Sorting People

The PBS documentary, Race -- the Power of an Illusion, explores race in society, science and history. It has a great companion website.  Sorting People asks you to sort people according to race based solely on appearance.  It's an interesting exercise exploring not only our conception of race, but also in the photographed  individuals' conception of their own race.

I did very badly in sorting, getting only one out of four right in each category.  Try it yourself, and post your results in the comments.

Black-Asian Unity/Disunity

A call for Black-Asian unity in the face of recent violent crimes against Asians by Blacks in the San Francisco area:

Black-Asian Unity: Why we need to talk about race relations beyond individual incidents

Since publishing my first book, “BlAsian Exchanges, a novel” two years ago, I have often been asked to speak about the real-life common history of Blacks & Asians that is highlighted throughout my book. This includes the true story about Richard Aoki, a Japanese American, who was one of the founding members of the Black Panther Party, the NAACP’s opposition to the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II, and Black and Asian American students joining protests to promote ethnic studies at college campuses in the 1970s.

The interest is generated by the fact that many of these transracial connections between both Asians & Blacks involve a specific history of collaboration that mainstream media and traditional academia ignore but most people – especially Asians & Blacks – want to hear.

I believe that Asians, Blacks and the rest of the community should keep this common history in mind and consider talking about it at future community meetings and social gatherings as we try to grapple with whether incidents like the April 16 killing of Tiansheng Yu are hate motivated or random crimes.

Hearing about our commonalities – be they political or social – helps break the ice and creates the necessary bridge to discuss issues like race that can be hard for any community to discuss, particularly given America’s hesitancy to take up such concerns.

NAACP Hopes to Diffuse Tension Between Asians and Blacks in San Francisco

Rev. Amos Brown and leaders of the San Francisco chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) convened a group of
community, church and civil rights leaders from San Francisco’s Asian Pacific Islander and African-American communities to discuss and create a response to the recent string of violent incidents in the Bay Area involving members of the two communities.

* * *

Rev. Amos Brown told the group that the NAACP denounces these violent acts, saying, “when young African Americans prey on vulnerable Asians, that’s a no – no.” He stressed the historic advocacy role of the NAACP in the outrage over these incidents saying, “when marginalized people like blacks, gays or Asians are wronged, somebody has to speak up on their behalf.”

You'll recall the violence between Black and Asian students at South Philly High School last year (and perhaps this year as well.) This has been a difficult issue to talk about. Our expectation of racial violence is that it will be majority group v. minority group. When it is between minority groups there's this feeling of having to "choose sides," to compare the degree of oppression each group has experienced. Because certain racial groups, like African-Americans, get tagged as "criminals generally," those who buy into that stereotype want to judge them quickly as the wrongdoers and those who find that stereotyping wrong want to leap to their defense. Other racial groups, especially Asian Americans, are often stereotyped as passive, the perfect victims, which often helps them avoid blame for racial violence (for example, very few reports of the violence at South Philly High mention that the attcks that hospitalized 26 Asians was purportedly in retaliation for an attack on a disabled African-American student by 4 Asians (not to excuse the retaliation; even if the report of an attack by Asians against a Black student is true, the retaliation was as wrong as the intial attack)) -- but who wants the stereotype of perpetual victim?

All of these are tentative thoughts and questions. I'd be interested in what you think. As they grow older, our children of color will be having this conversation, too.

Also, at Racialicious there's a great post on this needed conversation, Talking About the Things We Do to Each Other.

Eyes Wide Open: Reactions

Wow, the interest in the article about the white father who required his adopted Asian daughter to undergo medically unnecessary surgery to "Westernize" her eyes has brought lots of reactions -- universally horrified reactions, I'm pleased to say.

On Twitter, for example, lots of re-tweets to get the word out, prefaced by lots of "WTF?" and "OMG" comments:

WTF...?? RT @ulb: OMG @adoptiontalk Surgery to Westernize the eyes of an adoptedAsian child: http://twurl.nl/moynka #adoption #race #racism

On Facebook, someone (I have no idea who, but I do know that Wendy also posted it, and I am appreciative!) posted it last night and brought in over 100 hits in one hour.

And these two bloggers have posted their reactions (and be sure to read the interesting comments at their blogs):

At American Family, an important point -- that we make choices for our children every day that can cut them off from their identity as effectively as a scalpel can:

We all know those parents who say “I am not going to make my child learn Chinese now, when they are old enough they can make that decision on their own;” or “She can move to a city/neighborhood with more Asians when she grows up if that is important to her;” or any of the 10,o00 variations on that theme, how is that really so very different?

Let’s not kid ourselves here, choosing to learn Chinese/travel to China/participate in Asian American activities/be a member of the Asian American community when your parents have never prioritized your Chineseness might feel like you are making an obvious choice to reject your parents’ culture/parenting/community etc. It might be too hard or too late or too awkward to comfortably make that decision by the time you are an adult.

As a matter of fact, who can say how late is too late? My kids arealready thinking about this stuff now at ages 3 and 6.

It isn’t just a scalpel that can do that kind of damage to our children’s identity. The choices we make as parents — as WHITE parents who adopted Children of Color — that are impacting our child’s ability to make their own choices about his or her identity. Every minute of every day.

And from an adult adoptee at Pound Puppy Legacy, after noting a feeling of hope that even adoptive parents are talking about this case with horror, an understandibly angry reaction in An Eye-Opening Look at the Power of an AP:

When I was a sophomore in high school, my Amother told me my birthday gift was going to take care of a problem. In my case, my "problem" was my nose. According to my Amother, it was too big... too ethnic. It had to be fixed. I had to be fixed. If I got fixed, more people would like me. If I got my face fixed, everything would be perfect.

As my stupid luck would have it, the plastic surgeon she chose for me was old (close to death/retirement) and not that great. As a result of that surgery, I have these annoying nodules I'd like to have removed, but won't because it's not anything I can afford to do... and quite honestly, I wouldn't want a plastic surgeons nose, anyway. My annoying nodules give me "character"... a quality many seem to like, once they get to know me. [Anyone see the irony in that statement?]

I shared the link to my blog post with the colleague (who, btw, is not a member of the adoption triad) who first told me about the article, and this is what she had to say:

I read the comments and appreciate the concerns raised by the adoptive parents. This article was one of several originally published in the Hastings Center Report about parents consenting to medically unnecessary cosmetic procedures for their children. Some countries are considering banning such surgeries in persons under 18. While I think the westernizing of children’s eyes is particularly repugnant, the whole idea of parents seeking out cosmetic surgery to make their children “better” than “normal” bothers me greatly.

I'm pleased that there are others who want to keep the conversation going. This issue is, of course, larger than this child and larger than unnecessary surgery, as appalling as that is. It's about the importance of identity, and what adoptive parents can and should do -- and should not do -- to foster positive racial identity in their children. And it's about adoption generally, and the absolute NEED for adoptive parents to unconditionally love and accept their children EXACTLY AS THEY ARE.

Louisiana is NOT for Lovers

Every time I see a "Virginia is for Lovers" bumper sticker, I think of Loving v. Virginia, the U.S. Supreme Court case that ruled an bans on interracial marriage were unconstitutional. That decision was madeover 40 years ago.

Apparently, one Justice of the Peace in Louisiana didn't get the memo:

A Louisiana justice of the peace said he refused to issue a marriage license to an interracial couple out of concern for any children the couple might have.

Keith Bardwell, justice of the peace in Tangipahoa Parish, says it is his experience that most interracial marriages do not last long. . . . Bardwell told the Daily Star of Hammond that he was not a racist. "I do ceremonies for black couples right here in my house," Bardwell said. "My main concern is for the children."

Bardwell said he has discussed the topic with blacks and whites, along with witnessing some interracial marriages. He came to the conclusion that most of black society does not readily accept offspring of such relationships, and neither does white society, he said.

"I don't do interracial marriages because I don't want to put children in a situation they didn't bring on themselves," Bardwell said. "In my heart, I feel the children will later suffer."

One can easily infer his opinion of transracial adoption, don't you think?!

Of course, the JP's actions are completely unconstitutional, and the ACLU is requesting the Louisiana Judiciary Commission to remove him.

Racial Insults: "I'm Used To It"

At ballet on Wednesday, a little girl asked Zoe why her skin was brown, told her it looked dirty, like it was covered with mud, called her "Blackie," and accused her of "sneaking around" the ballet studio. Zoe didn't say anything in response, and none of her friends in the dressing room stood up for her.

It's all so ugly, it even hurts to type it. I can only imagine how much it hurt Zoe to hear it. She was upset, but even worse, when I offered sympathy, she tried to make me feel better, saying, "I'm used to it." She's used to it, not because anyone has said that about her skin before, but because of the "Chinese eyes" incidents. How awful to be 8 years old and used to racial teasing and racial insults.

When kids make comments about race I don't automatically assume they've learned racism from their racist parents. But this one? The "mud" reference makes me think of white supremacists who call all non-whites "mud people." Am I overreacting? Maybe. But the "sneaking around" comment also seems too . . . I don't know the right word -- sophisticated?advanced? for a 6-year-old insulting an Asian-American.

Sneaky, sly, devious -- this part of the Asian-American stereotype exists, even with the prevalence of the "model minority" myths. But would a 6-year-old see Asian-Americans as sneaky? Has she been reading news accounts of Chinese spies? Watching Fu Manchu movies? Catching up on the justifications for internment camps for Japanese-Americans during World War II? Somehow I doubt it. So where does it come from at this age?!

I don't know what else to say. Enough intellectualizing.

My child claims to be "used to it." It just sucks.

Cultural/Racial Confusion

Imagine my surprise when I got my ABA Journal in the mail. There she is, the newest Supreme Court Justice, the first Hispanic justice, the third female justice appointed to the Court. There she is, framed by a pastiche of Asian imagery, with the word Kabuki leaping out at me. Kabuki theater -- stylized Japanese dance/drama, notable for white-face makeup. Sheesh. Then-Senator Joe Biden claimed the John Roberts confirmation hearing was a kabuki dance, but I didn't see anyone pose Justice Roberts as an Asian caricature.

And this on top of the National Review cover of Sotomayor as Buddha. What? There aren't any images of wise Latinas to make fun of, so you have to expropriate an Asian image? Even when the person you're mocking isn't Asian?!

Get a clue. Justice Sonya Sotomayor is NOT Asian. What is it about her that makes magazine-cover designers think Asian? And then we can't even decide what variety of Asian we're mis-identifying her as. Kabuki? Japanese. Buddha? Indian/Chinese. No matter, she is NOT Asian!

Seems like Frank Wu got it right in his book, Yellow: Race in America Beyond Black and White, once we move off the black/white dichotomy we are clueless about race.

Is adoption natural?

Issicat has a great blog post up, about prospective adoptive parents, brain washing, and "natural" mothers:

And here is the other one that cracks me up from the PAP’s. Apparently, I’m not supposed to call the woman who gave birth to me my natural mother. I’m not supposed to call her that because it implies that adoption is unnatural.

Ummm…hmmm…errr….

I got 2 things to say about that.

1. I was raised by my aparents calling the woman who gave me life my natural mother. They didn’t have a problem with it. She doesn’t have a problem with it and most importantly I don’t have a problem with it. . . . I’ll call my mother whatever I want.

2. ADOPTION is not natural. It isn’t. A person giving their child to an agency to be given to complete strangers to raise. Not natural. PAP’s wriitng “Dear Birthmother” letters trying to pimp themselves to women in crisis pregnancy situations in the hope of obtaining said baby… not natural.

You know what is natural? Babies going home and being cared for by the mothers who carried them in their bodies. That is natural. Anything else is just a little sad.

I’m not saying I hate adoption. I don’t. I’m not saying that adoption isn’t necessary in some cases. It is.

But there is no way in hell I would ever call it natural.

And that is something that my aparents seemed to get. My sibling and I …we came from other people. There was and is no denying it. My parents did not find it natural to be raising two children with no medical history. I think they found it pretty stressful, especially when I fell extremely ill as a toddler. I think that time right there, that extremely stressful time showed them once and for all that adoption was a very unnatural situation.

* * *

Adoption natural? No it isn’t. My mom is very proadoption. She loves adoption but she’ll tell you herself, she’s not stupid. Adoption is not an easy or natural road to take.

Oh and she thinks Anita Tedaldi is a shit-head…but that is another story.

Issycat's amom, I think I love you!

The "natural" thing is another one of those "givens" in adoption language -- adoptive parents are supposed to be upset about adopt-a-whatever programs, we're supposed to say we're the real parents, not those pesky birth parents, and we're supposed to say that adoption is natural, just another way to add to your family.

I was brainwashed to believe it, weren't you? I completely bought into the "same as" narrative, that raising an adopted child was the same as raising a biological child, nothing less and certainly nothing more.

It's not the same. I won't say it's harder. But it is more complicated. And that's what prospective adoptive parents should know and accept.

For me, it was having my new child in my arms that changed me. When she became a real person to me, instead of the abstract notion of the idea of a child, that's when it all changed.

So I forgive prospective adoptive parents a little. They have room for redemption.

What bothers me are those adoptive parents, with their child in their arms, who persistently cling to the "same as" narrative, rejecting that birth parents are real, insisting their child is AMERICAN so needs no special heritage-teaching/culture-keeping, saying that race doesn't matter (easy to say when you're the majority race, impossible for their minority-race child to live), desperately repeating the mantra, "same as . . . same as . . . same as. . . ."

Standard disclaimer -- not all prospective adoptive parents or adoptive parents are like that. But we all know ones who are, I bet.

A Cautionary Tale for Adoptive Parents

The story of a search for identity, about Nisha, adopted as an infant from India, now 26 years old and going back to India to search for her birth mother -- a must-read for adoptive parents and prospective adoptive parents who think the "same-as" narrative works, that all one need do is raise an adoptive child the same as a child born to you.

For adoptive parents who think “culture-keeping/heritage-teaching” isn’t worth the trouble:

“It used to be, regardless of their original culture or their skin colour, this child is truly yours,” says Kate Emery, the senior India programme coordinator for adoption agency MAPS Worldwide. But now, Nisha’s generation, adopted in the 1980s and 1990s, feels this was a mistake. “They need to know their culture,” says Emery.

It’s a thought that never occurred to Nisha’s parents. “I didn’t know any Indian people,” her father says. “And I guess I probably wouldn’t have known how to approach them even if I did. Would I say, ‘You know, my daughter’s Indian. Would you mind if she hangs out with you?’”

Though she didn’t realize it as a child, it bothered Nisha when she grew up and realized she had never been exposed to her own culture. She resented her parents for never trying to teach her about where she came from. The resentment bore down on her and when it was time to pick a college four years ago, she moved miles away from her family in Sacramento to San Diego. When she finally told her parents how she felt two years ago, they were shocked, unaware of how much pain the adoption had caused her.

. . . for adoptive parents who think color-blind works, that race doesn’t matter to their child, that knowing other "brown girls" isn't important:

Nisha, now a petite 26-year-old with a quick smile, was adopted from Goa by an all-white family at the age of six months and raised in “the white part of America”, as her father Randy puts it. The couple never taught Nisha anything about her birth country or culture, though they did retain her name and abided by one request the birth mother had made: never to cut Nisha’s hair. She didn’t cut it until she went to college. Stephanie says she figured “everyone would love each other” and that would be enough for Nisha to adjust to her adopted life in the US.

It wasn’t, though. . . . When she started searching for her own identity, as all young adults do, she struggled more than most. In her adoptive family she saw no answers, no history, not even a common physical appearance. Was she Indian or American? What tied her family together? What did it mean that she looked so different from her mother and sister and father? The questions left Nisha full of doubts about who she is and where she fits into the world around her. And, in her search to find herself, she pushed away the family that has so much to do with who she is.

* * *

When Nisha was 11, her family moved to a new neighbourhood in Sacramento. On her first day at gym, another student, Reena Ray, spotted her from across the room. “I remember seeing this girl,” Ray says, “and she was the darkest, littlest thing in the room, but she was wearing this T-shirt with strawberries on it and matching socks. And then out of her mouth comes the biggest valley girl voice ever.”

Nisha, who still has that distinct Californian accent, says she was instantly attracted to Ray—another small, dark-skinned girl. . . . Ray’s elder sister, Sharmila, became close to Nisha as well. The girls formed a multicultural group of friends. And suddenly, Nisha’s family — her mother, father and sister — felt left out and different. Randa [Nisha’s sister, biological child of her adoptive parents] says Nisha created her own family. She kept waiting for Nisha to come back to their family, but Nisha never did.

. . . for adoptive parents who don’t want to talk about birth family, who believe their children don’t think about birth family:

But Nisha still feels alone; missing a mother she could only imagine all her life, from bits she picked up from her parents’ stories. One particular thing Nisha clings to, a reason she thinks her birth mother would want to be found, is a letter that arrived at the Grayson home on Nisha’s first birthday. “My darling Nisha baby, I will always love you,” it began.

“From time to time over the years, I would find the card around the house, and I would know Nisha had been looking at it,” says Stephanie, who speaks with the wrenching love of a mother who can no longer protect her child from pain. She also speaks with the pain of knowing that no matter how good the intention, she caused some of that hurt. She tells me that Nisha’s birth mother lived at the orphanage before the birth and stayed with Nisha for some time after she was born.

When I ask Nisha about this story over coffee a few days later, she starts crying. “I never knew that!” she says. “Just the thought that she stayed, that she did really care for me, that it was hard for her, means a lot. I know she wouldn’t have done it if she didn’t have to, which is why I don’t hate her for it. But to think that she stayed. . . .”

* * *

She has got her mother’s name tattooed across her hip. “I want it to be a homage,” she says. And, perhaps, in a way, it’s a recognition that even if she never does find her birth mother, she can still answer the question of who she is herself.

Click here to read the whole thing.

This is in no way an indictment of Nisha's parents, who didn't have the advantage we do now of having heard from adult international/transracial adoptees about how these missing things affected them. We have no excuses.

Nor am I suggesting that if we only "do the right things" our children won't feel loss, grief, pain, that our children won't distance themselves from us in their search for identity, that we have somehow "failed" if our children search for birth family. I'm only suggesting that as adoptive parents we can help or we can hinder when our children search for identity, deal with adoption loss, grief, and pain, look for connections to birth family and birth culture/heritage. It is their search, their journey. But we shouldn't be the road blocks.

Lessons Learned

Remember the "Chinese eyes" incident from earlier this school year? I'd told Zoe we'd talk about whether we wanted to say something to her teacher, and needed to decide before parent-teacher conference (which was last Friday).

After our first conversation, I talked to the parents of two other Asian adoptees who are also in 3d grade at Zoe's school. Turns out both girls had also been teased with "Chinese eyes." When the mom asked one girl how it made her feel to be teased that way, she said, "Ashamed." Doesn't that just break your heart?

So we three moms emailed amongst ourselves to come up with a strategy, and we decided that each of us would talk to our own child's teacher at parent-teacher conference (interestingly enough, there are three 3d grade classes and each class had one of our girls). Zoe was consulted, and agreed whole-heartedly with the suggestion. Each mom went in with the same message, that we didn't want any particular child to be reprimanded about this (in fact, we each declined to give the names of the teasers when asked), that we didn't want our girls to be singled out in any kind of group reprimand. We wanted to get together with all the 3d grade teachers and maybe the school counselor to talk about some ways to turn it into a "teachable moment" for the 3d grade. We each expressed concern that our kids knew that bullying was bad, but didn't know what bullying was, and suggested that this lesson might be a way to expand on the bullying curriculum.

Good news! Each of the third grade teachers was very receptive to this approach!

Bad news! Somehow, unbeknownst to ANY of us parents, the approach changed.

Yesterday in the midst of our Maya-birthday-celebration, Zoe told me that she and the other two girls were pulled out of recess by the counselor. Zoe said she was scared because she thought she was in trouble (I'm sure all the other students watching this thought she was in trouble, too). The counselor asked them about the "Chinese eyes" teasing, and asked for the names of the teasers. Being good girls who obey adults, they told the counselor.

Could it get any worse? How about the teasers were then pulled out of class and sent to the principal's office?! EXACTLY what we said we didn't want to have happen HAPPENED.

AND, the only reason I know about this is because Zoe told me. No one from the school has contacted me to talk about it. No one warned me ahead of time. No one asked for permission to interrogate Zoe about it. I would have at least liked to be told about it after the fact so I could the teasers' parents that that's NOT the way I operate. If I had a problem with their child's behavior, I would talk to them directly! I saw this as a systemic issue requiring a systemic response, not about any individual bad actors.

And I think the school figures they've "solved" the problem. No systemic issue, no need to address it further. We punished the wrong-doers, case closed.

My first instinct is to go talk to the principal about all of this, to express my dissatisfaction with how the school handled it (won't that be a surprise to them! It isn't usually the so-called "victim's" parent who complains about the transgressors being punished!). I still want to press of a systemic approach that integrates racial teasing in the bullying curriculum.

But maybe I should drop it. Maybe the lesson I should take from this is that if I tell the school about a problem, the way they handle it is completely out of my control. It is possible that they COULD make this all worse -- though for the life of me I can't quite see how it could be any worse.

And the lesson Zoe has learned from this? I better not tell my mom about racial teasing, because once she tells the teacher I get hauled before the counselor, my friends get in trouble, and maybe they won't be my friend anymore and maybe the teasing will get worse?

I sure hope not. But I really feel I've breached a trust with Zoe, and will have to work hard to earn it back. And I really feel the school has breached a trust with me.

Being EXPLICIT About Race & Racism

I'm sure most of you have read See Baby Discriminate in Newsweek by now. If not, go read it and come back!

It's a fantastic article about how children perceive race, how they form opinions about race, and how to change children's opinions about race. Probably the most ballyhooed fact in the article is that children as young as 6 months old judge others by skin color.

But the thing that struck me in the article, proven over and over in many of the studies discussed, is how important it is to speak to kids EXPLICITLY about race and racism. Nothing short of that makes an impression. Neither a multicultural curriculum, nor "background" diversity, nor aphorisms of color-blindness, nor silence about race, will lead a child to positive attitudes about race. Only explicit discussion of race and racism will do it.

And then the other side of the coin revealed in the article -- how reluctant parents are to talk to their children explicitly about race. Why? According to one article, some parents won't talk about race because they ascribe to the color-blind myth that silence about race equals acceptance of all races. For white parents with white children, the subject just doesn't come up because of the invisibility of white privilege. Some lack a sound understanding of what race means. Some believe that the work of the Civil Rights Movement has eradicated racism, so there's nothing to talk about. And the number one reason parents don't talk about race or racism with their children -- FEAR! That would be fear of saying the wrong thing, of course.

The MultiracialSky website has some tips, a starting point, for talking about race:

The key to talking with your child—or anyone—about race is the same key to discussing any complex subject: openness. Start an open dialog with your child about race early in their life. Make it a comfortable subject of conversation—for you, and for your child.

WORDS

Find descriptive words you are comfortable using. Check out the MultiracialSky Glossary for expanded definitions of 60 race-related terms, including 30 heritage-affirming words used today to describe people with a variety of racial and ethnic
heritages.

COLORS

Start with words describing color such as brown or tan, or the colors of foods. The Colors of Us [below] has wonderful descriptive color words.

IDENTIFIERS

Teach your children words they can use to identify themselves, and terms people with other heritages use to identify themselves. (Examples: multiracial, Amerasian, Latina.)

RACE AND ETHNICITY

Talk with your child about names for different racial and ethnic heritages. The descriptions and words you use may evolve and change over time, or as the socially predominant terms evolve. (Examples: African American, Black American, Native American, European American, Asian American, Mexican, White, Black, Cuban, Irish)

HUMAN RACE

When talking about race in scientific terms, the fact remains that there is only one human race. This is a fact and statement we should equip our children with. However, especially as parents, we must also recognize that the societal construct of different and distinct races affects everyone.

I think it's important to give children this vocabulary. And I second the recommendation of The Colors of Us. But beyond vocabulary, how do we talk about racism, bias, stereotyping, bigotry?

Here are some general guidelines from CivilRights.org:

1 Our own feelings about the questions children ask can have as much impact as the words we choose to answer them. We may have to conquer some hurdles of our own before we can discuss racism comfortably with our children.

2 In the long run, our most helpful responses are those that show respect for our children's curiosity and encourage them to keep actively grappling with our complicated world. One useful way of thinking about our children's difficult questions is to view them as "teachable moments."

3 Understanding as much as we can about what prompts our children's questions is a good beginning. The more we know about why our children ask particular questions, the more likely it will be that we will help them find meaningful answers.

4 "I don't know" or "Let me think about that for a while" are valid answers. Racism is a complicated and persistent problem. Sometimes we need time to clarify our own thoughts and feelings before we can be of help to our children. Sometimes children's concerns are pressing. Hurt feelings, anger, and worries all need immediate attention.

5 When our children ask hard questions, we are given an opportunity to glimpse how they experience the world. In turn, we can use these opportunities to sort through complicated or confusing issues together.

(Sounds like good advice for talking about adoption, too!) But beyond answering questions, what can we do?

Here are som things we do, and I hope you'll share what you do, too. We do talk explicitly about racism, both historical racism and racism today. When you talk about MLK and the Civil Rights Movement, explicitly define the problem of the day as racism. But history isn't enough, in my opinion. You have to talk about what happens in current events, too. Remember the news story this summer about the black kids who kicked out of a private pool? Great opportunity to talk about prejudice, and how the kids must have felt. Unfortunately, there are many such reported events that provide a springboard for discussion.

As usual, I love using books to start conversations -- yes, books with multicultural characters are important, but it's also important to look for books that talk explicitly about racism (like The Skin I'm In) or show characters dealing with racism (like Chinese Eyes. (even imperfect books can do this -- I don't much like the way the mom dealt with it, but the book gives a good description of a child's feelings when confronting the eye-pulling gesture that accompanies the "Chinese Eyes" chant)).

We also talk specifically about the kinds of stereotyping Asian-Americans face, some that my children have already faced -- "Chinese eyes," ching-chong speech, fake karate moves in front of them, racial slurs. We role-play responses, including telling a grownup about it.

I think CivilRights.org sums it up nicely:

We can choose to actively influence our children's attitudes. With our encouragement children will test and think through their beliefs about race, ethnicity, and religion. They are unlikely to ask the necessary hard questions without our help. It is up to us to take the initiative!

Children care about justice, respect, and fairness. Squabbles about sharing, concerns about cliques, and problems with playmates -- the daily trials of childhood -- reflect their active interest in these social issues. So do the questions children ask, when they feel safe enough to ask them.

One important gift we can give ourc hildren is to create a family in which difficult issues like racism are openly discussed. By talking openly and listening without censure, we can learn about our children's concerns and help them find connections between larger social issues and their own life experiences.

I was reading a blog not too long ago where a person of color said that as white parents, we can't teach our minority children about racism. I agree, that not having the lived experience of the racism our children will face, we can't teach by example, by reference to our lives. But that's why I believe we have to substitute VERY EXPLICIT messages instead. It may not be an every-day topic of discussion, but it is, unfortunately, going to be a lifelong one.

Happy Labor Day

I came across this post discussing the origins of Labor Day, which identified the late 1800s as the start of Labor Day, with over half of the United States recognizing Labor Day by 1894.

The time period struck a chord, and I wondered about Chinese-American workers at that time, and how they were being “honored.” I still think the best account of the Chinese in America comes from Iris Chang’s book, The Chinese in America. But not wanting to type out a whole chapter from that book, I thought I’d share Asian Nation's short history lesson:

Chinese Americans are the oldest and largest ethnic group of Asian ancestry in the United States. They have endured a long history of migration and settlement that dates back to the late 1840s, including some 60 years of legal exclusion. In the mid-l9th century, most Chinese immigrants arrived in Hawaii and the U.S. mainland as contract labor, working at first in the plantation economy in Hawaii and in the mining industry on the West Coast and later on the transcontinental railroads west of the Rocky Mountains.

But few realized their gold dreams; many found themselves instead easy targets of discrimination and exclusion. In the 1870s, white workers' frustration with economic distress, labor market uncertainty, and capitalist exploitation turned into anti-Chinese sentiment and racist attacks against the Chinese called them the "yellow peril." In 1882, the U.S. Congress passed the Chinese Exclusion Act, and later extended to exclude all Asian immigrants until World War II. The number of new immigrants arriving in the United States from China dwindled from 123,000 in the 1870s to 14,800 in the 1890s, and then to a historically low number of 5,000 in the 1930s.

Legal exclusion, augmented by extralegal persecution and anti-Chinese violence, effectively drove the Chinese out of the mines, farms, woolen mills, and factories on the West Coast. As a result, many Chinese laborers already in the United States lost hope of ever fulfilling their dreams and returned permanently to China. Others, who could not afford or were too ashamed to return home, gravitated toward San Francisco's Chinatown for self-protection.

Still others traveled eastward to look for alternative means of livelihood. Chinatowns in the Northeast, particularly New York, and the mid-West grew to absorb those fleeing the extreme persecution in California.

I’m sure one could write an entire thesis on who has been left out of the celebration of American workers (someone probably already has!), and it would probably start with our horrific history of slavery. But thought y’all might be interested in hearing a bit about the historical treatment of Chinese-American workers around the time we first decided to honor American workers.

"China Doll"

I suspect we've all heard it -- someone "complimenting" our child by saying she looks just like a "China doll." We've all certainly read the China-adoptive parent discussion lists where APs describe their own children as China dolls. I've always hated the expression -- it's objectifying, stereotyping, and for adult women, infantalizing. Jha'Meia at Rebellious Jezebel Blogging, reacts to the phrase as applied to photos of her:

The term “China doll” unsettles me. It unsettles me because I’ve met people who coo and squee over Asian girls because “they are so cute”. I have trouble with the term because it ties into the whole “submissive Asian” trope. It bothers me because I am Chinese, and the term “China doll”, which could characterize all Chinese women who fit a certain physical look, effectively strips us of our agency in the eyes of others, rendering us, well, dolls.

I took a hard look at that set of pictures. I also thought back to other times I wore similar makeup. I generally avoid heavy makeup for this reason: looking like a China
doll. But even as I was avoiding the “China Doll” look, I neglected to ask what the hell, exactly, a “China doll” looks like.

Then I realized, no matter what makeup I wear, I will always look like a “China doll” to someone. I can’t help that – I’m Chinese! I can’t dictate that everyone think of me as a normal human being – there’s no way I can police that. I can’t help it that some people don’t think women should be wearing such striking makeup to begin with. I can’t help it that people stereotype Asians.

Like many other things, the term “China doll” refers to a construct, an idea of what something should be like. A China doll will look like what the viewer wants her to look like. She can range from simply being an Asian woman, to being a fetishly hyper-sexualized submissive. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that this is a stereotype, and one damaging to Asian women.

So how do you respond when someone tells you your child is a China doll? Have you explained the phrase to your child? How does your child feel about it? Any suggested responses for parents to make to people who are probably just being kind, but may need a little education? Any suggested responses for children to make when told they're a little China doll?

Radio Links

From NPR's Tell Me More, 'Oriental': Rugs, Not People:

It's an adjective that used to describe rugs, not people. That's the message New York Gov. David Paterson turned into law this week when he signed a bill that bans state documents from using the term "oriental" when referring to people of Asian or Pacific heritage. Jeff Yang, an Asian Pop columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, discusses the history of the loaded term and why so many Asian-Americans find it offensive.

Also from Tell Me More, Daniel Liu Redefines The Male Supermodel:

Daniel Liu comes across as the typical guy next door — unless you happen to live next door to a supermodel who walks the fashion runways of New York. At age 26, Liu is already a rising star among models, and one of the few Asian-American males making headlines in the industry. Liu talks about his budding career. [That's his picture up there, of course!]

From NPR's The Takeaway, Dissolving an Adoption:

It’s Monday, when we talk about family issues on The Takeaway. Takeaway contributor Lisa Belkin, who writes the parenting blog Motherlode for The New York Times, is here to talk with us about what happens when parents make the decision to dissolve an adoption.

We also talk wtih Anita Tedaldi about this painful process. Tedaldi wrote an essay for Motherlode about her very personal experience of terminating an adoption. She had adopted a baby from an undisclosed country and after months of raising the baby, decided that she and her husband were not equipped to take care of him.

"Chinese Eyes" Again

We went out for ice cream after dinner tonight, and triggered by the almonds in her Rocky Road ice cream, Zoe said, "At lunch the other day, three boys were doing this (the infamous eye-pulling gesture) and saying 'Chinese eyes! Chinese eyes!' at me."

There was a similar episode at school last year, different boys, and not directed at Zoe, but just done in front of her. She handled it well, but was naturally upset. Tonight she was pretty matter-of-fact about it (I'm not sure if that's an improvement, actually).

I asked what she did, and boy, was I proud of her response: "I said, 'Hey, guys, those aren't Chinese eyes, these (pointing at her own eyes) are Chinese eyes!'" Said, by the way, in the same tone she uses when she thinks I'm an idiot! For once, I was quite impressed with her smart mouth!

We brainstormed over ice cream about what to do about it, and talked about the school rules about teasing and bullying. Zoe hadn't thought of it as bullying, and couldn't really define what bullying was, just that bullying wasn't allowed. She knows from school to tell a grown-up about bullying, but that isn't much help when she doesn't know what bullying is. Seems a flaw in the school's anti-bullying curriculum.

Zoe is still thinking about whether she wants me to tell her teacher about the episode, though she agrees I can tell the teacher of the fault in the anti-bullying program. I've given her until parent-teacher conference in September to decide whether to share about the Chinese-eyes teasing, and with names or without them. Zoe handled it so well I don't feel the need to intervene immediately, but if it happens again, all bets are off.

As I said last time, I am so glad we've been pro-active about the possibility of racial teasing and negative adoption comments and the like. (We've role-played these kinds of situations several times.) I think that really helped Zoe feel empowered to handle this on her own -- which, of course, is when these incidents will happen, when she's not with me, but on her own.

Maya came up with the best response for future use -- she pushed in, rather than pulling out, the corners of her eyes and said, "English eyes! English eyes!" I almost choked on my ice cream!

"A little Beyonce"

I got my hair cut the other day, and a little girl was also having her hair done. She was African-American, a real cutie, around 4 years old. We were on opposite sides of the salon and were flirting with each other in the mirrors. She was there with her white mother, and it turns out she was adopted.

A couple of things struck me. First, the little girl was having her hair ironed straight, and her mom kept saying to her, "Don't you just love it when your hair is straight?" Hmmmm.

Second thing, the (white) stylist working on her hair kept telling her she looked "just like a little Beyonce!" Then came the stereotypical comments, "I bet you're a great dancer, just like Beyonce, right?" And when the little girl finally climbed out of the chair, "Show me a little dance!" No comment from mom.

Nothing to complain about here, right? Who could complain when her child is compared to Beyonce -- after all, Beyonce is gorgeous!

But that little scenario illustrated for me how stereotypes are reinforced, how limitations on what and who you should be are determined and conveyed based on your race. How insidious these reinforcements are. How pervasive these racial microaggressions are. When it starts when you're 4 years old -- before you're 4 years old -- how do you resist? And when it comes from your own family, how do you survive with a positive racial identity intact?

Speaking of White Privilege. . .

In Peggy McIntosh's groundbreaking article, she lists 46 things as the daily effect of white privilege in her life. It would be too long to list all 45, but here are some, pretty much chosen at random, for a taste:

1. I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.

3. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live.

5. I can go shopping alone most of the time, fairly well assured that I will not be followed or harassed by store detectives.

6. I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely and positively represented.

7. When I am told about our national heritage or about “civilization,” I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.

12. 1 can go into a book shop and count on finding the writing of my race represented, into a supermarket and find the staple foods that fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser’s shop and find someone who can deal with my hair.

13. Whether I use checks, credit cards, or cash, I can count on my skin color not to work against the appearance that I am financially reliable.

15. I did not have to educate our children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.

16. I can be pretty sure that my children’s teachers and employers will tolerate them if they fit school and workplace norms; my chief worries about them do not concern others’ attitudes toward their race.

17. I can talk with my mouth full and not have people put this down to my color.

19. I can speak in public to a powerful male group without putting my race on trial.

20. I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.

21. I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.

24. I can be reasonably sure that if I ask to talk to “the person in charge,” I will be facing a person of my race.

25. If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race.

26. I can easily buy posters, postcards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys, and children’s magazines featuring people of my race.

27. I can go home from most meetings of organizations I belong to feeling somewhat tied in, rather than isolated, out of place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance, or feared.

33. I am not made acutely aware that my shape, bearing, or body odor will be taken as a reflection on my race.

34. I can worry about racism without being seen as self-interested or self-seeking.

39. I can be late to a meeting without having the lateness reflect on my race.

40. I can choose public accommodation without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen.

41. I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help, my race will not work against me.

43. If I have low credibility as a leader, I can be sure that my race is not the problem.

46. I can choose blemish cover or bandages in “flesh” color and have them more or less match my skin.

Do you see white privilege at work in your life? Do you see how that might be different for your children? It starts with that first one -- arranging to be in the company of people of their own race most of the time. For most of them, most of the time, that isn't possible, is it? And some of that rubs off on us, as parents. #15, not having to teach our children about systemic racism, doesn't apply to us. Does that feel like the loss of a privilege we're entitled to?

Discuss, please!

White Privilege & Children's Books

Follow this link from Harlow's Monkey to a great piece on white privilege and children's book by Laura Atkins. Atkins has been a book editor, and explains how books by non-white authors or featuring non-white characters are changed in the editing process to reflect majority culture.

Part of selection and editing of books in certain ways reflects the typical editor's place in majority culture. This self-confessional part explains it well: "I became aware, over time, of how my reaction to manuscripts was based within my background – class, race, education, and gender. I had certain expectations of the types of stories that were appropriate for children, ways of constructing a narrative, and content that was child-friendly. It was only in the context of working with authors from different backgrounds that these expectations were challenged."

The changes are also motivated, she says, by "market forces" (read: money) -- the desire to reach a wider audience, and appeal to institutional buyers like educators and librarians who tend to be white. She discusses in detail how a book she edited was watered-down (or perhaps more accurate to say white-washed) to meet that institutional audience.

Perhaps most shocking to me was the discussion of a publisher who placed the photo of a white girl on the cover of a children's book featuring a black girl. Atkins notes the lack of outrage over this incident in mainstream media.

Go read the whole thing -- it's not that long.

Addendum: Also thanks to Harlow's Monkey, this link to Sara Park's reaction to Atkins' piece, applying it to her interest in Asian-American characters in children's books and Asian-American adoption in children's books.

Too much culture?

OK, this video is funny! Do you think it's deliberate that the white family doing Korean is mixing it up with Japanese and Chinese and who knows what-all fungible-Asian stereotypes? Or do you think the writers don't have a clue either?!

And it's also a good pair with this article, What's My Heritage? International Adoptions and the Culture Debate, from Brain,Child:

For an English speaker, “win” approximates Nguyen, one of the most common yet
elusive of Vietnamese names. Maybe Nick thinks we’ve cracked a secret code. He
told me recently that Nguyen Thanh Hiep is his true name.

At these moments, I’m sure my husband Rob and I are doing something right. Like many international-adoptive parents, we work hard to incorporate our son’s birth culture into our lives. For years, we’ve followed the formula for what’s sometimes called “culture keeping”: celebrating the main holidays from Nick’s birth culture; buying ethnic artwork, clothing, or food; spending time with other international adoptive families, perhaps going to a “culture camp” for a few days each summer.

Some would say I take it to extremes. I enrolled in a Vietnamese language class the year before Nick’s adoption in 2002. Last fall, I signed up for another course that meets five days a week. At the same time, I found a Vietnamese tutor for Nick.

In December, Rob and I took Nick on a trip to Vietnam, his first visit back to his birth country. But just weeks before we left, we found ourselves with a child melting down, who was terrified we’d leave him there, afraid we’d be disappointed if he didn’t like it. “I don’t want to go to Vietnam!” he howled. “I don’t want to go to Vietnam! I…don’t…want…to…go…to Vi-et-nam!”

It was then that I thought maybe I’d gone too far. Was I doing this more for myself than for Nick?

I know the caveats. He was too young; it’s normal for a first grader to be contrary. All true, and he often infuriated me in Vietnam. I was proud when he told people his name in Vietnamese, but I never felt at ease. We were on public display more than in any American hospital hallway. I worried for my boy when saleswomen fussed over the long rattail in his hair, fingering it, saying he was “lucky.” I kept wanting to hug his tense little face against my chest.

Since our trip, I’ve talked to people inside the adoption community and out: other parents, adoptees, social scientists, Vietnamese Americans. Going overboard can be worse than doing nothing at all, so I wonder and fret: How much should I push cultural activities onto my son? How much of his birth culture is it healthy for him to keep as he grows—and how much is confusing or harmful, a kitschy pastiche that will leave him permanently unmoored?

Can you say "balance," anyone?!

"Dear every adoptive parents"

This comment to the posted video from Chinese Heritage Camp:

Dear every adoptive parents,

We are Chinese parents with kids born in the U.S. Thank you for your love in adopting helpless orphans and nurtur them to be happy kids of yours. I have viewed the video of the camp for adoptees. My suggestion to you is to try to seek out Chinese American families and let your kids befriend their kids. The reason? I think these Chinese American families are more normal in the sense that they are emotionally balanced. You can also learn from Chinese parents about their culture and they from you about American culture. It's a good way to help each other out. As a Chinese, I feel these camps for adoptees from China are weird. Real Chinese kids don't do dragon dance or kungfu. To us, the Chinese heritage is nothing more than Chinese food, the language, delayed gratification (with money and material things) and hard work. Be careful with your child's encounter of racism. Some kids don't even tell their parents but racist incidents will scare their life and affect their self esteem big time. Worst yet, they may affect your child't relationship with you. Racism is real and ugly and kids aren't old enough to handle them. Make sure you check on your child when s/he comes back from play time with other kids. I hope you can find some good American Chinese families around to befriend with. God bless you all.

Reactions?

"All the Brown Girls"

The image of that girl, in awe at seeing "all the brown girls" just like her at camp, sticks in my head. As Sue wisely put it in the comments:

I really think that camp is mostly about hanging out with a LOT of kids who are there due to similar circumstances and heritage. My girls didn't learn a whole lot new about Chinese culture, because they attend Chinese school and learned similar things there. Some of the new things they can't remember (like new songs, words, etc.) But what they don't articulate, but I really think they feel at some level, is that this is the one place where they are among a LOT of kids who are like them... born in one culture and raised in another. Which, in a way is a culture in an of itself.

Maya clearly feels that sense of belonging, of sameness. I posted the first part of this video already, and noted how surprised I was that at age 5 Maya could already realize that being Chinese in an Anglo world felt "different." In the second half, she tries to articulate the feeling of being in a place where she is one of 238Chinese girls under one roof.



And again, let me say, I LOVE my Flip! Maya usually won't talk to me about hard issues (not like Zoe will!), but she'll talk to the camera about them. . . .