This time around I know it's wrong, and this time the is 'theme' on Asians (we're a theme?).
I could be angry. I do think it's offensive. But if I were called to defend why, I don't know if I'm quite ready. So instead I read again on cultural appropriation, even distantly-related articles about its use of Native American culture in fashion.
Then I think back on how the Spanish Club in high school was dominated by Asians, and how eight of us girls did a dance for Spanish Club for International Day. Our Korean friend choreographed it with simple jazz dance moves to a Spanish-speaking song. I remember thinking as a junior that something was wrong with a Spanish Club being surrounded by all Asians trying to talk about and embrace Spanish culture. It was great sophomore and junior year, when Senora Diaz took us to see the murals in the Mission district, explaining the stories behind the colors and painted faces. Or when we went to her house to make tamales, with the corn meal oozing through our fingers as we tried figuring out the magical amount to put in each corn husk. And when she gave the exec team blankets at the end of the year, she made us promise to use them well and not just for any college party on the beach.
But senior year as we students ran the club--Who among us were Latino? Who even had real friendships with Latinos? If our club existed to experience and explore the culture, how could we call the shots when we didn't know it ourselves? Privileged majority, we Asian students were. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the dance that we all knew was in no way representative of Latin Dancing (I wondered if they were laughing in the audience). I'm sorry it wasn't a welcoming place for actual Spanish speakers. I'm sorry we hung out as a club, did a few things with a Spanish-like-twist, and put a label on it without thinking twice. I'm sorry we didn't search out your voices so we could hear from one who knew.
The sad thing is, I would have scoffed then if the situation were reversed: if anyone but Asians decide to cook Chinese food, throw a Chinese New Year celebration, or wear a qípáo (旗袍), I would probably laugh. I might shake my head that they're even trying on their own. I would (and still have) a distrust of anyone trying to represent or experience my culture without someone Chinese actually there, because there's a lot that they just wouldn't understand. Yet I was in a whole club trying to do just that.
These days I know a little better. These days, depending on the situation, it's not enough to laugh at their pitiful attempt (that's what I am thinking sometimes). There is a category for "people pretending to be Asian", for drawing on stereotypes, for disrespecting culture...Asians or otherwise: Wrong. Racist. Insensitive.
But though I scramble through mixed feelings, look at pictures and posts that mock languages and dress of people I know (heck, my family even), I can't find words for it. I uselessly and pathetically scroll through user comments that go nowhere, that repeat the same arguments that just aren't helpful. When I find an eloquent, informed rebuttal, my brain wants to cling to it like gold. If only I could remember that that's why this matters, this is different, this is why it's wrong. If only I too could stand and say, "No. This is not okay."
But I'm not ready. I don't quite know how to put words together, so instead, my brain scrambles to put together thoughts, lessons, snippets:
Intent is irrelevant.
Privileged majority, and how speaking from that place means being blind to minority voices.
"It's not a big deal."
"Are you saying everyone who ____ is racist?"
It is not okay for the majority to tell the minority what they should or should not be offended at.
Listening humbly.
White privilege, and the difference between, "What if people dressed up Italian/French/English?" in comparison to a person of color. Such a painful, complicated discussion. It's not the same.
An attitude of individualism in defenses: "Well I don't think it's offensive."
Thoughts on cultural intelligence.
The difference between a person representing his or her own culture, and someone else imitating it.
One day soon, maybe I will be ready to speak. I will be ready to say, "No. This is not okay", and defend why. My feelings and gut reactions will be tied to reason, thoughts, experiences. I will add my voice to the conversation: not for the sake of a social media blowup, an situation gone viral, or a forced conclusion. I will add my voice because the voices need to rise, to speak. Because there are even people in my own life who need to know.
And more importantly, as we sit in the brokenness of this world, the reality of racism, and the forever-long road of reconciliation, understanding, and multi-ethnicity...as we say we need a solution to all this, this stuff that keeps happening over and over again...my voice will whisper the only answer: Jesus. Christ, the anointed, the savior of the world, who redeems our failures and gives grace for our ignorance. I love because he first loved, I can forgive because he forgave. And I can listen for the voices that aren't quite heard yet, just as he sought out the ones who weren't at the table and gave them a place. And I can cry at the misunderstanding, stereotypes, and racism that are associated with me, because he knows. He created this and this Asian-American culture was chosen. This Chinese-Malaysian-American blend is beautiful. Oh Creator.
I put fire on your tongue for your first language still remaining.
I gave you a voice so use it, because your people need you now.
_________I realize how this post comes two days after returning from a Latino/Chicano conference. Interesting how that works, huh?
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