Calling on McCain to talk about race

Calling all journalists in cyberspace: can you please start asking John McCain to talk about race? I know that there has been scrutiny placed on both Hilary Clinton and Barack Obama over the topic of "race" during this presidential election season. But has anyone asked John McCain about his views on race in America? Don't we think that he HAS opinions about race in America?

The other day a friend and I were talking about the remarkable speech on race delivered by Barack Obama last Tuesday. And she said that he was the only person qualified to talk about race in the way he did--honestly, openly, directly--among the presidential contenders. I agreed, but then I pointed out that there was one other person. I pointed out that John McCain was in a unique position to also talk about his experiences with race in America--most specifically, his relationship with the Vietnamese American community, in particular, and Asian Americans, in general, regarding his use of the slur "gook" back in the run-up to the 2000 presidential elections, when McCain's "Straight Talk Express" took him to use the racial slur, unabashedly--telling reporters that:

"I hate the gooks. And I will hate them as long as I live. You can quote me on this."

I have to say this for McCain--he is a "Straight Talker," if by straight talk you are unabashed in your use of hate-speech.

He immediately issued an apology as the Straight Talk Express headed into the multiracial (and heavily Vietnamese American populated) state of California. And eight years later, very few people (except for some random blog sites and chat boards) seem to have remembered this flap, which also received very little press eight years ago. For more on the original incident back in 2000, you can read about it in The Nation (which also details the free "pass" that McCain seems to have gotten from the news media back in 2000, and which seems to echo the treatment he's getting now), an Orange County article about a small protest by Asian American students, and a San Jose Mercury News piece that also has an excellent op-ed by William Wong at the bottom.

[Aside: if you click on the link for the chat board--the discussion (which began a month ago) is VERY DISTURBING and points to the ways in which anti-Asian sentiment doesn't seem to disturb very many people. In addition to using the phrase "gook" continually, other people have added the full list of racial slurs against Asians, and others recount stories of harassing and beating up Asian American kids they grew up with. Apparently, this is a source of humor, and yet I can't find anything funny about violence and racial profiling]

So why am I bringing it up now?

Because lets imagine that his apology was sincere--that he only meant to refer to the "gooks" he hated as his North Vietnamese torturers (the Asian American studies professor in me has to switch off the critical thinking/skeptical part of my brain here). Lets imagine that he really hasn't used that racial epithet again (or at least in public) and that he has truly worked with the Vietnamese American community in their anti-communist agenda. [aside: these are all things included in his apology--that when he used the phrase "gook" it was meant to refer to his captors rather than to all Vietnamese people or to Asians in general, and McCain is often popular among Vietnamese (specifically South Vietnamese Americans) living in the U.S. for his anti-communist positions--with some leaders going so far as to say that if you are anti-McCain you are pro-communist.]

This places McCain in a unique position to talk openly and honestly about race. To talk about the challenges of being able to distinguish between an enemy abroad during a time of war and a community of people living in the U.S. It would also give him the opportunity to descry anti-Asian violence, since much of anti-Asian violence starts with mistaken ethnic identity (like that enacted against Vincent Chin and others--like Ming Hai "Jim" Loo--a Chinese American man attacked in Raleigh, NC by two brothers who stated that they "hate all Vietnamese").

So why aren't we asking McCain how to have a clear dialogue on race in this country? Shouldn't the man riding (and running) the Straight Talk Express bus be the ideal person to talk, openly, honestly, and directly, about race in America?

Magazine Plug: Hyphen's Hybrid Issue

For those of you tuning in who wonder, "This blog is called Mixed Race America and while it talks a lot about race, I don't see a lot of focus on mixed-race people" fear not--here's my plug, at least for a magazine issue that covers mixed-race Asian Americans.

If you haven't checked out Hyphen Magazine, please go to their website (click here). Hyphen is an Asian American magazine based out of San Francisco and their latest issue, #13, is called the "Hybrid" issue and features a spectacular image of mixed-race/Hapa professor-artist-author Kip Fulbeck on the cover.


Kip Fulbeck is definitely someone to check out. I already put in a plug for his book, Part Asian*100% Hapa in an earlier post (click here). He also has a memoir, Paper Bullets that talks about his life growing up Chinese-Irish American in Southern California and his activist-artist work at UC San Diego. And he's got some really interesting films--you can find out more about him on his website, Seaweed Productions.

The Hyphen "Hybrid" issue looks like it has some interesting articles about mixed-race issues for Asian Americans, and you can also check out this essay by San Francisco State professor Wing-mei Dariotis and why she can no longer use the term "hapa" to describe herself or other mixed-race Asian Americans (click here).

I'm subscribing to Hyphen today--I hope some of you will too.

The only one (or two)

Yesterday I attended a state political luncheon that was a good four-hours away from my liberal college town. Why I got invited, why I drove four hours there, stayed four hours, and drove four hours back is too long to get into. Suffice it to say, I found myself, at 1pm, with a plate of local food--fried flounder, grilled swordfish, clear clam chowder, cheese biscuits, pork ribs, pork loin, black-eyed peas, coleslaw, and yellowcake for dessert (I was told to try everything, so I did--have to say the black eye peas and flounder were FANTASTIC!) sitting at a long banquet table with about 300+ people, who were either sitting or standing, Christmas music blaring out of speakers, and we were all inside a huge boat warehouse (the boats were stacked 3 deep) enjoying all this free food, courtesy of our host (who was also running for re-election on the democratic ticket), State Senator X.

At some point the proceedings began and State Senator X, invited all elected officials to join him on the stage, as well as the various presidents and chancellors of the state university system. So I saw two of my bosses--the president of Southern State's University system as well as the chancellor of Southern U where I teach. And there was the governor, the lieutenant governor, various state senators from the West to the East, and more local officials--city controllers, commissioners, aldermen (or alderpeople?). The stage held the power base of my state, and as we rose for the Star Spangled Banner (sung by a local high school junior who one day hopes to attend med school at Southern U) I scanned the stage and crowd and realized:

I am the only Asian American person in this entire crowd.

Actually, it turned out not to be true. I'm not sure at what point she came in, but there was another Asian American woman I saw as my party exited the building. So we were the only two Asian American people at this event (and I did get to walk around/mingle, and meet/greet some of the politicos on the stage and power brokers in the warehouse, including our host, State Senator X, who is a very charismatic fellow).

I also noted that while there were a few women on stage (and by few, I'd say about half a dozen) largely the state power base is comprised of white men--probably straight white men (or at least not out-gay men) since there was an off-color innuendo that was made about one man being able to vote on both sides of the aisle and therefore someone who "goes both ways" (UGH). But in a Southern State with a fairly large African American population and a burgeoning Latino population, there was not a single non-white person on that stage. And even among the 300+ in the warehouse, I'd say I saw about half a dozen Latino people (or who I'd identify as Latino), and about 2 dozen African American (perhaps 3 dozen--but seriously, it did not seem like there were a lot of black people walking around). And as I noted earlier, I was the only Asian American person I saw for the majority of the event.

I should add a caveat that there may have well been a few people from a local American Indian tribe in the crowd, since the state representative from that region was there and may, himself, have been American Indian.

Perhaps because of the party I was with or perhaps because of the way I was continually introduced (as an English Professor at Southern U) I didn't get weird looks and my racial paranoia didn't kick in. But I also didn't feel comfortable. And perhaps, more than anything else, I couldn't help thinking about representation. That our government, in large part, is based on a principle of elected officials who represent their constituents. And I thought about my Asian body in the midst of this largely white sea of people and the way that I could be seen as a representative of the "Asian" race--and that as I was introduced as an English professor, the way I represented Southern U. and liberal arts in general.

And I think it's sad--that I was the only one (or two) -- that I may or may not have had to represent on behalf of Asian Americans. And I think it's really sad that the power base of my state does not reflect the racial demographics of my state, especially given its antebellum, post-bellum, and 20th C. record on Civil Rights with respect to African Americans. I did ask if there were black state senators and I was emphatically told that there were "a lot" (although no one would give me a figure and we all know how people-of-color are perceived to be over-represented) but that they didn't come today, probably because of the holidays (which makes no sense because were they saying that black politicians take a longer holiday? Or perhaps that the black state politicians were largely Jewish and celebrating hanukkah?

I don't think I'd have the stomach for politics, but I do think that there needs to be a more diverse stage for power--because this is partly how we make change happen--that the power base, whether at the university, the city, the state or the national level begins to actually represent the diverse interests of all its constituents--and start to look like the demographics of its constituents as well. I know this begs the question of whether one has to "look" like someone to represent their interests. I guess all I can say is, I don't think it can hurt. And I certainly think that making room on that stage for more women, for out queer people, and for people of color, can only make this Southern State a truly progressive place.

Scenes from Seattle

In an effort to be less bare bones/text driven, I offer a few scenes from my trip to Seattle--a brief Asian American pictorial if you will.


First panel of mural at Pike's Place commemorating Japanese Americans' contribution to Seattle and the legacy of internment.



Last panel of mural at Pike's Place commemorating Japanese Americans' contribution to the area and the legacy of internment.



Lion dance in Seattle's Chinatown



Bruce Lee's gravesite (and the orange I brought him when I paid my respects)

Being Paranoid vs. Being a Target

I'm returning, once again, to the topic of racial paranoia, because over the Labor Day weekend I was in West Virginia visiting some friends. And over the course of three days I became aware that I must have had an invisible sign on my forehead that said "Please stare at me long and hard." While I think some of the staring was out of curiosity, there were distinct moments when the staring felt hostile. And it's hard for me to unpack whether it's because I was with my white boyfriend (which means we constituted an inter-racial couple, the only one I saw in the 3 days of our trip) or because I was visibly Asian and hence different and hence not from there (aside from looking at my face in the mirror, there were no Asian people I saw over the course of 3 days--not at rest stops or restaurants or gas stations or supermarkets or the Hampton Inn we were staying at).

I, obviously, felt paranoid. Even my white Southern boyfriend, born and raised in a Southern Capital, felt uncomfortable with the evangelical and conservative overlay we felt, at times, hitting us on our travels (which only increased my paranoid feelings, because if my white Southern boyfriend is feeling like West Virginia is uncomfortable TO HIM, you can only imagine what I was experiencing).

However, I want to be clear about one thing: nothing bad happened to us. Nothing was said. Nobody bothered us. While I may have detected a certain curtness with our Shoney's waitress (that's right, we ate at Shoneys: and for anyone traveling out there--DON'T DO IT! ONE OF THE WORST MEALS OF MY LIFE. But we were hungry and tired and looking for something quick near our hotel that wasn't fast food). And while the woman at the Dairy Queen could not take her eyes off me--kept staring at me with an expression on her face that indicated that she had stepped into something foul and unpleasant, nothing was said, nothing was done.

Which means, that all in all, it wasn't all that bad. Uncomfortable? Sure, but it is vastly different from experiencing the effects of real institutional racism.

Which is the topic of this post: The Jena 6. Again, for a more succinct (and visual) summary than I can provide here, please go to the link on the Racialicious website:

Link to Jena 6 case:

The African American teens in Jena, LA experienced people putting nooses on a tree, a man who aimed a rifle at them, being beat up at parties, and overall harassment and abuse. That's real racism. I mention this not to say that my paranoia isn't warranted--it comes from a place where I fear what is happening to these African American students could happen to me in places where I'm obviously a curiosity, at best, or an item of hostility and possible abuse, at worst. But the truth is, as much as I think it's folly to rank racism, the history of race relations in the South, of racism against African Americans in places like Jena, LA is a long and deep and troubled one. And it is different, my experiences as an Asian American woman, are different than the experiences of young African American men.