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Wednesday, February 6, 2019 // The Statement
3B
A
s a Chinese-American bisex-
ual girl, my love and sex
life have been a mess from
the start. Long before I knew I was
also into girls, I was super into boys,
and not afraid to be upfront about
it. I think I was something of a femi-
nist in middle school before I really
learned about or knew what feminism
actually was because I thought that
girls waiting for boys to ask them
out all because of social and gender
norms was dumb. I’d ask boys out.
But growing up as a kid in the 2000s,
I didn’t feel very attractive. I didn’t
look like Barbie and have long blonde
hair, big blue eyes, freckles, or the
tiny, upturned nose I wanted to have
so badly. All of these, of course, were
Eurocentric beauty standards. In the
romance movies I watched as a kid, all
the female protagonists were white —
there was very little Asian representa-
tion in the media. When I was younger,
I didn’t think I was attractive at all
because I wasn’t white. And of course,
as a kid, I went through the whole
“only attracted to white boys” phase —
something that’s very common among
young Asian girls, but deeply rooted in
internalized racism and societal norms
about what the West deems beauty
and desirability to look like. I dreamed
of being the good-looking, average
American girl next door and I so badly
wanted a white boyfriend. I used to
think that if I could just have a white
dude named Jake to love me, I would
somehow feel validated and more
beautiful because someone like that
could be attracted to someone like me.
Looking back ten years later, I real-
ize how wrong I was. It took me a
while to accept myself as Asian. In my
early teen years, I tried to play myself
off by being the most non-stereotyp-
ical Asian girl: I was super outgoing
and not afraid to say what was on my
mind, wasn’t afraid to make the first
move with boys I was interested in,
listened to a lot of Green Day and wore
a lot of black. I was trying to send out
the message that I was “not like other
Asian girls.” In my mind, I imagined
Asian girls to be unattractive nerds
complicit in our own dehumanization
and oppression (Chinese culture places
importance in society on older men,
and most older Chinese families have
a preference for sons over daughters).
But with social media now, I see a lot
more faces in my feed that look like
mine — Asian girls on Instagram being
fashionable and looking cute. But with
the rebranding of Asian girls from
being the undesirable nerd with bangs
to being the sexy, long-haired tattooed
party girl with eyelash extensions, it
still didn’t quite fit with what I was.
And, for better or worse, my experi-
ence with boys changed from “you’re
not attractive because you’re Asian” to
the “you’re attractive because you’re
Asian” sort of fetishization by white
men — which I soon learned, did not
put me in a better place at all (both
above statements are gross and racist).
A number of guys I’ve hooked up with
have told me, “I just think Asian women
are the hottest,” or “You would make
so much money if you did porn.” In
pop culture and porn especially, Asian
women are fetishized and portrayed as
submissive sexual objects or “Dragon
ladies,” a stereotype of Asian women as
mysterious, deceiving, and domineer-
ing (much like a sexy ninja). It’s hard
for me as a girl who enjoys asserting
and owning my sexuality to not fit into
these sorts of stereotypes — and what’s
more, I hate it when men try to play it
off like I’m doing this for them like no,
stop, my sexual prowess is my own.
Even after coming to college at the
University of Michigan, I still encoun-
ter such ignorance and fetishization of
my race. Someone I met at a tailgate said
to me, “You’re the sexiest Asian I’ve
ever seen,” and someone from my eco-
nomics discussion told me, “I’ve never
had Asian pussy before.” I told him
to stop fetishizing my race, to which
he replied, “If anything, I thought it
would be more of an incentive for you.”
Excuse me, “Chad,” I’m not eight any-
more and I don’t need a white boy’s
attention to feel accepted and wanted.
Now: women. Being bisexual is hard
enough as it is. But being Asian and
bisexual is where it gets even more
complicated. When I tentatively came
out at age 14, people were shocked that
I was attracted to women and were
shocked that someone who grew up
in a strict Asian household could be
bisexual. Again, I was haunted by ste-
reotypes of being the perfect docile
Chinese daughter who never did any-
thing wrong (although my peers knew
perfectly well what I was up to behind
my parents’ backs). Additionally, being
fetishized for my race was already
annoying enough — I now had to deal
with guys fetishizing my sexuality
and asking me if I would have a three-
some. It’s hard to be a sexual person
by nature and not fall into these rac-
ist, sexist stereotypes of being merely
a sexual object for men’s pleasure. I
wanted to be able to enjoy sex and rela-
tionships without being overly sexual-
ized and objectified just for my identity.
I’ve even been referred to as an
Asian “manic pixie dream girl.” Manic
pixie dream girls are a trope in film and
television for a quirky and alternative
sort of female character who “isn’t like
other girls,” and exist only to help the
male protagonist rediscover or better
himself. But that’s not me in relation-
ships or sex at all. I — like every other
woman — am complicated and smart
and angry and confused and happy. I
have interests outside of the bedroom. I
have goals of my own that don’t include
fixing broken men and being the mys-
terious dark-haired lover with black
combat boots and big eyeliner-rimmed
eyes. I — like other bisexual women of
color — am so much more than that.
And I sure as hell don’t need society
or “Chad” telling me how I should act
based on a shitty pop culture reference.
My bisexuality is not for men to sexu-
alize. My Chinese heritage is not for
people to fetishize and make assump-
tions about — and most of all, I am not
your Asian manic pixie dream girl.
Not
your
asian
manic
pixie
dream
girl
BY ANGELA
ZHANG
MiC
COLUMNIST
D
ear Mom,
First, I love you for every-
thing about you, and I think that you
are one of the most beautiful people that
I’ve ever seen. I love the way that the
sun illuminates your skin — the natu-
ral glow that gleams effortlessly among
the pigmentation of your melanin. It is
the most beautiful shade of brown and
earth, and when I feel overwhelmed
and insecure in a sea of white, it is the
first thing I want to see to wrap me in
its embrace.
Undoubtedly, you are my biggest and
best supporter. I will never be able to
put into words how thankful I am for
everything that you’ve done for me.
Whenever I am sad or low in energy,
a phone call from you is all that I need
to uplift my spirit. Your kindness and
humor is medicine for my ever-racing
mind, and I know for a fact that I would
not be whole without your butter voice
helping me hold it together.
I thank you so much for wearing your
hair natural, instilling in me a love for
my roots. You were, and continue to be,
my hair inspiration. When I felt lost in
my pursuit to reclaim agency over my
own self-esteem and appearance, I was
able to look no further than your crown
of coils for assurance and ease. I thank
you for accepting me for who I am, in
all of my flaws, errors, messy rooms
and dirty laundry baskets. You give me
so much grace, more than I deserve,
because you always try your best to be
compassionate to my young adult strug-
gles. I strive to always pay you back the
same love, and I hope that one day I can
grow into a heart that is as big and for-
giving as yours.
Your blood runs pertinent and sure
in my veins and, along with that, from
our elders and ancestors, is the essence
through which I strive to ground my
strengths in. It is through generational
resilience and perseverance that I am
made, and I give honor to the example
of unwavering solidity that you have set
for me.
This letter will never be enough to
fully capture how much love I have for
you, but I hope that this dedication will
give you even the slightest sense of the
admiration that I have for you. I love
you dearly.
Love,
Na’kia
A love letter to Denise
BY NA’KIA CHANNEY, MiC MANAGING EDITOR