youre gonna make a biopic abt anna may wong, who left america because they werent offering her substantial roles who was passed over for playing a chinese woman in the good earth in favour of a yellowfaced katherine hepburn
Feel free to correct me if im wrong, but your upset because because they cast a chinese woman instead of a chinese american?
I dont know…maybe its just me, but in my opinion thats about as bad as getting upset over casting a british person to play an american, or something of that nature.
Then again, maybe im just an uneducated fuckwit.
so i mean i’m glossing over a lot of anna may wong’s life here, but her entire career was full of disappointments because she was too “chinese” for hollywood and too “american” for china. she found fame in europe where they were fascinated by her chinese looks and american personality, both of which were “exotic” and glamorous to european audiences. she dedicated her later career to denouncing the negative views of chinese women in american culture. she’s become an icon and heroine to chinese and asian americans as a symbol of our specific histories of suffering in america. there’s a statue dedicated to her in hollywood. she’s a chinese american legend. her story is exactly one of the lack of opportunities afforded to asian american actors even still to this day. so yeah, not only is it fucking disappointing that an incredibly important chinese american figure is not being played by a chinese american, it’s also pretty hypocritical. you obviously have no fucking idea what anna may wong means to chinese america so please stop editorializing on something that has nothing to do with you.
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“Why can’t you be like other girls, and care more about how you look? No man will ever want you,” she lamented, when I showed no interest in make-up.
“I will kill myself if you don’t do what I say,” she threatened, waving a kitchen knife around, in an argument about curfew.
"You need to talk to your father about not sleeping with other women. If you can’t stop him then he is going to get AIDS and then he will give it to me and then you will be an orphan," she said, when I was twelve.
“I will pay for surgery to get your nose and eyelids fixed,” she offered, even though I didn’t care about my mismatched eyes and my perfectly functional nose.
“You must go on the pill because I don’t trust you not to get ‘carried away’ and have sex,” she demanded, when I started dating, even though I had no intention of having sex at the time.
“Have you lost any weight?” she asked, each time she called on the phone in lieu of “hello.”
“Why don’t you quit school and take better care of your husband and your home?” she asked, after a lifetime of demanding academic achievement.
“What did you do?” she asked accusingly, when I told her my marriage was ending.
“There is something wrong with your personality. You’re too much like your father.” she declared, to explain why my marriage ended.
“I had you because I thought it would make your father want to be at home more,” she said, as though that wasn’t selfish and incredibly hurtful.
“Doesn’t your husband/boyfriend/fiance mind if you travel without him?” she asked, and continues to ask.
During a severe bout of major depression after the end of my marriage, I decided I needed space from her toxicity, as she had reacted exactly as I predicted: she blamed me. First she asked if I was cheating. Then she asked if I had failed to “take care” of him and the household sufficiently. Then she asked if it was because he resented my education, my independence. Then she cried and made it all about her. This all happened within half an hour.
After a few days of this self-centred diatribe, I told her not to contact me until she heard otherwise. Instead of respecting my boundaries, she emailed and called relentlessly. When I didn’t reply or pick up the phone, she progressed to ask other members of my family that I was close to, some of whom lived overseas, to plead on her behalf. One by one they contacted me. One by one they heard my side of the story, and understood why I needed that space for my own well-being. Most of them apologized for getting involved. More than a year later, when I allowed her (cautiously), back in my life, she accused me of being cruel:
“How could you not speak to me for a year? How could you do that to your own mother?” she said, sobbing. In a Thai restaurant.
She never understood that her behaviour was/is problematic. She never accepted that her words, regardless of intent, were hurtful. From the time I was a teenager, right up to the present, she was and can still be abusive.
Only through intensive psychotherapy did I realize how much of her toxicity I internalized. I blamed myself for things I had no control over. I felt guilty about everything, and whenever I managed to get the guilt got under control I would feel guilty that I didn’t feel guilty enough. I had to learn how to love myself without constantly using guilt and self-deception. I had to learn how to stop talking to myself abusively, inside my own head. I had to teach myself something everyone should know about themselves right from the beginning: that we are worthy of being treated with love and respect.
It didn’t help that the people I confided in rarely believed me. When I was younger, people would say, “all teenagers fight with their parents.” When I got older, people would say, “she just doesn’t know how to say ‘I love you.’” When she asked about my weight, people would say “she’s just concerned about your health.” Sometimes they would attribute her abuse to misunderstandings due to language (she is ESL, but so am I, and although it is not my primary language anymore I am still fluent in Cantonese). “It’s a generation/culture-gap,” people told me. “A mother would never hurt her child intentionally,” some said, especially those who were mothers themselves.
That was all bullshit. That’s people’s internalized ageism, fatphobia, racism, and idealized ideas about parenthood masquerading as explanations for my mother’s verbally-abusive behaviour. It’s straight up denial. Sexism and her perception that I should only exist for others (whether as a prop in her relationship with my father, or as a domestic worker for my partners) guided her words. I often wished she had hit me instead, because I figured it was harder for people to explain away a bruise or a cut. I want all those people who ever excused her behaviour to know that, even though they may have never spoken with her directly, that their words and excuses enabled her abuse, and that by not believing me they gave her more power to hurt me. They may have had the best of intentions, but my mother believes she has nothing but the best of intentions too.
Many people won’t believe you, when you tell them your mother’s words burn like fire and tear you to pieces and leave you scarred on the inside. But there are people out there who will believe you. I know, because I believe you. It’s not your fault. I know, because it wasn’t my fault either.
A new eatery on a busy stretch of Toronto’s Yonge Street is hoping to teach curious diners about some of the challenges deaf people face daily.
Signs, which had its soft opening Tuesday evening, is staffed mostly with deaf servers. Patrons at the restaurant are encouraged to order their food and drink using a sign language cheat sheet included with the menu.
The restaurant’s owner, Anjan Manikumar, says his establishment will likely introduce many people to some of the basics of American Sign Language.
Signs Restaurant and Bar is the first restaurant in Canada to join a growing movement to raise awareness of the hearing impaired. (Signs Restaurant / Facebook)
"They will enjoy learning sign language," Manikumar told CTV Toronto. "They’ll make some mistakes, they’ll have fun — so it creates an experience for the guests."
The restaurant — billed as the first of its kind in Canada — also hopes to help an underemployed segment of the population.
"I think this is one of the largest breakthroughs we’ve seen in our community in a long time," he said. "We probably have 35 staff (members) working in one place…that’s huge for our community."
In Canada, approximately five per cent of Canadians 15 years of age and older have some form of hearing loss, according to Statistics Canada data collected in 2006. Of that population who were surveyed, the agency says 6.5 per cent of them believed they were refused a job due to their hearing loss, while three per cent say they were refused a promotion.
Chandni Sugrim, one of the servers who work at Signs, says although she has never worked in a restaurant, teamwork with his coworkers seem to come naturally.
"It feels like we’re a family unit. It’s really easy to understand each other," Sugrim said. "Teamwork comes really easily."
The restaurant also employs a team of hearing hostesses for sign language novices. It joins a growing international trend in raising awareness of the deaf community through sign language menus. Similar establishments exist in San Francisco, San Antonio and Paris.
Signs, located at 558 Yonge St., near Wellesly Street East, will officially open to the public next week.
I just started this blog as a safe space for Chinese women to share their experiences, connect with one another, vent and be heard and of course submit photos of themselves!
I am sick of seeing Chinese women being fetishized on Tumblr and I’ve also noticed that Chinese women are often glossed over in discussions of feminism and racism. This blog is an attempt to fill in this gap and give Chinese women a place online.
You are welcome to follow this blog if you are not a Chinese woman. However, you are not welcome if you are here because you have a fetish for us. You will be blocked and reported if you are a fetish blog.
Cheers! And I look forward to connecting with all you beautiful people.
The world is so small these days that it’s hard to imagine being the first of your people to visit a foreign country that you’ve had no real contact with or know nothing about. But back in 1834, the idea of an Asian woman coming to America would have been akin to someone today visiting a newly discovered alien civilization on another planet. Yet, that’s what it must have felt like for Afong Moy whom history has recorded as the first Chinese (and most likely first “Oriental”) woman to set foot on U.S. soil. But the circumstances under which Moy became a pioneer was not the most pleasant one.
In 1832, American traders Nathaniel and Frederick Carne made their first trip to China. Up to that point, they had made their fortune importing items from France but realized there was an untapped market in the Orient they could exploit. Their search led them to China where they started to import fancy, but affordable Chinese goods that the growing American middle-class population could afford.
The Carne brothers were also showmen, always searching for ways to better market their business to the public. And they hit upon the ultimate marketing ploy when they decided to go one step farther and import a real live Chinese woman to America for the first time.
On October 17, 1834, the cargo ship Washington under the command of a Captain Obear sailed into New York harbor with a bevy of goods from the mysterious Orient including what the New York Daily-Advertiser described as “a beautiful Chinese lady, called Juila Foochee ching-chang king, daughter of Hong wang-tzang tzee king. As she will see all who are disposed to pay twenty five cents. She will no doubt have many admirers.”
The first Chinese woman in America was not only exotic and regal (the supposed daughter of royalty) but she would be little more than a circus attraction; no better than an animal at a zoo that people would pay money to see. The Carne brothers changed her name to the easier-to-pronounce Afong Moy and rented an exhibition hall where the public could observe this strange woman with freakishly tiny (bound) feet. Newspapers described her as 19-years-old (though her age would fluctuate in different accounts), four feet ten inches tall, dressed in her “national costume” and with feet that were only four inches in length due to having worn “iron shoes” throughout her childhood.
Moy immediately became the talk of the town with newspapers reporting most likely fabricated details such as how she had “burst into a fit of laughter” upon seeing a left-handed person since such a thing didn’t exist in China to how the sound of a gun being fired at a rally scared her so much that she ran away.
The Carne brothers decorated the exhibit hall with artifacts and other items from China. They told reporters that they wanted to display Moy in her “natural environment,” but no doubt it wasn’t a coincidence that those were the very items they were importing from China to sell and that their business increased as a result of the popularity of the exhibition.
Moy went on display on November 6, 1834 and the public could see the Chinese woman from the hours of 10 AM-2 PM or 5 PM to 9 PM. Spectators witnessed such exotic things as Moy eating with chopsticks and speaking Chinese. There was even a Q & A session where people could ask her questions through an interpreter. Every few minutes she would be ordered to walk around the room with her bound feet.
Not everyone was impressed with the exhibit and recognized its exploitative nature. The New York Mirror published a full editorial explaining why it would not cover the exhibit: “We have not been to see Miss Afong Moy, the Chinese lady with the little feet; nor do we intend to perform that universal ceremony, unless we should find the notoriety which the non-performance must occasion inconveniently burdensome… . The lovely creatures were made for anything but to be stared at, for half a dollar a head.”
Still, none of the newspapers, regardless of how sympathetic they were to her situation, bothered to interview Moy herself. I’ve searched to find more details about her life, but not much is known about who she was, her past history (the Carne brothers’ claims that she was a “Chinese princess” were most likely bogus) or even what her real name was.
How must she have felt to not only be the first Chinese woman in this strange land, but to have earned that title while being treated like a sideshow oddity? And this was also during a time when there were very few Asians in America at all, let alone women. The first big wave of Chinese immigrants didn’t arrive until the California Gold Rush and that was still 15 years in the future.
Not much more is known about her life in America either. According to records, she toured the United States between 1834-1847. The following advertisement from the July 9, 1836 issue of the New York Times suggests this appearance at Peale’s Museum would be her last:
Although much of the details of her life are lost to history, Moy’s status as a pioneer who boldly went where none like her had gone before earns her the status of Original Offender.
Japanese artist Rokudenashiko was arrested after turning her vagina selfie into a 3-D printed “pussy boat” and sending the scans to her supporters from a crowdfunding campaign. Police said that sending the scans (which could be used to 3-D print more vagina selfies) breaks Japan’s obscenity laws.
The Guardian reports that the artist, whose real name is Megumi Igarashi, could face up to two years in jail or a fine of about $24,500 if convicted. Rokudenashiko has denied the allegations and questioned why the scans are being called obscene. She explains her vagina-themed art this way: “I wanted to make pussy more casual and pop.”
I wanted to make pussy more casual and pop. That’s how I came to make a pussy lampshade, a remote-controlled pussy car, a pussy accessary, a pussy smartphone case, and so on. … However, mold by hand has the limitation. … [It’s] not suitable for making large art pieces such as a pussy door, a pussy car, or a pussy boat. I was wondering how I can make it possible, and then I finally found that 3D scanner can make it happen easily!
Rokudenashiko did make the boat, and she’s committed to continuing her art. “Pussy has been such a taboo in the Japanese society,” she writes. “Penis, on the other hand, has been used in illustrations and signed as a part of pop culture. But pussy has never been so cute.”
How do you gather your resources for determining what is and what is not Japan? Like you aren't Japan. You are a human, I think. How many Japanese people must agree with you on what is and is not Japan? 5, 10, 100, 500, 1000000? How do you gather these opinions? Do you send out surveys, look another peoples surveys, or just assume? I really don't care for Japanese pop culture and I just want to make sure what I can joy without risking emulating Japan.