I found myself in a bar, dancing for a tip, cheong sam slit to my hip, or in a brothel, compliant and uncomplicated, high-heeled in bed, wiping some imperialist's lips with hot scented towels (1995).
-Janice Mirikitani
Firstly,Iwouldliketorespectfullyacknowledgethatthiszinewascreatedon the traditional, ancestral, stolen, and current lands of the Monacan Tribe. My ability to create this zine here in Charlottesville and UVA is predicated on the dispossession and displacement of the Monacan Tribe. As an Asian American engaged in racial and gender politics, I recognize that the Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) movement for social justice may not align with the struggles for Indigenous sovereignty and self-determination. Furthermore, while a land acknowledgement is not enough, I believe it is an important decolonial practice that promotes Indigenous visibility and reminds us that we are on unceded Indigenous land. I urge you to also reflectonthecolonialhistoriesofthelandsyouoccupy.
This zine serves as my final project for PHIL 3810: Sex, Sexuality, and Gender, taught by Professor Elizabeth Barnes at the University of Virginia (UVA). With this zine, I intend to explore and invite nuanced, critical conversationsaboutthehypersexualityofAsianwomenanditsintersection with identity, power, and politics. How do Asian/American women negotiate/challenge/uphold/complicate their identities as fetishized bodies under capitalism? What common tropes and stereotypes discipline and police the racialized bodies of Asian women? Should we politically interrogate discriminatory patterns of attraction? While these are a few of the many questions I attempt to answer throughout my zine, my research andsubsequentanalysisoftenbegetmorequestionsthananswers
Nevertheless, in this zine, I analyze the relationship between hypersexuality and agency in conversation with Miranda Fricker’s theory of hermeneutical injustice and the well-known phenomenon of Asian Female White Male (AFWM). I trace how the cultural construction of Asian American women as hypersexualfindsitsrootswithinpopularmedia,suchasfilms.Finally,Iend with a commemoration of the eight individuals, six of whom were Asian women, that were brutally murdered on March 16, 2021. The Atlanta spa shootings grimly remind us that the hypersexuality of Asian women has tangibleeffects—evendeadlyones.
Thebodyisnotaneutralsite.Rather,thebody—moldedbyhistoryand
power dynamics—is a locus of oppression. Forces such as colonialism, capitalism, and heteropatriarchy work together to shape and discipline the racially marked and sexualized Asian/American female body. These forces inscribe hypersexuality onto the bodies of Asian/American females, rendering them victim to racial fetishization. As defined by Robin Zheng, a racial fetish is the “exclusive or near-exclusive preference for sexual intimacy with others belonging to a specific racial out-group” (401). The data that men of all races— except Asian men—respond the most to Asian women on dating apps captures the ubiquity of Asian fetishization (King). Asian fetishization is not a case of flattery but a denial of intrinsic humanity and personhood. Especially since the hypersexualization of Asian women, and subsequent fetishization, causes Asian womentobecometargetsofhateandsexualabuse.
Yet, the fetishization and objectification of Asian women is not new. From European explorers in the Middle Ages to US military occupation around East and Southeast Asia, individuals have long fetishized Asian women as sexualized objects. Systems of prostitution began to proliferate around US military bases, where Filipina sex workers report “being treated like a toy or pig by the American [soldiers]” (Woan 285). These sexually denigrating stereotypes of Asian women eventually became entrenched in American society through the passageofrestrictiveAsianimmigrationlaws.Forinstance,thePageActof1875 presumed Asian female immigrants were prostitutes and prevented them from enteringtheUS.
While the problem of fetishization has existed for centuries, Asian/American women still find it challenging to identify. Often, the distinction between a romantic preference and fetish becomes blurry and unclear. Faced with overwhelming uncertainty, Asian/American women in the dating scene must oftengrapplewiththequestion:dotheygenuinelylikeme,orisitfetishization?
As previously established, Asian/Americanwomennavigate the dating scene with the additionalburdenofgrappling with their perceived hypersexuality. Yet, one might argue that many Asian/American women remain oblivious to how their race, gender,andculturalbackground influence their romantic relationships. Miranda Fricker’s theoryofhermeneuticalinjustice might help explain such unawareness. According to Fricker, hermeneutical injustice occurs when a marginalized individual is systematically unabletofullycomprehendtheir ownexperiences,especiallythose related to their social identity, becauseof“prejudicialflawsin shared resources for social interpretation”(1).
ForthecaseofAsian/American women,traditionalnarrativesof racial discrimination tend to exclusively focus on Black or Latinxexperiences,inadvertently obscuringthecenturiesofracial abuseAsian/Americansundergo. Thus, Asian/Americans suffer from a double invisibility—an erasurewithindominantWestern academicdiscoursesandracial minority culture. This double erasurecontributestothesilence andacceptancesurroundingthe unspoken issue of fetishization towardsAsian/Americanwomen. Remaining “on the margins of contemporary academic philosophy” (Zheng 401), Asian/Americanwomenareleft unequipped with the social vocabulary necessary to understand and process the many instances of fetishization theymayencounter.
However, one could also weaponize thetheoryofhermeneuticalinjustice toaccuseAsian/Americanwomenof lacking racial consciousness and agency when dating. In particular, the Asian Female White Male (AFWM)phenomenongarnersmuch attention—andcritique.
AFWM describes the phenomenon of Asian women exclusively or commonly dating white men. As if navigatingamalegazethatexoticizes and fetishizes you is not enough, Asian women also face scrutiny for “betraying” their Asian identity and dating outside their race. When the award-winning Chinese-American novelist,CelesteNg,marriedawhite male,manyinsistedshehatedAsian menandherself.InaRedditthread on Jenn Fang, an Asian-American activist who married a Black man, one Redditor critiqued her “Asian female privilege," while another claimed"sheprobablydatedavillage
of White guys before she dated the blackguytobe‘edgy.’”
Another Redditor remarked: “Anything but an Asian man right?”
In fact, most of the backlash Asian women face for their dating preferencescomesfromAsianmen. When Asian women date outside their race, Asian men often assert something along the lines of “you should be dating me, not these others.” Where does this sense of entitlement espoused by Asian men comefrom?
Theanswer:conventional stereotypessurroundingmasculinity.
While Asian women often face hypersexualization,Asianmensuffer from the opposite stereotype of beingdesexualizedbecauseoftheir
perceivedfemininityandinfantility. The resulting “undesirability” of Asian men often puts them at a disadvantage, from academics to worktodatinglife.
Withanoverwhelmingemphasison AFWM, Asian men can sometimes feelthattheyareatthebottomofthis hierarchy of desires. Moreover, by dating or marrying out of the race, Asianwomensupposedlyperpetuate the stereotype that Asian men are undesirable, even by members of their own race.
non-Asian man does not preclude criticizingtheemasculationofAsian men. We can deconstruct how internalizedracismaffectsour
-personal relationships and stand in solidarity on Asian/American issues withoutimplyingownershipofAsian women by Asian men or that Asian womenareincapableofthoughtfully engaging with these topics themselves. We should explore AFVM as a way to think more critically of the power and racial dynamics inherent in these relationships—not to shame Asian women for having a diminished abilitytomakedecisionsabouttheir romantic relationships. Besides, when we police who Asian women should/shouldnotdateorengagein “racializedslutshaming,”weuphold
While the exact origins of Asian female fetishization in America remainhighlycontested,CelineParreñasShimizuarguesthatpostwar film and artwork played a significant role in popularizing the tropeofthehypersexualyetdocileAsianwoman.Frommusicalsto popular movies to pornographic material, American cultural production paradoxically constructs the Asian/American female aseitherthe“dragonlady”or“lotusblossom.”
Seductive and cold, the dragon lady portrays East/South/Southeast Asian women as domineering and sexually alluring. Meanwhile, the lotus blossom stereotype depicts East Asian women as feminine, exotic, and submissive. Within popular media, the docile lotus blossom interweaves with the provocative dragon lady to constitute Asian/American women as a sexual model minority—“ideal in their union of sex appeal with familycenteredvaluesandastrongworkethic”(Zheng405).Facedwith the dichotomy between the dragon lady and lotus blossom, Asian/American women often struggle to make sense of their identityandbelonging.
In the first major Hollywood musical featuring an all-Asian cast, Flower Drum Song features Nancy Kwon as the sexually liberated and ostensibly assimilated Linda Low. With her alluring gazes and seductive dance moves, Linda Low impeccably embodies the dragon lady stereotype. However, Linda's celebration of her hypersexuality has detrimental effects on her ultimate goal: assimilating into society as a white woman. In order to assimilate successfully, Linda believes she must assert her gender over her race. Linda’s insistence of her gender becomes especially evident in her famous performance of “I Enjoy Being a Girl,” where she flaunts her body in a short white towel. Despite her earnest attempts to transgress her race, Linda must ironically embrace her hypersexuality as an Asian female in order to do so. From my reading of Linda, her hypersexuality allows her to achieve white beauty standards but at the expense of simultaneously reaffirming her Asian heritage. This interpretation demonstrates the gendered and racialized dimensions of hypersexuality for Asian-appearing females—you cannot assert one dimension and escape the other. One’s sexuality as an Asian/American female becomes ascribed to her particular raced and gendered ontology.
Growing up, I remember admiring Lucy Liu and her ruthlessness in Charlie’s Angels. Wielding chains and kicking in mid-air, Lucy commanded my attention accordingly. My favorite movie is still Kill Bill, where Lucy embraces her kimono-clad femme fatale and slices men’s heads without hesitation. Confronted with the many narratives of Asian female passivity, I savored every bit of the Asian dominatrix/sex queen embodied by Lucy. However, after learning of the harms of hypersexuality tropes, I began to question if my admiration for Lucy's roles is conducive to a liberatory racial and feminist politics. Shimizu also questions how we should “reconcile the guilt that haunts our enjoyment of sexual performances with our admiration of the celebration of sexuality in the performances of, say, Nancy Kwan and Lucy Liu?” (3). While I am still grappling with this question, I am certain of one thing— contradictorily appreciating problematic tropes does not always signify false consciousness. Agency does not always entail resistance to norms, as is typically assumed. Nevertheless, it is imperative to give Asian/American women their voice back to create and shape their own narrative, regardless of whether it endorses or denies the hypersexuality trope.
There is a long history of Asian exoticism, not only of the supposed hypersexuality of Asian women but also of their demure and compliant nature. Arguably, the stereotype of the “Lotus Blossom” began with the character of Lotus Flower herself in Toll of the Sea. In her first starring role, Anna May Wong plays Lotus Flower, a young Chinese woman madly in love with Allen Carver, an American man she happened to save from drowning. After willingly offering her son to Allen’s wife, Lotus drowns herself in a tragic act of suicide. This film sits uncomfortably with me, as any story that revolves around an Asian woman loving a white man to the point of giving her child to him and killing herself would.
Besides sparking Anna’s long-lived career in Hollywood, Toll of the Sea also marked the beginning of a trend of killing off Asian women in films. Wong herself once bitterly commented that she “died a thousand deaths,” as she was dead by the end of every film she acted in. The trope of a subservient Asian woman willing to risk her life for an American man undoubtedly has troubling implications for Asian/American women. The binary between the lotus blossom and the dragon lady further confines the sexual possibilities for Asian/American women. Racist fantasies propagate the myth that Asian women are either naively submissive or insanely hypersexual. The truth is, Asian women are all and none of these things—the binary cannot contain the radical diversity of Asian/American female sexuality.
Popular American media clearly fails to represent the Asian/American female as complex racialized, gendered, and nationalized subjects. Instead, they present the Asian/American female body as a site for aesthetic fetishism to be devoured by voyeuristic American viewers. However, American viewers can only satisfy their fetishistic desires from a limited range of fantasies: Dragon Lady, Lotus Blossom, Geisha Girl, Madame Butterfly, and China Doll. Whether delicately or dangerously sexual, the Asian/American female body only becomes legible through their sexuality. Their sexuality and aesthetic fetishism are markers of difference that enchant viewers and cause the sexualized Asian/American female to become hyper-visible. And yet, the actual Asian/American female remains largely invisible from contemporary society in almost every realm—legal, academic, social, and professional. With the disciplinary stereotypes of Dragon Lady and Lotus Blossom threatening to police their bodies, Asian/American females often find that their sexual narrative has already been written for them, but not by them.
“Asian women are depicted as the objects of sexual desire but rarely as the subjects or agents of that desire” (Azhar).
On a bad day, I’ll grab my favorite Starbucks order and turn on a cheesy romcom movie. Or maybe I’ll go on a long run. If I’m feeling especially down, I might decompress by taking a nap. No matter how bad my day is, however, I do not murder eight innocent individuals, unlike Robert Aaron Long.
Apart from affecting the agency and self-perception of Asian/American women, the trope of hypersexuality can also have deleterious effects on their material well-being and safety. The 2021 Atlanta spa shootings are a grim reminder of this.
I would like to first express my most sincere condolences to the eight victims and their families. The victims’ names are Soon Chung Park, Hyun Jung Grant, Suncha Kim, Yong Yue, Delaina Ashley Yaun, Paul Andre Michels, Xiaojie Tan, and Daoyou Feng. On March 16, 2021, a self-described sex addict, Robert Aaron Long, targeted three massage parlors and brutally murdered these eight individuals. According to the police, the sex-addicted white perpetrator was having a “bad day” and desired to “eliminate the temptation” (Graziosi). His temptation was Asian women. He fetishized Asian women to the extent that he could no longer let them live. It is no coincidence that six out of the eight victims were Asian women employed at the spas.
Long’s “temptation” echoes the legacy of the historical, legal, and cultural constructions of Asian women as hypersexual. Being a “sex addict” is neither a valid excuse to justify taking eight lives nor does it shield him from accusations of being a racist. To downplay race and highlight the gendered nature of his violence, Long pointed toward his “sex addiction” as a primary motivator. Long’s emphasis on his “sex addiction” distracts us from the gendered and racial dimensions of the case. There is a tendency to frame the violence against hypersexualized Asian women as merely an issue of race or gender. However, the Atlanta murders represent neither just gender nor just racial animus. Rather, they reflect how race and gender intersect in complex ways to render Asian women especially vulnerable to violence. This shooting spree was not an anomaly but one of the many gendered and racialized acts of violence that continues to haunt Asian women across space and time.
We are not your scapegoats.
