Sick of "Yellow Fever"?

(Trailer)

This past weekend, I attended an event for the CAAM festival (Center for Asian America Media). One film that simultaneously intrigued and vexed me even before I viewed it was Seeking Asian Female, a documentary by Debbie Lum that centers on a 50+ white man's obsession with finding a younger Asian (in his case, Chinese) female partner. After daily email exchanges with hundreds of Chinese women, along with an eerily voluminous collection of pictures, letters, and "Sunshine Magazines", he eventually proposes to one of his Chinese pen-pals - the story unfolds as they navigate the harsh realities of marriage given the communication barrier, cultural differences, and financial hardships.

Now, I will not proceed to provide a review of the film - what I am more interested in is joining in the conversation around the cultural phenomenon at the heart of the film: "yellow fever".

"Yellow fever" is a term commonly used when a non-Asian (especially white) heterosexual male pursues Asian female romantic partners at the near or complete exclusion of other ethnicities. I first heard this term in university and quickly realized that this was a debated topic among my fellow Asians peers: some reacted with full (even prideful) approval while others with scornful repulsion.

During the viewing of this film, the constitution of the SF audience was more of the latter camp, as evidenced by the vociferous "auuuughs" and scoffs in the room as we were introduced to the white male protagonist. I myself was one of them. As the film unraveled, though, I found myself thinking about this issue differently. It didn't flip my perspective, but it did help me realize that there was a continuum of different types of "yellow fever" (or any "fever" in which one expresses strong preference for one group over all others).

On one side of the continuum lies natural physical preferences - e.g., one tends to be more attracted to Koreans just as one tends to be more attracted to those with short hair or freckles or Joseph Gordon Levitt. While I understand that the media and surrounding community can greatly influence what is considered "mainstream attractive", I do believe we can be born with attraction preferences, very specific or broad depending on individual. To me, admitting "I tend to be more attracted to X ethnicity" is not harmfully discriminating. Most people choose a select few as intimate partners - in order to selectively commit, by default, they must have filtered out countless other individuals as "not as preferable".

Now, if "yellow fever" were just one example of cross-ethnicity physical attraction, I would laud it. However, the issue I take with it - why, so many of us cringed as white men discussed their preferences for Asian women in the documentary - is that too often, they explicitly or implicitly emphasize, "[Asian women] are so undemanding and submissive...they  make great wives because they'll cook and clean and take care of their husbands". Here, the issue grows beyond the realm of pure aesthetic appreciation - here, the issue enters the realm of gender constructs, Orientalism, and power disparity.

When I hear the above message, whirlwind flashbacks of Gender & Women's Studies class debates, personal encounters with sexism and racism, and the countless narratives of abuse and domestic violence circulate through my mind. Admittedly, they have a habit of culminating into a Krav Maga-friendly impetus "kick 'em in the groin!"

I can't speak for all Asian females, but I venture to assume to at least some share my antagonism towards this particular type of "yellow fever" - the type that reflects and perpetuates insidious social constructs. Here is just the tip of the iceberg:

• a) A woman's desirability correlates positively to her submission to a male partner (note that this assumes she even wants a partner, let alone a male one) and inversely to her independence and agency

• b) Asians as a group are "submissive". Women are seen as eager to please (this puzzles me - have they never seen the ruthlessness of an auntie at the market?). Meanwhile, men are de-masculinized and/or invisible in mainstream culture (many have difficultly naming an Asian male celebrity besides Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and "that guy from Crouching Tiger")

• c) Put a) and b) together, and you construct the "relationship" that so many of these feverish men idealize - one in which they hold the power to choose for both parties, while their "partners" are stripped of their human status

I put "relationship"above in quotes, because a real connection between two adults mandate that each respects the other fully as a fellow Being, with inviolable rights of physical and mental autonomy. Thus, when a man desires Asian women b/c he believes they will be more likely to submit to him, he does not actually love Asian women - in fact, he does not love women, period, because he clearly does not respect them. Women become objects of his objectification, not true affection. Connection cannot exist when it is founded on the condition that one continuously submits to another's will.

I do support one end of the "yellow fever" continuum - I support the cases that purely reflect the broader notion that we can and do prefer certain physical characteristics over others when choosing partners. What I don't support, however, is "submissive yellow fever" (admittedly, not as catchy of a label), which has little to do with Asians as individuals and all to do with the corrupt desire to connect with others on the hope that they will surrender their self-worths to mitigate one's own lack of worth.

That's the type of "yellow fever" that, well, makes me quite sick.


There are multiple layers of issues within this topic that deserve to be deconstructed further, such as older men/younger women, Asians as "model minority", Orientalism, etc. Even the phrase "yellow fever" itself lends to questions of what it easily includes (heterosexual) and excludes (queer) and why.

Shortest Distance Between Two People

Some positive psychology studies conclude that writing down funny moments daily in a journal helps promote long-term well-being and decreases risk for depression. I haven't developed a daily habit yet, but I do keep a list of hearty laughs from my vacations.

This past week, I visited one of my best friends cross country. One unique aspect of our friendship is the plethora of endearingly awkward/funny moments - attributed to the fact that we have notably different living, thinking, and speaking "cadences". 

In honor of this trip, I have recorded examples of such moments:

• Our reunion moment: right as my butt touches the passenger car seat, she yells "HUUUG!" I stare blankly for a moment and go in for a hug (delayed reaction), right as she blocks me with one hand and says "...OR maybe high-five...?"
• She plans a lot in advance when people visit, so when I finally arrive, she says "I'm tired. I feel like I've already been hanging out with you for the past 2 months"
• Seafood stew arrives at our table - simultaneous reactions: Her: "Ahhh...perfect size" ; Me: "Ahhh...such small portions"
• We have dichotomous water-intake habits, so by the end of our first full day together - simultaneous reactions: Her: "Gah...I've never had so much water" ; Me: "Gah...I feel dehydrated"
• In high school, I played a lot of competitive golf. B/c I couldn't eat a big meal and golf well, I learned to operate for most of the day a little hungry. Thus, when I'm with friends, I don't mind continuing our activities without much to eat. So on this trip, when people asked if I was hungry, she would respond, "Oh, she doesn't really get hungry. She is trained in not eating
• When I try to be too PC, I become a very ineffective communicator. This was the case when we had tea with her meditation teacher. I would ask a long-winded question. The teacher would look confused but try to respond. My friend would "translate" the question more concisely, and the teacher would say, "Mmmm, great question"
•  We both rejuvenate through alone time, so on the ride to airport for my return flight, rather than gush "I'll miss yous", we gush: "I'm really looking forward to being by myself" ; "OMG, I feel the same way"

Our friendship reminds me that two people can live and interact very differently and sometimes completely "miss" each others' rhythms. But rather than stunt connection, these moments connect us more deeply through laughter. And laughter, after all, is the shortest distance between two people.

As I Learn to Dance, I Learn to Live

This year, in spirit of increasing time for activities that stimulate me physically and/or mentally, I've incorporated hip hop dance into my weekly routine.

I have no past training or claim to special talent.  Thus, when I entered my first dance studio, I was intimidated by the soft spotlight lobby lighting, the wall stills of taut bodies in motions, and especially, the off-the-shoulder shirt/neon-shoe donning dancers.

But sometimes I get lucky at finding the right thing the first time. And when I stepped into my first class, I realized this was one of those times.

This dance class is taught by one hell of a teacher. She has an uncanny ability to incorporate all types of movements (robotic, fluid, grunge) and make them accessible to dancers of all levels and builds. She is confident yet self-deprecating. She is professional yet democratic with her (appropriately) flirty energy.

But perhaps the most amazing thing is her ability to create a rare gem of a dance community: where people bring their eagerness, not their egos; where people cheer for those next to them, rather than compare; where people smile when they "get" the choreography and giggle when they miss steps.

After a couple months of consistent classes, I've come to notice the parallels between the tenets of dance class and those of life:

1) Harness your mind, but don't live in it:
When you learn choreography, there is a line between using your mind to process your reality vs distract you from it. Our minds have long been trained to translate visual & verbal cues into motor commands (remember first time tying shoelaces, climbing stairs, using chopsticks?). However, when we sense a time limit and are wary of others watching/judging, our minds tend to concoct unnecessary distractions. These often come from a familiar inner voice that taunts, "you can't do this" or "bet you'll mess up".  It triggers our insecurities at the most (in)opportune moments and initiate cycles of self-fulfilling prophecies (distracting us with the anxiety of making mistakes so that we end up making more mistakes). It critiques us for sub-optimal performance but is responsible for creating the internal conditions that discourage optimal performance.

In dance and in life, it is crucial that we learn to dis-identify from this inner voice. One of the most life-changing lessons I learned was that this voice is not me - it is a byproduct of years of internalizing unhealthy social conditionings. The real me is the part that is aware of this voice.

You see, we need not be controlled by these reactive internal voices. We can decide for ourselves - if we practice observing and questioning, we find that these internal messages are rooted not in fact, but in insecurity and mental myopia. Many times, our greatest inhibitors are not our physical builds or learning aptitudes, but rather, anxiety and de-motivation induced by our conditioned inner bullies. While they may continue to resurface and taunt us, if we practice remaining detached, we can re-fuel the drive and passion to "get the choreography". 
 

2) 95% is practice, and "practice" is the test of genuine passion:
Most dancers will agree that every hour of performance requires manifold more hours of practice. Even glorious stages are transient cogs in careers surfeit with sweat, litany, doubt, disappointment, compromise, and more sweat - hardly glorious. Even on a small scale, we practice for over an hour in our dance class to "perform" in groups for several minutes at the end. Being able to find joy, inspiration, and flow during the "process" is critical to long-term motivation and resilience.

Without intrinsic reward, one's well-being depends on extrinsic rewards, which are highly precarious and "never enough" - how you measure against peers, how much praise or critique you're privy to, which institutions grant you access, which renowned names accept you. E.g., if hours of practice could be destabilized by meeting a dancer more skilled than you, how miserable all dancers would be! There would be few constructive relationships, schadenfreude when one others fail, withholding of information and mentoring, and little space for collaborative innovation. Even for those ranked #1, status at the top is short-lived, and there will always be sharp critics. Dependence on external validation creates unstable self-worth and a lifetime of comparing, coveting, judging, belittling, blaming, resenting.

Finally, even if one "makes it big", the initial high from gaining recognition/resources wears off, and what one really gains is a lot more dance - more practice, more process. When we pursue things for the "stage" rather than the process, we forget that success does result in more "stage" but also, tenfold more process. While we can be good, we won't be our best, because the intelligence of the world supports us most when we are driven by raw passion rather than status/validation/resources. Energy allocated to politics or relative comparisons, etc., takes away that needed for innovation, absorption, and adaptation. I can vouch that in every dance class in which I "performed" with the greatest confidence and accuracy were those in which I was too busy learning, making mistakes, having fun, and re-learning to think about the performance. And in retrospect, the same could be said of my life experiences.


3) Celebrate others' flavors but dance to your own:
There are some very skilled dancers in my classes. One in particular, "Lily", moves with such controlled fluidity and precision, it's hard to refrain from wishing, "if only I could move like her". I recently noticed that when I am in the one class we share together, I don't get "in the zone". Why? Maybe I'm not as compatible with that instructor's style. Maybe I tend to be tired on that day of the week. Or maybe, I self-sabotage through my fixation of wanting but failing to dance like Lily. When I become preoccupied with emulating someone else's flavor, it inevitably results in lower engagement, unnatural timing and missed steps.

Luckily, last week, I was reminded of an invaluable lesson. Near the end of class, one of the dancers beside Lily caught my eye. He and she have dichotomous physical builds - they both moved well but moved very differently. He moved in a way that fit his body, and there was such unabashed enthusiasm that his movements inspired awe and joy. And that's when I realized - he doesn't dance like her, but he moves beautifully; I will never dance like her, but I can learn to move beautifully in my own way. We pave the way for our best not by fixating on/imitating another's rhythm but by discovering/aligning with our own cadence. This might involve practices we observe in others, but the incorporation should be thoughtful and malleable, not automatic and intractable. The best dancers I've observed not only display trained skill but also unabashed self-respect and self-expression.


In sum, when we waste energy on bullying, validating, and comparing ourselves, we obstruct ourselves from learning, enjoying, and achieving. But if we learn to detach from our vicious inner voices, live for the process, and work from places of self-awareness/respect, we realize that we are not inadequate but "powerful beyond measure" (Marianne Williamson). Which means that we too can breathe life through limbs - we too can create revolution through movement.