My new favorite Brown alum: Jon Moritsugu

Wow...what the fuck did I just watch? JJ Chinois is gonna have to wait, because “Terminal USA” was one of the most bizarre movies I have ever seen in my life. It seemed like a mix between a twisted Asian American Sitcom and a cheesy zombie movie with all of the fake blood. I would love to meet Jon Moritsugu’s family when he was younger or to read his family’s reaction to this film. Moritsugu is certainly one of Brunonia’s gems.

The characters of the film made it so interesting and twisted. Moritsugu did an excellent job of developing such strange and unique characters that viewer attempts to follow throughout the film. As I took notes during the film, I found myself creating profiles for all of the different characters in an attempt to follow everything that was happening. Underneath the characters, there was some very interesting social commentary. Using the classic nuclear family American sitcom for the film, it offered a scathing satire of model family structures and interactions. In that sense the film reminded me a lot of the popular film “American Beauty” (1999), which also critiqued the model nuclear family.

There were some interesting race relations in the film. In one of the first scenes the father comes home from work complaining about death threats towards him because of his race (“I am not a chink, I’m a Jap”), which can be read as response to the killing of Vincent Chin and animosity towards Asian Americans in the workplace. The two skin heads in the film are also racist towards Kazumi. This film came out following the Rodney King riots when Asian/Asian American race relations were tense. It wasn’t a coincidence that an Asian male in the film shot one the white skin heads out of self-defense.

It was comical to watch the father in “Terminal USA” struggle to “spend time with his kids” only to be increasingly shocked that none of his kids were meeting his expectations. Kazumi is a drugged out teenager (“a real blooming freak”), who lets himself bleed to death in film. Marvin is a sexually-suppressed homosexual (“the pervert in the backroom”), who spends all his time in front of his computer. And Holly, a sex crazed cheerleader, who runs off with a pedophilic lawyer/producer of childhood pornography. The characters were hard to wrap my head around. After consulting IMDb, apparently both Marvin and Kazumi were played by Moritsugu (perhaps, the characters he most identified with at Brown).

P.S. Did anyone notice that the character “Fag-Toast” was wearing a Catholic priest’s outfit? The father made lots of references to the Apocalypse and Judgment Day throughout as well...

P.P.S. Check out: http://jonmoritsugu.com/bio/

Searching for my Asian American pop star

First things first, I need to get this off my chest and admit my own up to my pop culture transgression: I’m not a big music person. I love to rock out to the radio when driving my car or dance it out at a frat party, but don’t ask me for a song recommendation or to be an iPod DJ at your party. I don’t really have a group of favorite artists or favorite songs; I belong to the minority of Brown students who don’t even own an iPod. This is the reason why I love Pandora; it does all of the music selection for me.

Pandora is where my search began. I started looking for a genre of Asian American artists. I found plenty of Latin; I found Jazz and R&B; I found Rock and Country, but nothing mildly relating to Asian music artists. I scoured the classical section for some Yo-Yo Ma. I tried looking for some sort of Asian folk music with a Mandolin, but I could find nothing. Stumped, my mind fell back onto the stereotypes of Asian Americans and music and the first thing that popped into my head was a Japanese businessman singing karaoke in Tokyo. I looked a little closer at the stereotype and realized that he was singing American music in chopped English. Where has all of the Asian music gone?

My next stop was a Google search for Asian American music artists and several sites, like AArisings.com, which had a comprehensive list of every Asian American music artist. It seemed like the site was created for people just like me, people who had recently lost faith in Asian American music. I thought I would peruse this list to find out of maybe I had been listening to Asian American music all along and just hadn’t realized it. After looking through a list of 200-300 artists, the artists I had hear of were CoCo Lee, Jin, Linkin’ Park, N.E.R.D., and Yo-Yo Ma.

With strengthening Asian economies, the market for Asian American music is available, but where are the artists to meet the demand? Do all Asian American pop stars have to be like William Hung, who was as much of a joke as an American idol? I guess my laid back attitude towards music never made me realize the dearth of Asian music. Maybe I should pay more attention to what music I’m listening to. Maybe Asian Americans need to create a genre of their own to distinguish their music, a genre that hasn’t already been dominated by another ethnic group. I’m crossing my fingers that the new Playstation/Xbox hit “Rock Band” (the newest manifestation of Dance Dance Revolution) will start the ball rolling for a new breed of Asian American music artists.

“Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven”

Wow...the “Sai-I-Gu” documentary hit me pretty hard. I hadn’t seen the footage from the riots in a while and it hit home particularly hard when hearing from the perspective of the Korean shopkeepers who had been looted. At the end of the documentary, one of the producers described the LA riots as a “crisis of the American dream,” which I thought was particularly fitting. Looting and rioting is such a powerful image of anarchy and social disillusionment. It’s shocking to think that the LA riots took place in the United States less than twenty years ago.

I was surprised that the documentary failed to cover the murder of Latasha Harlins, which was an important catalyst for the LA Riots and the resentment of the Black community towards Korean shopkeepers. On March 16, 1991 (a little over a year before the LA Riots), Harlins, a 15-year-old black girl, was shot in the head by a female Korean storeowner, Soon Ja Du. The storeowner mistook Harlins for shoplifting, a scuffle broke out between them, and Harlins was shot fleeing the store, which was all captured on the store’s security camera. Even more shocking was Du sentence for Harlins’ murder on November 15, 1991 (a couple of months before the riots): 5 years' probation, 400 hours of community service, and a $500 fine. Yes, this was Du’s sentence for murdering Latasha Harlins. While, several of the shopkeepers interviewed referred to the deep-seeded tension and resentment between Koreans and blacks that had always existed in LA, the Harlins murder cannot be overlooked.

The Latasha Harlins murder is also mentioned in 2Pac’s “Thugz Mansion,” a reference that until now went completely over my head:

Dear momma don't cry, your baby boy's doin good
Tell the homies I'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods

Little LaTasha sho' grown
Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven, so come home

I found myself wondering during the documentary about who was to blame for the LA riots and my thoughts kept returning to the media. Would the Rodney King beating have been so sensational if the footage had not been featured day and night on every mass media? The media also played a role in villanization of the Korean shopkeepers during the riots featuring images of shopkeepers guarding their stores from looters on the roof. In the opening scene, the producers of the film discuss the 3 images of Koreans circulating on the media during the riots: 1) the Harlins’ murder, 2) crying shopkeepers after being looted, and 3) armed Koreans on the roof. I struggle to see how such representation of Koreans during the riots did not further exacerbate the racial tensions leading to the riots in the first place.

More thoughts on Asian and Black relations: there were a lot of connections between the “Sai-I-Gu” documentary and Oliver Wang’s piece on Asian American rappers in Alien Encounters. In his essay Wang laments that “Asian Americans are expected to cast their allegiance with one of the two dominant American racial poles” and as a result Asian American rappers fail to succeed in a dominantly black medium facing the issues of authenticity and racialization of their hip hop. This racial tension can be seen playing out directly in the rap battles between Black artist Sterling and the Asian artist Jin.

Throughout the documentary, the Korean shopkeepers discussed the resentment they felt from their Black customers as being “whitewashed” and not fitting into the Black-White dichotomy that Wang mentions in his essay. The same sense of betrayal that Koreans felt towards the blacks in the documentary is felt by Asian American rappers, such as Jin, who struggle to be recognized in hip hop. I guess the bigger question is: where do these tensions come from and what purpose have they ever served?

More information about Latasha Harlins: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Latasha_Harlins

Masala: “Creating something new out of old ingredients?”

Lots of interesting things going on in Mira Nair’s “Mississippi Masala.” First of all, I had forgotten how long ago the 90’s really were: the haircuts, the fashion, the music, like whoa... The race relations between blacks and Indians in the film were complex. In both Uganda and Mississippi, Meena’s family faces tense relations with blacks. At the beginning of the film her family is forced to flee Uganda because of the rise of nationalism in the country being told that “Africa is Africans, black Africans.” The deep seeded animosities between blacks and Indians accompany Meena’s family to Mississippi where Meena and Demetrius’ interracial relationship explodes into a feud between their families. Despite the potential for solidarity and unity between the two groups as non-white people of color, the Indians in the film are still seen as foreigners and out-of-place by both the black and white communities in Mississippi.

Throughout the film I found myself thinking about the relationship between South Asians and Asian Americans. One of the things that struck me on our first day of Asian Am Pop Culture class is the absence of South Asians in our class, which got me thinking about whether South Asians embrace Asian American as part of their identity or if Asian American is a distinctly East and Southeast Asian identity. This question extends into our readings and movies as well, in which South Asians have been mostly absent. This invisibility of SA in curriculum is concerning, but it is also a reflection of their representation of South Asians in mainstream culture. The only popular SA actor that comes to mind is Kal Penn from “Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle.” The invisibility of South Asian identity in the United States was also present in the film. Even after he learns that Meena is Indian, Tyrone continues to believe that she is Demetrius’ “Mexican girlfriend.” One of the white character in the film complains to his friend that the “Indians” should be sent “back to the reservation,” confusing Meena’s family for American Indians. With the huge growth in the Indian/South Asian film industry (Bollywood), the invisibility of South Asians in our popular culture should change as Bollywood fosters a larger ethnic Indian cinema.

The one part of the movie that seemed ingenuine to me was the relationship between Meena and Demetrius. I just didn’t find their relationship believable. Maybe I have a narrow view/high expectations of romance in film, but I felt that there was a huge disconnect between the “love at first site” and the “we are going to leave Mississippi together” elope. I recognize that Nair was trying to do a lot with this relationship using it as the focal point for the tensions between the black and Indian communities, but considering how the brevity of their relationship AND the fact that Demetrius was just using Meena to get back at his ex-girlfriend Alicia. I guess I would have to side with her parents on this one: What was Meena thinking!?!?

Fighting Youth Norms

Monkey Dance and Better Luck Tomorrow both challenge the “normal” experience of the Asian American teenager. By adding other voices to Asian American experience, these films expand the way that their viewers think of Asian American teens, which is usually confined to grade-grubbing math and science nerds with poor fashion sense and absent social lives.

The SAT words throughout the movie add an entertaining commentary on the actions/mindsets of the teenagers. In one of the opening scenes of the film, Ben is memorizing the word punctilious: strict attention to norms of action or conduct. The movie challenges the norms of expression for Asian American teens. As a teenager who grew up in suburbia I connected to the experiences of the teens in BLT (Bacon Lettuce Tomato). In high school I also found it thrilling to beat the system and break the mold that I had been place into. I prided myself in high school on being that student who was a varsity athlete, a straight-A-student, an Eagle Scout, and still managed to drink and smoke pot every weekend. While I wasn’t quite a gun-toting gangster in high school or an organized crime lord, I was happy to “have my cake and eat it too.” I just couldn’t see why being smart and college-bound restricted me to such a rigid and boring social life. It don’t know if I resented my parents for placing such high expectations on me or if I was trying to rebel against their expectations, if anything I resented my other friends (both Asian Am and not) in my AP and Honors classes who felt like constrained by the expectations placed upon them and thought partying on the weekends would decrease their chances of getting into a good college.

For the most part my parents were completely oblivious of it all. The few times that they caught me, I would point to my good grades and they usually left me alone. By maintaining my good grades and college aspirations, I was able to create a niche to engage in reckless behavior without consequence. I know very well that buzz of the BLT teens got from their mischief that buzz is wonderful. Is their/our experience a common Asian American experience? I don’t really know. Based on the friends I knew growing up, I don’t think this is a common Asian American experience, but maybe my viewpoint is definitely affected by those same perceived social norms. The Asian American youth in Monkey Dance seemed much less resentful towards what was expected of them. Was this a product of them being recent immigrants or were the experiences of mine and the BLT teens a product of being a little bored growing up in suburbia? For me the take home point of these movies is not whether or not my experience or the experience of either groups of teens is considered a normal experience, but we challenge the concept of a “normal” experience for Asian American youth and provide other AA youth with an alternative life trajectory.

The métis (a.k.a. the hapas of the world)

Questions of authenticity, nationality, purity, and ethnicity seem to underlie all of the anecdotes in Cheuk Kwan’s “Chinese Restaurants.” The documentary offers a unique lens from which to analyze the Chinese/Asian Diaspora. Kwan’s documentary exposes its viewers to a diversity of flourishing Chinese communities around the world. The documentary reminds it’s viewers that it’s too easy to think of the United States as a unique cultural melting pot compared to the “homogeneity” of other countries. It was intriguing to compare the various nationalistic identities of the interviewees and their relationship to their Chinese identity. Kwan’s documentary reminded me a lot of Renee Tajima-Pena’s “Honk if you love Buddha.” Throughout the movie, Kwan uses his exploration of these diasporic Chinese communities to search for his own family’s history and the meaning of a globalized Chinese identity.

The most interesting case studies featured in Kwan’s documentary was the Chinese community in Cuba and Madagascar. These two communities are examples of opposite ends of the spectrum of reproduction of diasporic Chinese culture. The Chinatown of Havana, once the largest in the Americas during the early 20^th century, is now nothing but a ghost town with fewer than a few hundred authentic and “pure” Chinese. In the documentary Kwan frequently refers to the Chinatown of Cuba as a “artificial fantasia,” a government sponsored tourist trap which retains few of its ties to the Chinese. Bringing it back to the food, Kwan (the Chinese food connoisseur) also questions the authenticity and legitimacy of Cuban Chinese food, which he describes as very salty, deep fried, and soaked in soy sauce. The attitudes of the non-Chinese Cubanos in the film towards Chinese food also reinforce and maintain this view of Chinese as distinct, un-assimilated, and foreign.

On the opposite pole, a sustained and large Chinese influence has manifested itself in very different ways in Madagascar. With a history of immigration dating back before the Europeans, the Chinese have been embraced by Madagascar. Soupe Chinoise (similar to Wonton Soup) is even a staple dish of the coutnry. Described as one of the most multicultural societies in the world, the métis Chinese and their fusion food are an integrated part of Madagascar’s mixed race culture. Through both of these examples, Kwan questions the pure/authentic vs. assimilated dichotomy. As can be seen in an array of very different countries, Chinese (food) culture reproduces itself in many unique ways and is not simply a question of assimilation.

“This is a cross cultural event. Everything goes!”

Everybody wants to kiss the bride. Except the groom.

Based on a synopsis of the plot of “The Wedding Banquet,” this film seems pretty ridiculous. An interracial gay couple tries to hide their marriage from unsuspecting Asian parents by planning a faux marriage to an illegal Chinese immigrant. While it seems like this would be a recipe for a disaster, despite all of the deceit, in the end the expecting illegal Chinese immigrant and gay couple decide to raise the child amongst the three of them. Despite the twisted plot, I really enjoyed the film. Watching a group of radically different characters attempt to resolve a constantly detoriating dilemma.

I was intrigued by the treatment of Chinese tradition in the film. From one side you had Wai-Tung’s conflict between obeying the wishes of his parents and his relationship with Simon. On the other side you had the Americanization and modernization of Chinese traditions. Several scenes in the film showed this conflict. One scene was the comical transformation of Simon and Wai-Tung’s home before his parents come to visit. Their pictures and iconic gay artwork comes down and is replaced by Wai-Tung’s family photographs and scrolls of Chinese calligraphy. The life that Wai-Tung has chosen to live in America does not include Chinese tradition and for him it is only an occasional annoyance (filling a questionnaire for a dating service and a middle-of-the-night phone call from his parents).

The wedding banquet scene also provides some interesting commentary on Chinese tradition. Taking place in a hotel owned by one of Mr. Gao’s former soldiers (a link to old Chinese tradition), the banquet is attended by upper class Chinese/Taiwanese Americans who engage in lots of heavy drinking and marriage games. At the banquet, a shocked white party-goer comments: “God, I thought the Chinese were meek, quiet math whizzes.” The Chinese party-goer (who is actually Ang Lee) replies: “You are witnessing the results of 5,000 years of sexual repression.” At the banquet, the first and second generation party-goers attempt to Americanize Chinese tradition and engage in what Mark Chiang calls a “masquerade of tradition.”

In the end of the film, the tradition is reduced to nothing but a formality. Building layers of lies on top of each other, even though all of the family members know about Simon and Wai-Tung’s relationship, the Chinese tradition prevents it from being out in the open. When Simon asks Mr. Gao why the web of lies needs to continue, he doesn’t know either and replies at least it will produce him a grandchild. Wrestling with questions of assimilation and adaptation of traditions, “The Wedding Banquet” creates a space to analyze the evolving attitudes towards Chinese tradition of younger generations in America.

Bruce Lee is a Bad Ass

Covered in cuts and in the heat of battle, Bruce Lee brings his finger to his mouth and savors the taste of his own blood. I can see why this movie was empowering for the Asian American community. Using only his bare hands and his wit, Lee’s able to overcome anything that he’s faced with at the same time making intense facial expressions. As the only Asian fighters in the tournament of American contenders, Bruce Lee is a champion for the common man.

In the first twenty minutes of the film I was struck by the similarities between “Enter the Dragon” and the early James Bond films. A secret mission to an unknown island, a sinister evil doer (“Mr. Han”), everything down to the music and cinematography reminded me of the James Bond films (minus the booze and womanizing). For such a landmark film in Asian American popular culture I guess I expected the film to establish a new genre distinct from the existing 007 spy film culture. Even in an attempt to break away from the traditional stereotype of an Asian male, Lee is still constricted to a distinctly American film genre.

There were several moments in the film that were worthy of commentary. In an attempt to depict Lee as a man of principle who refrains from sexual pleasures, Lee is stripped of any sexuality. The luscious display of Asian culture on Han’s island was used to differentiate Lee from the other American fighters, who subjugate the other women in the film (similar to James Bond). With little dialogue and emoting only rage, Lee is not as easy to relate to as the other characters in the film, maintaining his otherness. While the film overcomes the stereotype of the weak and helpless Asian male from “Broken Blossoms,” it reinforces more stereotypes than it breaks down.

“Tomorrow we must go to the temple of Ding How and thank the goddess of heaven for television”

Having seen “Sound of Music” and “King and I,” I’m not exactly sure what I expected for an Asian Rodger and Hammerstein musical; I would describe “Flour Drum Song” as a frightening mix of Asian stereotypes, music, and dancing. I wasn’t sure if the use of language like “my father” and “my son” and descriptions of Mei Lee as having “skin like white jade” and being “built like a Ming vase” were intended to be humor or if it was supposed to be a somewhat realistic depiction of Asian Americans. I also found myself laughing a lot at the contrast between the on/off use of the Chinese accents by the un-Americanized characters like Mei Lee (“lotus blossom”) juxtaposed against the fluent English characters such as Linda Low (“dragon lady”). In the opening scene Mei Lee sings the song “One Hundred Million Miracles” (the theme song of the movie) but for me the disappearance of FOB Mei Lee’s faux accent once she started singing was the biggest miracle of all. I guess presenting an all Asian American cast was a miracle too.

Despite the offensive content throughout the movie, there are some truths in the father’s struggle to keep his two sons from becoming too Americanized. The character of the younger brother was intended to serve as comic relief with his use of American slang, yet I felt able to relate to the conflicts that Wang Chi-Yang’s sons have with their father. Phoebe Eng also writes about this conflict between children of Asian American parents in “Warrior Lessons;” the feeling of guilt and tension that accompanies going against our parent’s wishes. Madame Liang (Wang Chi-Yang’s sister in law) also plays an interesting role in the film. Constantly correcting Wang Chi-Yang about American culture, she draws attention to places where the Chinese and American culture clash. Even within the ridiculousness of this movie, there are some honest themes that relate to the experience of Asian American immigrants in the United States and the conflict between maintaining one’s Asian identity and Americanization.

Asian Tattoo Art: a source of Empowerment or a source of Embarrassment?

For the last six months, I have considered getting a tattoo. Ever since I was young kid, I’ve enjoyed buying temporary tattoos from vending machines and covering my body with images of scorpions, cobras, and barbwire. Tattoos symbolize a lot of different things for me: rebelliousness, self-expression, permanence, empowerment, legitimacy, and beauty. During my numerous visits to tattoo parlors and hours on the web searching for that perfect design, I have often thought of getting a tattoo that represents my Japanese heritage, like a Kanji symbol for my middle name. Yet, whenever I thought of following through with it, I couldn’t help but compare myself to the numerous Asian symbols I have seen over the years on non-Asians. Would my friends see the symbol on my back and put me in the same group as the hipsters and gangsters alike who get an Asian symbol for “good luck” or “power?”

I have a friend from high school who prides himself on his “multicultural collection” of tattoos. He has an American Indian symbol of an eagle, a Celtic knot, and a Chinese symbol for “strength.” Whenever I see his tattoos, they scream imperialism, racism, extotification, and exploitation, yet could the same symbol for me be a source of empowerment and legitimacy? With the majority of people getting Asian tattoos being white and black, the popularity of Asian tattoo art could also easily be viewed as a success of integrating Asian culture into the mainstream. Is it less offensive for a non-Asian to get a Kanji character if he venerates the symbol by knowing its meaning and history? Another interesting phenomenon which has taken place is the mistranslation (both intentional and accidental) of Asian characters: “gas” instead of “spirit” or “blood and intestines” instead of “blood and guts.” Poorly drawn and even upside down characters are another regular occurrence. For all of its complexities, Asian tattoo art serves as a good lens for examining production and abuse of Asian American popular culture.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,194732,00.html

http://www.imdiversity.com/Villages/Asian/arts_culture_media/pc_asian_tattoos_0604.asp

“What makes you so good to me Chinky?”

First of all I can’t believe that people could sit through an entire movie without any dialogue and such limited information about the plot. I went back and forth between laughing and being offended by the movie. I couldn’t believe that Richard Barthlemess could pass as Asian. I guess back in 1919 all of the other Asian actors were busy in other films. The role didn’t win Cheung Huan an Oscar apparently.

I was offended on multiple levels. The depictions of Cheung Huan as a rat-like “sensitive yellow man [who] shrinks in horror” (a broken blossom); the images of China as a place full of opium smokers, images of Buddha, American sailors, and bamboo pushcarts; the force that Battling Burrows felt justified exerting over Cheung Hang and Lucy; the use of Chinky as a term of endearment (Broken Blossom Lucy: “What makes you so good to me Chinky”)

Ironically, the movie attempts to make the audience sympathize with the miscegenation of the “interracial” couple and the injustice of racism. There’s history here though. The director of the film, D.W. Griffith, was also the director of “Birth of a Nation” (the racist propaganda film that glorifies the KKK and vilifies blacks). Was “Broken Blossoms” Griffith’s response to the racist remarks made about “Birth of a Nation?” If it was his attempt to clear his racist conscious, I think he missed the boat.

Net Gross for “Broken Blossoms:” $1 million
Net Gross for “Birth of a Nation:” $18 million [the most profitable film for two decades]

Finding a third way in a binary

Having never seen this movie before, I wasn’t really sure what to expect. After numerous references to the movie in Renee Tajima-Pena’s documentary, I knew the movie was supposed to be impactful, a cult classic. To my surprise, it wasn’t anything like I expected. Although the title should have given it away, I never would have guessed that it was a mystery/detective story.

Note: I wanted to see what my thoughts about the movie were before reading the section of “Screening Asian Americans.”

Before “SAA:” for me “Chan is Missing” seemed to share a lot of the same characteristics of RTP’s “My America,” even though it was restricted to the context of San Francisco’s Chinatown. The movie is an attempt to showcase modern Chinese Americans, using the characters to breakdown stereotypes and expand the images of Chinese Americans. The day to day life of Jo and Steve (great names!) were used in the film to display fashions, mannerisms, and daily lives, challenging the delineated identify of Chinese Americans. Jo’s meditations were also an effective way to add another dimension to the film expanding upon identity, the immigrant experience, and “Chinatown Politics.” Lastly I was intrigued by Wayne Wang’s choice of using a detective film, which is a popular early American film genre to do all of this. This balancing act of Asia and America throughout the film furthered nuanced the Asian-American identity.

After “SAA:” Peter X Feng added some interesting thoughts on the complexities of an Asian-American label and the ways that “Chan is Missing” advocates for it as an expression. I particularly liked his line:

“We will agree to refer to it as a label, but in doing so we must constantly foreground the inadequacy of the label...The question then becomes how exactly to mobilize such a label” (191)

Because without creating a “third term” out of this binary, no revolution takes place.

Answers please...

Similar to many of my classmates, the interview in “My America” with the two Philippina women in Louisiana and our discussion in class in Thursday got me thinking a lot about the concept of authenticity and exploitation. I am left with a lot of questions. Why is any non-Asian fascinated with Asian culture immediately seen as an exotification? On the flip side, why is any Asian disinterested in their own culture seen as a sell-out or a Twinkie? Where does this single dominant discourse come from that dictates who is authentic and who is a sell-out? At what point in time does a person become an individual free of the stereotypes and free of the academic jargon which tries to explain their behaviors and their decisions?

It becomes intensely personal when I turn to my parents, my mom is Asian and my dad is white. Was my dad a rice chaser? Was his interest in my mom spurred on the image of a submissive Geisha? I don’t want to think to think so. It’s easy to point the finger at society and talk about those faceless white males who exotify Asian girls, but when do we consider my dad as an individual whose motives and behaviors are so much more complex and can’t be explained by academia? I probably wouldn’t even be asking myself this question if my father had been Asian too, which brings up the issue of a double standard. Why is a fictitious Asian father’s interest in my mother granted some sort of immunity?