I am a girl. - Aren’t I? I have long hair, I have eyes, I
have a nose, I have a mouth. I wear clothes, I wear pants, maybe I wear a dress
sometimes and wants to wear high heels. I wear glasses, but I don’t wear them
because they make me look smart. Wait, but I’m Asian, so I have to be smart;
maybe it doesn’t matter if I have my glasses or not. I put my hair down, and
wear lipstick because that’s the alluring asset that lets me fit in with the
media’s beauty standard. Speaking of which, I have to make sure I buy the
lightest shade of foundation to get the perfect pearl white skin. I can’t wear
hoodies because that would make me a tomboy, I can’t wear sneakers because that
means I am not trying hard enough. I know how to drive I am probably a bad
driver, and possibly because I am Asian? – Let’s think about all I just said
for a moment. (pause)
Yes,
I am an Asian girl, or as media always calls us. We are never categorized as
women. Now, don’t start telling me that girl and women are the same – they’re
not. Would you ever call a grown man a boy? No, you refer them as guys or men,
but when someone accidentally refers a man as a boy, everyone gets offended.
However, when a woman gets called a girl, it all becomes somewhat of an over
reaction. I was rewatching old Disney Shows the other day with my sister. We
were watching Jessie on Halloween. When a character told Luke that these girls
were scared to go to the Haunted House, Luke was offended to be a girl. I
stared at the screen. Why is being called a girl so offensive? We’re human.
We’re a person. We’re not weak, I kid you not. Some GIRLS are actually more
courageous than other boys. Oh wait, I meant men. Now, don’t get me wrong, not all people are
sexist, or racist, but I was always under the impression that my identity was
formed around the fact that I was a female, an ASIAN female. Just that some
majority of the people are clueless about me, about the general Asian, clueless
as in I don’t understand why you’re not “me”, or in my case why am I not white.
Maybe it’s
because I am Asian. See, I look at the ads, and I see a white person here (points) here (point) and here (points) wait,
there’s an Asian there. Whoops. (That
was a joke by the way) I searched up Asian women in ads, and I barely found
any.. Which makes me wonder, where are the rest of us? We’re people and we live
in America, but why are we so underrepresented? The misrepresentation of women
in Hollywood is already a known issue, but women, and women of color gets so
stereotyped that it becomes frightening. What makes us different from others?
When do we realize we are of a specific race?
I was born
in the United States but my parents brought me back to live in another country
literally as soon as I was born. I flew back to the United States by myself
when I was young. I was not welcomed with open arms like others would expect.
Instead I roamed around the whole airport by myself looking for a person that I
have never met by name. My relatives didn’t care much about me because I was a
little girl that came from Hong Kong, so they immediately deemed me as a child
who would be a shame to the whole family and wouldn’t be successful. My cousins
despised and belittled me because they were allowed to – meaning, because I
didn’t understand English they would purposely single me out. My cousins were
all male, by the way. I was a girl who loved the sports they did and I always
wanted to join them, but all I remember were the words, “You’re a girl who
doesn’t speak English, you can’t play with us.” In their broken Chinese. At
least they tried. I desperately wanted to fit in, I desperately wanted to show
them I can do everything they can, but I couldn’t scrap the words out of my
mouth. My parents weren’t in the US yet, and I desperately wanted someone to be
there. There was no room for me, so I slept on the floor of my grandparent’s
room. I didn’t sleep for days sometimes, all I did was cry to myself. But being
of Asian American decent, I was expected to be quiet at home first and because
I was a girl. Crying to sleep, sometimes I would wonder, why did my parents
bring me here?” I thought this was a vocation. When the week was over, I just
wanted to vent out, to speak out.. just to be free.
But that’s
not how it works. My cousins lived here since they were born. They had already
adopted the culture, in fact they were only exposed to one culture, the media.
What ever they see on TV, and whatever the misogynistic past generation has
taught them, it was embedded in their heads. So because I was the perfect
target, not knowing English at all, I was the one they hated. As an Asian woman
living in America, wherever I go, whatever I do, I will always be criticized. I
will always be “not good enough” or “I don’t belong here” Then, the stereotypes
that they’ve “learned” over the years are thrown at me, like those of being an
Asian female driver. Even then, I don’t know what it means. Did you just
describe how I look by obviously physically seeing that I am in fact Asian and
Female? I’m not offended, but I have to ask. “At what point would people grasp
and apprehend the idea that race and sex issue are controversial?” The
innocent, yet striking questions that still surround my identity continues
forever.
When people ask me, “Where are you from?” I
say, “America.” “No where are you really from?” “New York.” After that, people
just walk away. Truth is though, I am American. I was born in America, I speak
English pretty well with an accent not easily detected. I just lived in
different countries when I was young. But my life is surrounded by people who
keep reassuring me that I’m not American, and the fact that I don’t belong
here. Little words that were supposedly said to put me in my place were words
that I will forever remember. Mm, maybe it’s easier said this way. I had to
understand that I was Asian because I already knew that I was a girl all my
life. And because of this, I decided to ask 3 women of color that live in 3
different countries the same question: “When did you realize you were Asian?”
My first friend from Hong Kong, 18,
was so confused. She said “Why are you asking?” And I replied with “Just answer
me.” And she responded, “I have always been a Hong Kong person. What answer
were you expecting?” She was confused.
Living in Hong Kong basically all her life, she identified as a Hong
Kong woman.
Go onto the
second scenario, I asked my friend from Korea, 25, and becoming a lawyer Oh,
woman of Power. How shocking. I’m guessing she might have a little bit more of
the story. And I was right! I asked the same question. Her answer.. wasn’t
exactly similar to my friend from Hong Kong, but rather, she knew she was
Korean when she attended school. She said “Here in Korea, there were already
some foreigners especially in my age around me.. so.. I didn’t really learn
that I’m Korean, but rather I learned that I lived in Korea and there are other
countries. They look different and they speak different. I don’t remember the
exact moment I realized this, but I knew all of us were Korean.” So basically,
she just accepted them as her friends and peers.
And in the last
one, I asked my good friend the same question, 21, lives in America, and her
answer as you see it “When I was 4 and capable of actual thought and
comprehension the moment I came back to Peru from China after Peruvians called
me Chinita.” was something that I was not too surprised to hear. The situation
is similar, just the countries were different. We weren’t too accepted by our
peers, by that I meant non-Asians, so I decided to become Americanized. Or as
Chinese people call it ABC, American Born Chinese which comes off as an insult
from older generations. However, the more I became “Americanized” the more
popular I became. I was liked more, because my “personality”, the conformity of
popular American norm, deviated from their expectations. I was confronted by a
classmate saying that “Jessica, you’re so ghetto, that’s why I like you.” I
looked confused. She noticed and she reassured me “Oh, haha it’s because all
the Asians I know are quiet.” Either way, I was happy and I became more
confident that I was accepted because I knew I was similar to the American
norm.
But, going
back to the second photo. My friend said that she noticed that those around
her, even though they looked different from her, those people were Korean
because they LIVE in korea. Doesn’t the same concept apply here? We, Asian
American females especially, get judged and criticized on. This is no longer a
story, a list of questions, but rather just a jigsaw puzzle. Perhaps it may be history
trying to crush us, but our memories from experiences are more important books,
because what’s said in books about us are not our lives. Instead of realistic
stories, we usually see the depiction of the false representation of an Asian
American women, but a destructive one. Media has managed to paint a picture of
a small percentage of Asian women, and make it represent an entire Continent.
Or it takes the positive characteristics, like the fact that Asian women can be
strong and visceral, but portray it in a negative way. For example, Tiger mom –
the image of a strict cruel Asian mother who lacks room for depth and emotion
just so their children could succeed. But, it cuts out all the heritage, roots,
and struggles the mother goes through to reach acceptance in a different
country.
My mom
always told me “They have eyes, they have a nose, they have a mouth. Why are
you scared of them?” The questions still sticks now, even though I clearly
could communicate with non-asians in the room. But I want to be loud because I
can, not pressured by those around me saying I can’t. If I don’t stay loud, the
misrepresentation and underrepresentation of Asian American women in media will
stay silently known. It’s easy to say “It’s just a movie.” Or “It’s just a joke.”
But, so much of art reflects on reality. If you consume media, the same
stereotypes will just be repetitive. Slowly you would begin to believe those
stereotypes are true, since you’ve been seeing it so many times. Ever
stereotyped Asian American women representation pulls us back to the simplicity
of our culture. And as a result, it just gives a false picture to those who
don’t know any better. Then, it will make it difficult for those who need to
find their identity and realize who they are. Asian Americans aren’t taught to
be proud of who they are. If I stayed in America, I would have felt less proud
to be Asian. And had I stayed in Asia, I would feel less proud to be American.
Yet, the
truth is I am Asian but not Asian enough to be accepted in Hong Kong or Korea. I
am American, but not American enough for others to realize it. I am a woman,
but people still call me a girl. I am not similar enough to be accepted and
we’re not different enough for people to understand. But, it doesn’t matter,
because I am Jessica and this is who I am.
I am interested in creating a TedTalk event! Maybe I can actually present this in the near future!
