Kimchi Mamas

When do you most identify as Asian American?

(Or whatever community you identify with?)

Have you checked out the Addicted to Race Podcast yet?  Podcasts are what get me through my seemingly endless commuting and child-care shuffling.  I haven't been listening to Addicted to Race for too long, but in the brief time that Iv'e been listening, I have heard a great conversation with sister Kimchi Mama Jae Ran as well as tons of other interesting conversations all about race.

Check out this week's podcast for a Kimchi Mama shout out!!  Last week, Jen and Carmen were talking about when and where people choose to identify as X, Y or Z.  The conversation focused mainly on how some people of color do not feel like they experience racism or discrimination, and how this often leads people not to identify as X, Y or Z.  This could go for women, members of the LGBT community, people of different abilities, etc.

I felt like this was a narrow and slightly depressing way of describing Asian American identity - that my identity as an Asian American woman is based mainly on the racism (and sexism) that I feel that I face.  I recognize the history of why is important for Asian Americans to unite and fight together, but I'd like to believe that there are things to celebrate about being an Asian American, and for that matter, being a mother.  I feel like this is one part of what makes Kimchi Mamas so appealing to me.  This is a space to celebrate and support our community of Asian American parents.

But, it does pose an interesting question:  When do you identify most strongly as Asian American (or whatever you chose to identify as)?  Is it in the face of adversity?  Or is it in celebration of your community?

~ eliaday

Survivor thoughts

Goddammit I can't believe I watched Survivor again for the second week in a row.  I don't watch Survivor.  Really, I don't.

I don't have much to say on the subject except, well... okay:

We kicked ass again! FACE!

Did anyone catch the conversation when Becky was talking to Yul about forming an alliance.  How she said that naturally she'd form an alliance with him because they were both Korean? No other reason really. Not because one can spear fish real good and one can kill a chicken. Not because one can build a fire and the other can stand on one foot for a long time. Just, you know, the Korean thing.

Every Korean watching nodded silently, giving their tacit approval.

And everyone else was probably all, "Huh?  Why would they form an alliance just because they're Korean? What kind of strategy is that?"

You'll see, suckas.

—Stefania Pomponi Butler

Red Doors: Movie about Chinese-American family opens Friday in SF, LA

Earlier this week, I posted my interview with Red Doors director, Georgia Lee. Her award-winning film—already playing in New York—finally makes its way to the west coast this weekend.  It opens on Friday, September 22 in San Francisco (at the Clay Theater on Fillmore) and in Los Angeles (check local listings). Cast members and film makers will be present at all shows.

When I spoke with Lee last week, she told me that the only way they were marketing the film was via email. She has no marketing budget and yet her film was the top-grossing film on a per-screen basis during the second weekend in September. She encourages everyone to go out and see this movie to show Hollywood that, indeed, there is a demand for Asian-American films.

So what is the film about?

At first glance, it's about the Wongs, a typically dysfunctional American family that just happens to be Chinese. The film is told from the father's (Ed's) point-of-view. He is deeply depressed and is nostaglic for happier times.

Ed is retired and sees to have no real reason to live. His two eldest daughters, Samantha and Julie, no longer live at home, and when they are at home for tense family dinners, have no time for him. They have their own issues. His teenage, hip-hop-dancing daughter Katie is too busy pulling off outrageous stunts (involving bombs and flaming bags of dog shit) as "love letters" to her teen crush Simon.

Lee weaves home movies of her own childhood into this slick-yet-understated production. It is a very effective device which immediately brings to mind the sense of nostalgia and longing that Ed feels, and the happier times that are missing from the family.

The Wongs happen to sit around a table with a Lazy Susan in the middle of it, and use chopsticks instead of forks, but this family is every family. Their issues are universal and that is just what Lee intended.

The film is laugh-out-loud funny and, at the same time, tender and revealing. See this film and you'll probably never look at your family the same way again.
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If you live in San Francisco or Los Angeles, are you planning on seeing this movie this weekend? If you are let us know!  And if you attend the screening on Friday night in San Francisco, perhaps I'll see you there!

—Stefania Pomponi Butler

Honoring the Ancestors

I've been to Korea twice with my parents to visit my ten aunts and uncles and many, many cousins. Both times, we ventured out of Seoul to a small village near Tongduchon, up near the 38th Parallel.  After making the rounds of family visits, my uncles took us out to the countryside to visit the graves of our ancestors. 

The first time I went with them, I had no idea where we were going or why.  It seemed like we were just taking a scenic drive in the countryside.  After driving for half hour or so away from my #2 uncle's house, we parked alongside a busy road, waded through a thicket of tall grasses to a hillside covered with neatly-groomed round burial mounds. The site is edged by trees and not visible from the road or marked in any manner.  If you were driving by, you would not know that a cemetary is hiding there.  After trudging up the hillside, we found a small black obilisque with white writing on it--the grave marker of my grandfather.  In 1990, on my first visit, my grandmother was still alive; in 2000, she had passed away and her grave was next to my grandfather's.

At the gravesite, my uncles spread a small cloth on the ground, brought out fruits, soju, and some tiny ceramic drinking cups.  My mother and her brothers then lined up in order of age, stood facing my grandfather's grave and solemnly bowed.  Then, together, they got on their knees, bowing their heads low to the ground several times.  When they were done, they each drank a cup of soju, and then poured a second cup on the grave.  "For Father," my mother explained.

After the children did their bows, it was my turn, along with my cousins who were along for the ride.  On our second trip, my husband and sister-in-law were with us, and took their turns bowing, along with my nephew, who was only 20 months old at the time.  He mimicked what the adults were doing, and showed his respect.  He was remarkably quiet during the entire ceremony, as though he intuitively knew that something solemn and ponderous was happening.  Afterwards, we sat on the ground and they drank the remaining soju and talked about their parents. My mother cried just a little on the second trip, remembering her mother.  She had not been able to attend the funeral, and this was her opportunity to say goodbye.

Interview with Georgia Lee: Director of the new film "Red Doors"

Last weekend in New York City, the number one grossing film on a per-screen basis was a movie with no marketing budget, no formal PR campaign, no major stars, directed by an unknown female director.  That movie was Red Doors, by Georgia Lee.

Red Doors is a narrative about a contemporary, dysfunctional Chinese-American Family. For the Chinese, to paint one’s front doors red is said to bring good luck, fortune, and harmony to the household. The term “Red Doors” is therefore an ironic counterpoint to a family that is emotionally distant and struggles to communicate. The film reflects on how it is often most difficult to connect with those nearest and dearest to your heart.

Recently I had the opportunity to chat with Georgia Lee.  We have a lot in common.  Both of us were raised in Asian households (I’m half-Asian), both of us grew up with the expectation that we would not only go to college but excel in our chosen careers (careers our parents approved of, of course!), and both of us grew up eating around a dining room table that had a large lazy susan in the middle of it.

in the media

recently, there's been a lot of discussion and posting around asian americans in the media - there's the new survivor, this story on 20/20, the yearly talking about the lack of representation of asian americans on prime time tv.

which got me thinking about how asian american parents are portrayed in american media.  i can actually think of several of kimchi mamas that are on tv or in other forms of media...

• mrs. kim on the gilmore girls
• angry little asian girl's mom
• margaret cho's mom

and, if you're familiar with any of these... well, i'll put it this way - they have nothing in common with me.  they all speak with accents.  they are mean and cold.  (though i guess in the last season of gilmore girls, we saw a new side of mrs. kim)

what other depictions of asian american parents are out there?  what do you think of them?

Survivor: Did you watch?

We came. We saw. We kicked ass!!!

Just kidding.

Kinda.

Okay. So. After writing about Survivor "Race Island," I had to watch the first episode to see how it all played out. (God, this show is BORING, but I digress.)  Yes, they divided the tribes by "race," but all the contestants were obviously schooled to refer to it as "a social experiment" (a term used multiple times in the first ten minutes). They also said over and over again that "race didn't matter," it's about the individual wins in the end.

Yes, we know.

Early on, Yul, one of two Korean-Americans in the Asian "Puka" (Hawaiian for "hole") tribe, expresses concern over being grouped according to race. He worries that the ethnic stereotypes will be flying and yet, ironically, it's his teammate, Cao Boi (the grizzled hippie), that lets the first epithet fly.  He wonders why his team can't get their boat moving when Asians are "so light" or "don't weigh a lot" or something like that. He is quickly admonished by one of the women who essentially tells him "no more Asian jokes."

The first challenge is a multi-phased race for fire and a "fire kit" full of kindling and kerosene. The Asian team comes from second place to handily win the challenge followed by the Hispanic, Causasian, and African-American teams.

(Ugh, it felt weird to write that last sentence. Anyway...)

The African-American team, who have to face Jeff Probst, immediately divides along gender lines. The men seem weirdly domineering and the women, despite their tough-talk, immediately succumb. Their voting is also split "boy-girl" with the three women bonding together to vote off a man. The two men did the same but were out numbered.

In all it seemed like a pretty harmless hour with no racial slurs being thrown around (except for Cao Boi). Jonathan, one of the white dudes, had a moment where he referred to contestants as the "Asian guy" and the "African-American guys." He might have been made a scapegoat by the editors—all the players could be referring to each other that way—but we'll never know.

What we do know is that next week, Cao Boi (aka "the First Asian voted off") will continue cracking Asian jokes and pissing off his teammates.

For a more thorough live-blogging re-cap, click here.

—Stefania Pomponi Butler

Good and Bad Stereotypes

“Damn sneaky Greek!” That’s what Schwartzenegger probably said upon hearing that it was Phil Angelides’s people who leaked the controversial “hot blooded” tape to the L.A. Times last week. I’m being flippant, of course, but this whole imbroglio begs the question: Who cares? Sure, the governor’s comments were in poor taste, but give the guy a break: The conversation was not intended for public consumption. Further, the “hot-blooded” Puerto Rican politician about whom the crack was made took the characterization as a compliment!

I did not vote for Schwartzenegger, nor will I in this coming election; still, I don’t think he’s an awful person for what he said. Come on… don’t you ever say things behind closed doors that would make you cringe if you heard them repeated on the 6:00 news?

One could argue that any stereotype – i.e., a characterization of a person based on race rather than individual qualities – is bad; but, what if the characterization is a “good?” One of the taglines we were kicking around for Kimchi Mamas in the early days said something like, “Burning your tongue with every bite,” (bad paraphrase, sorry Stefania!), which implies that we’re spicy, hot-blooded, and passionate women. Well, yes I am, thank you. There have been other posts about Koreans being generous and other things. If the stereotype is “positive,” then is it okay?

One last thing about Arnold’s comment: I do realize that because the man is a public servant, the standards of behavior against which he is measured should be elevated from those for us regular folks. Because the man’s in public office, perhaps he has no right to engage in a not-so-PC conversation, in the privacy of his office, about the qualities of a colleague. Well, phooey! I believe that people ought to be able to have private conversations and not be punished for their content. People should just make damned sure that they conduct that conversation at home, in a park, or somewhere that’s not bugged.

Phil Angelides came out looking worse than Schwartzenegger in this whole debacle. His plan backfired badly. Wonder if any of this will matter in a couple of months?

Kimchi Mama to L.A.'s Homeless

Today's L.A. Times featured this story about a sixty-five-year-old Korean-American woman who feeds the homeless. According to the article,

For 20 years, Kim has been feeding the homeless of Los Angeles, rising each day at 2 a.m. to cook vegetable soup and bundle bunches of bananas, grapes and bagels into plastic bags. She distributes the food to people living under bridges, in parking lots and on street corners. The homeless greet her with hugs and call her 'Mama'.

Whenever I read about someone like Gloria Kim, I feel ashamed that I'm not doing more to help people in my community. What a role model!

--Weigook Saram

Asian American Women Live Longest

My husband just tipped me off to a story by NPR about a study on longevity and life expectancy. The study found that Asian American women in Bergen County, New Jersey have the highest life expectancy in the nation and generally live to be 91. In general, Asian Americans have a life expectancy of 84.9 years. Good news, right? Except that the disparity between the life expectancy of different racial groups in different locations across the country can be as great as 21 years (as is the case between those fortunate women in Jersey and inner-city black men). These disparities led Dr. Christopher Murray of the Harvard School of Public Health to suggest that there are actually "eight Americas" when it comes to life expectancy.

The study is also the first to closely examine second generation Asian Americans. It found that, despite the change in diets from their immigrant parents, second generation Asian Americans continue to have a longer life expectancy than the general population. Which, I suppose, is good news for me.

- Nina