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.

Strong Enough To Be Vulnerable. Vulnerable Enough to Become Strong.

( Courageous "me too" responses to my first post have inspired me to dig further into what I'm seeing as a collective phobia of vulnerability. This post has been re-written, thanks to provoking insights from my Mum & a valued friend "Ari")

"Vulnerability is not weakness. And that myth is profoundly  dangerous" (Brown, Listening to Shame). For most of my life, I too believed and perpetuated this myth. For most of my life, I too suffered from this myth.

A young child in China learns that crying exacerbates her aunt's punishments - b/c atop the physical sting of the slaps is the psychological sting of the resulting taunts ("You crying? What will that do? Go ahead").

A middle-schooler learns that saying "We're growing apart, and I want us close again" doesn't stop one from being labeled "needy" & dumped by one's best friend via locker note.

A higher schooler learns that showing emotional distress earns you dismissal as a "drama queen/crazy" girl and beatings as a "gay/pussy" boy.

A Cal freshman learns that daring to consider a lighter/realistic course load welcomes the condescension of peers in an environment that can confuse your worth with your assumed academic prowess.

A co-op inhabitant learns that filing a rape charge against her housemate induces community onslaught and censure that becomes another form of violation ("Why were you drunk? Why did you dress like that?") (1 in 4).

Our struggles may be different in outer form, but often, at the heart of them lies a shared sense of shame - the fear that if we admit our struggles and allow ourselves to be seen, we will be judged and rejected. B/c all of us can recall moments when we admitted struggle, allowed ourselves to be seen, and were  judged and rejected. These moments can be insidiously lasting, whether we realize it or not, and fuel hostile inner voices that shame us into silence and secrecy:

"You're the only one struggling like this. You're the only one who can't handle life. If you show others how weak you are, they'll want nothing to do with you. People respond to power, and power means always being in control. Learn to numb and pretend. You'll be more effective & desirable"

And so we arm ourselves with learned indifference because we expect others to withdraw, to dismiss, to deceive, to judge, to reject. We internalize society's myth that vulnerability is weakness, that we will be rejected for it, and that our lives are better without it.

So how do we live? We withdraw, we dismiss, we deceive, we judge, we reject. Clearly, something is not aligned.

But here's a secret that our "shaming inner voices" are terrified we'll uncover: when we are truthful with ourselves and others without ego (without the intention to silence/hurt/convince/control/validate), most people do not react with rejection. Most people react with appreciation, honesty, connection, respect - the very things we yearn for. Those who react with dismissal or hostility are exhibiting unhealthy reactive tendencies that reflect more upon their relationship with themselves than us. (*Caveat: We have all reacted in empathic and non-empathic ways, during healthier and unhealthier parts of our lives.)

I've seen vulnerability, from parents, friends, professors, sr colleagues, vagina warriors, martial arts instructors, student volunteers, performers, activists, acquaintances, and it looks nothing like weakness. It looks like:

• A best friend admitting, "You once intimidated me, and I was self-conscious being myself around you. Now I'm happy being myself around you"
• A parent admitting, "I'm sorry I keep judging you by the past. It's hard for me to let go of it"
• A professor admitting, "I joke to my students that the world is going to hell, but I care and worry about them. Am I making a difference?"
• A stage performer admitting, "Everyone is here to cheer me on. But I wish my dad were here"
• A student volunteer admitting, "The ang-moh tourists think we don't like them b/c they are white. We don't like them b/c they dismiss us [as Asians, as youth], and it hurts"
• An emerging activist admitting, "Sometimes I hesitate, for fear of becoming that guy who is always ranting about that one thing. Or always ranting about something"
• A martial arts instructor admitting, "I learned to fight when they learned to beat"
• An acquaintance admitting, "She didn't say 'no', but she didn't say 'yes'. I am so ashamed that I didn't realize it. I raped my ex, even though every time I said 'I love you', I meant it"
• A vagina warrior admitting, "When I share my story of being raped, it's not that I'm scared to re-live it. I'm scared that you will define me by it"

This is the vulnerability that I've witnessed. This is the vulnerability that I, and so many others, have been surprised by, disarmed by, impressed by, inspired by, and changed by.

We need to demystify the "vulnerability is weakness" myth by challenging society's definition of what is "vulnerable", as well as understanding the sources of our own "shaming inner voices". B/c the ability to be raw with oneself/others, without intention to silence/hurt/convince/control/validate, demonstrates tremendous inner strength and resilience. And for those of us lucky enough to witness, it creates some of the most compelling, connected, and perspective-shaping memories we hold.

Too Shamed to Share

"Shame...we all have it... And the less you talk about it, the more you have it" (Brene Brown)

One of my closest friends ("MT") & I discussed how sharing our struggles/reaching out to others for support is a nascent personal phenomenon for both of us. The rest of the world seems to do it all the time (sometimes a bit too much), but we had work to develop this after painstaking self-reflection, psychosocial introspection, and spiritual questing.

When MT asked what underlay my reserve to outreach during struggle, I was initially dismissive. Wasn't overly eager to plunge down that bunny-pit. But I was caught off-guard when MT suddenly revealed her reasons for her own reserve. It was honesty without defense. It was courage/vulnerability (synonymous, yes?), and it inspired me to plunge into the source of my own reserve - shame.

Growing up, I wasn't one to share my struggles with others. My thought process was this: nobody owes anyone else emotional investment. Emotional investment can be burdensome. I don't have a right to further burden others when they already endure their own. Up until recently, I relished in this "altruistic" habit. But I now realize I was only in denial - that the real source of my reserve was largely fueled my early internalization of 2 messages in childhood (*Caveat: note that the following was caused by the misinterpretations of my conditioned mind (the "ego") more so than other people's actions/intent).

Message #1: "You are not living up to your potential": first, you need to understand that my mother is incredibly  progressive. She never cared for social pressures, and though she was deeply loyal to filial ones, she never imposed filial obligation on me. She didn't believe in living through one's child and wanted nothing more for me than autonomy and competence. She showed by example what it was like to be an ultra-productive/conscious human being. She had a strong will to improve me starting from a young age, and they were all areas that I genuinely needed improvement. However, rather than interpreting her lessons as "I'm very worthy on my own. I have lots of room to grow and become even better", I internalized it as "I'm a wasteland of potential. The 'ideal me' is the real me that I was meant to be, but I always fall short." (This is how the ego works. It distorts even the most earnest and helpful efforts through its lens of insecurity.)

Message #2: "There is something fundamentally wrong with the way you are wired": My mother was wired to help others - for most of her life, that was the driving motivation. She gave generously to those who never gave back and returned 10X to those who did. My disposition was opposite. I was wary of being taken advantage of (after witnessing others take one-sidedly from her) and withheld generosity except for those I thought truly 'deserved' it. This caused a lot of tension, particularly as it related to our relatives. She was distraught that I was detached from relatives who reared me during early childhood. I was frustrated that my mother accepted continual emotional abuse from greedy and controlling people with whom we happened to share DNA. I didn't give in, and I believed my rationale to be sound. But unknowingly, I internalized one implication of our conflict: "Those who have hearts appreciate others' sacrifices. The fact that you can feel so little for those who have sacrificed for you, even if you didn't ask for the sacrifice, means there is something fundamentally wrong with you." (Again, this is how the ego works. It mistakes a learned way of thinking for a fundamental facet of your Being.)

Mix messages #1 + #2, allow them to stew in a societal pressure cooker next to a hearty roast of fear-of-unworthiness, drizzle this with insecurity, and season with validation-seeking, and voila, you create a dish of shame:

#1: I'm not worthy of others' emotional investment or help b/c I am not worthy in general. Not until I reach and live my potential. My successes are more attributed to luck than ability, b/c real ability stems from fulfilling one's potential.

#2: I'm not worthy of others' emotional investment or help b/c what if I turn on them one day? If I find I don't like them in their current/future state, I may ignore their past help & detach b/c that's just who I am. It is difficult to prevent this w/ those who gave unsolicited help, but what I can do is protect the rest by never involving them in the first place.

You can see how the ego shames us into hesitating, withdrawing, closing. Shame dictates so much of what we pursue and just as importantly, what we don't. One doesn't get rid of shame - one becomes resilient to it. Shame needs secrecy, silence, and judgment to grow, but if you douse it with empathy, it can't survive - "the two most powerful words when we're in struggle [are] 'me too'" (B. Brown). I'm learning to become more shame-resilient b/c some incredible people have shown me their "me too" side. So I guess this is my way of paying it forward.