The Remasculation of Asian American Men

It’s about time we dropped stereotypes and this article focuses on the outlandish misrepresentation of Asian American men. Unless you feel they somehow support your view of the world to see Asian American Men as inferior or counter to your objectives, there really is no need to continue the narrative.

I grew up within a white dominant society in the Midwest. I think most Asian Americans share the same story. “I was the only asian kid and had to fit in to the dominant (white) culture to survive.” At some point, I decided I didn’t really care to “fit in,” but rather chose to live my own life. To me, conformity was not the answer and I believe it’s what makes me continually look at things from alternate perspectives.

I never trusted the messages I got from television and now the internet. I never saw my masculinity as anything less than anyone else’s, so why should I buy the inaccurate and culturally biased beliefs perpetuated by the media from Pretty in Pink or Bruce Lee movies.

Granted, I sort of now fit the profile of the typical asian martial artist and have admired Bruce Lee and his contemporaries since the 70s, no matter what their ethnicity. However, I am a martial artist and not an asian martial artist in the same way that Chuck Norris is not a white martial artist.

Asian men have historically been emasculated in America because of their sexual status when they immigrated to the United States. Enclaves of bachelor communities, primarily in West Coast cities like San Francisco, were created and these all-male groups contributed to the public perception that Asian men were sexually deficient, a central aspect of their emasculation.

In America, we can never be too certain that society has not been shaped by the very legislation that keeps it that way. Because of xenophobic immigration laws, such as the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, and racist attitudes and laws against interracial relationships, Asian men were condemned to be viewed as outsiders, sexless, and perpetually foreign to the dominant heterosexual white American male status. This can be no further than the truth for many Asian Americans who have continually fought to counter this status.

In the 1930s, Filipino men moved to the United States to work as laborers. After work, they frequented taxi halls where they defied racist laws by dancing with white women. In response to the dancing, they were viewed as sexually promiscuous and threatening to white men who formed Filipino “hunting parties” where Filipino men were regularly taken out of taxi halls and beaten. The mere possibility of Asian American sexuality was so threatening that white Americans used violence to aid in its suppression.

Many Chinese immigrants, after decades of building the rail system in America, could not find labor and were forced to open restaurants, corner stores, and dry cleaners for work. The male Chinese restaurant owner turned into a widely common means of employment as we see it today in America. However, the emasculation of Asian American men was further substantiated by laborers who were now cooking, cleaning, and washing clothes, activities that were traditionally done by women in America.

In the 1920s and 1930s, Hollywood perpetuated the threatening Asian American male role by casting white men to act like Asian super villains who were, paradoxically, portrayed as both a sexual threat and physically weak and asexual individuals. This narrative lived throughout Hollywood until Bruce Lee broke out onto the scene in the late 60s and early 70s. Still, the narrative and history was deep. Asian men were not to be trusted and now they might just kick your ass if you’re not careful.

Today, the stereotype continues, although there has been a slow onslaught of television and Netflix shows that have attempted to challenge the racist and discriminatory ideas society has seen for over a century. Having been ostensibly oppressed for over a hundred years, the results are ingrained in our society to not view Asian American men as high status or even male. It’s not like we are mystical unicorns. We are humans who live, breathe, and enjoy all the same media and entertainment that subsumes we are less applicable to society than others demographics in America. But, it’s all led me to cherish the things about me that are uniquely Asian and infinitely mine.

I’m here to state I’ve never bought into the narrative, but why should I? I am an American man born in Minneapolis in the 1970s who was born to two Filipino immigrants from the 1960s. History and legislation has such a powerful skewed effect on how we view entire demographics. My family moved to this country during the racial injustice and civil rights movement era. African Americans were leading the cause to dismantle their hundreds of years of racial oppression. I joined in on the movement early as a young warrior and today still fight for equal rights and equity for all Americans.

This is why I don’t accept, trust, or believe anyone who claims that we live in a post-racist society. Racism is not over and the hundreds of years of suffering and oppression cannot be erased. Although I see striving for equity as more important than demanding reparation, I can also forgive, but never forget.

So, next time you see that unicorn of an Asian American male, please don’t fret. He is not trying to steal your girlfriend or your job at the factory, but he probably could. Years of oppression and victimization from adversity can forge an undemanding resilience and increase one’s desire to succeed far beyond entitlement. For this Asian American male it certainly has and most definitely will continue to grow and flourish.