Tag Archives: Asian American

Today in Casual Racism…


Please note the tab on the computer screen that says “cat.jpg.”

Face, palm. Palm, face.

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Filed under Race

Food and Authenticity: You are What You Eat, or Why I Feel Like A Race Traitor when I Eat Sweet and Sour Chicken.


Americans are obsessed with authenticity. We are a nation of immigrants, not even three hundred years old, with no dominant cultural tradition other than Christianity, and even that is splintered into smaller spheres of influence. The only universal folktale is the American Dream, the only universal hero George Washington, who manages to get a free pass on slavery because he looks good in comparison to TJ.

Americans pursue authenticity in a myriad of ways, most of which fall into the following two categories:

1)   Being Authentically American

2)   Being Authentically Something That Has a Cultural Legacy of More Than 236 Years

Things that fall under category 1: white supremacists, fundamentalist churches, extreme assimilation by immigrants (i.e. a complete rejection of all things associated with the country of origin including but not limited to language, food, and clothing), Cowboy and Indian movies, self-loathing POCs, the NRA, the Tea Party, LA circa 1950

Things that fall under category 2: appropriationist hipsters, Hare Krishna, Starbucks, 2nd or 3rd generation immigrants looking to reconnect with their cultural roots, people who complain that New York isn’t Paris, The Karate Kid, Eat, Pray, Love, and other movies about other cultures where none of the main characters are from that culture, slum tourism, a significant portion of gap years, “Navajo” chic.

Note: The concept of authentic “blackness” is something that doesn’t fit entirely into either of these categories. Blackness (as opposed to African-ness) is typically considered to be an authentic American tradition but is not considered to be representative of the American tradition as a whole. American is commonly used as a synonym for white; to designate a black American, some sort of modifier is necessary (case in point).

And now the part where I talk about sweet-and-sour chicken.

Sweet and sour chicken is as authentically American as pizza and hamburgers. Like pretty much all “American” foods, it is a bastardized version of a dish from another culture that has evolved so as to be basically unrecognizable/unreproducable by members of that culture. It is also pretty damn good.

First layer of awkward: To a not-unsubstantial percentage of the American population, sweet and sour chicken represents authentic, exotic Chinese food. When people eat sweet and sour chicken and think that it is authentic, they display a certain level of ignorance about Chinese culture that is mildly infuriating/hilarious to many Chinese Americans. I realize that this seems somewhat unfair, but as a child who was told by a 3rd grade teacher that Chinese people eat fortune cookies to celebrate Chinese New Year, and as a child who then got in trouble for informing said teacher that fortune cookies are American, and as a child who was accused of eating cat, and as a child whose dumplings “smelled like MSG,” I can attest to the fact that ignorance about food is often linked to other, nastier types of ignorance.

Second layer of awkward: There is a segment of the non-Asian American population that has realized that sweet and sour chicken is not authentically Chinese and therefore goes very far out of its way to prove how truly cool and awesome and adventurous it is, while snobbishly looking down on sweet and sour chicken-eaters. These people think of your culture as being a consumer good. No matter what you say to them they will always be more Chinese than you, are too open-minded to ever be racist, and are really fucking annoying.

Third layer of awkward: I was not raised in an “authentically Chinese” household. I’m a half white kid from the South, which is a depressingly large Asian food desert. I wasn’t friends with Asian people because there weren’t any. I identify as Asian/Chinese because that’s what everyone always told me I was, not because I was raised in any particular tradition. Translation: I AM A POSER. The only difference between my experiences with authentically Asian food and culture-consumers’ experiences with authentically Asian food is that I’ve got a Chinese mom who has got a Chinese mom who has on at least one occasion killed a pigeon from her balcony and made soup with it (isn’t it awkward how I’m using that anecdote to shock people into accepting my half-baked claim on authenticity?)

Things that go through my mind when I consider ordering sweet and sour chicken:

1)   Am I eating with white people? I will counterbalance my sweet and sour chicken order with a very loud and obnoxious yet casual statement about how sweet and sour chicken isn’t REAL Chinese food but probably I will make that statement and still not order sweet and sour chicken.

2)   Am I eating with Asian people?
2a) Are these Asian people more Asian than me? Nope no chicken.
2b) Are these Asian people problematically self-identified twinkies? I’m already judging them way harder than they’re going to be able to judge me.  Sweet and sour goodness come to mama.
2c) Are these Asian people actually my friends? I will start a hilarious conversation about all of my sweet and sour feelings and then order sweet and sour chicken.

3)   Am I eating alone?
3a) Are there lots of white people around?
3a) i. Will these white people be able to tell that I’m part Asian? Well poop, if I’m eating sweet and sour chicken, I’ll be reinforcing their ignorance.
3a) ii. These white people will definitely not be able to tell that I’m part Asian. I could get away with ordering sweet and sour chicken but this is also an opportunity to educate the masses….I’m going to order something made with organ meat.
3b) Are there lots of Asian people around? LOOK, SEE I’M ONE OF YOU. I’M NOT ORDERING SWEET AND SOUR CHICKEN.

4)   I need to go home and meditate on my privilege.

In conclusion:
My cravings for sweet and sour chicken are a feedback loop from hell. If I give in, I’m a bad Asian and I’m enabling ignorance. If I don’t, I’m a pretentious douchebag who’s buying into and reinforcing societal expectations of what authentic Asian-ness is.

Screw this. I’m getting pho.


Filed under Life, Race

It’s like being a health inspector and finding nothing wrong with the Asian place that has the chicken hanging in the window.

“Paul Ryan is their tough guy on spending but he doesn’t want to touch defense — that’s right, a budget hawk who doesn’t think there’s anything bloated about the Defense Department’s budget. It’s like being a health inspector and finding nothing wrong with the Asian place that has the chicken hanging in the window. This is how low we’ve put the bar for political courage…”

Bill Maher in the Huffington Post


If I had to pick a blanket term to describe my political views, it would be liberal, and in our exalted homeland’s highly functional two-party system, this means that I almost always back Democratic candidates. The Democratic party, its candidates, and its platform are (generally) less racist, sexist, and homophobic than the Republican party, and this pleases me. I try to feel ok about the fact that my vote is basically decided using the criterion “who doesn’t hate me,” but occasionally I realize how ridiculous it is that my criterion for voting is “who doesn’t hate me.”

Then, there are those days when I am reminded that the criterion is not “who doesn’t hate me,” but rather, “who hates me less.”

Liberal racism, y’all. It’s a thing.

Now, I can whole-heartedly sympathize with Bill Maher’s sentiments towards Todd Akin and his magical rape-proof vagina (I know it’s technically the uterus, but vagina has such a nice ring to it). Unfortunately, the fact that Mr. Maher has reasonably educated views on the non-existence of magical rape-proof vaginas does not cancel out his unreasonably uneducated off-hand insult towards Asians. I mean, really, he couldn’t think of a better simile?

The abridged run-down of the racial stereotypes invoked through Bill Maher’s dissing of Asian places with chickens hanging in the window:

  1. The curse of the perpetual foreigner. In the eyes of the media/average American, Asian Americans are more strongly associated with their “country of origin” (nevermind if that country of origin is the US) than with America. They are always them, not us.
  2. “Asians are all the same”- “Asian” places are typically not ones that have chickens hanging in the window due to the fact that pan-Asian cuisine typically (not always) caters to people who order Pad Thai and Sushi from Chinese restaurants and hence are probably the kind of people who  would be totally grossed out by seeing a chicken hanging in the window (unless they are authenticity junkies looking for their latest ethnic fix). No, it’s more likely that the ethnic group Mr. Maher was trying to insult were “the Chinese slaves who make TVs” that he refers to later in his article.
  3. “Asian people are gross”- This one has mostly died off since the Gold Rush, but people occasionally like to bring it back every so often to keep the model minority from getting too many ideas. Oh, your daughter got into to Harvard? WELL AT LEAST I DON’T EAT CATS (unless I’m eating them to prove how cool and authentic I am because your culture is only acceptable when I consume it).


Look, this isn’t a BIG FREAKIN DEAL. No one’s going to show up outside of Bill’s office with picket signs. I’m not crying myself to sleep tonight. I honestly don’t think that most people who read his article even caught the comment. But it’s this kind of racism–the kind where people laugh at off-hand comments and ask you about your Tiger Mom and complain to you that their ex-boyfriend is dating an Asian girl–that flies under the radar straight into the heads and hearts of Good Liberal Americans Who Don’t See Race Because I Adopted A Korean Baby And Also I Have A Black Friend. Maybe I should vote Republican- at least they’re upfront about what they believe…

Just as soon as my magical rape-proof vagina arrives in the mail.


Filed under Race