Tag Archives: being azn

“the invazn” on cfrc!

posted by jroselkim

A bit of self-promotion here – but the invazn was featured on Kingston’s independent radio station CFRC’s “The Massive,” a program dedicated to anti-racism/anti-oppression issues, news, and underground music. One of the DJs hosting the show is a good friend, and she approached me after reading my piece “does it get better?”, and asked me if she could read it on the show. Of course, I said yes.

To access the clip, type in “2010/12/20” and “1900” in the time slot, on the CFRC Archives page.

My piece “does it get better (for women of colour)?” gets read out loud at 24:05 minutes. The rest of the program is great too, with other great spoken word clips on living as a woman of colour, and of course, awesome political music. Thanks again, The Massive! It was such an honour to hear my piece read out loud.

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a christmas dinner unlike any other

posted by jroselkim

This is what Christmas dinner looked like at my parents’ house this year:

It’s called 감자탕 – a potato stew with…well, potatoes, cabbage, Korean chili sauce and beef, stewed together for almost an entire day. Yes, it’s delicious.

I remember feeling vaguely envious of my “white” friends, who got to eat turkeys and other “traditional” Christmas fare when I was in high school. I also know that my 16-year-old brother is going through a similar cycle of embarrassment, as he begins to escape family dinners in favour of A&W burgers. Part of me feels like giving him a stern lecture, but the wiser part of me knows that it will only drive him away further. What’s a sister to do, but just watch a younger sibling grow up and hope that he will one day realize that there is a world outside of this white suburbia?

What did your Christmas dinners look like?

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does it get better?

posted by jroselkim

I’ve been thinking a lot about growing up lately, especially growing up as a minority identity after watching Dan Savage’s “It Gets Better” project unfold. If I were influential enough to start a similar campaign for young girls of colour everywhere, would I be able to confidently tell them that it will in fact get better when they get to be 18, 22, or 35?

The truth is, life gets more complicated as one’s racial consciousness awakens, and the burden of being a visible minority never gets lighter.

In a way, perhaps it has the potential to get worse as we learn the ways of the world, about concepts like institutionalized racism. How can I express the feeling of betrayal and hopelessness I felt when it became crystal lear that racism is so embedded, so naturalized within society that we are trained to not see it, to self-hate and hate others for not being a blank slate?

How can I describe the fear I felt at reading about hate crimes targeted towards interracial couples that happened in Canada as recently as this summer?

How can I articulate the shame I felt about having an egg-and-ketchup sandwich at the age of 12, when these things mattered all the world, and couldn’t help but hate my own mother for trying, trying so hard, but failing to be “Canadian” like other mothers? How can I express my guilt and sadness for hating my parents for where they came from for so long?
I can’t.

So how should I go on, and how should we all go on? I have no answers, and I cannot, with good conscience, look at a camera and say confidently that life will get better.

But I can say this.

Dear young woman of colour,

I apologize that I have no real words of comfort for your future.

But please know that I understand:

every ounce of shame you’ve shed for feeling different
even though that person only was curious,
only had good intentions when he or she reminded you of your otherness.

I know

that you may question your motive for being attracted to someone who is
outside of your race
because if you may wonder
does he/she like me for me?
or my skin colour?

(and you’ll never know, or at least, never trust the answers)

And your friends and family may wonder out loud:
is she a traitor to her culture?
does she just want to move “up”?

And maybe you just want to give up because it’s easier
to follow everyone’s expectations;

you may not know what makes you happy anymore,

amongst mixed messages that say you should be both

obedient and integrated

but still

separate.

So,
I don’t know if it gets better

as you grow older, as you grow into the othered consciousness

that you express mostly through self-deprecation,

uncomfortable smiles

and distractions.

And I’m sorry that we may fail you in battling racism
that difference is (still) more or less a dirty word.

But please know that there are allies. Others who feel the same way as you do.

Of course, nobody feels the exact pain that you had. Do not let anybody tell you that they know exactly how you feel, and prescribe a solution.

More importantly: do not let anybody tell you that your emotions are not real. Never ever succumb to those that want to rationalize your legitimate hurt. Because if they succeed in doing that, they succeed in taking your history away. They succeed in quashing the uniqueness that makes you powerful, just so they could sleep better at night.

And please know that while life may not get so much better, it does get better when you can find your voice, and others like yours.

I still make do because other stories from women of colour opened my eyes to tell my own.

And your stories will inspire others that come later to continue fighting, and hopefully exist in a society where our skin colours, our cultures, and our languages are no longer a burdern

but just a part of you.

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how white patriarchy stays afloat

posted by jroselkim

missmsian already wrote a great post about the negative press about too many Asians trolling Canadian universities, so I won’t talk about the offending articles from yesterday in detail. I do, however, want to discuss the growing trend in this paranoia-mongering “research” that The media’s obsession with asking whether Asians are going to dominate the world and make the whites suffer is not unlike its other obsession: whether men will be less successful than women because education is becoming more and more “feminized”. The Globe and Mail ran a week-long feature on the “failing boys” syndrome series last month.

My first reaction to these questions, as both a woman and a person of colour, is to say, “seriously?”

Let’s do the math.

How long did it take for people to notice that maybe women should also receive the same accessibility to education as men, and civil rights?
Centuries.

How long did it take the media to worry that boys were falling behind the women?
About 2 or 3 decades.

How long did it take the governments to realize that people of colour deserve the same rights as the whites, and apologize for their past wrongdoings to minority groups?
Centuries. And sometimes, never, if we’re talking about apologies.

How much time does it take the administrators to get nervous about this so-called takeover of the people of colour?
Much, much less than a century.

Don’t get me wrong, it worries me too that Quebec’s male adolescents have a 40% high school dropout rate. Studying how demographics shift in institutions can be a very interesting study. But what I really want to point out is the sense of urgency and panic that many of these articles seem to have about the threat to maleness and whiteness. When there’s even an inkling of a chance that maybe the white patriarchal hegemony is maybe kind of on the way out, society is IN DANGER, people. And of course, when one asks “is XXX too white?” the answers always tend to be “you’re so sensitive,” toward the interrogator, but when the question “is XXX too [insert minority group here],” the response seems to give the interrogator more rational credit.

One day, I hope to open a newspaper or a magazine and not be compelled to throw it out the window. One day.

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salt

by Celine/ellephanta

These are reasons why I cried (way too often to admit) when I first immigrated to Canada:

I wanted to express how all of this felt (the rude culture shock and other consequences of uprooting one’s entire life and throwing it on foreign soil) to someone who might hear me, but I didn’t speak the language. I wanted to understand what was going on around me and be an active member of my surroundings, but I didn’t understand the language. I wanted to be able to read my textbooks and get the right answers to teachers’ questions, but I couldn’t read the language. I wanted to write, because it was my favourite thing to do and one ability I prided myself for having, but I was illiterate. I wanted to be popular and loved – who doesn’t want to be popular and loved at that age? – but I was alone, locked inside myself with no way out. I watched TV and felt ugly. I wanted to be the best at everything, because I am and have always been a ridiculously ambitious girl, but I was slow and stupid and “god, you don’t understand anything I say!” and “why do I have to be paired up as partner with someone who doesn’t even speak English?” and “tell the class about your life back home” and “go home”.

But all that salt water was not wasted, so it’s okay. It fell on my skin and hardened there, left a mark. Some of it I swallowed and it dripped all around my heart and made a shell of crystals. It taught me to give a damn about people who are miserable (way more miserable than I have ever been) and indifferently left out in the cold. It taught me to be angrier for better reasons. It taught me to be less selfish. It taught me how to say “fuck you and your condescending asshole”.

And now I love it, this salt on my skin and around my heart. I love it most, sometimes more than anything else in me. It is my comrade-in-arms. It is my best friend. I used to resent it, thought it was proof that I was weak, but I don’t anymore. Now I know better. I feel better.

 

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why i can’t be an actress

posted by ellephanta/Celine

I told my mother that I wanted to be an actress a long time ago, and she said, I support you no matter what you do, but here are two things about it you should consider before making that decision and pursuing it.

1. A woman’s beauty is prone to constant decay in the eyes of the society, and this is extremely the case when it comes to show business, which is aggressively superficial. It wants a specific kind of beauty and as a result, my professional career will depend entirely on the judgment of others. Intelligence and wisdom, however, knows no gender and it is certain and relatively within your control. It doesn’t decay with time, it only deepens and widens, and it is certainly a better horse to bet on.

2. Being a colored person, you will not get the title roles. You will get to be the title character’s best friend or brief love interest. If you do get a role, you will often be expected to discuss your identity as a racial minority, either insultingly vaguely or painfully in depth. It will be used against you everywhere. This is painfully wrong, but it will happen because show business is a place run by people who will do that to a colored person, for an audience that will eat it up exactly as is and demand more of the same. If it’s hard to make it as an actress, it is unimaginably harder to be a colored actress.

This was really painful to hear, not because I was that invested in wanting to be an actress (I had basically wanted to be everything in those days, from a teacher to a rock star) but because I realized in my young age that the North American promise of “endless opportunities and infinite possibilities” was a gross exaggeration.

There is a reason why there aren’t enough Azn/colored people in the media, why there are so few out there for the casting directors to hire (“well, bring me a sexy Azn girl who’s right for the role, we’ll hire her for sure!”). It’s because most casting directors don’t want them.

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an open letter to The Walrus: on why “chinaman” jokes are not acceptable

posted by jroselkim

Dear Editors of The Walrus,

I was really enjoying reading Noah Richler’s feature “My Dad, the Movie, and Me” until an unexpected racist joke hit me like a ton of bricks towards the end of the piece. Mr. Richler describes a conversation he has with his best friend, who tells what Mr. Richler describes as “his signature punster’s bad jokes.”

“Noah, when does a Chinaman go to the dentist?” he asked.

“I dunno, pal. When?”

“Tooth-hurty.” (p.48)

Mr. Richler states that this “joke” occurred after his father’s death, so I can safely say this happened sometime after 2001. Little did I know that “a Chinaman” was still used as a “funny” term in the 21st century. I was also unaware that we were still okay with making jokes about the hilarious ways that Asian people speak. Because those Asian people, they just can’t speak English correctly, no matter how long they’ve been living here, right? And those silly Chinamen – many of whom worked under terrible conditions to build our railways – they still deserve those awesomely bad puns after all these years, don’t they?

I’m not sure if that qualifier “bad” Mr. Richler uses in the piece sufficiently describes the kind of offensive attitude his friend exhibited. Do we still live in a society where we make bad puns about the “others” and print them without thinking twice? Frankly, I am equally appalled that the editors and the copy editors at The Walrus let this joke pass on to the public (many of whom are – inevitably – of Asian origin). It makes me feel ashamed to be subscribing to a magazine (which prides itself in serious, in-depth journalism) that is in fact so blind to a hurtful racial stereotype.

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