– today’s guest post coming from my awesome roomie Kat, featuring her photos –

“What do you mean you’re studying computer science? I thought, for sure, you would be studying musical theatre or drama.” This is the response I most often get when I tell people from my hometown that I’m studying computer science. And with good reason. During the majority of my teen years, the place you would most likely find me in would be a music room or a dance studio or an auditorium. I trained as a “triple threat” in singing, dancing, and acting, participated in Broadway workshops, spent my free time, non-rehearsal time writing correspondence for boutique theatre websites, and living and breathing theatre on Broadway.

And then, I left it all, gradually and then all at once.

When people ask me what happened, I usually tell them that I find the same rush of theatre from solving an algorithm, that computer science allows me to pursue creativity in the same way and still gives me a stake in creating the world that I want to live in. And this is true, but also false. The truth is that I would’ve pursued theatre and I could’ve pursued theatre, but I was afraid. Not simply because the majority of actors ending up in food services, or because I had doubts in my sensibilities and abilities as an actor (though I did). I doubted that with my skin color and with my eyes, I had the bravery to pursue something which I really, truly enjoyed and loved.

I’m Asian American. There aren’t many Asian American actors on screen, certainly not ones who look like me. And yet, this decision of mine still haunts me: did I believe that I wasn’t good enough because there was no one who looked like me on the big screen or small screen? Did I lack role models who could show me that being Asian or being Asian American is okay and something that should be celebrated? Is it because there has only been one woman of Asian descent ever nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress? Or did I genuinely believe that I wasn’t good enough? I still could not tell you. But through my guilt I have found ways to be supportive of Asian Americans and Asians in entertainment, ways that I will share with you:

1 // Call out misrepresentation and yellowface

Or as Constance Wu refers to it, ‘the practice of blackface employed on Asians.’ Whilst blackface has largely been phased out of popular Western media, yellowface continues to persist. In this past year, Scarlett Johansson (Ghost in the Shell), Emma Stone (Aloha), and Tilda Swinton (Doctor Strange) have all practiced yellowface, portraying Asian characters as white people (and Matt Damon somehow saved China from dragons, ain’t no white people in ancient China). Even more shocking is that in some of these movies, Ghost in the Shell in particular, CGI is employed to make an actor appear more Asian. This problem is persistent; it didn’t end with the civil rights movement. And simply because yellowface is not worn through CGI or makeup, does not mean that it is suddenly acceptable for a white person to play a character meant to be Asian.

2 // Seek out and demand Asian-driven entertainment

This was actress Arden Cho’s advice to a group of young Asian American students during her talk at the University of Pennsylvania. Hollywood will make Asian driven content, if there is a demand for it. The best example that I can think of is Selfie. Selfie was an American rom-com sitcom based loosely on My Fair Lady. It starred John Cho and Karen Gillan, and aired from August 2014 only to be cancelled in November 2014. It is the only time, in my recent memory that I have seen an Asian man play the romantic lead on an American television show (or movie for that matter). And whilst the show was imperfect, it could’ve been saved and it could’ve been written better (though arguably, Karen Gillan was not great in this piece; I’ll let you judge for yourself). This show was groundbreaking, and if it had done well, could have been a remarkable step for Asian American entertainment. But the larger population of sitcom audiences couldn’t stomach it. There was no demand for an Asian man to play the romantic lead, and yet as I’ve talked to friends about the show since its cancellation, the response I most often hear is, “wait, I would’ve watched that. John Cho is hot.” And whilst, yes, I wouldn’t condone watching a show simply because you think its lead actor is hot, the main idea stays the same. There is a demand to see #StarringJohnCho be a reality, with him at the forefront playing the romantic lead, and the same goes for many other actors. Selfie could have been saved, if people demanded it. And if we seek out entertainment driven by Asians, starring Asians, more of it will come.

3 // Do not give into perpetuation of stereotypes/archetypes

“Early in my career, I did a fake-ass Chinese accent for a series of T-Mobile commercials in 2003. At the time, I thought, ‘Hey, if I don’t do it, someone else will.’ I immediately regretted the decision once I started shooting the spot.” Justin Chon wrote this of his experience as an Asian American in Hollywood. Ultimately, there is an appetite for ‘fake-ass’ Asian stereotypes. What’s dangerous is when they become less about comedy and more of the reality that we portray onto Asian people as a whole. Ken Jeong in The Hangover, fine. You know that it’s fake. To some degree, you know that it can’t be real, it has to be for comedy. And yes, that does make it okay (though there is a line to be drawn). This is the problem that many had with Fresh off the Boat, when it first aired on television. They thought it promoted stereotypes of what Asian people were, though the larger problem many Asian people had with the show was not the “stereotypic” aspects of it, but that it didn’t portray their story. In my head I often delegate Asian American representation as pre-Fresh of the Boat and post-Fresh of the Boat. Because at least now we have an Asian family on television. And yes, it’s not your story and it’s not the thing you wished it was, but in some ways, it couldn’t be. For a young white person, their story can be told through countless characters across countless television shows across countless networks. We had one show. And it’s not perfect, but it doesn’t promote Asian-ness to be bad or un-American, and it’s still funny. It’s not about the nerdy Asian kid who sits in his basement or the one who studies all the time. It allows for a different narrative, and as we push more and demand more from Hollywood, more of our stories will be told.

4 // Encourage race-conscious casting

Lately, it’s become more and more popular to hear people say: “I don’t see color. I don’t see race.” That’s bullshit. Being able to be color blind is privilege in and of itself. People of color wear their nationalities, their races on their face; it influences the most basic first impressions likely even before that person utters their first word. Race-blind casting is a product of this. Race-blind casting also allows casting directors to cast an all-white production of Lin Manuel Miranda’s In the Heights and a white Martin Luther King Jr. (Mountaintop, 2015). Whilst it sounds good, casting simply on talent rather than on race it does not work out in practice, because the large majority of actors in the West are white. There is no reason to cast a person of color, when you can only see white actors. Race-conscious casting is similar to Hamilton, understanding that race plays a role in the story, even if not outright. Hamilton on Broadway employs a cast of nearly all people of color, to portray America’s population as it is today, rather than as it was during the time of the Founding Fathers. Race matters. And representation matters.

With the return of Miss Saigon to Broadway imminent, Kevin was picking my brain on a article that the New York Times put out entitled “The Battle of ‘Miss Saigon’: Yellowface, Art and Opportunity.” I’ll admit that I’m not so bothered by (most of) the plot, being that it is largely historically accurate, but by a quote from Frank Rich, former chief theatre critic at the New York Times, “I’m completely sympathetic, and argue further that Asian-American actors have a particularly raw deal — there are so few opportunities for them compared to other minorities, let alone majorities. But I still feel a director has the right to do what he wants to do.” This was in regards to the casting of white British actor Jonathan Pryce as the Engineer, and wearing prosthetics to alter the shape of his eyes and makeup to change the color of his skin. Many defended the casting by saying, well it’s similar to The Phantom of the Opera, but let’s be honest, it really isn’t. The Phantom of the Opera has no defined race, the Engineer is a Vietnamese character, you see the problem? Mind you, the casting has changed significantly and since then only Asian actors have played the role in major productions, however, directors have a duty to preserve the historical and cultural significance of their show. But this persevering view that it isn’t the job of a show to be culturally accurate and respectful is simply embarrassing, humiliating, and wrong.

5 // Don’t accept second best

Recently, former 2NE1 leader CL was featured on the cover of Elle Magazine with the tag line “Is America Ready for the ‘Asian Nicki Minaj’?” Likewise, Ailee has been dubbed the Korean Beyonce. And whilst all these artists are talented in their own right, CL and Ailee are not Korea’s response to these artists; they are musicians and rappers with integrity and talent that should be celebrated. And yet, Asian people, especially celebrated Asian people who manage to break the Western market, are not their own person, but rather the “Asian version of…” Celebrate talented artists for who they are, with their integrity intact. Artists like CL and Dean are killing it in the Western market because they are talented and because there are producers who are beginning to see and understand the demand for talented Asian artists. However, branding as the “Asian version of…” only seeks to put unnecessary pressure that these artists must somehow make new an artist who is already talented, already successful, and already has a large fan base. A new artist, despite being famous in another country, despite already having a successful career, will never manage to break into entertainment with those expectations and limitations on their shoulder. It simply is not possible. Allow Asian artists to be themselves, be celebrated for their identity. Treat them with the same respect we allow their peers.

6 // Don’t agree to disagree

I have an ex-friend who would always say to me, “wow, that’s so American” or “wow, you’re so American.” Let’s get one thing straight: I was born in America. My parents both grew up in America. I have never been to Asia. I am American born and raised. Her comment always irked me a little, but I never pushed it, until I did. I asked her, “what do you mean by ‘American.’” And she said, “you know, like white people.” Asian-ness and American-ness are not mutually exclusive. White-ness and American-ness are not the same. I responded, “I am American.” And she said, “you know what I mean.” I wanted to fight her, I did. But I knew what she meant, so despite disagreeing, I kept quiet. And it continues to eat at me. I should have said, “why do you associate white people with being American?” I should have said, “what do you think makes something American?” Having that conversation perhaps would not have changed her mind, but it would have at least given her a more well-rounded perspective. There is no one version of American-ness or one version of Asian-ness or white-ness. The perpetuation of those ideas as singular is why we end up with stereotypes, one-dimensional copies of the same Asian characters over and over again: the geisha, the nerdy kid, the goth girl, or the spy. We are more than that, and the only way to change those perspectives, is to disagree.

7 // Have conversations

It seems trivial, doesn’t it? Of course, you should have conversations about it, but truthfully many of us do not. It is often only with people who I know think similarly to me that I would have these conversations, and whilst those rile me up, make me angry to my core, they don’t change anything. Having meaningful conversations with people about Asian representation in media means being informed, listening to what they have to say, and then presenting your opinion. Nothing will change if we don’t talk about it. Lucky for us, the current generation of young Asian American millennials is slowly starting to grow louder and louder, demanding change and reform. It’s happening slowly, but it is happening, and we can use all the help we can get. Recommend an Asian-driven or Asian-written show to your friend, talk to them about why you think this is important, tell them how hot John Cho is. Only then, will we be able to seek real change. Only then will we see a shift in Asian representation.

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How can you get involved? Start by seeking out some Asian-American media online: (nowhere near comprehensive)

YouTube

• Ryan Higa (nigahiga)
• Wong Fu Productions
• Fung Bros
• Jubilee Project

Television

• Selfie
• Fresh off the Boat
• All American Girl
• Doctor Ken
• Master of None
• Hawaii 5-0

Film

• Joy Luck Club
• The Namesake
• Crazy Rich Asians (not yet released)
• In Between Days

PS: more from kat: breaking up with social media, dorm tour