Issues of Identity by Other Japanese/Asian Americans

May 21, 2004

by Sekura81

Being of Cambodian/Chinese descent is hard sometimes. It's like being a minority within a minority. Cambodia what? It's a small country between Vietnam and Thailand, though obviously less well known. Back in the 1970s, there was a bloody communist driven war, millions died, and my parents who met in a refugee camp in Thailand, married and immigrated to CA in 1981, 3 months before I was born. Since I grew up in Long Beach, the stopping ground of all Cambodians, I grew for the first 8 years surrounded by those who looked like me, talked the same language, ate the same food. I was the majority! I spoke English, but that was something we did at school and Cambodian was what I mainly spoke. My childhood years were filled with delicious home food, aunts, uncles, and grandparents no more then a mile away. It was definitely a village that helped raised me. By age 8 we moved away for a better life away from everything that was familiar and I learned that I was different. Everyone around me was white and not very tolerant. Their cruelty to a lil 8 year old girl has never left me...but that's another story.

Growing up in that setting was the first time I wish I had blue eyes and blond hair. High school was my saving grace since I met other Asians and slowly learned their cultures and differences. My best friend who's korean was instrumental in making me feel "normal" since I was not the WASP Americana version that was being shown on tv, music, media, etc, etc, etc.

In college people would mistake me for Phillapino and this added to my bijillion and one reasons why I ended up with such sweet Flip friends. But I never felt comfortable with others who were also Cambodian in college. I felt so white washed, different from people that I was supposed to be connected to. The Cambodian club consisted of people who grew up in the same city/area that was sprinkled with those who grew up in different cities. I didn't stay long cause I felt so damn different.

My circle of Cambodian friends consists of my parent痴 friends' kids and I feel sad about that. I miss speaking my native tongue, the food, the same traditions, to learn more about my culture from people my own age instead of those older. I wish I knew of others my age, but I can't even reach out to my cousins (another LONG LONG story). It's not for lack of trying but I rarely meet other Cambodians bc we're such a small minority. I do supplement with the Viet people I live with since our cultures are so similar and occasional visits home but still, I see how my Asian friends interact with those of the same culture and I do long for that. I do miss learning things about my culture from others my age. On the plus side, I've learned a lot about different cultures and being at ease with everyone. I guess it's just hard because I know no one similar to myself, it makes me unique but at the same time lonely. I'm not saying that having someone of the same culture makes them automatically your best friend bc my best friend is as different from me as night and day but there's still a strong connection. I'm just wondering if there would be a different connection with those that are of the same culture, some shared knowledge that would make things a little easier to get to know. Sometime I just feel so different, a Cambodian girl raised in America who looks like she's Flip, that's a Buddhist, that loves anime, eats Korean, Viet, Thai, Japanese and Indin food like crazy, that loves all kinds of music, who loves to paint, draw, and read, but in a biology field that speaks 4 languages and wants to learn 3 more, and countless other things. Yeah, I'm unique alrighty. Oh hell, I don't know where I'm going. I'm writing aimlessly and I'm taking you along with me. Let's just end it on, I'm happy with being unique but wouldn't mind meeting new people.

Monday, December 22, 2003

Simply_Marie
Marie--actually it's Sarah Marie--was the 10,000th hit on my site. that would be 900 hits ago? Damn! Have that many of you been here since then? Anyway, from what her boyfriend told me, she was sitting in front of the computer, waiting to pounce like a cat on her mouse to be #10,000. Hahahahaa, isn't she precious? (No, I am not Gollum, although Musubi-chan tell's me I sound like himand am a rounder, more well-fed version of him.) Anyway, I wrote that I would put up a special entry for her, and here it is.

Um... lets see, she's a Bruin, like me, which is always a plus. Her mother's Japanese, which makes her a "haafu". Uh, er, and she often puts up a link on her page to her Diaryland.com blog site... BUT unfortunately, you need to sign-in and know that password. That being the case, I cannot comment on any of it, as I can't comment on stuff that my other readers cannot freely access for their own perusal. Hmmm... soooooooooo, instead I went looking through her Xanga, and found a post that was interesting. I will post it here and provide a running commentary. And Sarah, remember this is all in good fun. I can sometimes sound sarcastic so sit down when you read this:

Actually, the post is a little longer, but I don't think it necessary to get a taste of Marie, I mean Simply_Marie (there are two Maries)... no, I mean Sarah. Anyway, her attempts to address the Xanga phenomenon demonstrates an intellectual bent compared to most Xangans--although most of the people I read show the same characteristic. This is because of their relative age, I think. Many--Paiky, Sammy, Hama--are older than the average Xangan. I'm probably the oldest, but among this elite group, probably the stupidest.

Marie/Sarah/Simply also injects feelings into her posts, which is a good thing, I think. Some are real cool and cerebral (Sammy), or straight-forward (Paiky, the other Marie) or just insightfully funny (Sleetse, Hama). Some write about personal interests and as a result inject as much feeling as Sarah, like Taku. But the point is that we all come to Xanga for our own reasons and share portions of ourselves to others, be it good or bad.

Sarah--If I may may make one tiny comment: You post on Diary.com, and even leave a link to it on your Xanga site, but no one can read it unless you give them the sign-in and password. Now, how would this appear to others? Remember, "Perception is nine-tenth of reality." An original Onigiriman saying, hahahahha. Kinda stolen from another similar saying? Duh!

Anyway, for better or worse, this was my special entry for Simply_Marie. It is fun reading your entiries... when it's accessible...

Next: #11,111... Kinda scary, no?

Sunday, December 21, 2003

by Jpblkgrl

My dad died when I was in the fourth grade. After returning to school after missing several days for his funeral, a girl came up to me to say that her parents had seen my dad's funeral announcement in the newspaper. I was expecting condolences from her but nope she went on to mention the name of the funeral home where my dad's services were held. Finally, she said, "Thats where all the niggers have their funerals. Was your daddy a nigger?". She walked away giggling saying that she didn't want to play with niggers.

It was that day when I realized that: 1) It wasn't obvious to most people that I was part black and 2) Once they did know, they might treat me differently. This wasn't the first time that I had encountered bigotry but from that day on until adulthood, I became suspicious of anyone asking "What are you?" There weren't many hapas in the Florida towns where I grew up. My cousins who are japanese/white weren't burdened by the question...but they look caucasian. But that question was often the first thing people asked of me...even before my name. I knew anytime I met new people, someone would ask me. I grew to have contempt for anyone who would.

I'm not so harsh any longer. I realize some people have a genuine curiousity when they see me. And if someone is asking so they can categorize me for whateva reason....I just don't care. ASK AWAY!!! Anyway, I don't get asked very often anymore...most people seem to assume that I'm Hawaiian...lol

Friday, July 18, 2003

by Takunishi79

So I really should be working... but it's 1AM

Years ago, I wrote about the hyphen-syndrome (as I like to call it) where being "something"-American becomes a identity crisis for some people, as was for myself when I was in my late teens. I've been talking to a guy I work with, who is sort of in this midst... a second generation Korean American, but he dearly wants to be white. He prides himself in that he has no Asian friends... ... ... which, to me, is not exactly the right attitude.

I find nothing wrong with having Caucasian friends. I have no problems having African-American friends, or whatever the most "p.c." terminology is these days. But it's a completely different deal to deny yourself of who you are.

At one point in my life, I had difficulty understanding who I was, because I didn't fit some "mold" of being Japanese-American. For one, I'm a second-generation Japanese-American, while many are in their fourth or fifth generation this day in age. I realize I'm not alone, but most of the people who either came to this country or was born in this country under a family root in Corporate Japan... they are expected to return to Japan for college or, at least for the sake of working and whatnot. That's the "elitist" thing to do... apparently.

I didn't quite like those people, in the first place... I never could understand their mentality. They take on much of the poor qualities of the Japanese culture of the modern, post WWII era. And to be quite honest, it sickened me. Thus, I separated myself from the Japanese, all together.

On top of which, if and when I went to Japan, I wasn't exactly treated as I had quite liked... where it's matter of fact for me to "be" Japanese, but since I don't quite carry myself in the manner, I'm seen as an oddity. Especially among the generation just above my own.

In my late teenage years, I came to a cross-roads... in figuring whether I am American... whether I am Japanese... or to somehow fit into this Japanese-American mold. I chose to be Japanese-American, ultimately, in trying to maintain the culture and language of the Japanese that was in my blood... while remaining in this country to serve as an American.

I think it's extremely important to understand your identity, in your culture, in your background, in your ancestry... in your current self, in your possible future. It is part of what makes one as complete as possible as an individual. And leaves room for growth without stumbling... at least, not quite as hard as having to find your identity along the way. That, I gather, would be disasterous--especially for someone like myself.

So that's that.

Wednesday, July 16, 2003

by Korikai

I need to rant.  It's actually pretty closely related to that whole being Japanese/American problem that was being discussed before.

Today when work was done I ran to catch the metro, as usual.  The train had JUST arrived, so I ran down the escalator so that I could catch it.  Normal.  So I get downstairs, and this guy like, appears right behind me and like, smiles at me and starts trying to talk to me.

His first words, OF COURSE, were, "Are you from Japan?"

Did I ever mention how much I HATE that????  I guess it goes back to the fact that I was born and raised in Hawaii, where EVERYONE my age is either third or fourth or fifth generation, so it's just assumed that you're NOT from whatever country that is your ethnic background.

My how different things are here.  At first it was amusing.  During junior year though, when I was working at Tower Records and had to hear it EVERYDAY, I started getting really irritated by it.  I know, I know, I shouldn't be.  I mean, I AM in a place where the majority of Asian people really are from another country, or their parents are or something.  But still, WHY is it IMPOSSIBLE for some people to understand that I am American?  I swear, if I had a dime for every time I've had this conversation...

GUY:  You're from Japan, right?
ME: No.
GUY: So where are you from?
ME: Here.
GUY:  >Pause<... But you're Japanese, right?
ME: Yeah.
GUY: So you're from Japan.
ME: No.
GUY: Okaaay....but your parents are, right?
ME: No.

WHY is it so hard for some men to understand that I am American?  I hate that just because I am not white or black that I am automatically assumed to not be American.

And what is even more irritating is that these men seem to think that they should be rewarded for their ability to "tell Asians apart".  That I should be incredibly impressed that they could tell that I am Japanese, and that because they are so friggin' smart that I will be attracted to them.

And not to generalize, but the fact is that the majority of them are black men.  So, if I went up to them and said, "Are you from Africa?", this should be acceptable, right?  Somehow though, I doubt that most of them would be okay with that.  Also, the fact that they tend to be the most crass about it.  Like in freshman year, the guy behind me in the line at a club who pulled on my backless shirt string and called me a "China doll."  Or the guy sitting in the car when I was walking on the street one day (dressed in a sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers, I might add, so it wasn't like I was TRYING to draw attention to myself) who yelled out the window of his car, "Yes baby, I want to go to China!", or the guy yesterday who yelled out, "CAN-nichiwa" (yes, pronounced like that) as I walked past him on the street.  So, just out of curiosity, why is this such a trend?

Of course, I'm not saying that it's exclusively black men who are ignorant about the idea of being Japanese-American.  However, I have never felt offended by any of the non-black men who ask questions.  Perhaps it's because when they ask, they ASK.  They don't ASSUME, or say things that make me cringe.  And, of course, I'm also not saying that ALL of the black men who have ever made a comment about my race were rude.  There have been many really nice men who were just curious.

But, back to the guy from today.  So after I try to run away from him by jumping on the train, he follows me onto the car and starts talking to me.  Hello, I just quickly walked away from you, didn't answer you when you were talking to me, and didn't even LOOK at you.  Can't you take a hint??  So I'm start reading my "The Handbook of Japanese Adjectives and Adverbs" book and instead of taking a hint he goes, "So what is that?  Japanese, right?" and I kinda nod my head.  And then he victoriously says, "See, I told you you're from Japan!"  What the fuck?  1) YOU'RE telling ME where I'M from? and 2) If I was Japanese and from Japan, WHY would I be reading this book?  Dumbass.  Then he says, "So do you want to go to lunch sometime?" to which I replied, "I have a boyfriend."  He then goes, "Aw!  Okay, it was nice talking to you" and walks to the other end of the car.

I dunno, I try not to let it bother me, but sometimes I'm just amazed at how stupid people can be.  I personally never assume that anyone is from anywhere.  I know a lot of people, myself included, who do not look like the "stereotypical" idea of an American, and I also know a lot of people who many people have assumed to be American but were actually born and raised somewhere else.  I'm not saying that it makes me a great person, but I can't understand how, in such a multi-cultural country, that people can still make assumptions about others based on how they look.

Also, the fact that some men can think that an assumption about race and nationality is a good pick up line, ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY'RE COMPLETELY WRONG, is beyond me.  So if I had been white or black, what would that guy's opening line have been today?: "Are you from Ireland/Mozambique/etc?"  Give me a fuckin' break.

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