Hey! China, mi reina, psssst chinita!

So this past fall semester, especially towards the end, I was reminded how much winter sucks. I mean, it's pretty for a minute and then you get cold and your socks get soaking wet and then freeze etc., etc. Hence I ran away to Ecuador for study abroad. I figured, "Ecuador" being on the "equator" it would be warmer and sunny all the time and that I would be able to avoid getting SAD (ya know, seasonal affective disorder where you get all depressed cuz there's no sun). Also, I didn't know much of anything about Ecuador except that it is part of the Andean Community and like other members of that community has a strong indigenous presence. Ecuador, unlike say Chile or Argentina, boasts of its pluriethnic, multicultural society that to me was much more appealing than Spain and the other programs available in South America. After becoming much more active in the A/PIA community during the fall semester, I thought that studying abroad in a country that seemed so different but with such a supposed pluriethnic society would be a great opportunity.

And believe me, Ecuador is a beautiful country. Its Andes are perhaps a bit smaller and less jagged, the weather conditions less extreme and landscapes less stark than its neighbors to the south (Peru, and Bolivia) but they are no less dramatic. Not to sound like a tourist guide book, but it's true when they say that Ecuador has a little bit of everything, with so much of the natural beauty of the world in such a small country. Yet along with the beautiful views of terraced mountainsides comes with the realities of the economic conditions that come with a country developing at many different levels.

The construction of race in Ecuador historically and today has been mostly that of white (Spanish and other European immigrants) mestizo (of mixed white and indigenous heritage) and the indígenas or indigenous groups. The strong indigenous presence in Ecuador is a credit to their 500 year long struggle in the face of rampant racism both personal and institutional. The economic implications of this discrimination are obvious, but they affect non-indigenous racial minority groups even more. For example, Afro-ecuatorianos are very obviously discriminated against both in terms of the negative stereotypes that exist, but also how those stereotypes have shaped the kinds of economic opportunities available. (As in, there really aren't many, mostly domestic service. And unlike in the United States there isn't any kind of middle or upper class Afro-ecuadorian population to be in a position to denounce the stereotypes that exist.) Not only this, but their population is so small in comparison to other countries that had a far greater slave-economy that even to see an Afro-ecuadorian walking around is a rarity.

Needless to say, sighting a Japanese-American college-aged girl was even less common, and sparked reactions inversely proportional to how often this event occurred. And by that I mean, I got cat-called every freakin time I stepped out the door.

To be fair, I knew that there isn't a significant Asian population in Ecuador. And especially in comparison to Peru, Brazil and other countries in Latin America, the influence that that miniscule population has had both historically and today is limited at best. So perhaps I should have been better prepared and had a strategy with how I would deal with it. But I didn't, and every time I heard a comment, or my host sister’s attempt at an explanation, “oh no, you see, it’s okay because they call all Asians ‘china’ [Chinese person] here” doesn't really cut it and it was hard for me to accept with no further argument. Ignorance is never an excuse, and can never justify offensively racial or racist remarks. (Especially when the person affected says something about it.)

My host mother would play a game whenever she had guests over in the afternoon when I came home from the university. She would call me over to the kitchen table and sit me down and present me to her friend and say, “Qué crees que ella es? Nunca podrás decirme.” [“What do you think she is? You’ll never be able to guess!”] and inevitably the guest will guess Chinese and Mayu (my host mother) would kind of smile in a self-satisfied way as if my racial ambiguity was some clever trick she devised. Whenever my host mom would make comments like that, or, “Tú pareces una ‘geisha’ casi exactamente!” [“you look exactly like a geisha…] I couldn’t help but say something and express my discomfort. At the point where we stop voicing our opinions, where we stop questioning the rationale behind certain things is the point where such things become incorporated into our societies.

My program was primarily white, but had a few other exceptions besides me. Yet of these, I was the only East Asian American and in demographic situations like these, when some guy behind you is shouting, "Hey!! Chinita!" you know exactly who he's referring to. It was hard to address this issue, not just with my own personal misgivings with how to approach the incredibly different cultural traditions in Ecuador (namely, the widespread belief in racial stereotypes and the invisibility of non-indigenous racial minorities)but also because of pressures I felt from my friends. Several times over the course of the semester, some of the other students in my program would say something if I corrected a guy who just called me 'little Chinese girl.' They'd be like, "wow you get so annoyed!"

As if I didn't have a right to be annoyed?

I don’t really think there is a fine line with a grey area between right and wrong in situations like this. Am I being oversensitive? If someone hears a comment that is directed towards them or not and is offended then the comment is offensive. How a comment is judged is subjective to the listener and they ultimately have the opinion that matters most. Intention is important given certain contexts, if the comment refers to something the listener has control over intention plays a bigger role. But in the case of race, if the person at whom it is directed deems a comment racist, intention matters little.

So, unfortunately I was unable to talk to everyone in Ecuador and I'm sure that the few people I did talk to will probably still call every Asian traveler in Ecuador a Chinese person. Be that as it may, I have no regrets with how I tried to handle those situations in Ecuador. As I mentioned before and that I cannot stress enough, ignorance is never an excuse for racial discrimination and racist remarks. Ignorance isn't an indicator of a primitive culture, nor is it inextricably tied to cultural practices that can never be eliminated. It is instead a marker of how much work and organizing is left to be done.

These, among many other experiences I had in Ecuador, have reminded me why it's so important to be involved in community organizing and outreach. Why it's so important to remember the history of various racial struggles in the United States and all over and try to bring that knowledge to others. The lessons I learned have renewed in me my want to see racism ended, and upon reflection of my semester, it was refreshing to have experienced it all. I know that for the upcoming year, in whatever capacity I can, I'll be striving towards making real changes on campus and hopefully in the community and on a greater scale. And I hope anyone who reads this (or really just everyone in general) will do the same. I know it seems so improbable that the actions of one can really make a difference, and I know it seems trite to say but all we need is to just keep going one person at a time and at some point we'll reach that critical mass necessary to make lasting change.



~Laura

Dreams and Identity

Let me preface this entry by paraphrasing Frank Wu: we're all social scientists - it's just that most of us are really bad at it. And that's the problem.

The DREAM Act (Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors), for those of you unfamiliar with it, is a proposed federal bill that would give the children of undocumented immigrants the chance to gain legal status if they graduated from high school and sought to attend college or serve in the military. There are several technical details, such as what qualifies as attending college or the number of years of military service - this page lays out those details.

How does this affect APIAs? According to the Department of Homeland Security, an estimated 9% of unauthorized immigrants in 2006 were born in Asia - Vietnam, China, Korea, India, and the Philippines. In absolute numbers, this comes out to about 1.1 million people. A study by the Pew Hispanic Center found that most illegal immigrant families have children born in the US. I will note that this is a generalization, and a distributional figure - what percentage of families in different immigrant populations has US-born children - should qualify the PHC's findings.

It often seems that discussion about APIA issues revolves around broad societal and cultural trends - model minority, perpetual foreigner, representation in the media. That's why I decided to turn around and look at specific legislation affecting APIAs. Although the DREAM Act affects APIAs less than other groups by proportion, 1.1 million people are far too many to neglect.

In reading arguments against the DREAM Act's passing, I've found a streak of nativism. "Unfair", "cutting in line" and "our parents were legally here first" crop up in discussion like hundreds of angry weeds. Make no mistake, the bill's opponents most likely do feel that it is genuinely unfair. To quote Frank Wu again, it does no one any good to claim that others have no principles. But there's more to the opposition than just vitriol and a different definition of fairness. There's something deeper in the bitterness permeating this bill's existence, and that's the question of what it means to be not an American with citizenship, but rather an American.

It's easy to conflate the two. I would argue that someone born in the US, someone raised in the US, someone who has learned and socialized and achieved in the US is an American. I would argue that citizenship is artificial, except that it provides very real social benefits. Should someone who has spent their youth in the US have opportunity wrenched away simply because their parents came here illegally? Are they no longer Americans simply because their parents don't have legal citizen status? It's a matter of identity and claims to identity, among other things.

These questions are entangled in other issues, as well. Reform of immigration law has become an issue in the upcoming election. An inefficient and slow immigration process contributes to the rates of illegal immigration. But it would take far more time and text space than one blog entry to cover all the facets of immigration and the DREAM Act, because this is a complex issue with no small amount of passion and no small number of stakeholders on either side.

Currently, the DREAM Act is in legislative limbo. The official page in the Library of Congress can be found here.

arthur