The Intersectionality of Queerness and Asian-Americanness in Individual Identities
Introduction
Queer Asian-American experiences are often overlooked and pushed to the side in favor of others with more socially acceptable experiences. The sheer significance of their voices is not often recognized, but it is necessary to listen to their experiences to begin to gain an understanding of not only queer Asian-American struggles but to understand how race and queerness are separated in the public eye even though there is an inherent racialization to intimacy. The book, The Feeling of Kinship: Queer Liberalism and the Racialization of Intimacy, by David L. Eng dives into the importance of these experiences, explores how these experiences are overlooked and searches for an answer as to why they are. Current queer liberalism supports “the forgetting of race and the denial of racial difference” meaning that it opposes “a politics of intersectionality” and resists acknowledging “the ways in which sexuality and race are constituted in relation to one another, each often serving to articulate, subsume, and frame the other’s legibility in the social domain” (Eng, 4). Queer liberalism is often blind or acts as if it is blind to the crossover between race and queerness which pushes the narrative that queerness has to be the singular thing that defines an individual or it is not a part of their identity at all. This colorblind outlook may not necessarily seem entirely bad on the surface, but it is just the “latest installment in this historical narrative of freedom and progress” and does not really represent actual progress in terms of race and racism (Eng, 11). Asian-Americans are always at war with the concept of being “othered” and not being seen as entirely American but also not being seen as entirely of their Asian heritage. The situation often shifts with which side they align with more depending on what society chooses and thinks favors them more, and the separation of one’s queerness from their race adds another layer that leads to a very unique and complex interpretation of oneself. Eng looks to queer diasporas as a way to “explore contemporary Asian Movements in the global system” through a “lens of queerness, affiliation, and social contingency” (Eng, 13). This is all with the intention to offer “a critique of modernity and its forgetting of race that calls attention to unauthorized subjects and to unacknowledged structures of feeling beyond an empirical tradition of liberal rights and representation” (Eng, 15). This turn to diasporas does not only pertain to Asian-Americans, but it serves as proof that we need to look at these experiences because the realities of them counter the idea that queerness does not have any ties to one’s race or other aspects of their identity. The removal of key components of someone’s individuality only allows for these warped versions of their experiences to be what people believe instead of looking and trying to understand the multifaceted lives of those with intersectional identities.
Society’s view of queerness and the expression of queer identities is one that is both polarizing and brews controversy worldwide. The constant battle for the freedom of expression and the ability to live one’s life without societal condemnation is one that has not ceased, but this fight for rights is a fight that has its own boundaries and guidelines for how it should look. The battle to express oneself freely is ironically a battle that finds itself pushed into its own box of how it should look and who is the sole model for this fight. The very boxes that queer individuals are laboring to break somehow create further molds for what their identities should be; these new molds manage to exclude everyone that does not fit into them making the fight for rights a singular unrepresentative battle instead of one that is all-encompassing. Queer individuals that are a part of other minority groups often find themselves being forced entirely into one label or the other, and they aren’t allowed to be seen for the entirety of their identity as a human being. The humanity of individuals with intersectional identities is often stripped away to allow society to place them in whatever label they see fit even if it ignores the vast majority of the individual’s identity and produces a limited and one-sided perception of who they are as a person.
Homonationalism
Homonationalism warps the way queerness is seen by society and is responsible for how specific versions of queer identities are placed into more “acceptable” boxes and it dictates what groups do and do not get to partake in the “right” way to be queer. Homonationalism is a “brand of homosexuality that operates as a regulatory script not only of normative gayness, queerness, or homosexuality, but also of the racial and national norms that reinforce these sexual subjects” (Puar, 2). Homonationalism forges a connection between the “right” way to be homosexual with the “global dominant ascendancy of whiteness” and a deep and strong sense of American nationalism (Puar, 2). This conflates the restricted vision of “ideal” homosexuality with the idea that being a white American is far superior to all other races and nationalities. Homonationalism doesn’t only create strict boundaries surrounding queerness, but it plays into large issues surrounding racism, racial identities and the treatment of queerness outside of the United States. Homonationalism rationalizes the concept of American superiority by arguing that because America is seemingly more tolerant and accepting of queerness than other countries that it must be superior to them, and the ideal American experience of queerness is the only one that deserves to be portrayed and given a voice. This invalidates the experiences and voices of Americans of different races, those of different races outside of America and those of different nationalities altogether and forces society to turn away from them and focus on the one voice that homonationalism actively promotes. This makes the queer experience not about an all-encompassing and accepting one that listens to all but rather one that focuses on one group and ignores all others in return.
The Queer Asian-American Experience in Literature
Queer Asian-Americans are one of many minority groups that find themselves fighting to be seen for the totality of their identity, and they are also constantly in a battle to be able to be recognized for their individual specific struggles with their queerness that do not necessarily adhere or align with homonationalism’s fixed idea of queerness. The fact that they are not white Americans causes their stories to be placed on the backburner to the stories that homonationalism labels as more important only because they are told by white Americans. They are also often forced to choose to be represented by their Asian-Americanness or queerness, but never both. Therefore, the unique experience of being Asian-American and queer is often overlooked along with the way this experience manifests itself in literature by authors or characters that share those two components in their identity.
The chaos of constantly grappling with society about your own identity and dealing with the internalized feelings that result from society’s opinions about your identity seems to manifest in the literature that ties together the elements of being both Asian-American and queer. Queer Asian-American literature is often violent, chaotic and the “queer Asian North American protagonists are lucky simply to survive” and the basis of their survival is those around them that are not members of their family (Sohn, 3). The path to improvement in these stories is full of “incredible trials, physical harm and antagonistic forces” and in some cases things do not progress or improve (Sohn, 3). These stories often seem to encapsulate the negative and dark feelings surrounding the confusion one has about themselves. The model minority myth pops up to describe sexual and racial differences and it describes sex as if it is just “a mechanism for parents to replicate the model minority child in their own hetereonuclear families” (Sohn, 29). This myth pops up seemingly in literature to undermine those that do not adhere to it, and it gives sex this ulterior motive that shifts the way people think of it for the worse. The book Inscrutable Belongings: Queer Asian North American Fiction by Stephen Hong Sohn tracks the ways queer Asian-Americans are represented in literature. Narrative elliptics are when the plots do not have a majorly important character that is “identified as both queer and Asian North American” but these types of stories still explore complications of social difference and the storyteller often faces “material violence and social death” (Sohn, 31). Protoqueer narratives are when stories have a main character that is Asian North American and they have tendencies that do not align with heterosexuality, but the character is not downright labeled as queer because of their young age and the plot never extends into adulthood (Sohn, 31). Ensemble narratives are narratives that do include queer Asian North American characters, but their development in the story relies on the others around them and if they “exhibit same-sex desires in these ensemble narratives” they “may face catastrophic consequences” (Sohn, 31–32). These narratives come together to speak volumes about the difficulty of being queer and Asian-American and the never-ending saga of confusion and strife they endure because of the way society has told them to feel about their own identity.
“The Shop”
Anthony Veasna So’s short story “, The Shop,” toys with ideas like homonationalism and only being able to belong to one minority group at a time while also exemplifying many of the struggles of being a queer Asian-American man in a very intriguing way. “The Shop ‘’ explores this dynamic in a manner that counters the overarching way different identities are often separated and divided into individual boxes by society. So navigates his identity in a way that doesn’t compromise his Cambodian heritage nor his homosexuality at the expensive of the other or even at the expense of any other component of his identity. So’s ability to traverse the multitudes seemingly with ease poses as a direct foil to the concept of homonationalism and the idea that one is only allowed to be part of one minority group at a time. The multitudes within the character in “The Shop” often come together in moments of pensive thought or dialogue between the main character and another. The character’s mother asks about the boy he is seeing, and this question comes while he is mixing traditional Cambodian fish sauce for his father’s inspection (So, 12). This tiny moment where multiple aspects of his identity unconsciously overlap serves as a jab to the idea that you can only be one minority at a time. The boy the main character is seeing, Paul, and the main character have multiple conversations regarding their feelings about their homosexuality, their lives and their heritage. All of these pieces of their individuality are perfectly woven into conversations as if there is no struggle deciding what matters more to them at all. Paul discusses his relationship with his race to the narrator when he says “‘Thing is, I’m too white for the Mexicans and too Mexican for whites’” which then leads into a conversation and train of thought regarding the narrator’s relationship with Paul and the complexity of their relationship (So, 6). The topic of the conversation switches again to focus on the narrator’s job at his father’s shop representing his familial ties and his identity when it comes to his Cambodian heritage. The almost instantaneous flow of this conversation from one personal topic to the next serves as an example of individuals that we as readers see as multifaceted human beings rather than as one label or another.
So’s story does however play into some stereotypes of Asian-American literature and the specific struggles of being Asian-American. A key aspect of the story is the discussion of the feelings the main character has regarding the model minority myth and how he feels inadequate to live up to these standards and represent his family. The character finds himself trapped in a whirlwind of emotions regarding his contributions to his family and his disappointment when it comes to the fact, he doesn’t view himself as being successful or hardworking. Doctor Heng’s wife, another character in the short story, confronts him constantly with these feelings and causes him to question his worth and sense of self (So, 3). Doctor Heng’s wife put the absurd idea into the narrator’s head that he needs to marry a Cambodian woman, fake heterosexuality, and provide his family with grandchildren and success before going off to live his life as a gay man (So, 3). The narrator finds himself taken aback originally, but he finds himself genuinely pondering this proposition because of his own insecurities about his success (So, 3). This also further exemplifies how his sexuality, and his heritage are interlocked because they both go hand in hand when it comes to “impressing” or “disappointing” his family with his life choices. This short story doesn’t necessarily tell a story that revolves around a violent fight to survive, but it does tell the story of a young boy who has found himself stuck in inner turmoil and is struggling to make sense of himself and his purpose in the world. This doesn’t entirely contradict the idea that queer Asian-American literature often revolves around a story of survival, conflict, and strife, but it is more focused on internal issues rather than a deeply external chaos.
Works Cited
“AAPI LGBTQ Students.” GLSEN, https://www.glsen.org/research/aapi-lgbtq-students.
Eng, David L. The Feeling of Kinship: Queer Liberalism and the Racialization of Intimacy. Duke University Press, 2010.
Puar, Jasbir K. Terrorist Assemblages: Homonationalism in Queer Times. Duke University Press, 2017.
Sohn, Stephen Hong. Inscrutable Belongings: Queer Asian North American Fiction. Stanford University Press, 2018.
Veasna So, Anthony. “The Shop.” Granta, 13th January 2020, https://granta.com/the-shop/.
