My Asian Fetish Test

The Asian fetish is a phenomenon that many Asian girls know well – non-Asian men who are obsessed with dating Asian girls. In the afterword to the 1988 play M. Butterfly, the writer, David Henry Hwang, using the term “yellow fever,” a pun on the disease of the same name, discusses white men with a “fetish” for Asian women. Hwang argues that this phenomenon is caused by stereotyping of Asians in Western society. Documentary filmmaker Debbie Lum explored the issue in her film Seeking Asian Female which was selected as “Best of Fest” at AFI – Discovery Channel / Silverdocs Film Festival and is now being aired through PBS.

We asked comedian Jenny Yang, a co-producer and performer on the first-ever all female, Asian American standup comedy tour, Dis/orient/ed Comedy, to give us her take on the Asian fetish. And she happily obliged.

My Asian Fetish Test

by Jenny Yang (jennyyang.tv @jennyyangtv)

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

When you are a straight, social justice-minded Asian American woman, dating isn’t just about finding romance. Oh, that’d be too easy. There’s also politics to consider. When I tried online dating a few years ago, I was ready.  I made the time to go on dates with complete strangers. It was even more of an adventure because this was also the first time that I was open to dating White guys.

Yup.  Before that, there was a strictly “No Whites” policy in THIS private country club. I liked seeing this very personal decision as a cosmic tipping of the racial justice scales back toward the side of righteousness, just ever so slightly.

The decision to be open to dating White guys came after a lifetime of dating only men “of color.” It’s not that I was never physically attracted to White men. (C’mon people. I AM brainwashed by American pop culture. I recognize the market value of Ryan Gosling’s brooding blue eyes. Gimme more credit than that.). I naturally socialized with people of color, and my racial politics as an Asian American and woman of color have always been very important to me.  Not considering White guys was a natural way for me to err on the side of compatibility.

I was at a point in my life where I was questioning a lot of the foundations of my identity. What exactly were the things that I was holding onto about myself that truly defined me? And did they involve any assumptions that were unfair or untested? Perhaps some of these beliefs were just walls I used to protect myself from growing as a human being?  Out of this, the idea that White guys wouldn’t be compatible with me as romantic partners became shaky.

So I thought, you know what? It was just a date. If there was chemistry, we figure out if we would cross that race bridge when we got there.  I had never been to that White bridge.  Is it shaky? Will I look to the other side and think, ooh, looks like a J. Crew catalog, and I really want to be there? Will I want to burn it down?  I knew so little about this bridge. If we could be friends with shared values and a deep understanding, I’d cross that bridge. If we were actually foes, then I would be the first to light the dynamite.

Lesson Learned: White Guy “Jim”

One guy in particular who helped me to figure out which kind of White guys I would not be willing to date was Jim (Duh. Not his real name).  Jim was pretty White.  Like, on the scale of stereotypical Whiteness, he was brown-haired, light eyes, SPF 70, six feet tall, skinny, everyday hiking shoes-wearing White.

The basic facts looked good so far: Jim was a music composer and built websites for a living. He worked from home and lived very close to where I lived. The sparks were not flying but, heck, I was letting things be for at least the first few dates if the conversation was intelligent. This was the new Jenny!  New Jenny had more mature dating criteria than “Do I want to jump his bones?”

Before I knew it, the third date was here.  The third date is when things get real isn’t it? Date three is when I usually follow up on deeper questions. Your profile unoriginally says that “you’re an easy-going guy who just likes to have fun” but you vigilantly re-adjust your napkins to lie parallel to the edge of the table. How many girlfriends have you have locked in your basement because they “failed to refill the Brita”?

We went on a hike in our neighborhood. The jury was out on how I felt about him. He was pretty much still a stranger.  Honestly, up until that point, I had only put him through the following introductory paces of an Asian Fetish filtering process that I was making up as I went along. I’m sure every Asian American woman’s tolerance levels are different. This was the Asian Fetish test I developed for myself. Perhaps this will work for you too!

1. Does he mention his travels to Asia or passionate love of Asian food or other superficial aspects of Asian culture within the first fifteen minutes of conversation?

If yes, do not pass go.  Jim? He passed.  However, he did mention later during our first date that he taught in Japan. Yeah. Teaching English in Japan. Classic. That should’ve tipped me off. But I allowed him to pass go because he wasn’t harping on it too much with glee and excitement in his eyes. Now I know better. Rookie mistake.

2. Does he try to pepper your conversation with greetings or words in the language of your heritage or heritage-adjacent?  

No. Jim didn’t do that, though he said at some point he took Chinese classes. Dangit, Jim. That’s a toss-up. “Everyone” is taking Chinese classes now that Americans are freaked out that China’s economy will take over the world. I let him pass because he didn’t try to “impress” me by demonstrating his Chinese skills.

He also didn’t ask me to pronounce my “real” name when he found out that “Jenny” wasn’t my birth name. Too many people did that. I went by Jenny for a reason. I didn’t like your clunky tongue messing up my beautiful name.  Don’t even try. You wouldn’t get it right. You’d be lucky if you learned my last name. We were strangers who met through an online dating website. You were getting “Jenny.”

I probably should’ve known at this point that he was already “too” into “Asian culture” for my taste. I knew there were other Asian American women who would’ve found this man’s interest in Asian culture super charming. I was not that gal.

However, this process was new for me and I didn’t know where I needed to draw the line quite yet. I hadn’t dated White guys before!  These were new and exotic creatures I needed to observe up close! I have only seen them out in the wild. Who knew if it was possible to find one domesticated enough for the newly-desegregated Jenny Yang country club? Therefore, I proceeded – with caution.

3. Would your presence in his life feel like you were just another exotic object being added to his extensive collection of Asian artifacts?

Well…

We finished the hike and swung by his place so that he could show me his vinyl records. It was an adorable single story house – clean, neutral and nice.  We walked past the samurai sword collection in the living room (uh oh) and straight to his bedroom to check out the records (I, of course, maintained my position in the doorway as to have a quick getaway if things got weird. I called that “street smarts.”)

While he rummaged through some crates, I looked up and saw an entire wall of Chinese calligraphy scrolls hanging above his bed. Holy crap! Even my own parents don’t put that stuff in their bedrooms. That’s pretty intimate, White boy. First the samurai swords and now this? Five seconds into the house tour and he had already doubled down on the Asian decor.

Listen. For my taste, the only dateable demographic that could legit have Chinese calligraphy scrolls hanging above their bed would’ve been the Asian gangster types. They’d rep their Asian-ness hward. So of course they’d rock the scrolls with pride. AZN PRYDE.  Also, maybe people who owned a Chinatown gift store and had problems with storage. That’s it. Those two types of people. For a hot second, I imagined Jim trying to play out an Asian fetish bedroom scene with him in a kung-fu outfit and me as a “sexy” masseuse with useless chopsticks in my hair. *shiver*

Warning. Shots fired from the White bridge. Friendly fire? Or real Asian Fetish adversary. Oh man. It wasn’t looking good.

I thought to myself, let’s get lunch as planned and be done with it. On our way out, I looked above the piano by the front door and noticed something odd. In the middle of a collage of family photos was a plaque from the professional composer’s association, ASCAP. On this plaque was a photo of Jim receiving an award and shaking the hands of an old important-looking White guy in a classic “grin and grip” pose and holy cow, what was Jim wearing?

In his proudest moment, there was Jim in a traditional, dark blue Chinese guy silk jacket. Yup. Straight up old school, Hong Kong-Jackie Chan kung fu jacket with ornate gold circles and dragons.

That’s when I knew: This is my line. Jim had crossed it. Enemy at the gates. I had to burn this bridge to Jim-land and quick. It was going to a land that I did not want to visit; a place where they just wanted me as a prop in their Asian fantasy re-enactments.

Let’s just say, I never got back to him.

I did get back to some other online dates who happened to be White guys and who shared my politics and didn’t make a big deal about my “culture.” In fact, I ended up dating my first “White guy” boyfriend in a committed relationship for a while. Though that relationship eventually ended, I was glad that I was more open to meeting a wider range of men. I learned more about myself and what I wanted out of a relationship.

Will I ever cross that bridge again? Probably not. It would take a very particular guy, much less White guy, to understand my politics and make me feel “at home.” Who knows? At the very least, my very own basic Asian Fetish test will always be handy. And I will certainly avoid dating any white guys who are more Asian than me.