Fresh Off The Boat vs. Gilmore Girls: Asian American Families

With the long-awaited premiere of Fresh Off The Boat this past week, a lot has been written about the first Asian American family to be on primetime TV since 1994, when Margaret Cho's All-American Girl infamously debuted. But I was way too young, thankfully, to know or care about All-American Girl when it first came out.

Instead, later on, I had another TV Asian American family to try to relate to: Lane Kim and her mother on Gilmore Girls. And as much as I love that show, I have to say how much I've always cringed at how the Kims were portrayed. Mother Kim, pressed to stand as the lone symbol of Asianness, alternates between antagonist and butt of joke. Consequently, Lane's character arc seems to be her quest to ward off everything that is represented as Korean in the show. And when Lane has to travel to Korea, it is treated as an unfathomable horror. Instead, what she wants to do is rock out to Dead Kennedys and touch the heads of blond-haired boys. In other words, she wants to be "American," forever divergent from "Asian," and never the twain shall meet.

Oh the joys of being Asian American. Also, where is Mr. Kim?

Not to say that these feelings are inaccurate, as it is practically a rite of passage for young Asian Americans to, at some point in our lives, feel angry at the fact that our parents need us to translate everything, or that we can't eat certain foods around our "American" friends, or that we have to go to <insert ethnicity> school and <insert ethnicity> church on the weekends. Some of us eventually learn how to reconcile our identities and some of us don't. In Gilmore Girls, there's actually a very rich and complex subplot in the later half of the first season where Lane unexpectedly falls for Henry, a Korean American classmate of Rory's. She dismisses him on-sight at first just because he too is Korean (a classic Asian American move), but to her utmost horror, she finds that she likes him despite the fact that he's what her mother would like. This says a lot about the conflicting identity issues within Lane and makes her a much more layered character.

The only problem is that this storyline is never pursued much further and just peters out, never to be examined again. Soon, it's back to the same old one-sided angle where Asian culture is this constant impediment to becoming American, where rock music and the Lorelai/Rory tag-team are both a figurative and literal refuge from having to be Asian. And it's not as though identity clash is a worthless topic that should not be explored. Gene Luen Yang's American Born Chinese deals with this exact same issue as well. But at the end of that story, there is a reconciliation where the protagonist finally feels comfortable enough with himself to befriend the Other Asian Kid in school whom he had previously avoided. In contrast, with Gilmore Girls, I don't know if such a comparable event happens. Culminating with her wedding (replete with her oh-so-kooky relatives from Korea), Lane seems to succeed more via escape than through reconciliation.

A painful scene from "American Born Chinese" by Gene Luen Yang

Maybe one will reflexively argue that a show like Gilmore Girls shouldn't bear these burdens: "Lorelai's parents were controlling and Taylor Doose was a nutcase too, so why can't Mrs. Kim be the same?" Sure, except the likes of Mr. and Mrs. Gilmore or Taylor haven't been absent from TV for 2 decades.



In stark contrast to Gilmore Girls, the family in Fresh Off The Boat is tight-knit and loving, despite their peculiarities. At the end of the pilot, the Huangs have expressed the utmost solidarity for each other and they proudly walk off together with the vow that they'll always look out for one another. In his book and in his public talks, Eddie Huang heavily emphasizes that singular moment when he first brought his traditional Chinese lunch to school and the embarrassment he suffered. But instead of adapting himself to become more "American"—like, for example, learning to make a better hamburger or creating some East-West fusion cuisine—he learns to unapologetically embrace his "stinky" lunch. And now, well, the joke's on his bullies because everybody loves that food now.

One may argue that Eddie's love of hip-hop is the same thing as Lane's love of rock. But the key difference is that hip-hop is never presented as the antithesis to Eddie's Asian Americanness. In fact, his parents even sometimes gamely try to adopt some of his lingo. More importantly, the whole reason Eddie becomes enamored with hip-hop is that it's his only means of articulating what it's like to be Asian American, which is to say, to be non-White. In contrast, Lane's passion for rock is pitted against her Asian American identity as an incompatible force, as her way of expressing how she's not like all those other Asians who exist in her world. Whereas Eddie's exuberance for hip-hop is his way of asserting his unique racial identity, Lane's affinity for rock just ends up neatly fitting her in the pre-existing mold of Lorelai.

The Huangs are going to do it their way

Eddie Huang has railed against how ABC has bowdlerized his life story. And yes, I too would like to see the HBO version with the Psycho Gangster Dad from real life. But this family-friendly version of his life story also presents something that I've never seen in American pop culture before: a warm and loving Asian American family. No abusive parents, no maudlin story of having to sell body parts to escape from Asia, no loveless marriage because Asians can't be romantic... This is all the more galling when you consider the fact that Asian Americans are stereotypically thought of as the Model Minority with strong "family values." I guess not in TV-land. It wasn't until Lost that we saw that rare depiction of an Asian couple in a complex relationship. Fresh Off The Boat goes one step further by giving such a couple a family of their own. This is a huge step forward.

And in the end, it is those seemingly incongruous aspects—the Defiantly Asian element wrapped up in a Wholesome Asian family—that are so refreshingly powerful and resonant in Fresh Off The Boat. No longer is your Asian American family something you have to overcome or escape from. Instead, they're the ones who'll have your back as you teach all the fools to appreciate your "stinky" lunch.

Are you from North or South?

Note: I do not support censorhip, especially censorship predicated on terrorism, in any way. This article is not a commentary on Sony's decision to cancel the release of the movie. Instead, it's a commentary on the movie itself, as well as Americans' perceptions of the two Koreas.

"Are you from North or South?"

I've been asked this question many times in my life, and I know that a lot of other Koreans have too. Personally, I try not to take offense because I give people the benefit of the doubt that they are just being curious without malicious intent. Kind of like when they ask me where I'm "from." Sure, I might think that they're being laughably ignorant in thinking that the Korean peninsula is something like California: "NorKor or SoKor?" But on the list of things that you could say to me based on ethnicity/race, it's not that high on the Totem Pole of Racist Bullshit.

It is, however, alarming that a lot of people see someone like me and think that I have as good a chance of being a North Korean as I would a South Korean. It seems that—going just by name, appearance, and/or general ethnicity—a South Korean like me could very well be a North Korean in the eyes of many. I see it happen all the time, especially in international sports. Whenever the World Cup happens, there will inevitably be an announcer for a (supposedly) world-class broadcasting organization who makes a mistake about the Koreas. For example, in a 2010 World Cup match between South Korea and Argentina, a German announcer said that the Koreans were 10cm shorter on average than the Argentinians. Actually, the average height of the South Korean team was significantly higher than that of Argentina's. He probably meant the North Korean team (though he would've also been wrong on that account, since North Korea and Argentina had the same average heights). Later, when FC Barcelona swung by Seoul on its Asia tour, Dani Alves complimented the South Korean national team for having played quite well when they had played Brazil in the 2010 World Cup. Except that it had been North Korea who played them, not South Korea.

North. South. Interchangeable.

At first glance, can most people tell whether this is the South or North Korean football team?

And that's my issue with The Interview and Kim Jong Il/Kim Jong Un jokes. A lot of the ire directed at North Korea could easily be redirected, either intentionally or not, against South Korea. Yes, I know that most people are specifically directing their ridicule at one particular repugnant leader and one particular backwards country. But Kim Jong Il and Kim Jong Un are also the most famous Koreans in the world. Sure, Kim Yuna is the most dominant figure skater of all time, Park Chan Wook is one of the premier auteur filmmakers in the world, and Ban Ki Moon is the UN Secretary General. But none of them have anywhere near the "Q-rating" of the Kim dictators, at least in America. There's no other Korean, living or dead, about whom Hollywood would make a movie.

Just as a refresher, remember what happened with Red Dawn? There were plenty of people who left the theaters being angry at "Asians," not just "North Koreans." In the end, do people really know how to tell the difference between Kim Jong Un and Park Geun Hye? Can they tell the difference between Pyeongchang and Pyongyang? Do they even care to?

If I told people on the street that this was the North Korean Prime Minister, how many would rightfully call me out for being a dumbass?

I haven't seen The Interview and will probably never get to (even if I wanted to). But apparently, there's a scene where Kim Jong Un cries and then craps his pants. And there's a North Korean female character who falls for the Seth Rogen character for some reason and has sex with him. And there's a lot of bad accents and mock Korean spoken by the two White male lead characters. Who wants to bet that there's a small dick joke somewhere there as well?

Neutering and ridiculing of an Asian man? Obligatory sexual relationship between White guy and Asian woman? Ching-chong and switched Ls and Rs? This just sounds like the Hangover movies.  There would at least be some value in all this if the North Korean regime wasn't already a joke in every country not called North Korea. And guess which country will end up being the one country that won't possibly be able to see this movie on a wide scale?

Say I go watch this movie and people in the audience laugh uproariously (hypothetically speaking, since the movie has gotten terrible reviews). When they laugh, what should I, and other Koreans, think? Should I trust that they're laughing at just Kim Jong Un? Or are they laughing at him and his cronies? Or at his whole country? Or Koreans or Asians in general? Should I laugh louder than everyone else to prove that despite how I look, I am most definitely one of the good guys?

Pardon me if I seem a little paranoid. But you know, I just think of all the times I've been asked:

"Are you from North or South?"

The Question: "So where are you from?"

It was early spring of 2011, and I had just started a semester at the Yonsei Foreign Language School in Seoul. Yonsei is located in the northwest quadrant of the city, situated near other major universities like Ewha, Sogang, and Hongik. Founded by Christian missionaries, Yonsei's American lineage is apparent in the various ivy-clad buildings and hedgerow gardens that are diced by narrow pathways. Later in the spring, its hills would be coloured by blooming cherry blossoms.

I was in my second week of school and just happy to have a chance to hang out with people my own age. I couldn't wait to experience the nightlife in the surrounding student hub areas of Sinchon and Hongdae with their proliferation of affordable bars and karaoke rooms. Before, "going out" meant going to see grandma. As much as I love her, it's not quite the same. Anyway, on that day, I was to have lunch with a classmate, a Japanese exchange student named Harumi (not her real name). I hadn't noticed her the first day of class, but it was either on the second or third day that she came in wearing a jumper dress and that was it for me.

As I waited for her in the lobby of her dorm, a stranger approached me. Maybe she was Thai or Filipina. Wherever she was from, she wasn't from around here and she asked me for directions to somewhere. Obviously, I didn't know the answer as I was only barely acquainted with this easternmost side of the university. She apologized and said she assumed that I knew because I seemed "so Korean."

I was then no longer fretting over whether Harumi would interpret our lunch as a date or not, and whether I wanted that or not. Instead, I wondered what made that girl think that I—a guy who had spent 98% of his life overseas—was "so Korean." And not just "Korean;" "SO Korean."

**********

"Where are you from?"

That's the question that plagues or haunts many Asian Americans.

Even those who've never been asked it in that way (i.e. in a "You couldn't possibly be from this country!" way) are always anticipating the moment that it will come. Some may even have spent hours concocting the perfect comeback to put the imagined Smug Yankee in his or her place.

This conundrum is not unique to Asian Americans. For example, in Jim Jarmusch's Stranger Than Paradise, the protagonist Willie becomes annoyed, even angry, when his grandmother talks to him in Hungarian instead of English. He's initially disdainful of his "FOB" cousin Eva who has come straight outta Budapest. And to him, paprika is the kimchi or Chinese herbal medicine that Asian American kids feel apologetic about when they have friends come over.

But of course, this isn't exactly the same because Asians cannot pass for anything other than Asian, no matter what we wear or how we change our speech and names.

This past weekend, I was having dinner and drinks with some friends of mine (if you guys are reading this: my WONDERFUL and BEAUTIFUL friends!) when we asked ourselves this question. All of us were Korean and American/Canadian to some extent, and our varied answers all reflected those nuances.

There are those who would rather simplify their answers. There are many Asian Americans who adamantly state that they are simply "American" (or "Canadian") and become offended at any perceived association with their ancestral home country. This shouldn't be, though I will admit that there was a time when I'd be satisfied if someone described me as simply "Canadian."

Let's imagine someone with extensive ties to Great Britain. Let's call this imaginary person "Ben." Do you think Ben would insist upon severing any links to his homeland? Naw. Chances are he'd work the British angle every chance he'd get:

Cute Girl: "Nice to meet you, Ben! Where are you from?"

Ben: "Well, I grew up in Boston, but I was born in England. ENG-land. In LON-don."

Cute Girl: "Oh wow! That's so cool!"

Ben: "Oh is it? Let me then regale you with my extensive knowledge of British culture. For example, did you know that we call fries 'chips' there?"

Cute Girl: "So fascinating!"

Ben is a very regal character

Anyway, you get the point. The truth is that not all nationalities are perceived as equal in our society. When people say that they just LOVE accents, what they really mean is that they like a very selective few accents from a very selective few countries in the world. Hint: They're all in Western Europe or its former colonies. 

By attempting to distance yourself from your own heritage—one that you're still closely tied to because chances are that your parents or grandparents are immigrants and you have a lot of family living back in the "motherland"—you're just readily admitting that you belong to a socially undesirable nationality. Look, society already does enough to devalue you. You yourself don't need to join in on hobbling your own knees.

As hard as you may try, you'll probably always get quizzical looks when you answer a call that asked for "all-American." Or maybe you will be the rare one to overcome that initial barrier because there's always room for The Exception. And those in charge will pay what they think is a compliment to you when they say you're so not like the others from your group. Congrats, you've levelled up! Add +2 to social status.

"All-American"

So we won't be "all-American." That can be a good thing. Take advantage of having multiple heritages to draw your identity from! Some people are so lacking in that regard that they're willing to pay lots of dumb money to go on expensive trips to India or Africa to imbue themselves with something other than plain old "American."

Yeah...

As for myself, I never answer this question glibly. I've spent most of my life in Canada, but almost nobody I know lives in the city I was born and raised in anymore (including my family), and I probably won't go back there except as a tourist. I've spent many of my most formative years in the U.S. as a student, but I'm not an American citizen or even a permanent resident. And I strongly identify as Korean because that's where my parents are from, but I've only lived in that country for a total of maybe only 3 years of my life.

Make of that as you will.

**********

I spent nearly 2 years in Korea and I have lots of memories. Yet still not lost in that clutter is that little moment in the dorm lobby with that foreigner girl who thought I was "so Korean." It still sticks with me vividly. I think it's because for some reason, I was elated over what she had said. There was once a time in my life when I would've been irritated if someone said something like that because I was "from Canada," and any recognition of my Koreanness was a threat to that. But not anymore. Something changed and I wanted to fit more into Korean society. And it was apparently working! Moreover, it wasn't just because I was in Seoul. Even back in America, I find myself ignoring Avicii and True Detective because I'm too busy listening to Korean music and watching K-dramas.

And when Harumi came back down, I had to smile at the thought that I might be the "expert" who'd have to show her around the city.