Marriage Equality: A Movement for Equality and Justice for All
As a gay Asian American, I cannot think about marriage equality without also thinking about my parents, who, through a near impossible marriage, immigrated to the States and worked tirelessly as garment and restaurant workers to raise me and my two siblings. They raised us to be talented artists and mathematicians, always humble, and always aware of our heritage. We are the biggest reason why they continue to work hard. They want me to have a family and share the same joys they get from us. Unfortunately, the fight against marriage equality threatens to keep me and those in my community from marrying who we love. For this reason, and given that LGBTQ couples face the same barriers that have historically denied API’s the right to marry, marriage equality should be considered a fundamental right. The legacy of racial injustice against API’s and the injustices caused by marriage inequality provides our community with the imperative to form coalitions in order to not only legalize marriage equality, but to form a movement for equality and justice for all.
Just as Brown v. Board of Education ruled that separate schools for separate racial groups is racial discrimination, marriage inequality is sexual discrimination.[i] Marriage allows couples to show their commitment to each other to their loved ones, security for building a family, and importantly, acceptance into society. Invariably, denying us that right denies us from being seen as equal citizens of this country. I believe that obtaining marriage equality is but one step to a greater vision of social justice, but in order for the movement to begin, we must first rearticulate the consciousness of our own community and to do so is to illuminate past injustices toward API’s in parallel to the discourse of marriage equality today.
The 1875 Page Act prevented Japanese and Chinese women from immigrating.[ii] The 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act critically curtailed the number of Chinese families settling in the States.[iii] As a result of anti-miscegenation laws and migratory contract labor, many Filipinos died as bachelors.[iv] In short, while API’s were seen as “useful” for their labor, they were not deemed worthy of integration. Before Loving v. Virginia struck down anti-miscegenation in 1967, legal discourse believed that API’s who intermarried with whites were un-Godly, unnatural, and created unhealthy children. The same “reasons” ring true today to justify marriage inequality.[v] bell hooks puts it best, “until we are able to accept the interlocking, interdependent nature of systems of domination and recognize specific ways each system is maintained, we will continue to act in ways that undermine our individual quest for freedom...” [vi]
Those who advocate for marriage “protection” place emphasis on maintaining healthy children, but the consequences of not humanizing, and normalizing various sexualities leads to the detriment of those we all care about the most. This April, two 11-year-old boys, Carl Walker-Hoover and Jakeem Herrera hanged themselves because of homophobic bullying at school. [vii] Thus, marriage equality is not merely about who should or should not be married but it invariably speaks to a vision of greater societal tolerance. hooks writes, “the capacity for empathy needed for the building of community is diminished when we think of ‘us/them.’” Not only are children harmed, but loving couples and families are torn apart. Asian American historian, Helen Zia, said, “Marriage…is a bonding of two families…My mother’s inability to say that [I am] married prevents her from sharing … the pride and joy…that she would have if [my] union [was] recognized as a marriage by society.”[viii]
My parents married because they were lucky. They fell in love but my grandfather did not approve of my father and forced him to sign a contract agreeing that he would never come near my mother again. Soon after, my mother left for America and my father forced himself to forget her. My mother, however, in her new home in Sacramento, could not forget the man she loved. A family friend noticed that she was upset and asked if she had a boyfriend. My mother said, "Even if I did, why does it matter?" It was this family friend who convinced my grandfather to allow the marriage. After one year, my mother flew back to China and married my father... and the rest is history. But what if the contract my father signed stood? What if my grandfather was America and my father was me seeking to marry my partner? The joy they share today would be nonexistent. The joy they share today would not exist. But my parents have come a long way since immigrating, when they did piecework and washed dishes to make ends meet and used a cardboard box as a dinner table in a one bed-room apartment. They have built a home and raised a family who mean the world to them. Without marriage equality my community may never experience the joy that my parents worked so hard to achieve—for them, and for us.
Indeed, it is a tough journey to marriage equality, but there is progress. Despite legal uncertainty, thousands of couples have gotten married. Organizations like API PFLAG continue to provide support. This month, a private bill introduced by Senator Feinstein and Representative Speier allowed an undocumented Pilipino woman to stay with her U.S-citizen partner in the States.[ix] With that, the Asian American community needs to work toward justice both incrementally and through social movements, as we are children of both struggles. Building coalitions to support bills like the Uniting American Families Act is crucial.[x]
Yes, there needs to be legal recognition of marriage equality, but more importantly, is the shift in the consciousness of our community that is in solidarity with the struggles of the LGBTQ community. We need to recognize that society is using the same powers that have historically divided us, to deny LGBTQ couples the right to love. In the words of Audre Lorde, “The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.”[xi] This allows our community to bring about mass cultural consciousness toward a more tolerant, just society. Indeed, it is already happening.
[i] This is a landmark legislation that struck down Plessy v. Ferguson, which ruled that racial segregation in public accommodations is constitutional. Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka. No. 347 U.S. 483. United States Supreme Court. 17 May 1954.
[ii] The Page Law was the first piece of U.S. legislation to exclude a group from immigrating. The purpose of the Act was to curtail the prominence of prostitution and was theoretically gender-neutral, but Chinese women were primarily affected. Lee, E. 2007. At America's Gates Chinese Immigration during the Exclusion Era, 1882-1943. New York: The University of North Carolina Press, 30-31.
[iii] Most of the early Chinese immigrants were able-bodied men. Because it was tougher for women to come overseas coupled with anti-miscegenation laws, many Chinese men could not have families. Lee, E. 2007. At America's Gates Chinese Immigration during the Exclusion Era, 1882-1943. New York: The University of North Carolina Press, 30-31, 117-119.
[iv] The Farmworker’s Website, “The Struggle in California,” http://www.farmworkers.org/strugcal.html
[v] Loving v. Virginia. No. 388 U.S. 1. United States Supreme Court. 1967.
Yang, B. 2006. Seeing Loving in Gay Marriages: Parallels of Asian American History and the Same-Sex Marriage
Debates Amerasia Journal 32 (1): 35.
Herring, G. 1998. The Beguiled: Misogynist myth or feminist fable? Literature Film Quarterly 26 (3): 214-219.
[vi] hooks, b. 1994. Outlaw Culture: Resisting Representations. New York: Routledge, 244.
[vii] On April 24, 2009, two 11-year-old boys of color, Carl Walker-Hoover and Jakeem Herrera hanged themselves because of homophobic bullying at school. Blow, Charles M. “Two Little Boys.” New York Times, April 24, 2009, http://blow.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/04/24/two-little-boys/
[viii] Asian Pacific American Legal Center, Unprecedented Coalition of Over 60 Asian American Organizations File
Legal Brief Supporting Equal Marriage Rights in California (Press release, Los Angeles, CA. 26 Sept. 2007).
[ix] Asian Pacific American Legal Center, APALC Applauds Senator Feinstein's Assistance on behalf of Asian
American Same-Sex Couple (Press release, Los Angeles, California. 24 Apr. 2009).
[x] If passed, this bill will allow U.S. citizens to sponsor their same-sex partners from other countries. Uniting American Families Act, H.R. 1024, 111th Cong.
[xi] Lorde, A. 2007. The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House. In Sister Outsider Essays and Speeches (Crossing Press Feminist Series), New York: Crossing Press.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
API Pride Council March at the Chinese New Year Parade, Chinatown 01/31/2009
I began marching in the Chinese New Year Parade, Chinatown with the Queer contingent (consisting of API P-FLAG, API Pride Council, API Equality, Asian Queer Women Activists) since my junior year of high school. I was president of the Gay Straight Alliance then and I took some members with me. I recall it being a monumental event then, because it had been the first time we were allowed to march. This time, it was the largest turn-out yet. We had nearly 200 marchers and I think the tension caused by Chinese American churches opposing gay marriage and the fight over Proposition 8 really had an impact.
It was nice to see familiar faces, especially after my half-year journey across China. The support within this community is also amazing. A noticeable difference this time, despite the numbers, was that there were visible API same-sex couples with us. They were either together or with their children. This visibility is truly a wonderful political act, especially for a community often overlooked--which brings me to the an event that irked me during this parade.
Openly gay Chinese American filmmaker, Arthur Dong had been scheduled to lead our contingent on a convertible with his husband (they've been together for 30 years) and son, Reed. However, parade administrators canceled that on the last minute, saying it was "too political". We were also not allowed to have signs. I originally had a sign that read "All Equal Under Heaven" but that had to be removed. I thought, well, isn't us being here a political act? Isn't this very parade a political act?
Nonetheless, it was a very affirming experience. At times I forgot that this was not the Gay Pride parade. We were screaming and shouting just as if it were and the previous unpleasant encounter reminded me of why we have to. In the beginning I thought, "Well, these old ladies in the crowd who look like my mother and my grandmother are only smiling, clapping, and waving at us because they don't really know who we are--our signs weren't obvious enough," but after I heard the lady announcer say, "tongxinglian" I was a bit reassured. This entire parade gave me hope that perhaps one day, the Queer community and the Chinese American community, what I consider the toughest ceiling to crack in terms of meeting my Queer identity, will shake hands and smile. It gave me hope that maybe one day I can come out to my parents and they can join these old ladies, cheering and waving for us. Until then, I will try my best to be at this parade because I am not alone.
It was nice to see familiar faces, especially after my half-year journey across China. The support within this community is also amazing. A noticeable difference this time, despite the numbers, was that there were visible API same-sex couples with us. They were either together or with their children. This visibility is truly a wonderful political act, especially for a community often overlooked--which brings me to the an event that irked me during this parade.
Openly gay Chinese American filmmaker, Arthur Dong had been scheduled to lead our contingent on a convertible with his husband (they've been together for 30 years) and son, Reed. However, parade administrators canceled that on the last minute, saying it was "too political". We were also not allowed to have signs. I originally had a sign that read "All Equal Under Heaven" but that had to be removed. I thought, well, isn't us being here a political act? Isn't this very parade a political act?
Nonetheless, it was a very affirming experience. At times I forgot that this was not the Gay Pride parade. We were screaming and shouting just as if it were and the previous unpleasant encounter reminded me of why we have to. In the beginning I thought, "Well, these old ladies in the crowd who look like my mother and my grandmother are only smiling, clapping, and waving at us because they don't really know who we are--our signs weren't obvious enough," but after I heard the lady announcer say, "tongxinglian" I was a bit reassured. This entire parade gave me hope that perhaps one day, the Queer community and the Chinese American community, what I consider the toughest ceiling to crack in terms of meeting my Queer identity, will shake hands and smile. It gave me hope that maybe one day I can come out to my parents and they can join these old ladies, cheering and waving for us. Until then, I will try my best to be at this parade because I am not alone.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Today, I am a MAN. Where There is Injustice, There Will Always Be Resistance.
About two weeks ago I spoke to my father on the phone. We had a wonderful first few minutes. He asked me how I was doing and what I have done so far. I told him that I had gone to see Tienanmen Square, the Olympic Green, the Summer Palace, Hutongs. He sounded very proud of me and said that I have done and seen so much more than "your old man"--that even as a Chinese man, he has not seen the capital of his own country--that I am more of a man than he is. He then asked if I am going to see the Great Wall and I said in a couple of weeks I will. He told me that there is a Chinese proverb, "Bu Dao Chang Cheng Fei Hao Han" which means that until you have reached the Great Wall, you are not a real man. Mao Zedong wrote this in 1935 in one of his poems. I can see how this saying came to be--firstly the Great Wall, stretching over 4,000 miles, costing millions of lives, completing in 10 centuries, is a magnificent, Chinese-specific feat. Secondly, it is also very "long", which can be symbolic of long life but also of phalli.
Well, yesterday I visited the Great Wall on my way back from a rural stay. On the bus ride there, I took the mic and announced, "Today, I am a man" just as I arrived. Everyone on the bus had a good laugh. The Great Wall was truthfully nothing short of spectacular, though I cannot say that I am particularly happy with the manicured walls, the myriad of Chinese/English graffiti, nor the persistent English-speaking merchants. We took a cable car up, walked about for a couple of hours, then slid a Tabagon down. When I arrived back at the entrance I bought a t-shirt for 15 kuai that read, "Bu Dao Chang Cheng Fei Hao Han."
Right before we left to see the Great Wall, we were invited to attend the wedding ceremony at the countryside. The bride came from a village far away and this was something difficult for her family because they will have little opportunity to see her. This was not a traditional Chinese wedding, however. The bride wore white, speakers pumped Mendelssohn's Wedding March, and the bride and groom exchanged vows and rings. But in many ways, this ceremony was very Chinese in that it was much less "serious"--children threw silly string and confetti at the bride and groom as they walked down the short aisle at the groom's house, both poured tea for their fathers, and the bride wore red during the lunch that followed. I thought that if I were to have a heterosexual marriage, it would be something like this.
The concept of marriage and love has been on my mind lately. During my conversation with my father, he also very forwardly asked, "So, have you found a girlfriend yet?" and when I said no, he quickly and almost demanding asked, "Well, why not?" I wasn't sure what to say so I first told him that I felt that Chinese girls were way too shy compared to American girls. He said that that was the truth and that was the way it should be. He said that though it will ultimately be up to me, it is his view that Chinese girls are better. Then I thought, well, what are the problems between me and finding suitable Chinese men? I told him that communication was an issue because my Chinese is poor and "her" English is poor. He felt that that wasn't a problem as long as we both teach each other and even when I return to the States we can keep in contact through the internet.
A week ago I was pretty upset because I received an e-mail that said a poll showed that No on Prop 8 was losing. But what makes me even more upset is that marriage in the U.S. is ruled by the State--that even when I am married in California, other States are not obligated to recognize my marriage and more importantly, because immigration is federally regulated, it chooses not to recognize international marriages between non-heterosexuals. In short, while heterosexual couples marry across borders (indeed, it is now the primary way of achieving legal immigration status), gay couples cannot. Granted, due to language and cultural barriers, I doubt that I am going to find my husband in China, but I would like to have the option to.
When I was in high school my father told me that his marriage with my mother was not meant to be. My mother and father met when they were about my age in their hometown of Kaiping, Guangdong province. However, my grandfather did not approve of my father and forced him to sign a contract agreeing that he will never come near my mother again. Soon after, my mother left for America with her entire family and my father, since this relationship was not meant to be, had already forgotten about my mother. My mother, however, in her new home in Sacramento, California, could not forget about my father. A family friend noticed that my mother was upset and she asked her if she had a boyfriend. My mother said, "Even if I did, why does it matter?" It was this family friend who convinced my grandfather to allow the marriage. After one year, my mother flew back to China and married my father... and the rest is history. But what if the contract my father signed stood? What if my grandfather was America and my father was me seeking to marry a Chinese man? Where would I be? Where would we all be?
For my Directed Independent Research Project, I am creating a short film documenting how the MSM (men who sleep with men) community in Beijing are impacted by HIV/AIDS and by what means sexual health information is disseminated and retrieved. Last night I went to the lake at Tsinghua University to do some research. The Lake is a cruising ground for MSM and before China, I had never seen anything like it. The first time I went, I brought my Chinese-speaking friend so it wasn't as frightening then. Some pretty interesting things happened that night, but more notably we met three gay guys who were about our age. They wouldn't tell us their names, nor what they did, but they said that although people come to this Lake primarily looking for sex, they come because it is a place where they can hang out and be themselves because in the day time they cannot.
I decided to go alone last night. When I arrived, I wondered around with my friend on the other line of my cell phone because I wasn't yet brave enough to try and "adapt" to this environment. It was dark and the sound of feet shuffling came in different directions. There were men slowly walking around, some hiding behind the trees and bushes on the high level platforms of the area. I felt their eyes on me and I was afraid because I did not know what to expect if I started conversations with anyone there--so I didn't. I just sat there and within five or ten minutes, a man approached me and we started a Chinese-English, broken conversation when he found out I was from the outside.
He was a fourth year engineering student at Tsinghua University. He would not tell me his full name because he is afraid that people, like his peers, would find out. He is from the countryside and has a brother. He had just come back from jumping rope. He likes ping pong and badminton. He found out about this cruising ground from a friend just recently. He said that he always has safe sex and that he knows about STD's and pulled out a condom to show me what he was talking about. He said he gets most of his sexual health information from the Internet and that there is a place close to campus where people get tested. Most MSM get this knowledge from the internet. He has been both a 1 (top) and a 0 (bottom) and enjoys both. It was just last year when he started experimenting with men. He has never done anything with a woman so he might be gay but he may marry a woman and have kids in the future. He has gay friends whom he met through "QQ" messenger. He took me to an area a little distance away where we were pretty much surrounded 360 by rose bushes. He said, "Look! There are papers everywhere." I took my cell phone out to light up the ground and there were tissues and condom wrappers littered all about. While he walked me back to the West Gate, I asked about potential consequences of coming to a place like this and he said that it's generally safe but you may get bad people who try to steal your money.
Next week I plan to go to Destination, Beijing's most famous gay club. It will be fun to see how the people there are like. It angers me that international recognition of love is gendered, yet when there is injustice, there will always be resistance. As long as people keep fucking in the Lake at Tsinghua University, as long as they keep dancing the night away at Destination, as long as they express their love toward who they are meant to love, as long as they resist, then there is hope for a more sexually inclusive world. "Hao Han" means "true man" but it also means "hero" and in terms of becoming a "hao han," I believe it takes more than taking a cable car up the Great Wall, taking a cart down, and buying a t-shirt from English-speaking merchants. I very much believe that to be a hero you recognize the sacrifices made by the counterparts of our past, like those who died building the Great Wall, and continue to strive for a goal that may seem impossible to achieve, like ungendered, unbias recognition of love, but is actually very possible, like the completion of the Great Wall.
Well, yesterday I visited the Great Wall on my way back from a rural stay. On the bus ride there, I took the mic and announced, "Today, I am a man" just as I arrived. Everyone on the bus had a good laugh. The Great Wall was truthfully nothing short of spectacular, though I cannot say that I am particularly happy with the manicured walls, the myriad of Chinese/English graffiti, nor the persistent English-speaking merchants. We took a cable car up, walked about for a couple of hours, then slid a Tabagon down. When I arrived back at the entrance I bought a t-shirt for 15 kuai that read, "Bu Dao Chang Cheng Fei Hao Han."
Right before we left to see the Great Wall, we were invited to attend the wedding ceremony at the countryside. The bride came from a village far away and this was something difficult for her family because they will have little opportunity to see her. This was not a traditional Chinese wedding, however. The bride wore white, speakers pumped Mendelssohn's Wedding March, and the bride and groom exchanged vows and rings. But in many ways, this ceremony was very Chinese in that it was much less "serious"--children threw silly string and confetti at the bride and groom as they walked down the short aisle at the groom's house, both poured tea for their fathers, and the bride wore red during the lunch that followed. I thought that if I were to have a heterosexual marriage, it would be something like this.
The concept of marriage and love has been on my mind lately. During my conversation with my father, he also very forwardly asked, "So, have you found a girlfriend yet?" and when I said no, he quickly and almost demanding asked, "Well, why not?" I wasn't sure what to say so I first told him that I felt that Chinese girls were way too shy compared to American girls. He said that that was the truth and that was the way it should be. He said that though it will ultimately be up to me, it is his view that Chinese girls are better. Then I thought, well, what are the problems between me and finding suitable Chinese men? I told him that communication was an issue because my Chinese is poor and "her" English is poor. He felt that that wasn't a problem as long as we both teach each other and even when I return to the States we can keep in contact through the internet.
A week ago I was pretty upset because I received an e-mail that said a poll showed that No on Prop 8 was losing. But what makes me even more upset is that marriage in the U.S. is ruled by the State--that even when I am married in California, other States are not obligated to recognize my marriage and more importantly, because immigration is federally regulated, it chooses not to recognize international marriages between non-heterosexuals. In short, while heterosexual couples marry across borders (indeed, it is now the primary way of achieving legal immigration status), gay couples cannot. Granted, due to language and cultural barriers, I doubt that I am going to find my husband in China, but I would like to have the option to.
When I was in high school my father told me that his marriage with my mother was not meant to be. My mother and father met when they were about my age in their hometown of Kaiping, Guangdong province. However, my grandfather did not approve of my father and forced him to sign a contract agreeing that he will never come near my mother again. Soon after, my mother left for America with her entire family and my father, since this relationship was not meant to be, had already forgotten about my mother. My mother, however, in her new home in Sacramento, California, could not forget about my father. A family friend noticed that my mother was upset and she asked her if she had a boyfriend. My mother said, "Even if I did, why does it matter?" It was this family friend who convinced my grandfather to allow the marriage. After one year, my mother flew back to China and married my father... and the rest is history. But what if the contract my father signed stood? What if my grandfather was America and my father was me seeking to marry a Chinese man? Where would I be? Where would we all be?
For my Directed Independent Research Project, I am creating a short film documenting how the MSM (men who sleep with men) community in Beijing are impacted by HIV/AIDS and by what means sexual health information is disseminated and retrieved. Last night I went to the lake at Tsinghua University to do some research. The Lake is a cruising ground for MSM and before China, I had never seen anything like it. The first time I went, I brought my Chinese-speaking friend so it wasn't as frightening then. Some pretty interesting things happened that night, but more notably we met three gay guys who were about our age. They wouldn't tell us their names, nor what they did, but they said that although people come to this Lake primarily looking for sex, they come because it is a place where they can hang out and be themselves because in the day time they cannot.
I decided to go alone last night. When I arrived, I wondered around with my friend on the other line of my cell phone because I wasn't yet brave enough to try and "adapt" to this environment. It was dark and the sound of feet shuffling came in different directions. There were men slowly walking around, some hiding behind the trees and bushes on the high level platforms of the area. I felt their eyes on me and I was afraid because I did not know what to expect if I started conversations with anyone there--so I didn't. I just sat there and within five or ten minutes, a man approached me and we started a Chinese-English, broken conversation when he found out I was from the outside.
He was a fourth year engineering student at Tsinghua University. He would not tell me his full name because he is afraid that people, like his peers, would find out. He is from the countryside and has a brother. He had just come back from jumping rope. He likes ping pong and badminton. He found out about this cruising ground from a friend just recently. He said that he always has safe sex and that he knows about STD's and pulled out a condom to show me what he was talking about. He said he gets most of his sexual health information from the Internet and that there is a place close to campus where people get tested. Most MSM get this knowledge from the internet. He has been both a 1 (top) and a 0 (bottom) and enjoys both. It was just last year when he started experimenting with men. He has never done anything with a woman so he might be gay but he may marry a woman and have kids in the future. He has gay friends whom he met through "QQ" messenger. He took me to an area a little distance away where we were pretty much surrounded 360 by rose bushes. He said, "Look! There are papers everywhere." I took my cell phone out to light up the ground and there were tissues and condom wrappers littered all about. While he walked me back to the West Gate, I asked about potential consequences of coming to a place like this and he said that it's generally safe but you may get bad people who try to steal your money.
Next week I plan to go to Destination, Beijing's most famous gay club. It will be fun to see how the people there are like. It angers me that international recognition of love is gendered, yet when there is injustice, there will always be resistance. As long as people keep fucking in the Lake at Tsinghua University, as long as they keep dancing the night away at Destination, as long as they express their love toward who they are meant to love, as long as they resist, then there is hope for a more sexually inclusive world. "Hao Han" means "true man" but it also means "hero" and in terms of becoming a "hao han," I believe it takes more than taking a cable car up the Great Wall, taking a cart down, and buying a t-shirt from English-speaking merchants. I very much believe that to be a hero you recognize the sacrifices made by the counterparts of our past, like those who died building the Great Wall, and continue to strive for a goal that may seem impossible to achieve, like ungendered, unbias recognition of love, but is actually very possible, like the completion of the Great Wall.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Fieldbook Assignment #2
A Photo Essay of Peking University
(Click on photo for larger view)
Peking University, founded in 1898, is the oldest institution of higher learning in China. The university has kept its original English name of “Peking” as not to confuse it with the numerous other universities with the word, “Beijing” in it. I decided to take photographs of the older architecture on campus not only because it is the most beautiful architecture on campus (and arguably the most beautiful architecture of all Chinese universities), but also because it symbolizes that the role of PKU as an institution for progress has not changed with time.
In 1904 PKU sent 47 students to study abroad for the first time. Since then, PKU’s role in China has been a place for the “old to meet the new” and for new ideas to be exchanged. Peking University was the birthplaces of such progressive events such as the 1919 May 4th movement, which set the stage for the questioning of traditional Chinese institutions and values such as Confucianism and the Tienanmen Square Protest of 1989 which demanded for a more democratic society. This photograph of figures in Taiji positions represents the merging of new ideas with the old because even in this modern time, Taiji is a big part of PKU student life. It also has a “come-hither” gesture, representing PKU’s receptiveness to new ideas.
This pagoda, which is often considered the symbol for PKU, was once used as a water tower. It is now an ornament that lights up at night. It sits looming like a monolith over the weiming lake on the center of campus.
Though PKU is the academic center for progress, some things remain unchanged, such as the distinct administrative hierarchy. This photograph was taken in the administrative area of campus by the Chancellor’s office. This stone pillar, with carvings of dragons, symbolizes elitism.
PKU, also one of the most prestigious universities in China and the world, is distinguished for its famous alumni and associates. Mao Zedong, at age 20, worked at PKU as an assistant to the librarian. While on campus, he wrote about Marxism in newspapers and magazines, questioning teacher’s authorities. This photograph is of West Gate and contains the sign of the university’s name written by Chairman Mao.
(Click on photo for larger view)Peking University, founded in 1898, is the oldest institution of higher learning in China. The university has kept its original English name of “Peking” as not to confuse it with the numerous other universities with the word, “Beijing” in it. I decided to take photographs of the older architecture on campus not only because it is the most beautiful architecture on campus (and arguably the most beautiful architecture of all Chinese universities), but also because it symbolizes that the role of PKU as an institution for progress has not changed with time.
In 1904 PKU sent 47 students to study abroad for the first time. Since then, PKU’s role in China has been a place for the “old to meet the new” and for new ideas to be exchanged. Peking University was the birthplaces of such progressive events such as the 1919 May 4th movement, which set the stage for the questioning of traditional Chinese institutions and values such as Confucianism and the Tienanmen Square Protest of 1989 which demanded for a more democratic society. This photograph of figures in Taiji positions represents the merging of new ideas with the old because even in this modern time, Taiji is a big part of PKU student life. It also has a “come-hither” gesture, representing PKU’s receptiveness to new ideas.
This pagoda, which is often considered the symbol for PKU, was once used as a water tower. It is now an ornament that lights up at night. It sits looming like a monolith over the weiming lake on the center of campus.
Though PKU is the academic center for progress, some things remain unchanged, such as the distinct administrative hierarchy. This photograph was taken in the administrative area of campus by the Chancellor’s office. This stone pillar, with carvings of dragons, symbolizes elitism.
PKU, also one of the most prestigious universities in China and the world, is distinguished for its famous alumni and associates. Mao Zedong, at age 20, worked at PKU as an assistant to the librarian. While on campus, he wrote about Marxism in newspapers and magazines, questioning teacher’s authorities. This photograph is of West Gate and contains the sign of the university’s name written by Chairman Mao.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
A Fieldbook Assignment
Dear Friend,
Before arriving in Beijing, I traveled to Guangdong with my mother for about a week. I primarily stayed within Kaiping, where both my parents are from and visited their ancestral villages. I met distant relatives that I do not remember meeting before and also visited my father’s businesses with the guide of my father’s friends/business partners. It was at the crux of my interactions with these two communities that left me feeling conflicted—with my distant cousin I ate cheap, delicious food from the street and strolled around Kaiping in a Chinese car while with my father’s friends, we ate at upscale restaurants and received massages. In short, I was not sure what it meant to be American nor what it meant to be Chinese. I know that being American gave me privilege—a privilege that I did not deserve and I knew that being Chinese gave me a secure box to fit into but a box I did not necessarily identify with either. These thoughts stayed with me as I started a new chapter as an international student at Beijing University—Beijing Da Xue.
Arriving in Beijing I suppose I’d have to say the first thing one would notice is the differences in driving habits of Beijingers versus Americans. The Chinese here do not necessarily obey lane lines and squeeze through tight corners a whole lot more often. The biggest differences for me, though, is that they do not yield for pedestrians and though to this day I still feel fluttered when a car honks at me to get out of the way, I suppose Guangdong, with its fewer people and thus fewer cars, has desensitized me to this. I have accepted it has part of the culture and it does make a whole lot of sense when I think of the larger scheme of things. The Chinese seem very flexible in their social relations and a whole lot more spontaneous. Even the government bargains—as with the fee for violating the One Child Policy. In the States, however, I feel that we are very strict about keeping to set rules and having a schedule. Therefore, it is not a surprise that we obey lane lines and yield for pedestrians. This one notion, of accepting behaviors that may appear strange as “culture” stayed with me throughout and my experiences on a scavenger hunt was an example of this.
After a few days of moving in and participating in orientation activities, I was paired up with Sarah Ting, a Shanghainese and Anglo-Saxon who goes to Swarthmore College. We took the subway closest to Beijing University to Tiananmen Square, where we explored the Square, the Forbidden City, and explored a close-by Hutong, or old-style alleyways with homes and shops before taking a taxi back on campus. I would have to say that I was not as overwhelmed as I expected. Though I was in Communist China and that Tiananmen was at the center of government power, there were also lots of Waiguo Ren (outsiders) touring the place along with Chinese. There were several signs with the Olympic slogan “One World One Dream” along with a large float celebrating the Paralympics, so as a semi-outsider, and as an American, I did not feel uncomfortable.
Before I digress, the Square is absolutely beautiful, despite the sea of tourist and street vendors. The architecture was just what I had expected—massive in size and bright in colors with a large scale portrait of Mao Zedong hanging like a monolith. Speaking of Mao, throughout my stay in China, Mao’s presence cannot be ignored—from the pictures printed on the Yuan to the portraits in shops and restaurants, Mao remains a strong symbol of nationalistic pride. Walking around and witnessing the sea of Chinese, the mix of the old with the new (Hutongs, street vendors and cars, high-rises), soldiers (both friendly and not), bottomless children (running around or taking a number-one with the guidance of their parent), I admit that I did feel proud for China. Before I left for China, I had dinner with my father where he had congratulated me because I am going to China, where his heart still remains, and of all places, Beijing, the Capitol that he himself have not visited.
Before leaving for China I had read that although China has the second largest economy in the world, it is also the third most unequal country according to the Gini Coefficient. In short, China has a very large divide between rich and poor. Just like visiting my extended family versus visiting my father’s friends, exploring the Tiananmen area, I easily stepped from a world of modernization and luxury to an older world that is not as dependent on new money and new technology. Having my lunch at the Hutong was an example of this. It is amazing and almost seems impossible, but amongst the high-rises, the cars, and the tourism of Tiananmen, Hutongs lay quietly throughout. Entering the Hutong was like entering a different world—the homes are small and quaint and the people are much simpler in dress and lifestyle. For example, middle-aged men played cards with one another while enjoying beers. Stray cats and dogs were found candidly everywhere.
Entering the small but busy restaurant where Sarah and I decided to have lunch, however, I realized that tourism doesn’t remain within the realm of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Just when I told the shufu that we could not read the Chinese menu, he quickly took it away and gave us an English menu with much more expensive prices. It was four kuai for one bowl of mi fan whereas the original was only one kuai. I asked the shufu if the Chinese menu was as expensive as the English one. He then offered us the original prices. Overall, though, it was a fun experience and the shufu and another restaurant worker were a jolly pair delightful to have broken conversations with. Sarah ordered a vegetable dish for ten kuai while I ordered a spicy pork dish for 16 kuai. Plus the two bowls of mi fan it came out to be 28 kuai total. Before we left, we even posed in a picture with the workers.
During my earlier stay in Guangdong, I had an argument with my mother. I told her about how frustrated I was that I did not understand the Chinese language and blamed her for not teaching me. I said that she still speaks to me like a child and therefore my vocabulary and syntax is like that of a child. I told her that in America, I do not feel quite American and in China I do not quite feel Chinese. She told me to be more happy—in China, I should be less stressed. Later, she told me that when I am in Beijing, I should also be more happy. I feel that the mentality she wants me to achieve is that of a tourist.
Truthfully, I am not a tourist nor do I want to be. I cannot just pick and choose the part of Chinese culture and society that I enjoy while leaving the rest of it behind because I am Chinese. However, because of my limitations due to growing up American, at times it is easier to separate myself from the crowd and stand behind that podium of American privilege. I am uncertain as to what to make of my experiences during the scavenger hunt but I can say is that I have a much more complicated view that most. In a sense I can see from the perspective of a Chinese, an American, a student and I am deeply looking forward to what is to come, whether it be more evidence of the class divide like Tiananmen and the Hutong or differences in cultures like car-driving and the people, or a multiplicity of traditions.
Before arriving in Beijing, I traveled to Guangdong with my mother for about a week. I primarily stayed within Kaiping, where both my parents are from and visited their ancestral villages. I met distant relatives that I do not remember meeting before and also visited my father’s businesses with the guide of my father’s friends/business partners. It was at the crux of my interactions with these two communities that left me feeling conflicted—with my distant cousin I ate cheap, delicious food from the street and strolled around Kaiping in a Chinese car while with my father’s friends, we ate at upscale restaurants and received massages. In short, I was not sure what it meant to be American nor what it meant to be Chinese. I know that being American gave me privilege—a privilege that I did not deserve and I knew that being Chinese gave me a secure box to fit into but a box I did not necessarily identify with either. These thoughts stayed with me as I started a new chapter as an international student at Beijing University—Beijing Da Xue.
Arriving in Beijing I suppose I’d have to say the first thing one would notice is the differences in driving habits of Beijingers versus Americans. The Chinese here do not necessarily obey lane lines and squeeze through tight corners a whole lot more often. The biggest differences for me, though, is that they do not yield for pedestrians and though to this day I still feel fluttered when a car honks at me to get out of the way, I suppose Guangdong, with its fewer people and thus fewer cars, has desensitized me to this. I have accepted it has part of the culture and it does make a whole lot of sense when I think of the larger scheme of things. The Chinese seem very flexible in their social relations and a whole lot more spontaneous. Even the government bargains—as with the fee for violating the One Child Policy. In the States, however, I feel that we are very strict about keeping to set rules and having a schedule. Therefore, it is not a surprise that we obey lane lines and yield for pedestrians. This one notion, of accepting behaviors that may appear strange as “culture” stayed with me throughout and my experiences on a scavenger hunt was an example of this.
After a few days of moving in and participating in orientation activities, I was paired up with Sarah Ting, a Shanghainese and Anglo-Saxon who goes to Swarthmore College. We took the subway closest to Beijing University to Tiananmen Square, where we explored the Square, the Forbidden City, and explored a close-by Hutong, or old-style alleyways with homes and shops before taking a taxi back on campus. I would have to say that I was not as overwhelmed as I expected. Though I was in Communist China and that Tiananmen was at the center of government power, there were also lots of Waiguo Ren (outsiders) touring the place along with Chinese. There were several signs with the Olympic slogan “One World One Dream” along with a large float celebrating the Paralympics, so as a semi-outsider, and as an American, I did not feel uncomfortable.
Before I digress, the Square is absolutely beautiful, despite the sea of tourist and street vendors. The architecture was just what I had expected—massive in size and bright in colors with a large scale portrait of Mao Zedong hanging like a monolith. Speaking of Mao, throughout my stay in China, Mao’s presence cannot be ignored—from the pictures printed on the Yuan to the portraits in shops and restaurants, Mao remains a strong symbol of nationalistic pride. Walking around and witnessing the sea of Chinese, the mix of the old with the new (Hutongs, street vendors and cars, high-rises), soldiers (both friendly and not), bottomless children (running around or taking a number-one with the guidance of their parent), I admit that I did feel proud for China. Before I left for China, I had dinner with my father where he had congratulated me because I am going to China, where his heart still remains, and of all places, Beijing, the Capitol that he himself have not visited.
Before leaving for China I had read that although China has the second largest economy in the world, it is also the third most unequal country according to the Gini Coefficient. In short, China has a very large divide between rich and poor. Just like visiting my extended family versus visiting my father’s friends, exploring the Tiananmen area, I easily stepped from a world of modernization and luxury to an older world that is not as dependent on new money and new technology. Having my lunch at the Hutong was an example of this. It is amazing and almost seems impossible, but amongst the high-rises, the cars, and the tourism of Tiananmen, Hutongs lay quietly throughout. Entering the Hutong was like entering a different world—the homes are small and quaint and the people are much simpler in dress and lifestyle. For example, middle-aged men played cards with one another while enjoying beers. Stray cats and dogs were found candidly everywhere.
Entering the small but busy restaurant where Sarah and I decided to have lunch, however, I realized that tourism doesn’t remain within the realm of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Just when I told the shufu that we could not read the Chinese menu, he quickly took it away and gave us an English menu with much more expensive prices. It was four kuai for one bowl of mi fan whereas the original was only one kuai. I asked the shufu if the Chinese menu was as expensive as the English one. He then offered us the original prices. Overall, though, it was a fun experience and the shufu and another restaurant worker were a jolly pair delightful to have broken conversations with. Sarah ordered a vegetable dish for ten kuai while I ordered a spicy pork dish for 16 kuai. Plus the two bowls of mi fan it came out to be 28 kuai total. Before we left, we even posed in a picture with the workers.
During my earlier stay in Guangdong, I had an argument with my mother. I told her about how frustrated I was that I did not understand the Chinese language and blamed her for not teaching me. I said that she still speaks to me like a child and therefore my vocabulary and syntax is like that of a child. I told her that in America, I do not feel quite American and in China I do not quite feel Chinese. She told me to be more happy—in China, I should be less stressed. Later, she told me that when I am in Beijing, I should also be more happy. I feel that the mentality she wants me to achieve is that of a tourist.
Truthfully, I am not a tourist nor do I want to be. I cannot just pick and choose the part of Chinese culture and society that I enjoy while leaving the rest of it behind because I am Chinese. However, because of my limitations due to growing up American, at times it is easier to separate myself from the crowd and stand behind that podium of American privilege. I am uncertain as to what to make of my experiences during the scavenger hunt but I can say is that I have a much more complicated view that most. In a sense I can see from the perspective of a Chinese, an American, a student and I am deeply looking forward to what is to come, whether it be more evidence of the class divide like Tiananmen and the Hutong or differences in cultures like car-driving and the people, or a multiplicity of traditions.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Gate 120
August 31st, 2008
LAX, Gate 120 to Hong Kong
A few days ago I Skyped with a friend who was hours away from leaving her house toward the airport, where she would leave the States to Andorra for a year to begin her journey as a Fulbright Scholar. Just last night I went to the going-away dinner of a high school friend who will in one week leave for one year in Scotland. Less than two weeks ago I returned to California from an entire summer interning in Washington D.C.
Now, I am waiting in front of Gate 120 at the Tom Bradley International Airport for my 14 hour flight to Hong Kong and Guangzhou, where I will stay until the 10th, when I will begin my Fall semester at Beijing University. Cantonese and Mandarin are spoken all around me and the people come in so many different shapes, sizes, and shades. Right now I am sitting next to two vulgar-tongued Toisan men who remind me of my maternal grandfather and his sons.
It’s so funny how people and places change so quickly and drastically. The people you once knew are not the same. So many people are leaving the country and exploring new horizons—it’s a wonderful thing. Taking a look back now, I can say that there have been a lot of changes in my life as well. It’s difficult to outline them all specifically and in great detail, but what I can point out is that there are things have stayed the same. I am still looking for new ways to improve myself and expand my horizons. I am still eager to remain politically active and socially conscious. I believe that this election year is one of the most important ones in my life and one that I have waited eight years to participate in. I need to get more informed of the propositions in California and it will be a wonderful day when Obama takes his seat at the Oval Office.
There is so much I hope to accomplish during my stay in China. I can hope to achieve all of these things but I know room for flexibility is a necessity. I hope to take in Hong Kong and see new things—since I am going with my mom I will see where that takes me and trust in her in making my time there worthwhile. I am curious to see how the culture and the fashion is there and hopefully leave being able to say—“Hong Kong is…” When I am in Guangzhou and Kaiping, I need to speak to all the folks I will meet there—family friends and relatives and take in everything they have to say. I cannot wait to see where my parents grew up and where my grandparents lived. I need to make sure that this is documented on film.
Being in Beijing will be a trip—not really knowing the language and not really knowing what to expect of the atmosphere there, but it seems like I have been preparing myself. This summer I hung out with a few friends who spoke primarily Mandarin. Just today, I met a few friends of a friend and we had tea together. I didn’t understand most of what they had to say but I could say that I enjoyed their company. Hopefully it will be the same with the Chinese in Beijing and they will be helpful in guiding my language improvement.
When I begin my semester I look forward to meeting new people and improving my Chinese. I think it will be a big challenge and I will try my best not to get sidetracked. I also look forward to improving my awareness of the politics of the world by reading and reeducating myself on gay and lesbian history. One of the biggest impediments to my social and physical advancement has been time-management. I’m usually a terrible time-manger because I don’t like to be hindered or tied-down by a schedule. Hopefully my semester in Beijing will allot me time for self-improvement. I will go to the gym more often and find a work-out buddy to go with. As I have been telling people, when I come back “you won’t recognize me”.
I am especially looking forward to my independent study, fieldwork and a documentary project on how HIV/AIDS affect gay men in Beijing. It is difficult to generalize about the “gay community” but it will be interesting to compare that community in China to the community in the States. It will be a real experience getting to know gay Beijingers and the struggles and accomplishments of their lives given Beijing’s socio-political climate.
I think that I will have a different view than most people going on the same program. I grew up in a suburban Chinatown so I can say that “China” has always been with me—in the stores I frequent and in the people I meet. But this “China” has always been an imagined China. I was four the last time I was there. It will be an experience to get to know China as it is and in that sense I hope better understand myself and my community as a whole.
Liang Jun Jie
LAX, Gate 120 to Hong Kong
A few days ago I Skyped with a friend who was hours away from leaving her house toward the airport, where she would leave the States to Andorra for a year to begin her journey as a Fulbright Scholar. Just last night I went to the going-away dinner of a high school friend who will in one week leave for one year in Scotland. Less than two weeks ago I returned to California from an entire summer interning in Washington D.C.
Now, I am waiting in front of Gate 120 at the Tom Bradley International Airport for my 14 hour flight to Hong Kong and Guangzhou, where I will stay until the 10th, when I will begin my Fall semester at Beijing University. Cantonese and Mandarin are spoken all around me and the people come in so many different shapes, sizes, and shades. Right now I am sitting next to two vulgar-tongued Toisan men who remind me of my maternal grandfather and his sons.
It’s so funny how people and places change so quickly and drastically. The people you once knew are not the same. So many people are leaving the country and exploring new horizons—it’s a wonderful thing. Taking a look back now, I can say that there have been a lot of changes in my life as well. It’s difficult to outline them all specifically and in great detail, but what I can point out is that there are things have stayed the same. I am still looking for new ways to improve myself and expand my horizons. I am still eager to remain politically active and socially conscious. I believe that this election year is one of the most important ones in my life and one that I have waited eight years to participate in. I need to get more informed of the propositions in California and it will be a wonderful day when Obama takes his seat at the Oval Office.
There is so much I hope to accomplish during my stay in China. I can hope to achieve all of these things but I know room for flexibility is a necessity. I hope to take in Hong Kong and see new things—since I am going with my mom I will see where that takes me and trust in her in making my time there worthwhile. I am curious to see how the culture and the fashion is there and hopefully leave being able to say—“Hong Kong is…” When I am in Guangzhou and Kaiping, I need to speak to all the folks I will meet there—family friends and relatives and take in everything they have to say. I cannot wait to see where my parents grew up and where my grandparents lived. I need to make sure that this is documented on film.
Being in Beijing will be a trip—not really knowing the language and not really knowing what to expect of the atmosphere there, but it seems like I have been preparing myself. This summer I hung out with a few friends who spoke primarily Mandarin. Just today, I met a few friends of a friend and we had tea together. I didn’t understand most of what they had to say but I could say that I enjoyed their company. Hopefully it will be the same with the Chinese in Beijing and they will be helpful in guiding my language improvement.
When I begin my semester I look forward to meeting new people and improving my Chinese. I think it will be a big challenge and I will try my best not to get sidetracked. I also look forward to improving my awareness of the politics of the world by reading and reeducating myself on gay and lesbian history. One of the biggest impediments to my social and physical advancement has been time-management. I’m usually a terrible time-manger because I don’t like to be hindered or tied-down by a schedule. Hopefully my semester in Beijing will allot me time for self-improvement. I will go to the gym more often and find a work-out buddy to go with. As I have been telling people, when I come back “you won’t recognize me”.
I am especially looking forward to my independent study, fieldwork and a documentary project on how HIV/AIDS affect gay men in Beijing. It is difficult to generalize about the “gay community” but it will be interesting to compare that community in China to the community in the States. It will be a real experience getting to know gay Beijingers and the struggles and accomplishments of their lives given Beijing’s socio-political climate.
I think that I will have a different view than most people going on the same program. I grew up in a suburban Chinatown so I can say that “China” has always been with me—in the stores I frequent and in the people I meet. But this “China” has always been an imagined China. I was four the last time I was there. It will be an experience to get to know China as it is and in that sense I hope better understand myself and my community as a whole.
Liang Jun Jie
Friday, August 8, 2008
hey bitchezz... i'm GAYand ASIAN
I have turned myself away from the Queer community on campus because I have found that this "community" in Claremont has met me with cold shoulders and though the Asian American community isn't perfect, it has been more embracing. Thus, I dove into Asian American Studies courses and organizations. After reminiscing through my older entries as well as my newer ones, I can't help but notice that as much as I may feel detached from my gay identity, it still is an integral part of my life that hasn't been silenced.
I knew I was gay since forever ago, but I suppose I knew "knew" during sixth grade when I decided to type up the word "gay" on a slow-ass dial-up Internet search engine and remembering that I liked what I saw but that I didn't exactly feel comfortable with it either. Then middle school came and up came the peer pressure and the desire to fit in and down the drain went any type of positive growth pertaining to my sexual identity. During those trying times, there were two things that saved me-- 1) God and 2) video games.
I wasn't Christian before I wanted to reject my sexual identity. In fact, I wasn't much of anything--just a regular kid growing up in a biethnic enclave who didn't have too much weight on his shoulders. I turned to Christianity not for what I would now call the "right" reasons but because I wanted so badly to be straight and normal in every sense of the word, which to me meant getting married, having kids and finding a lucrative career. Christianity made everything seem so easy and black and white--believe in Jesus Christ, repent for your sins and you will go to heaven. I found absolute comfort in absolutes--in the end everything will be OK because God loved me and had a plan for me. At first glance this may seem like a portrait of a kid in deep struggle but in truth, the countless prayers of "Dear Lord, please make me straight and I will never sin again" helped me because in the absence of teachers, friends, and role models to speak with, at least I had the Lord.
Another thing that kept me sane was video games. My grades were slipping--so what? At least when I turned on that PS 2 and entered the world of Tidus, I would be saving Zanarkand from the monster called Sin and everything was OK. I bought everything FFX--action figures, guides, clothing, posters. Playing video games kept me sane by allowing me to escape into another, more fantastic world.
Come high school, there were a variety of factors that saved me and it was no longer God nor Tidus and these included more supportive students and teachers but more notably, it was the gay Asian community I had met through a guy from the Internet. Now, I know what you're thinking--SKETCH, but in actuality, I owe much of what I have become to that community and
the Internet. I remember vividly I was at house in Santa Monica and the room was filled with college-aged and educated gay Asian men who were all socializing as well as getting ready to march the following day at the Los Angeles Pride parade as part of the Asian Pacific AIDS Intervention Team. This, by the way, was the summer right after freshman year of high school and I was 14. I wrote a false permission slip and had my mother sign it. I told her I was going to visit UCLA for a college day.
At that time, seeing people who I respected and who looked like me was important. I think that if I was in a room with drag Queens, for example, that it would have been a different story. These guys served as older brothers and as people I looked up to. When the Pride parade came the following day, I marched with APAIT, believed in the supportive faces in front of me as well as the new community I had found behind me, I never looked back. I have marched in a pride parade every year to serve as a reminder of my self-acceptance.
From scattered conversations both direct and indirect and from reading articles, it is without question that the gay Asian American community is one at risk. We deal with particularities that mainstream gay America may not have to deal with. When I made my first short film my senior year of high school where I "come out" to my parents through a documentary style narration, I initially made it for me. I wanted something that I could be proud of and something that spoke my truth. I was lucky enough to have met key folks through different organizations and it has screened in festivals nationally to diverse audiences of hundreds. I have not shown this film to my parents because it is not safe yet. Though I made it first and foremost for myself, I also made it for the gay Asian community because how often do you see a coming out story of APA youth in the mainstream? This absence of representation makes it an imperative that we represent ourselves and continue helping our community.
My motivation to help others in my community is propelled by how that community has helped me so it has never been a question whether or not I am an activist. Filmmaking is my weapon of choice because though it does not always deal with certain issues head-on as do counselors, media has a powerful effect as it reaches large audiences quickly and allows the viewer to interpret the work himself. I believe that we all deal with our problems differently and often individually and that positive new media (representation) can trigger the solution process.
For a while I have struggled with the gay Asian Internet community. I was so bitter because I was tired of always having to look for my people--straight people don't have to dig in the dirt for their folks. They can pick people off the street or at a restaurant and it will go unquestioned. Gays, on the other hand, have to jump through so many more hoops. Every time I logged onto Downelink and sent a message, I just felt that everything was superficial--every time I ran into someone who I saw from the Internet at a club, I wouldn't feel any real connection because we had not really spoken and BOY you look different from your pics. However, I have come to realize that because of our positions as gay Asian men we have to form our communities through alternative means for various reasons but one being that sometimes it just isn't safe nor practical. I have come to accept that the communities formed online, though there are impostors, is a very REAL community and that is it OK.
I had a conversation with my dad a few years ago where he basically outlined his expectations for me--and there weren't very many. He was very straight forward and told me the sooner I get married with a Chinese girl and have kids, the better. He said that the cycle of life runs the same for everybody--that the blood that runs through my veins is result of a legacy of marriages and it is our responsibility as humans to uphold that legacy. The thing is, I do want some of the things my father wants of me. I do one day want to find a partner and get married and have a kid or two. I do want to find a stable career.
Last week I had the opportunity to meet Arthur Dong, the gay Chinese American filmmaker who is actually getting married next week with his partner of over 30 years. They have a son, Reed. I met him before I realized he was Arthur's son. I saw this cute little boy wandering around and asked him where his "mommy" was because I was afraid he was lost. He said his "mommy is gone." I brought this up during my conversation with Arthur and I told him that there are so many things that children of same sex
couples have to deal with that children of straight couples don't. I expressed that I would like to have kids of my own but I want to make sure that they grow up in a supportive environment and at that point I started tearing up. Arthur gave me a very nice photograph of Reed that represents possibilities for me.
I'm not sure how clear I have been, but in my Gayasian community, things do go full circle. We need to be appreciative of those who help us and help those like ourselves. Representation and people like Arthur, who are unafraid to tell their own stories and live their lives with pride and conviction are crucial. We must create our own legacy of activism and support instead of follow the one expected from us.
I knew I was gay since forever ago, but I suppose I knew "knew" during sixth grade when I decided to type up the word "gay" on a slow-ass dial-up Internet search engine and remembering that I liked what I saw but that I didn't exactly feel comfortable with it either. Then middle school came and up came the peer pressure and the desire to fit in and down the drain went any type of positive growth pertaining to my sexual identity. During those trying times, there were two things that saved me-- 1) God and 2) video games.
I wasn't Christian before I wanted to reject my sexual identity. In fact, I wasn't much of anything--just a regular kid growing up in a biethnic enclave who didn't have too much weight on his shoulders. I turned to Christianity not for what I would now call the "right" reasons but because I wanted so badly to be straight and normal in every sense of the word, which to me meant getting married, having kids and finding a lucrative career. Christianity made everything seem so easy and black and white--believe in Jesus Christ, repent for your sins and you will go to heaven. I found absolute comfort in absolutes--in the end everything will be OK because God loved me and had a plan for me. At first glance this may seem like a portrait of a kid in deep struggle but in truth, the countless prayers of "Dear Lord, please make me straight and I will never sin again" helped me because in the absence of teachers, friends, and role models to speak with, at least I had the Lord.
Another thing that kept me sane was video games. My grades were slipping--so what? At least when I turned on that PS 2 and entered the world of Tidus, I would be saving Zanarkand from the monster called Sin and everything was OK. I bought everything FFX--action figures, guides, clothing, posters. Playing video games kept me sane by allowing me to escape into another, more fantastic world.
Come high school, there were a variety of factors that saved me and it was no longer God nor Tidus and these included more supportive students and teachers but more notably, it was the gay Asian community I had met through a guy from the Internet. Now, I know what you're thinking--SKETCH, but in actuality, I owe much of what I have become to that community and
the Internet. I remember vividly I was at house in Santa Monica and the room was filled with college-aged and educated gay Asian men who were all socializing as well as getting ready to march the following day at the Los Angeles Pride parade as part of the Asian Pacific AIDS Intervention Team. This, by the way, was the summer right after freshman year of high school and I was 14. I wrote a false permission slip and had my mother sign it. I told her I was going to visit UCLA for a college day.
At that time, seeing people who I respected and who looked like me was important. I think that if I was in a room with drag Queens, for example, that it would have been a different story. These guys served as older brothers and as people I looked up to. When the Pride parade came the following day, I marched with APAIT, believed in the supportive faces in front of me as well as the new community I had found behind me, I never looked back. I have marched in a pride parade every year to serve as a reminder of my self-acceptance.
From scattered conversations both direct and indirect and from reading articles, it is without question that the gay Asian American community is one at risk. We deal with particularities that mainstream gay America may not have to deal with. When I made my first short film my senior year of high school where I "come out" to my parents through a documentary style narration, I initially made it for me. I wanted something that I could be proud of and something that spoke my truth. I was lucky enough to have met key folks through different organizations and it has screened in festivals nationally to diverse audiences of hundreds. I have not shown this film to my parents because it is not safe yet. Though I made it first and foremost for myself, I also made it for the gay Asian community because how often do you see a coming out story of APA youth in the mainstream? This absence of representation makes it an imperative that we represent ourselves and continue helping our community.
My motivation to help others in my community is propelled by how that community has helped me so it has never been a question whether or not I am an activist. Filmmaking is my weapon of choice because though it does not always deal with certain issues head-on as do counselors, media has a powerful effect as it reaches large audiences quickly and allows the viewer to interpret the work himself. I believe that we all deal with our problems differently and often individually and that positive new media (representation) can trigger the solution process.
For a while I have struggled with the gay Asian Internet community. I was so bitter because I was tired of always having to look for my people--straight people don't have to dig in the dirt for their folks. They can pick people off the street or at a restaurant and it will go unquestioned. Gays, on the other hand, have to jump through so many more hoops. Every time I logged onto Downelink and sent a message, I just felt that everything was superficial--every time I ran into someone who I saw from the Internet at a club, I wouldn't feel any real connection because we had not really spoken and BOY you look different from your pics. However, I have come to realize that because of our positions as gay Asian men we have to form our communities through alternative means for various reasons but one being that sometimes it just isn't safe nor practical. I have come to accept that the communities formed online, though there are impostors, is a very REAL community and that is it OK.
I had a conversation with my dad a few years ago where he basically outlined his expectations for me--and there weren't very many. He was very straight forward and told me the sooner I get married with a Chinese girl and have kids, the better. He said that the cycle of life runs the same for everybody--that the blood that runs through my veins is result of a legacy of marriages and it is our responsibility as humans to uphold that legacy. The thing is, I do want some of the things my father wants of me. I do one day want to find a partner and get married and have a kid or two. I do want to find a stable career.
Last week I had the opportunity to meet Arthur Dong, the gay Chinese American filmmaker who is actually getting married next week with his partner of over 30 years. They have a son, Reed. I met him before I realized he was Arthur's son. I saw this cute little boy wandering around and asked him where his "mommy" was because I was afraid he was lost. He said his "mommy is gone." I brought this up during my conversation with Arthur and I told him that there are so many things that children of same sexcouples have to deal with that children of straight couples don't. I expressed that I would like to have kids of my own but I want to make sure that they grow up in a supportive environment and at that point I started tearing up. Arthur gave me a very nice photograph of Reed that represents possibilities for me.
I'm not sure how clear I have been, but in my Gayasian community, things do go full circle. We need to be appreciative of those who help us and help those like ourselves. Representation and people like Arthur, who are unafraid to tell their own stories and live their lives with pride and conviction are crucial. We must create our own legacy of activism and support instead of follow the one expected from us.
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