“I already gave my best, and I have no regrets.”
It was not too long ago that these ten words and the ensuing media propaganda immortalized American Idol success story William Hung. But for this pioneer Asian American pop star, glory and fame did not come without an ironic twist; in a society that prizes good looks, suaveness, and appeal, Hung’s spotlight focused instead on his lack of these attributes. Instead of attraction and envy, Hung’s performance spurred amusement, if not outright ridicule. And thousands of Asian Americans laughed alongside their mainstream counterparts, even this small step forward a sacrifice to the status quo.
Under the Shadow
Hung’s case is not unique within the Asian American male experience. In many ways, it embodies the struggle against the dominant culture’s emasculation of Asian males. The Asian American male has not been entirely denied his share of the limelight, but as with Hung, the attention has never been of a wholly favorable nature. Recent Oscar-winning producer Steven Okazaki comments that “whereas Asian women are presented as very powerful, sexual objects, Asian men have no sexuality.” The motion picture industry perpetuates distorted images of Asian males, usually relegating them to roles as either nerdy science losers or martial arts specialists. More objects of fascination than desire, prominent Asian male sex symbols are curiously rare in the media, athletics, and all across the American mainstream. Okazaki explains, “There’s a clear desire for Asian men to not be threatening…they can be attractive sometimes, they can know martial arts, but they still shouldn’t have a penis.”
And yet, in a society that boasts unprejudiced opportunity and acceptance, why is this emasculation occurring in the first place? Okazaki argues that it stems from a historical power struggle and fear of the Asian “other.” “They want to make us small and manageable,” he retorts, “so that we can fit in the box.” Asian immigrants have always been on the periphery of the public eye, safely pushed to the fringes where little is known and even less cared for. Eileen Chow, Assistant Professor of Chinese Literary and Cultural Studies, points out that even in the early 20th century, “anti-miscegenation laws were created to contain the yellow peril.” Moreover, popular icons in the early 1900s featured Fu Manchu, the prototypical Oriental villain, and Charlie Chan, the quirky and harmless gentle-spirit. Even then, as they are now, Asian American males were portrayed through extreme, sexless lenses. Fear of the unknown prevented America from ever acquiring a full understanding of the new immigrant waves, and as time passed, the dominant majority attributed labels to appease their uncomfortable uncertainty. As a result, in an increasingly sex-oriented society, where men are shaped and defined by their perceived masculinity, there has become “something threatening about allowing Asian males to be sexual.” The natural course of action has been for the dominant majority to deny Asian males their sexual capital, to once again safely marginalize them.
Phil Yu of angryasianman.com, a popular online blog that speaks out against Asian emasculation, offers an additional explanation that cultural differences may be a contributing factor in the Asian American male’s emasculation as well. Traditional definitions of masculinity in Asia directly conflict with modern perceived notions of masculinity in America. Cultural prerogative have restricted Asian males to be “more reserved, less aggressive, and less likely to call attention to oneself,” and the same influence is residual through at least a couple of generations of Asian immigrants in the US. “Japanese-Americans like to belong”, admits Okazaki, “[they like] to avoid being outsiders and remain insiders.” Thus, they face intense social pressure to conform and “feel really acquiesced” to the emasculation which surrounds them. Passivity, stoic silence, and non-dissenting conformity are hardly “attributes valued by traditional American alpha-male behavior.” Once taken into account, this alternate standard of masculinity may lead Asian males to be “perceived as less masculine than the average ‘American’ male.” Even if American labels of masculinity are stripped away, then, Asian men may still not be motivated to claim this unwanted image.
Regardless of cause, emasculation of Asian men is not simply an enduring injustice, but a self-perpetuating norm. A racism that has manifested itself into subtleties of everyday life, its silent predominance has only induced further blindness to the issue—on both ends. Okazaki laments, “What’s shocking to me is how many Asian males don’t see the racism around them.” Overbearing prevalence has been responded to with either surrender or apathy, a lackluster passiveness which has defaulted into acceptance. Ubiquitous conditioning has pushed Asian men to “learn to reflect that stereotype, learn to see themselves that way.” For future generations, their predecessors’ acceptance transforms what was once politely tolerated into a precedent taken for granted. Chow remarks, “Identity is a funny thing; it is defined somewhere between how you see yourself and how others see you. Asian Americans inherit a history of stereotypes that they must negotiate with their own sense of self—and sometimes, this self is defined through these stereotypes.” When Asian boys grow up exposed to belittling images and stereotypes of their own, they are no longer even aware of the difference between racism and truth. Expected to be dorky, sexually lame, short, hard-working, quiet, and a variety of other typified traits, they unconsciously self-fulfill this agenda because there are no other available examples to emulate. These illusions, spurred by passive acceptance, are increasingly becoming the reality that new Asian males are born into.
From the perspective of the larger society, inaction in the Asian community is seen as a silent nod of acquiescence. Whereas America has assimilated many aspects of Asian culture, such as fashion, cuisine, and entertainment, in many ways the ignorance towards Asian males has remained stagnant since the early 1900s, who remain misunderstood and misrepresented in the dominant culture. And yet, with no one refuting the norms, American society continues on without knowing otherwise.
Pebbles in the Pond
But not everyone is taking it lying down. Some have demonstrated their dissatisfaction with the status quo, and thus responded in their own ways to the racism around them. However, these fragmented responses have been predominantly misguided and miss the point.
One popular reaction against emasculation has been un-channeled uprisings of anger. In Okazaki’s documentary, American Sons, second-generation Asian American Mitchell, a product of his environment, fumes, “Racism made me the way I look, the way I walk, the way I talk.” He recalls how he has been pigeon-holed into the man he has become by society. Likewise, Yu cites that he has “noticed a backlash against Asian females and white men” by angry Asian men. Random acts of hatred, big or small, active or subliminal, have not helped to combat ignorance. Rather, this blind outrage against white authority has only further strained relations by creating more misunderstandings, and has ultimately lead to more unedifying stereotypes. Additionally, displacement of anger into an overcompensating machismo against Asian women has resulted in alienation and division within their own communities. Thus far, unconstructive anger is a venue that has only served to create new problems, not resolve existing ones.
Other Asian males retreat to the comfort of self-segregated communities where they can thrive and assert their individuality in a niche removed from domineering social pressures. These are found in cities as well as suburbs, campuses as well as workplaces, equally amongst the old and the young, male and female. Here, members define their identity as Asian-American, a hybrid of two cultures hyphenated by order of importance. What sets these ethnic communities apart is that in these niches, Asians can evolve their own definitions of masculinity through microscopic competition, a masculinity that is notably their own and not undermined by mainstream standards. It is, in a sense, a whole other parallel world, fully functional and comfortably safe. Nevertheless, Asians did not come to America to live in self-selecting exclusive ghettos; electing into such a compromise, they are forsaking their ability and right to participate in the community at large, forsaking both the benefits they might receive as well as those they could offer.
Another response, particularly by newer Asian generations, has been to distinguish themselves from other faces in the sea, due to their disgust with the media’s images of them and a dire fear of falling into that ever-dislikeable fold themselves. Others go even so far as to hate their own kind. Yu asserts that “a lot of people—men and women—reject their Asian identity to try to fit in.” Of particular notoriety is the dismissal of Asian men by Asian women on grounds of race alone, fueled by shame or retaliatory superiority over media’s emasculated projection of their own males, which in turn only instigates increased resentment and anger in the male population. Tragically, for rising generations of Asian Americans, their individual identity has become involuntarily homogenized; many are doing whatever they can to fight it, without even knowing what they are fighting for. Breaking free from the puzzle-piece phenomenon may or may not promise individual “liberation”, but ultimately does little to further racial equality.
The alternatives to passivity have thus far been unattractive and fragmented, their efficacy underwhelming and direction misguided. Many voices are speaking, but who are they speaking to, and whom are they speaking for? What is required is a unified response; a declaration of action instead of words, of progress and not retaliation.
Standing Up
There is a pressing need to adopt a more proactive, definitive resistance against the dominant trend. Okazaki passionately calls for nothing less than a collective outcry, but one clearly and consistently directed towards oppression whenever it shows its ugly face. “We haven’t been angry enough,” he fumes, “we should scream back and knock it back everytime.” In his opinion, Asian Americans have, for too long, acquiesced to racism. The time has come for them to stop tolerating it. Asian Americans quietly excelling in niche professions over the last hundred years have perhaps garnered respect, but not yet acceptance. Politeness has been tried and failed; a more direct approach is needed. Their actions, their words, their expressions—every venue of response must proclaim, “I don’t like that shit. Don’t put it on me.” Okazaki insists this is a daily struggle, and that change will only arrive if Asian Americans actively pursue that end.
Okazaki points to the civil rights movement, which seems alien to the Asian American experience. In his view, the success of black Americans can be attributed to two victories: in their actions and in their minds. The million-man march, prolific sit-ins, even the riots: all were manifestations of a united belief that injustice is best combated with widespread publicity. Similarly, Okazaki applauds the response of Asian communities to the Adam Carolla radio broadcast in January 2006 in which Carolla ridiculed the Asian Excellence Awards with slurs and open mockery. Communities around the nation transformed their insulted outrage into an inundation of protest letters—and they were heard. Okazaki believes the Asian community needs more of this. All Asian American who care about their place in American society need to “raise their voice, show their numbers.” Despite how Asian civil rights organizations have become increasingly docile and complacent, individuals still have power to “call others out” on these everyday injustices. That is how America responds: to protest, to action.
Similarly, Chow praises the Asian commu-nity’s response to the controversial Aber-crombie t-shirt incident of just a few years ago. Normally cynical of media protest because of its potential to become unbridled, Chow believes humor to be the most effective instrument in forcing reassessment of stereotypes from both sides, such as the recent movie, Harold and Kumar. However, she does believe this particular campaign against Abercrombie was remarkably successful. The success, however, was not defined by forcing a corporate apology and the termination of shirt production. It was, instead, about igniting open dialogue about issues of racism and tolerance among those who never would have thought twice; it was, at its most basic, about education.
Okazaki cites a second strength behind black America’s success to be their self-perception. “It’s the ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ attitude that has elevated black Americans above the persistent norm of subtle oppression. They didn’t listen to that shit popular culture tried to put on them then, and they aren’t listening now.” It’s a scrappy fight, one in which no ground can be surrendered. Okazaki recognizes this tenacity may clash with traditional Asian values, but in America, one must play by American rules to win. It is not only encouraged, but crucial to realize one’s own self worth and rebut those who deny it.
Likewise, Phil Yu shares a similar sentiment, calling first for change from within. Reconciliation is an active process, and the first step requires having peace with yourself, your own identity. “Asian American men just have to stop caring about what others think about them,” says Yu. “There has to be an elimination of this distinction between ‘American’ and ‘Asian.’ Hell, I’m American. It’s the other people who can’t see that.” Yu urges a mentality shift among Asian American males not to abandon their identity, but to convince themselves that the playing field is level; they must know themselves to be greater than they are told. Equality is first a state of mind, then a plan of action. Like Okazaki and Chow, Yu calls for “a progressive dialogue—not just amongst Asian American men, but dialogue across communities.” Whether the battle is fought individually or collectively on fragmented fronts, Asian Americans must stand united in their purpose.
Reconciliation is not only an attainable dream, but also an imperative endeavor. In order for it to succeed, both parties must be motivated to act. Waiting has proven ineffective, as hopes and dreams alone do not move mountains. Asian American males must stand up, both for themselves and one another, peacefully but actively resisting the silent racism of a white hegemony’s rule.
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