|
| So tonight's random blog is about hip hop. Hip Hop isn't dead, but that's besides the point. Tonight I went to see an up and coming asian hip hop artist, one of new york's own. (Disclaimer: The "asian" is not meant as a qualifier to the term "hip hop artist". He is first and foremost a hip hop artist, who so happens to be asian. It informs his work, but it is not the sum of his work. you'll understand in a bit)
It's been a while since I've gone out to support my asian peepz doing their thing. If you knew me in college, you know I was big on that. As I sat in this safe, cozy and intimate setting watching this kid "rock the mic with his tight rhymes", i couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. why? Because even though i felt what this kid was saying deep in my soul, i could only support from the periphery. something was holding me back from giving back to this kid everything he was putting out there for us. I use the word safe to imply that this was an environment where I should not have felt worried about being judged. and yet, I held back. Inside i wanted to throw my hands up in the air, shout, and affirm his words. Perhaps it was because i was sitting, but all I did was nod my head to the beat and smile whenever his lyricism blew me away. And then the reason dawned on me as I heard one particular line, about how ppl turned their backs on him when he needed them, saying "you're just a chinese wannabe", p.s. he's not even chinese, sound like a familiar experience?
Anyway, how easily just two words could summarize the shame and exclusion I had somehow internalized. I grew up in a predominantly african american neighorhood, or maybe it was just that being in a school where the cool kids were all black, it was the culture that dominated my late childhood to tween years. Early in my life, I had already developed a strong sense of being an other. But I was proud of my other, of being asian. But I came to realize that being viewed as asian excluded me from other worlds. The term "chinese wannabe" cuts straight to the bone, and makes you realize in just two words, that no matter how hard you worked to gain legitimacy, it can be reduced to nothing simply with the implication that you somehow are less legit or lack the street cred simply because of your race. No matter how much you think they're your boys or your girls, somehow it sets you apart and you're vulnerable because they may simply see you as just a wannabe. You'll never be "black" enough, as if there was some way to quantify that.
Now, that was never my problem. I never attempted to "be" black. But I had somehow internalized a shame, that whenever i attempted anything "black", it was considered an amusement, the shy chinese girl trying something that was so out of her element and looking the fool for it. But i put myself out there and looked the fool because hey, something in the culture and the music resonated in me. That's the great thing about hiphop, it doesn't matter whose mouth those words come out of, what matters is the words, and an awesome beat. But after a while, that laughter wears on ya. So you learn to appreciate things in private. It was ok for me to try to double dutch, even though i sucked at it,
but it was a joke when i tried to use the language that I heard around
me every day, or when i even casually mentioned that I got the hip hop
reference they had just made. Cuz why would a little asian girl listen
to hip hop? but come on, growing up, HOT 97 was what everyone listened
to. No wonder I felt uncomfortable letting down my guard and showing my pure appreciation of the music to this day. And i don't mean the top 40 hip hop crap that everyone listens to. This is not to say I'm incapable of it ever, this entry is just to sort of figure out why I feel uncomfortable, or somehow less legitimate sometimes. Other times, hell, you'll see me whooping and stomping and throwing up my hands at shows, or at least I had somehow learned to just let go back in college. Like I said, it's been a while.
Granted, even i realize i look and sound stupid saying certain things, notice the " "'s around some of the words i used earlier in the entry. but i also understand that's because I've become "whitified", which makes it even harder. It was obviously more acceptable for me to act white, than it was for me to act black. and so i learned to act white. Before you guys jump on me for generalizing and saying there's no such thing as acting white, please, you know what i mean. But you know what? i think if i felt totally comfortable in that setting, it wouldn't sound so stupid. but you can hear my hesitance in my voice, when i attempt to speak a slang that doesn't come naturally to me. Hey if i can dance to trance, if i can not feel stupid headbanging at a rock concert, or pretend to dance to bhangra, try to salsa, even attempt square dancing, why is it that i only feel ashamed and awkward doing things that are traditionally black?
Of course, things have changed. I recognize i probably wasn't the only person who was a secret hip hop fan back in the 90's, but now you don't have to be. Hiphop and other traditionally ethnically-defined creative outlets are more open. That's why I love supporting these Asian American acts. Not because they're asian, but because these kids were able to do what I couldn't -- somehow overcome the laughter, refuse to be pigeon-holed, surprise them all and demand a hard-earned credibility and legitimacy.
For that i give them mad respect.
I doubt I could ever have become a hip hop artist, its not in me, I'll just settle for rapping when karaoking, but I will support those kids who put themselves out there and break barriers and stereotypes every day by doing what they love, and showing the world that yes asian kids can rap, and they actually have something worthwhile to say and the skill to say it, knowing full well that they are at all times vulnerable to the put down of being just a "chinese wannabe". | | |
| Today, i found myself wanting to blog. i hadn't blogged in ages and yet there was this random urge. anyway, i haven't been on xanga in so long. good to see that its still alive. i think i prefer this to the facebook notes, and myspace is too mainstream and impersonal to appeal to me. xanga on the other hand, has the comfort of a long lost friend. it was there with me as I grew up, it was through xanga that I saw glimpses into my friends' or virtual strangers' deepest thoughts (and of course the requisite balance, their most superficial). It was great to be able to log on and see what my friends had been up to, even those I hadn't seen or talked to in a while, and it provided a good source of perspective when you saw that everyone struggled. Anyway, back to the point at hand. The reason why I had to urge to blog was because I was looking at my AIM buddy list. There are people on there from years and years ago, that for some reason or other I just lost touch with. Regardless, they remained on my list because I always intended to one day shoot them a message just to see how they were doing. For the most part, those whom I want to re-connect with, I do. even if its been a year, two, or five. But there's this one subset of "buddies" that I find difficult to just up and message randomly. Back in high school, when the internet craze was first starting to pick up speed, I would go online and just talk to random people. Remember those AOL chat rooms? But regardless of how cliche that was and regardless of the fact that I was only 16 talking to people (yes, predominantly guys) several years my senior, I met some great people online, but inevitably, with college and the ensuing years, we lost touch. Now i find myself staring at their screenname on my buddy list and wondering if i should try to re-connect. They will always hold a special place in my heart, because I can still recall the excitement, stress and wonder of what it was like to talk to a random person and to just connect. At the same time, I recently gave my friend some advice. Don't date someone just out of regret. The person that you remember so fondly, and the memories of your feelings for them? That's what you'd be trying to date. And this person now isn't the same person. And you can't expect those same feelings to be there for this person. You're setting yourself up for disappointment. Same goes for getting back with old exes. So is that what I'm doing with these people? I regret losing contact with them. We had a good thing going back then. But they're different people now. I'm a different person now. Perhaps it's better just to remember fondly that connection that we used to have. Perhaps I just miss the fearlessness I had when talking to random strangers and just putting myself out there and pouring my heart out to someone. It was connecting without risk. It was also like finding gold, finding the jewels among all the random ppl who would IM you "A/S/L?" So yea, I'm loath to part with that, thinking one day, I may just re-connect with these people and find out that hey, I was a pretty smart cookie back then to recognize that yea, this was a good person. Anyway, this has been a great year for me. Its been almost a year since I quit my job and decided to take time to myself to finish my masters. I'm finally walking this May. My first couple of years out of college were easy. Things came easily and I was given so many opportunities to live. To enjoy life, travel, splurge, party, meet some great new friends. I was truly blessed. And then when things became tough, I was once again blessed with good friends to count on, and to give me the perspective I needed. People for me to count on, when the pressure of being the one others counted upon became too much. And then to help me make the decision to step back and take time to re-prioritize, and to understand that things happen for a reason. I don't regret it one bit. I'm a more chill person than i was a year ago. Life is still full of drama, responsibilities still weigh heavy on my shoulders, and my schedule's still jam packed despite not having a "full time career", but at least its jam packed with things that I control, that are of my choosing. It's not overwhelming anymore. So, let's see how the next chapter of my resume goes as I go job searching in the coming months to figure out the rest of my life. P.S. Apparently 25 is the year for changes, and yep signs of the quarterlife crisis are in evidence everywhere I look. Everyone's changing jobs, going back to school, getting married, breaking up, moving out, changing states, countries, etc. Best of luck to everyone. | | |
| And a random entry titled - Something you didn't know.
When I was a child, I wanted to be a _______ when I grew up: (in no particular order)
1. Fashion Designer with my sister (after our attempts to design cutting edge clothes for Barbie dolls cuz we were too po' to buy any)
2. Scientist (after seeing butterflies metamorphose and seeing chicks hatch... then my science teacher told me I would have to be in school for a long long time and that didn't sound very fun)
3. Glass blower (some lab in high school... and prollie some show on tv)
4. Nature Photographer or nature magazine layout editor (cuz nature shows are awesome, i love photography and cuz you get to travel all over the world for free)
5. Journalist (to save the world)
6. Artist (any media)
7. Singer/Songwriter/Poet (as an outlet for my passions)
8. Advertising Concept person (i even interned at an ad agency - no joke)
9. Food critic (cuz i LOVE food)
10. Doctor
If only we did half the things we'd dreamt of doing, how much richer our lives would be.
| | |
| now for a bit of fluff: Your results:
You are Superman
| Superman |
|
80% |
| Wonder Woman |
|
70% |
| Green Lantern |
|
70% |
| Supergirl |
|
60% |
| Robin |
|
57% |
| Spider-Man |
|
55% |
| Catwoman |
|
55% |
| Batman |
|
40% |
| Iron Man |
|
40% |
| Hulk |
|
30% |
| The Flash |
|
25% | |
You are mild-mannered, good,
strong and you love to help others.
 | Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...
| | |
| Question: What was your best first date?
Answer: When a guy took me to a steak house and spent $250 on dinner. He ordered. He paid. Those were pluses. I called him on not consulting me before ordering, and he took it in stride. Confidence. Nice. Bonus points.
Thinking back, it was odd that that was the first answer that popped in my head. I guess it was representative of the tone my dating perspective had taken recently. Face it; girls judge guys on a point system. It’s a well known fact. The minutae of the scoring process may vary from girl to girl, and it tends to be so obscure that even the girl can’t exactly tell you what gets points and what doesn’t. But this in itself debases the idea of love. You can’t find love this way. And I didn’t find love based on how much he spent on dinner.
The real answer? The best first date, is usually, your first date, or after multiple dates, the first date with the guy you’ll eventually come to consider, the One (at least for the moment). The details don’t matter. If I could go back, I know what my answer would have been. My best date was my first date. In the way only young love could be. The nervousness in hindsight becomes endearing. The moments, unforgettable, because really you go into it not knowing what to expect, so then even the smallest things carry a sweet sense of surprise that is hard to achieve again. My first date was the first time I let a guy pay for me. We had to undergo the awkward exchange where I tried to pay, and all it was, was three dollars and some change for a cup of Dippin’ Dots. And then there was the shy but proud look on his face when I finally gave up trying to pay, and let him in his small way, do something for me. It wasn’t the amount of money he spent on me, or what he did, or how he acted; there was no right or wrong. With my current point system, he might have even failed. But, the best dates are the ones you just enjoy, without overanalyzing it.
I enjoyed the date at the steakhouse. I did, don’t get me wrong. But that relationship went bust. And now all I recall are those details that in the shadowy area of our emotions don’t really and shouldn’t really matter. Looking back, I should have known it wouldn’t work considering that I was judging it on such shallow criteria. But when the question was posed to me, at that point, I was so jaded by the world to think that those criteria did matter, and that that’s what made that date so extraordinary, such that this was the date that came to mind, and not the date I truly considered the best. This is how I know I’m not ready to date again. I’m still too jaded.
Someone told a friend recently that if the guy loves you, he’ll love you for all your faults. Immediately I quipped, “That’s such …” to which the person replied, “Bullshit? It’s not bullshit. It’s what I believe”. I covered, with “I was going to say that’s such a cliché”. But I found myself thinking, gee, it wasn’t that long ago that I believed that and would have fervently defended such a romantic ideal. And a small part of me still believes in it, but I find it harder and harder to believe enough to give it voice, except when comforting a girl friend, where basically it’s a requirement that we trot out those clichés. Instead, it’s easier for me to knock those silly naïve romantic beliefs in others. I could even say I am ashamed to still believe in the idea of romance in this day and age. Or maybe I’m just too much of a mess that I can no longer find a reason to believe in romance anymore.
Another friend recently complained about how much emotional baggage girls carry around. He put forth a fictional example of a girl who would refuse to eat the crispy skin on fried chicken because that was her last boyfriend’s favorite piece of the chicken to eat, and would pick the skin off all her fried chicken. Crazy? Neurotic even? Definitely humorous to imagine. But is it so far from the truth? Frankly, we all carry emotional baggage, especially girls. Is it so naïve to hope the guy who loves you, will love you not only in spite of the mess that you are, but because of the mess that you are?
In the past I found myself showing all the bad sides of me to guys upfront, because I didn’t want to lead them on. I wanted them to see me for who I was before we got together, to get everything out in the open. But really, I suppose, I was asking them to love me faults and all. Instead I just made it harder for them to love me, sabotaging it before it even got a chance to build a stronger foundation where that would be possible, perhaps because I couldn’t fathom them loving me once they’d seen all my faults and would rather be disappointed before anything happened, than later as it would inevitably turn out. It was just another symptom of how jaded I’d become.
There’s so many expectations that you learn to have the longer you “date around”. The more you date, the more you realize how often your expectations aren’t met, how often the guy fails to measure up based on your point system. The guys who do well on the point system rarely do well when it matters. Like your First date, the best dates happen when you have no expectations. You can’t expect a guy to be able or willing to take on all your emotional baggage. Nor do you want them to. Because when we say that if a guy loves you, he’ll love you for all that you are, faults and all, we’re just saying that when the time comes, the perfect guy will be the one who just holds you. Regardless of what pop culture tells us, girls aren’t asking to be saved from our own demons. We just ask that the guy won’t expect us to be perfect, and in those moments when we’re imperfect, that he’ll understand and support us. In return, we should learn not to expect perfection from them as well. Then all would be right in the world.
The question though is, is there room in this world for those simple romantic clichés. Is there a path back to that youthful belief in true love, which often isn’t necessarily a perfect love? Does anyone have that mapped out? Cuz I would sure like a copy. But really, what I’m trying to say is, as long as you’re jaded, you’re not ready to date. Even if someone special comes your way, you won’t be able to accept it, because you can’t accept the idea that somewhere out there is a guy who will love you, faults and all. | | |
|
