’t. In reality, I didn’t know what else to be besides Greek and Italian. I didn’t want to be labelled an outsider— which is what all Asians and Asian Americans were to me—on a technicality. The only other Asian American I knew was a student in my middle school that I was routinely confused with, even though we looked nothing alike. It was not until high school that I was able to learn (alongside my non-Asian peers) from my new Chinese American

friends about aspects of the Asian American experience that I now consider key to my own identity. These friends, who graciously taught me how to unwrap an onigiri without ripping the seaweed, to puncture the lid of my bubble tea on the first try, and to flip the empty teapot lid over at dim sum, empowered me to explore my ethnic identity in ways that my own family could not. I needed this support since, unlike these friends whose Asian Americanness was not disputed, I did not feel that I could claim this identity as my own. Although I was happy that, when it was just me and my Asian American friends, we could jokingly be referred to as the “Asian Invasion,” I now felt like a Chinese American with an asterisk—this time, my white upbringing distinguishing me as a stranger. While my


friends found my interest in Asian culture charming, they could not understand the discord I felt when I was called a “fake” Asian.

I now felt like a Chinese American with an asterisk — this time, my white upbringing distinguishing me as a stranger. I felt especially conflicted when I audited Elementary Mandarin in college. In class, I confused my professor and classmates; whereas the other Chinese Americans had been exposed to the language all their lives, the only Mandarin I had ever heard was in the womb. During the first class when our professor asked us who already had a Chinese name, I had a quick internal debate. Technically, I did have a Chinese name. It was on my long expired Chinese passport, but I never knew how to write the characters, nor was I even sure how to pronounce it. When I heard my professor say my Chinese name, I realized that yes, neither I nor my parents had been saying it properly. I learned how to write my Chinese name; after a week of using the wrong characters, I finally figured out the strokes for 省英. Moreover, when reviewing for my final paper, my TA for the class Social and Cultural Analysis 101 complimented me, confessing that she enjoyed seeing other people of color succeed. Until the second half of college, I had never considered myself a minority, never mind a person of color. How could I? My mother had always told me that Asians have the best reputations, make the most money, and get the best jobs. When have you ever been denied something due to your race? she would (and continues to) ask me even after I tell her about the marginalization of Asians and racial minorities in this country. It was the summer before my junior year that I took a class at Hunter College and learned about the model minority myth, perpetual foreigner syndrome, racial triangulation, and other facets of Asian American history for the first time. The ideas put forth in this class offered me explanations for why I had always felt othered even as I clung to my white upbringing in order to be accepted in white spaces. READ OUR BLOG

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Compared to the days when I could forget I was Chinese if I did not see my reflection, I am now hyper-aware of my race. Although I believe there is no “right” way for me to identify, I feel the pressure to do so along racial lines because of the obvious visible connection I have to Asianness. In the face of that pressure, I wish I can continue to comfortably exist in this “grey” area—straddling my many worlds—because I am not ready to stop exploring what each of these identities signify to me.

I wish I can continue to comfortably exist in this “grey” area—straddling my many worlds—because I am not ready to stop exploring what each of these identities signify to me. For me, and the hundreds of thousands of other transracially adopted Asians in this country, I hope others will be willing to accept us as we are, instead of what they want us to be. Margaret is a senior studying History & Social and Cultural Analysis; she just finished her thesis—also on adoption.

Imposter Syndrome 41


IN MY OWN WORDS By: Mingyue (Selina) Deng I like to write. This is the sentence I tell everyone when they ask about my interests. I used to pride myself in winning every writing prize there was in elementary school—at least, during the period when I lived in China. Maybe this is why I never had the confidence to write in English when I was a child; I saw too much success writing in Chinese, and did not yet know how to speak English very well. That was the first defeat I ever recognized in my life: I could not write in English even if I wanted to. So, when I had the opportunity in fifth grade to write a piece about Chinese New Year for a newspaper column, I chose to write in Chinese, the language I was and still am most familiar with. I still remember the excitement of sending out my first piece of writing into a public atmosphere without being graded, and the fear of not being accepted. The moment I pressed the “send” button on that email with my piece

42 Personal Essays and Storytelling

attached was my moment of breakthrough.

That was the first defeat I ever recognized in my life: I could not write in English even if I wanted to. It was a split-second decision to write a piece about the Chinese New Year. There were always moments when I wanted to write something down, so I started writing whatever came into my mind. Writing the first part of the piece was easy, as it was what first popped into my mind. Then I had to think about how to continue; I did not yet know how to write an outline, and I did not know where to end. I just kept writing as the ideas came. It was a short process, and I was very satisfied with the piece; I didn’t even correct anything before I sent it. My

first draft was the final draft. I remember typing on the only computer we had in the house, which was mainly used by my older brother. My mom was cooking in the kitchen, and my older brother was helping her. I remember the feeling of not wanting to get caught. Now when I think of it, it was silly because I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I might have felt embarrassed afterwards, but in the moment I just wanted to get the ideas out. When I read the piece now, I can still feel the embarrassment I felt when I was writing it. I pursued my passion for writing by learning how to write in English. I was not as strong a writer in English as in Chinese, and sometimes I could not get my ideas out in the right way. Thus, I made a choice to write in the simplest way with no big words, no beautiful grammar, and no wordiness or complex sentence structures. It was after I entered high school that my ninth grade


English teacher taught me how to write academic pieces. And it was because of him that I could continue my passion for writing in both languages. Though I have been living in the US for ten years, I still see myself as more Chinese than American. Most Americans I meet assume I am Chinese, although I am also a US citizen. Most Chinese people I meet think I am American, and are very surprised at my fluent Chinese. I have never became a true American at heart like most of my

fifth grade in Chinese, I felt excitement pouring through my body. However, now when I write in English for school or for other purposes, I still feel the fear and confusion I felt writing my first English essay in middle school. I still keep a picture of that first piece of Chinese writing I sent to the newspaper. I am a person with more love towards the past instead of the future, but I want my passion for writing to continue in the future and grow even bigger than before.

I have never became a true American at heart like most of my friends have. Mingyue Deng is currently a sophomore studying in Media,

friends have. They hurried to assimilate themselves into American culture, and by my definition, forgot who they really were before that. Yet, I recognize that people’s ways of life and cultural identification are a personal choice, just like I made my choice writing in Chinese rather than in English. When I decided to write my piece from READ OUR BLOG

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Culture, and Communications.

In My Own Words 43


WHERE THE

SUN SETS By: Ryan Yi

Dear Stranger, It feels odd to write a letter I know you will likely never read, but I felt I had to put these feelings somewhere. Ink is as good a place as any. I’m also procrastinating on an essay due in about three hours, but that’s one thing and this is another. I am sitting in a cafe near campus as I write this letter. You know the one; the quiet little cafe where I saw you for the first time. On that languid summer day, I saw you in a booth here by the window, reading a book. It is because of you, because of that book, that I am writing this letter. The summer I turned ten, my parents split up for good. I spent five years sitting in cars going between their houses, and in those years the scenery outside the window never once felt familiar. It was around that time that I stole a book from the school library. I like to think I was a pretty well-behaved kid, but I committed this small crime for love. The

44 Personal Essays and Storytelling

book was a small, unassuming thing called The Traveling See. It was a collection of short stories about a man who is cursed by a witch, so that he could never stay in one place for more than one year. In a way, I hated that I fell in love with this little book. Driven by the curse, the man is forced to leave his village behind. Yet the saddest part of the story is not the curse, but that no one was willing to go with him, to leave everything behind to stay by his side. I went back every week, reading a new story from the book each time. Sometimes he went to far-off lands where only the most alien creatures roamed. Other times he explored places very much like home. But never once did it last. Part of me thinks I only kept reading to see if he would ever know peace, if it was even possible for people like us. After those five years my grandparents offered to raise me, and I was shipped off

across country. Before I left, I snuck into the library and stole The Traveling See. It was the only thing I took with me on that long, long car ride, a ride littered with unfamiliar scenery. My grandparents were good to me, and I loved them dearly—when my grandfather passed, I felt my heart break in a completely different way. And when the grief passed, I was left with nothing but exhaustion. It seemed that everything was slipping away from me. At that point there was only one chapter left in the book that I hadn’t read. To this day, I still haven’t finished that final story. In a life that has always been unfamiliar, maybe I wanted to cling to this one thing. The last line I ever read from that

In a life that has always been unfamiliar, maybe I wanted to cling to this one thing.


Artwork by Pascal Campion.

book was this: I have seen the entire world, but the world does not see me. What if I turned the page and saw that as I feared, the world was indeed blind to you and me? I was like a balloon some careless kid had let go of, floating aimlessly, on the verge of collapse. And it was in that turmoil that I came here, and saw you reading The Traveling See.

What if I turned the page and saw that as I feared, the world was indeed blind to you and me? Laugh at me if you want, but I think I fell in love with you in that instant. In my entire life I’d never once seen another copy of that book. I came back every day to this cafe, and every day you were here, reading the next part of the story. And ever so READ OUR BLOG

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slowly, you became familiar to me. I spent a lot of time watching you read. I had so many questions I wanted to ask you, but no courage to ask them. I was just happy to see someone else reading that story, and despite knowing nothing else about you, it was enough for me to feel a sort of love. How did you feel during the story when he met the crippled woman? She loved him so deeply; she was the only person, as far as I know, willing to follow him anywhere. But she was crippled, so it pained her to walk, and it pained him to learn that sometimes love doesn’t conquer distance. I wonder if you spent the rest of the book wondering about her, as he and I did, wondering what could have been. I would have been content to watch you read that story forever. But one day you just stopped coming. It’s been months now, as I sit here writing this to you. Part of me thinks you stopped coming because

you finished the book. Maybe you read something in that final story that freed you from returning to this place. If I go back and read it, if I see what you saw, will I be freed too? If by some miracle we meet again, I hope it is somewhere far from here. Someplace where the sun sets and we don’t worry about when it’ll rise again. I’ll tell you about tonight and laugh when I see how little those days meant to you, and how little they will one day mean to me. Ryan is a junior studying Finance and Accounting. This is the first story he has written in over a year.

Where the Sun Sets 45


MEDIA HIGHLIGHT MEDIA TEAM

46 Media Highlight

Co-Editors: Jenny Du Megan Liao Deputy Editor: Kelly Sheng

Media Team Members: Alex Boyd Chelsea Li Joey Li Joseph Lee Zoe De Leon Marva Shi Alyanna De Vera Alice Ye


check out our videos at youtube.com/nyugenerasian

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Media Highlight 47


BLOG HIGHLIGHT:

generasian.blog Sharing Asian American Voices at NYU HOME

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Music Monday: Jvcki Wai BY KELLYCHONIM MARCH 4, 2019

During recent years, Korean hip-hop has enjoyed tremendous popularity. And while names such as Jay Park, Epik High, or Dok2 might sound familiar, unless you are an avid follower of Korean hip-hop, you probably haven’t heard of Jvcki Wai (Jvcki pronounced ‘Jacky’). I discovered Jvcki through popular rap crew Indigo Music, which houses some of Korea’s freshest rising underground artists, such as Kid Milli, Young B, and NO:EL. Jvcki stands out (to me) from the rest of the Indigo crew as she is the only female rapper. Beside her addictive flow, I simply love her raw energy, unconventional dance moves, and overall hypnotizing stage presence. Her lyrics, on the other hand, are often relatable to the chaotic lives of young adults in their 20s. In her most recent release “띵” or “Dding” (featuring Young B, Osshun Gun, and Han Yo Han), she spits an iconic line, “You said female rappers only last 2 years, but I’m still here holding on for 5 years”, criticizing the often egocentric male-dominated hip hop scene in Korea.

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Asians Slaying New York Fashion Week BY PHOEBECHUANG FEBRUARY 22, 2019

New York Fashion Week just came to an end and we were so excited to see more and more Asian models being represented. Did you spot any of these gorgeous faces? 1. Liu Wen Walking for Longchamp, Marc Jacobs and Michael Kors? Can Liu Wen get any more perfect? Starting her modeling career in 2005, she has thrived ever since. She is the first East Asian model to walk the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show and the first Asian model to make Forbes’ annual highest-paid models list. She first attended Fashion Week in Paris in 2008, and since then, she’s become the top choice for every prominent fashion show.

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Western cinema shows signs of Chinese influence, yet still lacks diversity BY CHSINGDODGE MARCH 28, 2019

If you’ve gone to see a movie in the theaters at any point in the past 10 years, chances are you may have picked up on the increase in subtle aspects of Chinese culture in Hollywood movies. From almost unnoticeable elements like Miles Morales using QQ–a messaging app popular among teens in China–in Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse, to huge plot points like China swooping in to save the day in the third act of The Martian, back in 2015, these scenes are like bread crumbs being left in our movies, but what are they leading to? When I first noticed more aspects of Chinese culture in Hollywood productions, I didn’t think much of it. When I did stop to consider it, I simply appreciated what I assumed was an effort to make films more diverse and appeal to a larger audience. After all, Chinese audiences have always had a voracious appetite for film, and the country is expected by industry professionals to soon have the biggest cinema market out there, so it would seem only natural for Hollywood to decide to throw those audiences a bone every now and then.

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