All photos were taken by PacTies’ staff member Anna Chen.

Introduced in 2001 by Sens. Orrin Hatch (R-UT) and Richard Durbin (D-IL), the Development, Relief, and Education for Alien Minors (DREAM) Act would provide a path to citizenship for people brought to the U.S. at a young age. To be eligible for the DREAM Act, a person must have arrived in the United States at age 15 or younger, be 35 or younger, been present in the country for at least five years, attended high school, and completed at least two years of higher education or military service.

The DREAM Act passed the House of Representatives in 2010, and achieved a majority of votes in the Senate. However, it fell five votes short of achieving cloture, which would have allowed a simple yes-or-no vote on the measure.

The Center for American Progress used data from the American Community Survey from 2006 to 2010 in order to calculate the number of eligible unauthorized youth. Numbers were calculated using a model of likely education and job attainment of eligible DREAMers to estimate their future earnings. Factors considered in this model were education level, age, sex, race, and ethnicity.

The study found that passage of the DREAM Act would add $329 billion to the American economy by 2030. Cumulative gain in earnings by DREAMers is estimated to be about $148 billion, which will induce economic activity through spending, and generate an impact of $181 billion. This spending will support the creation of 1.4 million new jobs and $10.2 billion in tax revenue. Additionally, all of these quantitative estimates run conservatively and are expected to be much greater than what is shown.

The DREAM Act is often spoken of as a Latin@ issue, but it is something that also affects the Asian American and Pacific Islander community. Of the estimated 2.1 million undocumented people who are eligible for the DREAM Act, about 10 percent are Asian. In the UC System alone an estimated 45 percent of the 500-600 undocumented students are of Asian descent.

During a conference call with various publications, Angela Kelley, Vice President for Immigration Policy at CAP, called DREAMers “the new frontier of advocacy” when describing the work that they have done to advocate for the DREAM Act. Asian American DREAMers are politically active as well: at UCLA, Asian Students Promoting Immigrants Rights through Education (ASPIRE) advocates for the rights of API immigrants, particularly those who are undocumented.

The DREAM Act was reintroduced to the 112th Congress by Sen. Richard Durbin and Rep. Howard Berman (D-CA), but it has not yet come up for a vote.

Source

The event, which took place on September 15th at the Japanese American National Museum, honored two pioneers of the API LGBT movement: Tak Yamamoto and June Lagmay, who were both founders of Asian Pacific Lesbians and Gays (APLG), the first LGBT group for Asian Americans in L.A. API Equality-LA, an organization that works for the advocacy of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people in the Asian American/Pacific Islander community today, screened two documentaries about the activists. The documentaries were made as part of API Equality’s Pioneers Oral History Project, which aims to conduct interviews with the earliest API LGBT activists in Southern California, in order to preserve their histories.

“It’s important that [these activists’] contributions not be lost,” said Marshall Wong, co-chair of API Equality-LA. “[And] the other thing we want to make sure is that young Asian Americans [who] are growing up, sometimes questioning their sexual orientation and identity…don’t see the lesbian and gay community as being whitewashed, and that they actually see their own faces reflected in the history books that need to be written.”

Marshall Wong stands in front of JANM's National Center for the Preservation of Democracy

Trung Nguyen, a graduate student of Asian American Studies at UCLA, said, “The event was important because it was necessary to tell the stories of different Asian American pioneers, and it was great to hear from elders in the community.”

During the Q&A session that followed the documentary screening, Lagmay, who currently serves as the Clerk of the City of Los Angeles, said that APLG was anything and everything to the people in it, because it was the first time that they met other Asian Americans who identified as LGBT. According to Lagmay, it was important just to have a support network of people who understood the racial and cultural specifics of being LGBT and Asian American.

In 2005, after a series of anti-LGBT demonstrations led by Asian ministers, API Equality-LA was founded. Its founders felt the need to form an organization that would be able to address these anti-LGBT demonstrations. Wong, who was one of the founding members, said that API Equality’s mission is to outreach to communities that are insulated and do not receive much English-language news. Most of the people who live in these communities have had no exposure to LGBT people, so API Equality focuses on going to Lunar New Year parades and other cultural festivals in order to have one-on-ones with people.

Wong says he has seen change in the years since API Equality-LA was founded. In particular, he shared the story of meeting a family at one of the cultural festivals and speaking to the father, who did not believe in marriage equality. By the end of the conversation, though, the father said that he might think differently should marriage equality come up in the elections in two years.

Lagmay expressed the same optimism at the Q&A session after the documentary screening. Speaking of the way the API LGBT community has grown, not only in the range of sexual identities it is composed of, but in the ethnicities represented, she said, “Your diversity is your strength.” She held up a pomegranate that she had found in her garden that morning, and said that the diversity of the community was like the fruit: there were many different seeds contained within one membrane. Lagmay urged the new generation of API LGBT activists to use this diversity as their strength, in order to push for more change than the previous generation had.

The Pearl Harbor Attack was really what Roosevelt made it out to be: “a date which will live in infamy.” Immediately after the attack, President Franklin D. Roosevelt knew that serious action was required to provide national defense. Rumors spread here and there, entirely focused on Japanese Americans and their loyalty to Japan. The result was great fear amongst other Americans. In addition, the army and the navy pushed forth for internment and evacuation of all Japanese. Shortly after, President Roosevelt passed Executive Order 9066 and created military areas allowing the exclusion of anyone they felt harmful to the United States’ well-being. 1942 marked the beginning of the incarceration of more than 120,000 Japanese American to internment camps.

The traumatic event had a long lasting effect on all Japanese Americans spiritually, culturally, and psychologically. Professor Robert A. Nakamura, the associate director of UCLA’s Asian American Studies Center, was 6 years-old when he was incarcerated with his parents. When asked about the experience, he made observations about the traumatic experiences that all Japanese Americans faced. “All previous friendships deteriorated in the face of the enemy. Nisei, the second generation Japanese Americans, attempted to erase all memories of internment, only to find themselves becoming whiter than white.” They yearned for acceptance from the American community, and believed that this could only be done through denial of their past. Their main goal was to live a new and improved life where they could be accepted. In addition, they focused all their attention to schools and studies, but this was only a method of internalizing and avoiding the stress that came from such a traumatizing event.

The decision to eliminate this part of their history, however, was not possible. During the 1970s, the third generation Sansei made a strong effort to figure out their past and their history, as they worked to bring their community’s issues to America’s attention. It was not until 1988 that President Ronald Reagan signed an apology under the Civil Liberties Act to distribute $1.25 billion to all individuals who had been incarcerated. Although the process of appropriating the funds was extremely difficult, the president’s decision to sign the act represented a move towards Japanese American recognition in American history.

UCLA’s Nikkei Student Union, an on-campus organization formed with the mission of bringing awareness to Japanese American issues, also seeks to develop and improve the Japanese American community. Each year, Nikkei Student Union and its members attend the Manzanar Pilgrimage to learn more about the internment experience. NSU understands the importance for Asian Americans to see the impact of Executive Order 9066, not only for past generations, but future generations as well, who need to be informed of the past. The Manzanar Pilgrimage is one form of commemoration that helps students better understand the importance of Asian American history and identity. The pilgrimage consists of museum exploration, NSU performances, and a group discussion activity called Manzanar at Dusk.

This year marks the 43rd year of the annual Manzanar Pilgrimage. The number of people attending has grown and diversified. After September 11, Muslim Americans began to attend the event because they supported the commemoration of those who were interned. In addition, Shin Nisei Japanese Americans, or children of Japan-born parents who immigrated to the U.S. after World War II, continue to be active attendees of the pilgrimage because they see an importance in learning about the American experience. This year, more than 1000 people attended the pilgrimage.

Attending this event for 3 consistent years, NSU Shin Nisei members Hiromi Aoyama and Yuta Ebikawa share their experience about the pilgrimage. Aoyama was able to witness the diversity of the event, which gave her exposure to Japanese American history. “By going to Manzanar, I really did appreciate the status of [our] community today and being able to have an education.” The whole experience left her in shock, but overall, she developed a deeper understanding about its history and was genuinely more interested in it. Ebikawa emphasizes how important it is for the current generation to know about “the past and to prepare to fight any future threats.” He greatly cherishes the “space and opportunity to talk with other generations and hear their stories.” Both members continue to promote and encourage as many individuals to attend.

Manzanar Pilgrimate 2012. Photo by Kayla Asato.

This year, more than 40 members attended the pilgrimage. Besides the pilgrimage, Nikkei Student Union continues to provide all students with an opportunity to form their own community here at UCLA while preserving the history of Japanese Americans. Every year, NSU hosts their annual cultural night, which consists of dramas and performances by members. Through their performances, members are able to express their creativity while revealing important details about the Japanese American identity. Their hard work and achievements bring members together and give them the opportunity to learn more about themselves while bonding with the UCLA community.

By: Elaine Lieu

Source: http://www.iexaminer.org/community/being-khmerican/

The film did not disappoint.

Released in 1987, Full Metal Jacket can most easily be described in two parts. In the first half of the movie, Full Metal Jacket follows a group of marine recruits at Parris Island during the Vietnam War.

Ignoring the racial bigotry that does, in fact, exist in Hartman’s character, the first half of the film is actually an interesting examination of the effects of hazing and corporal punishment on recruits in the marines. It also examines the ways in which training for the marines emulates brainwashing and desensitization, resulting in a lack of empathy.

But the second half of the film, set in Vietnam, troubles and disturbs me. The first scene in Vietnam features a Vietnamese sex worker walking up to two war correspondents and proposing to them in a heavy Chinese accent: “Me so so horny. Me so horny. Me love you long time. Me sucky.”

The infamous moment in which Papillon Soo Soo says, "Me love you long time."

There we have the promiscuous API woman stereotype: the one in which the Asian woman wants to have sex, willing to do anything, with the white man. The stereotype has taken many forms, from Lotus Blossom to Miss Saigon.

What upsets me even more about this character, however, is that she is played by Papillon Soo Soo, who is half-Chinese and half-British! This casting decision only reinforces the idea that all Asian people are interchangeable with each other.

The rest of the film is peppered with other derogatory stereotypes and comments. In one instance, Sergeant “Animal Mother” reveals a dead North Vietnamese soldier, to which the war correspondent responds by taking pictures of the white soldier next to his dead body.

In interviews with the news crew, the soldiers say, “We’re supposed to be helping these people and they keep shitting on us.” There is no hesitation to throw around the racial slur that starts with a “g.” Another soldier conflates all the Vietnamese soldiers into one group: “I’m not real keen on some of these fellas that are supposed to be on our side. I keep meeting ‘em coming the other way.” And another: “We’re getting killed for these people and they don’t even appreciate it.”

None of these soldiers are Vietnamese soldiers. Throughout the film, the only voices that Full Metal Jacket presents are the voices of the U.S. soldiers.

The only times in which the Vietnamese seem to have a voice are when there is a sex worker involved, and the sniper at the end of the movie, who begs for a mercy killing. Undoubtedly, however, Full Metal Jacket reveals the one-sided bias of the Vietnam War, silencing the voices of the Vietnamese soldiers who were directly affected because of the destruction of their homeland.

A Vietnamese sex worker is presented to US soldiers for their enjoyment.

Full Metal Jacket is not the only war movie guilty of this, however. Most of the Vietnam War films released in the United States focus on the US perspective, choosing instead to discuss the effects of war on soldiers rather than the effects on the Vietnamese population.

This trend follows along with the nationalism and patriotism popular in every war the United States has ever participated in, of course. Instead of focusing on the “foreign” Vietnamese, it is in the best interest of Hollywood to focus on the experiences of those “on our side.” Patriotism draws in a wide range of audiences, from those who want to see a “glimpse” of what their loved ones might be experiencing to those who simply want to see violence actualized on the screen.

Full Metal Jacket simply attempts to do what every war movie attempts to do: demonstrate what war is “really like.” I admit that this is an honorable goal; the whole spectrum of media and art attempts to demonstrate what something is “really like.”

But the problem with Hollywood movies about Vietnam, and any other foreign country, is that they tend to freeze those countries in time. Instead of presenting Vietnam as an ever-changing country, with real people with real feelings and conflicts, Full Metal Jacket movies portray superficial stereotypes, spreading them to audiences everywhere.

Full Metal Jacket is considered a success among film critics. But it was also successful in mobilizing a stereotype, inspiring “me love you long time” jokes to this day, nearly twenty-five years later.

For a movie where one of the first lines is “There is no racial bigotry,” the movie has spread a lot of it.

Congratulations, Full Metal Jacket. The United States “loves you long time,” and sadly, perhaps always will.

Freezing Vietnam in time.

Filipino veteran at last November's rally. Photo courtesy of Michelle Lapitan

World War II conjures many words and places to mind: Pearl Harbor, Manzanar, the beach of Normandy, Hiroshima, perhaps even the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, the all-Japanese American team that emerged from the war as the most decorated regiment in the U.S. Armed Forces. Lesser known, however, are the Filipino and Filipino American veterans who also fought alongside the U.S. Army. Among these veterans–or veteranos, as they are referred to in Tagalog–was Stephanie Uy’s grandfather, who joined the U.S. army. Because the Philippines was a commonwealth of the U.S. before and during WWII, Uy’s grandfather (and other Filipino soldiers), was legally an American national, and was promised citizenship and veterans’ benefits. When the war ended, however, Uy’s grandfather received neither. The Rescission Act of 1946 denied Filipino veterans these benefits, claiming that the U.S. had already paid two hundred million dollars to the Philippines after the war. Today, the Filipino veterans remain not only uncompensated, but unrecognized as well.

Stephanie Uy, a fourth year Asian American Studies major and Urban Planning minor at UCLA, didn’t know about the Filipino veterans’ role in WWII, or the denial of their benefits, until she came to college. Although her grandfather would always tell her stories about his involvement in the war, Uy says that she “never really put it together” until she came to UCLA and joined Samahang Pilipino. Through Samahang, she learned about Justice for Filipino Veterans (JFAV), a national organization that campaigns for Filipino veterans’ benefits. JFAV was formed through People’s CORE–a non-profit organization that seeks to train the Asian Pacific Islander community in advocacy–in 1998, and began campaigning in 2000.

Although JFAV is a national organization, it is centered in Los Angeles, because that is where the movement for Filipino veterans’ benefits started. Every year, there is a rally and a march that begins in Historic Filipinotown, a march that includes not only the Filipino veterans and members of the JFAV campaign, but other college students as well. According to Arturo Garcia, the national coordinator for JFAV, the campaign seeks to do grassroots outreach and connect with different communities, from college students to immigrants’ rights groups. Uy was not able to attend the rally her first year at UCLA, but has attended every year since, and urges her friends to go.

People marching in the JFAV rally last November. Photo courtesy of Michelle Lapitan.

Michelle Lapitan, a fourth year Asian American Studies Major and Community Projects Coordinator for Samahang Pilipino, also participated in the march this past November. She drove the veterans who were unable to walk in the rally. When asked about the experience, she said, “I was really happy to be with the veterans because I was just hearing about how they felt, how they wanted just to be recognized for the work that they did. It seems like such a little thing to be recognized for the work that they did, but it’s taken them so long.” Lapitan said that it was also inspiring to see so many different Filipino organizations at the rally, because they were all so passionate for a cause that affects them all.

For Uy and Lapitan, involvement in JFAV is not only about compensation for the veterans, but about recognition for the work that they did as well. The lack of knowledge about Filipino veterans’ involvement in WWII is reflective of the general lack of knowledge about Filipino contribution to U.S. history in general, according to Lapitan. This lack of recognition hurts, and is even infuriating. Uy says, “I was pretty pissed off [when I found out about the veterans]. And then to make that personal connection…[that] my grandpa was denied his own benefits, I was really angry. I was really compelled to learn more about struggle and to get people involved.”

In 2009, the U.S. government issued a lump sum to Filipino veterans who were still alive. Filipino American veterans received $15000 each, while Filipino veterans in the Philippines received only $9000 each. Arturo Garcia says that JFAV “did not go for the lump sum” for various reasons, including the disparity between the amount paid to Filipino American veterans versus Filipino veterans. Family members of deceased Filipino veterans also could not file the paperwork in order to apply for posthumous benefits. In order to claim the lump sum, Filipino veterans had to waive all rights to future payments. Currently, JFAV is lobbying for H.R. 210, or the Filipino Veterans Fairness Act of 2011. H.R. 210 would repeal the Rescission Acts of 1946 and invalidate the “quit claim” provision of the lump sum, making the veterans eligible for benefits such as a lifetime monthly pension.

The JFAV campaign is even more more urgent now, as many of the Filipino veterans have passed away, including Uy’s grandfather, whom she never had a chance to talk to about her involvement in JFAV. As these veterans pass away, it is not only the momentum of JFAV that is threatened, but the knowledge of the veterans’ involvement, a piece of U.S. history that may be forgotten permanently.

This article was written in response to The Hunger Games movie casting choices. Although the casting choices do not affect the API community specifically, the novels and movie comprise a narrative about violence and the way it is employed in order to oppress groups of people, and PacTies wanted to cover the implications of casting a white actor in a role that many fans envisioned for a person of color. This article is a companion piece to staff writer Carol Lee’s, who takes a brighter look at the movie itself.

Among many fans (and I’ll be honest: I’m one of them), The Hunger Games book trilogy is often lauded as an important narrative about systemized oppression and the violence inherent in those systems. However, the movie itself has come under criticism for its casting, and has revealed the problems inherent in another system where actors of color are often barred from accessing major roles in Hollywood.

When the casting calls for The Hunger Games came out, they called specifically for white actors to play the role of Katniss, who is described as having gray eyes and olive skin in the novel. “Olive skin” does not necessarily mean a person of color, but neither does it necessarily mean white. Racebending, a grassroots organization that advocates for fair media representation for people of color, repeatedly called on Lionsgate to open the casting call to more than just “Caucasian” actors, but Lionsgate did not change the description on the casting call, and on March 17th, 2011, Jennifer Lawrence was announced for the role of Katniss.

People of color have been historically underrepresented in Hollywood movies, as demonstrated in a 2006 UCLA study, and the reasons have ranged from “There are no talented actors of color” to “People won’t pay to see a person of color as the main character.” According to Sarah Mesle, a professor of English at UCLA, “When there’s big money on the line, things get conservative.” The Hunger Games trilogy has a large fan base, which means there was potential for it to generate a lot of money. Which, not so surprisingly, it did: The Hunger Games grossed $152.5 million its opening weekend, making it the most profitable nonsequel, nonsummer movie.

From the 2006 UCLA study "Hollywood’s Race/Ethnicity and Gender-Based Casting: Prospects for a Title VIIII Lawsuit"

But making money is hardly an excuse to ignore diversity in casting, and the doll test has shown that African American children often internalize negative images of themselves, which can be easy to do when they don’t see heroes like them on the big screen. As an Asian American woman growing up without many Asian Americans in the media, I also learned that the only heroes are white heroes.

The most concerning thing for me about casting Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss, though, is the way that that changes the dynamic between Katniss and Rue. In the movies, Rue is played by Amandla Stenberg. Had Katniss been played by an actress of color, the dynamic between the two would have been unprecedented in Hollywood films: two women of color working together in an oppressive system that aims for the opposite of that. Instead, their partnership, and Katniss’ subsequent act of defiance by covering Rue’s body with flowers, takes on an uncomfortable connotation of the white savior. The “white savior” trope is a common Hollywood trope wherein a white character comes into the life of people of color, or a group of oppressed people, and helps “liberate” them. If Katniss had been played by a woman of color, then it would have been a woman of color standing against a system of oppression–and systems of oppression in real life often affect people of color the most. However, because Katniss is played by Jennifer Lawrence, the movie simply joins the rank of other white savior films such as Gran Torino and The Help.

Amandla Stenberg as Rue from The Hunger Games. Copyright Lionsgate.

The implications of the white savior complex are more far-ranging than just movies, too. It often manifests itself in real-life events such as the recent “Stop Kony 2012″ campaign to raise awareness about indicted war criminal Joseph Kony, the leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army in Uganda. The campaign was started by the organization Invisible Children, and spread rapidly through the internet. However, it was quickly revealed that Invisible Children’s facts were wrong: Kony has gone into hiding, and he is no longer the threat that he used to be. And the real problem with the Stop Kony 2012 campaign, as writer Teju Cole pointed out in an editorial, was that it was a symptom of what he calls the white savior industrial complex.

The effects of media are felt deeply in real life, particularly the lives of children of color who consume T.V. shows and movies that rarely, if ever, show them that they too can be heroes. The Hunger Games could have changed that, but unfortunately, it only reinforced the age-old idea that the only kind of hero out there is a white hero. As fellow PacTies member Carol Lee says in her reflection on The Hunger Games, I can only hope that the casting of future characters in the movie franchise will be more diverse.

More reading:
Carol Lee’s “The Hunger Games: American Archetype”
“But she’s a talented actress!” (a case study)