Long Duck Dong's Damage

Asian Americans hold a unique position among ethnic groups in the United States. As part of the most recent immigrant group, we reap the benefits of the civil rights movements of the past; but we struggle for acceptance in affirmative action and equal rights programs tailored for the Black and Hispanic populations. American society gives us the opportunity to retain our cultural heritage, yet it pressures us more than ever to blend into the mainstream.

As a result, Asian Americans don't face the same issues that Blacks and Hispanics did. Because of the civil rights movement, we don't have to deal with de jure discrimination; nor do we need to go out of our way for fair labor practices or educational opportunities.

Nevertheless, discrimination still exists, though not as blatantly as in the '50s and '60s. Rather than being institutionalized, racism against Asians exists as societal misperceptions and unflattering stereotypes. Yet activism by and for the Asian American population is rare. So-called "minority programs" tend to ignore Asians, and Asian American groups themselves are often entirely apolitical.

When I was growing up, popular culture didn't give me much a choice of role models. Which could you look up to: (a) Bruce Lee, a violent martial artist with a bad accent, (b) Mr. Miyagi, an exotic martial artist with a bad accent, or (c) Long Duck Dong from the movie Sixteen Candles, a socially inept math/science nerd with a bad accent?

Thankfully, the number of Asian American writers in the artistic community is growing constantly, and the media is finally beginning to produce more positive images of Asians. Nevertheless, Long Duck Dong's damage has been done; The image of Asian Americans as math/science types has been etched into the popular psyche. Even at Harvard, Sensitivity Central, my teachers and classmates still find it impossible to believe I'm not a premed.

Last year, a Black friend of mine told me she didn't think the Asian stereotype was so bad. "When I walk into a store," she said, "people think I'm there to steal something. When they see you, they just think you're smart."

This argument misses the point entirely. There is no such thing as a good stereotype; if someone forms a preconceived notion of your abilities and manner from the tone of your skin or the slant of your eyes, you are dehumanized. You become an object, mass produced with certain standard characteristics.

Sometimes people don't even realize they're being offensive. When I traveled to Asia this past summer, a white gentleman gave me this bit of advice. "While you're in Asia, don't make big arm gestures--it intimidates them." With an entirely straight face, he told me he knew it was true because he'd read it in Michael Crichton's pulp fiction classic, Rising Sun.

Asian Americans have already formed organizations to serve as activist groups. Harvard's campus, for example, has more than eight Asian student organizations; at least two are less than a year old. But for the most part, these student groups refrain from political involvement. The Asian American Association, meant to be an umbrella group representing all Asian American students, is better known for its noodle nights and Quincy dining hall dances than for any political commentary.

The Harvard Foundation, created to foster better race relations on campus, is largely ignorant of Asian American needs. Last week, the Foundation invited Martin Yan, from the PBS television show Yan Can Cook, to speak at Yenching Auditorium.

While Martin Yan is a valuable member of Asian American society, he is yet another media image of the exotic Asian. Asking the Asian equivalent of Buckwheat to give an hour-long demonstration of Chinese cooking and Tai-Chi does nothing for campus race relations. In fact, it perpetuates the stereotypes the Foundation aims to eliminate.

Asian Americans need to assert their collective political identity more often. However, they can't take their example from the minorities of the past. The new Asian leaders will be academics and prominent media personalities, not militants like Malcolm X. After all, our situation differs markedly; we don't have to deal with systematic oppression, but rather with the last vestiges of discrimination which we have ignored for too long.

Groups like the AAA should become more active than they are now. I can't explicitly define what the Asian American agenda should be, but clearly some decisions should be made. For instance, does Harvard need an ethnic studies department? What can be done about the media's perception of Asian Americans? How can relations with other minorities be improved?

Asian Americans need an agenda. They call us the Model Minority. Unlike other minorities, we're not vociferous; more often, we're considered obedient and obsequious. It's about time we changed that.