To be Blasian and “Exceptional”
“The fact that people like Ariana Miyamoto (Miss Universe Japan 2015) and Naomi Osaka (tennis player) are referred to by Japanese media as “Japanese”. And their mixedness something that is mentioned in passing or put at the end, that kind of ticks me off a bit. The fact that if you are successful you have to accept your role as a Japanese person, but if you’re not successful they sort of just ignore you or they’re just aghast that you’re not fully Japanese. That sort of rubs me the wrong way. I’m not really sure what would be a better way would be to introduce them. Like, would we always have to introduce them as someone who is half Japanese and half something else? I don’t know.”–Wataru Chigeru Miyazaki
Blasians are held to an impossible standard: having an existence that is supposed to “end racism” in society, but also proving authenticity in both (or many) cultures, often minimizing blackness. To be an “exceptional” representation of one’s culture–in order to be considered legitimate– is not only unique to celebrities or in homogenous nations like Japan. The US–which prides itself on diversity– has long deemed whiteness as “American” and non-white as “other”. Anti-blackness within Asian communities–and the hierarchy between East Asians and South/Southeast Asians)–is further perpetuated in the model minority myth. The model minority myth also pits Asians as a whole against African Americans and Latinx groups (Specifically East Asian groups as hardworking and African American and Latinx groups as lazy). Physical appearance and merit has long been measured by the level of Asianness or Blackness.
Naturally, I can’t speak for every Blasian experience, but my own. Being an “exceptional” representation of my Filipino/Asian Americaness is a mentality that has permeated throughout all facets of my life and is difficult to break away from. The question of “If I told you I was half, would you accept me as full?” is a question that has dominated my interactions particularly within Asian/Asian American spaces.
I grew up ashamed of being half Black. Black is connoted with negative attributes. At most, my blackness is performative and limited: celebrated for “uniqueness”, but also heightened otherness that should be compensated for. My hair was made fun of by my classmates and complimented for when it was straight. I can’t express my anger without being tied to the trope of the angry black woman. Having high academic performance has also been linked to my Asianness, whereas my Blackness linked to incompetence. I often have to mention that I’m half Filipino, in order to be allowed to participate in Asian American spaces and conversations. My Filipinoness has been a seal of approval to friends’ parents that I was “harmless”. In trying to look “Asian enough”, gaining authenticity through aesthetic and beauty is a neverending hell. I grew up wishing to look different because perhaps I would not have to fight for my right to exist in the “western imaginary” of Asianness.
I can write an entire thesis about this issue (and probably will, if I follow through with my PhD plan). Having grown up associating mainly with my Filipino culture and feeling a great disconnect from my African American culture poses many grey areas and contradictions. The fact that the only way I’ve been able to make (some) sense of myself through academia is both inspiring and depressing. I find myself engulfed in an academic language that is not always accessible. It’s difficult to write about because it’s personal and easily misunderstood. Concepts like Racialized hierarchy, western imaginary and transnationalism were neither in my vocabulary nor within my reach. When antiblackness and colorism are already ingrained in a community that is already marginalized, it’s more challenging to call out, as if this problem shouldn’t exist. To feel lonely in a group of people feels worse than being alone.
But lately, I haven’t felt so terrible. I find myself in more spaces where I feel accepted as I am. Seeing other Blasians who do talk about colorism in their communities is empowering: they voice all that I couldn’t.
Citation Link
https://www.facebook.com/diasporajapan/