How It Feels

I am Asian, but I offer nothing
In the way of extenuating circumstances
Except the fact that I am the only Asian
In the United States
Whose grandfather on the mother's side
Was not--

Was not--

After reading Zora Neale Hurston's piece How It Feels to be Colored Me, I am prompted to analyze the parallels between the racial situation of blacks and Asians. Why is it that racism towards Asians seems to be disintegrating at a much slower rate than racism against blacks?

To a complete stranger, I fit the profile. I am a typical Asian girl who is good at drawing, is in the school orchestra, gets all A's, takes several AP classes, and is pleasantly reticent. I am an Asian girl, and that is what is expected of me.

Here in Troy, there really aren't that many black people, so a lot of racism and stereotyping goes on at school simply because they are a true minority at THS. But, at the same time, here in Troy, a different kind of racism exists for Asians; we are simply seen as a horde, a sea of faces that lacks any kinds of distinction and is consistently, though perhaps not explicitly, marginalized. Racism will always exist, regardless of the prevalence of one's ethnicity in an area.

Now, people are prompted to be racist toward blacks behind their backs, in whispers and after looking behind both shoulders. However, with Asians, people love to be racist to our faces. What with the horrific release of the horrible song "Asian Girlz" (don't Google this if you're weak) by Day Above Ground, I'm noticing more and more how racism toward Asians is simply brushed off as humorous and chumly. The band demonstrated a subtle but very present mindset toward Asians that is one of dismissive marginalization. I guarantee you that Day Above Ground would have NEVER EVER EVER even considered composing an equally racist song toward blacks with the same puke-worthy writing that is typical of all of their music (even the non-blatantly racist music). 

But I must say that the racial situation in America has drastically changed since Hurston's time. Indeed, I would be remiss to completely dismiss all social progress, but I must point out that this progress is fragmented and isolated to select groups; we still see open and blatant prejudice against Asians and Latinos for example (when will our rights movement begin?). But with the introduction of new ethnic and social groups in recent years, such as immigration of Asians and the gay rights movement, America still has to go a long ways in truly appreciating the diversity it claims to vanguard.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQt8-NKPdt0

It's All Quite Disgusting

We all chase them. Dreams. They dictate our choices, our thoughts, our habits, our lives. We spend much of our youth chasing after them, what with the extremely competitive emphasis that the current American education system places on "college" and "your career" and some vague idea of "the future." Whatever that means. I'm certainly not saying that those things don't exist or shouldn't be taken seriously, but I feel that we're all being pressured to look ahead for these things instead of enjoying them as present moments of growth or happiness.  

What I'm describing is oftentimes labeled the rat race. In middle school, they tell us that this is in preparation for high school. In high school, this is in preparation for college. In college, this is preparation for the workplace. In a job, this is so you can retire. WHAT?? I'm supposed to be happy—I'm supposed to take in the fruit of my hard work—only when I reach retirement? This is a travesty! This idea of this "ladder of success" leaves people always looking at their efforts as simply a means to an end. When we view life as simply a successive series of checklists, we forget to cherish and enjoy the immediate fruits of our labor, resulting in a misguided and ultimately unsatisfying experience.

We see Fitzgerald scathingly exaggerate the incredibly material emphasis his characters place on success, as they all base their goals or American dreams on some vague and material idea of happiness that is unfortunately only an empty Winter's dream. They're searching for happiness in the wrong places, and they realize, once they attain them, that they weren't as special or magical as once thought. An example would be that Gatsby's vision of Daisy only serves his own selfish and chimerical dream of happiness, a vision too large for anyone, much less the flimsy and acquisitive Daisy Fay, to fulfill to his satisfaction.

My point is that we build up these dreams, these goals, these far-off vague ideas of success and happiness, when we should really be focusing a lot more on the now. We say, "someday, I'll stop being lazy and be super successful and own a Lambo!"

No! Stop it!

What can you do now? Why not stop being lazy now? What is the present? We need to ask ourselves what can we do now that will bring immediate joy and also aid the future?

Note: I'm sorry. This post turned out to be the destiny's child between a self-help guide and the crazy rants of a high-strung lunatic. I wrote this post mostly for myself, so don't feel too put out. 

Thanksgiving is Weird

Back when I was younger, holidays and parties meant something much more. They were these cherished and coveted events that held special promise, something to look forward to during the year. Thanksgiving used to be on that list. Back then, my family would pack up and drive down to Indiana to spend a few days there. Incredible hybridized Korean-American Thanksgiving dinner. Cousins. Videogames. Then back home.

But I've found that in the past years, it fails to hold a special place in my heart like Christmas or my birthday does. It simply exists. It's never been a particularly charming or heart-warming occasion when my family stays at home, as we always end up fighting over something or leaving me with some vague and ambivalent dissatisfaction with the whole holiday.

This made me question my previous anticipation for the holiday when I was younger. What does/did Thanksgiving represent to me? Was it a chance for me to actually spend time with my family and appreciate their presence, or did its specialness only appeal to me when fun was involved?

My mother, who works in the retail industry, had to work on Thanksgiving and Black Friday and the day after that. As a family, we were forced to postpone our family dinner to Sunday night. At first, it seems kind of tragic and pathetic to not be cherishing the family time I've been allowed on Thursday, but then, does it really matter when we celebrate Thanksgiving? No. It doesn't. November 28th is simply a date, a marker on a calendar reminding us to actually do something with our families. Precisely when I spend time with my family does not matter one bit; all that does is that I do.

Thanksgiving is supposed to mean something. It's supposed to represent a reminder to each of us that we must spend time with our loved ones. Thanksgiving doesn't have to be—or maybe isn't supposed to be—fun. It's supposed to teach each of us a lesson in remembering our roots.