WP3: How the emasculated Asian gay men are fetishized and desexualized in our society.

Amos Pai
Writing 150
Published in
13 min readApr 20, 2022

What does it mean to be a queer Asian man?

In recent anti-Asian hate crimes, I have noticed how anti-Asian hate crimes and hate speech often encompasses misogynistic and homophobic language, such as “gay ass”, “Asian pussy”, “Asian fxxgot”…etc. In my WP1, I discussed how Asian people are seen as the “feminine” racial group. The intertwining of toxic masculinity and racism shapes Asian men’s experience in American society. Asian men seem to be a concept of racialized femininity. This racialized femininity, within the context of toxic masculine society, emasculates Asian men. We find ourselves needing to “prove” our masculinity to our white, patriarchal society. But what does this mean in particular for Asian queer people? Being marginalized because of our gender/sexual orientation, the queer community has a different approach to gender issues. Being queer and Asian myself, I often find that I’ve been further marginalized by two marginalized communities. I’m not white enough in the queer community and I’m not “straight” enough for my Asian community. It was nearly impossible for me to speak up for the fact that I do not have the privilege to choose between being Asian or being queer. In my WP2, I made a survey to investigate the experience of being Asian and queer as I was interested in learning how racialized feminity of Asian people has an impact on the Asian queer community.

What stood out and truly resonated with me was my respondents’ collective experience of being both fetishized and desexualized in our society. Asian queer men find ourselves being emasculated by toxic masculinity and racialized femininity. The eternal “feminine” image of Asian men has inevitably led to the queer community’s fetishization and desexualization of Asian men. Paradoxically tied together, fetishization and desexualization of Asian queer men mark the lack of sexual/romantic agency Asian queer men have in the queer community. To further dismantle the roots and implications of this situation, I reflected on how heteronormativity and white-supremacy impact the queer community. The nature of hetero-normativity is so prevalent in our society today that its effects can be seen in queer relationships as well. What is so interesting about queer relationships, taking gay men, in particular, is whether we’re perceived as the “man” or the “woman”. When we’re being perceived as “the woman” in a queer relationship, our “Asianess”, which serves as a symbol of racialized feminity in the American context, is fetishized. When we’re out of this romantic/sexual context, however, and present as the “men” in our society, we’re desexualized for our identity as a man.

In the context of the heteronormative nature of sex, people often associate bottom gay men as women. In my opinion, “top/bottom” simply suggests one’s sexual position. Under the hetero-normative perspective, being the “top” means you’re in the penetrating position and being the “bottom” means you’re the penetrated one. Nonetheless, just as the connotation of the word “top” and “bottom” implies, it often extends out of the context of sexual position and then becomes an indicator of the dominant/submissive role in a gay relationship. Both straight and queer people often take “top/bottom” to assume a queer person’s persona, gender expression, and gender identity. People would often associate the “top” as masculine, “straight-passing”, and muscular; the “bottom” as feminine, “twink-like”, and submissive. By applying the hetero-normative rules of having the “man” and “woman” in queer relationships, queer people struggle with fitting in a stereotype and type-cast role that we don’t necessarily identify with.

Applying the effects of racialized femininity and the “top/bottom” implication in queer relationships, we see Asian gay men are type-cast in the bottom role. I specifically used the word type-cast because I wanted to address how this is not just a stereotype situation. Not only do people stereotype Asian queer men and assume we are all “bottoms”, but our freedom of choice in sexual position is also taken away from us. It’s a form of marginalization and oppression that exceeds the boundaries of “stereotypes”. It’s not only that people assume your sexual position, but also don’t give you the liberty to determine your role, both sexually and emotionally. In my survey in WP2, one respondent commented “not many people find you attractive unless you fall under the category of the feminized, emasculated, Asian stereotype”. The idea of being emasculated defines what it is like to be an Asian gay man in American society. As an essay from Kean University reveals, “Since the stereotype of gay Asian men is that they are feminine, these men are automatically considered to be the bottom and be submissive” Asian gay men are often fetishized by white people in queer relationships just like how Asian women are the most popular ethnic group in the dating “market”.White “top” gay men fetishized the racialized feminity of Asian gay men that we’re typecast as the “bottom” role. Under the “interracial” genre in porn websites, we see the vast majority of these porn videos have Asian bottoms and white/black tops. You rarely see Asian people serving the top position in these videos. The popular genre of Asian men serves to become a fetishized concept where our ethnicity becomes a symbol of submissiveness, femininity, and emasculation.

In this sense, the idea of “top/bottom” signifies the power dynamics of relationships. In “House of Cards”, Frank Underwood states “Everything is about sex, except sex, sex is about power”. Extending out of the context of sex itself, sex positions often fulfill the power dynamics between people in relationships. Applying these power dynamics to race, we see how prevalent it is that white dominance and marginalized Asian people correlate to white “tops” and Asian “bottoms”. The idea of fetishizing Asian gay men and type-casting us into the eternal “bottom” type demonstrates how the racial dynamics of our society extend to queer relationships. The fetishization of Asian people is not an appreciation of our ethnicity, but rather further oppression of Asian people that fulfills white supremacy and dominance.

Our attractiveness roots in people’s internalized racism and how they put Asian queer people in a disadvantageous position the power dynamics. We’re always the “cutie”, the queer version of “American sweetheart”, but never the “hottie” or the “sexy beast”. The “attractiveness” we get from being fetishized does not give us power. In fact, it deprives our power in relationships and in society. Our attractiveness roots in the powerless, submissive impression that white people associate with our race. Our attractiveness only stands within the context of yielding more power to white people. Just like Asian women who are praised for being quiet, humble, gentle, and submissive, Asian gay men are only perceived as “attractive” under the lens of us being controlled by white men. Our situation shows nothing but to make white men in gay relationships appear more dominant and in control. Thus, we see that this type-cast role and expected behavior not only doesn’t give Asian gay men power but also limits us to explore what sexual position/role and personality do we identify with individually. Being the concept of “Gayasian”, our individuality is erased. When people fetishize us, we serve to be the “kinky” objectified option for people in the queer community. By holding on to this twisted, fetishized attractivity, Asian gay men are expected to bring out our “Asianess” not in an authentic sense but from an exoticized standpoint.

On the other hand, Asian gay men, just like Asian heterosexual, non-queer men, are desexualized because of our Asianess. As one of our respondents says, “There certainly would be the aspect of the notion of Asian males having less sexual prowess than other ethnicities, even in the queer community.” Asian men, regardless of our sexual orientation, have always been desexualized in American society. In the dating market, we’re deemed to be the least attractive ethnic group. “In 2014, the dating site OKCupid revealed data showing that Asian men, along with black women, tend to get fewer matches than members of other races.” Since Asian people are under the influence of racialized femininity, we are deemed to be unattractive in our patriarchal society. This racialized femininity leads to a polarizing impact on Asian women and Asian men, making Asian women the most sought after and Asian men the least in the dating market. Under the pressure to fulfill the standards of “masculinity” for men, our racialized femininity serves to be an obstacle for Asian men to be attractive and appreciated.

The queer culture, especially for gay men, centers around masculinity. When you go on dating apps for gay men, what you’ll notice is the shockingly frequent use of the hashtag #nofemme or #masconly. The irony is the queer community comes together as a community based on our shared experience of being oppressed and marginalized because of our identity and gender expression. When it comes to the dating market, however, we adopt the toxic masculine and hetero-normative societal values so well that we not only give in to fight against them, but we accept them to an extent that we cling on to these values even more than cisgender, heterosexual people. From personal experience, I often hear my gay friends listing “masculine” as their must-need quality for a partner. Words like, “masc”, “straight-passing”, and “manly” define the hierarchy of masculinity in the gay community. As feminine qualities are discriminated against within the community, we see a parallel relationship between #nofemme and #noAsian hashtags. Being labeled as “feminine” because of racialized femininity, we are desexualized by the toxic masculinity in queer dating culture. There is an overwhelming number of #noAsian or #noRice #NoCurry hashtags on dating apps. Jason Ve, the music and tech executive of 88rising who is also queer and Asian, explains, “two words were written blatantly and prevalently on users’ public profiles: “No Asians.” Those words spoke for themselves. I grew up bottling up this sense of shame for my heritage, my race and my identity.“ The normalized subtle racism within the queer community forces Asian gay men into the corner. As one of my respondents from the “Asian and gay ”survey states, queer Asians are the “the minority within a minority group”.

Thus, we see ourselves in this intersection where we are either fetishized or desexualized. In Andrew Kung, a Chinese American photographer, work on “The Desexualization of the Asian American Male”, he tackled this situation. In this project, he worked with an Asian drag artist, who “must contend with the stereotypes faced by both Asian American men (being desexualized) and Asian American women (being fetishized)”. This demonstrates how Asian gay men see ourselves in a situation where we’re marginalized by different means at the same time. As a drag artist, the model embodies what defines a “man” and a “woman”. In Andrew Kung’s photography, we see the drag artist shot in two different frames. “One image (in color) shows him in his drag persona, and the other (in black and white) shows him as a vulnerable Asian American man.” In the photography with him in the drag persona, we see the drag artist wearing 旗袍(QiPao), a traditional Chinese clothing. Thus, we see how the artist embodies what an exoticized, fetishized image of Asian people appears. In the drag persona, we see his femininity intertwined with the way he presents his Asianess. On the other hand, the one with him as a vulnerable Asian man is shown in black and white. The monochromatic colors, as well as his lonesome facial expression, express the melancholy of desexualized Asian men. In contrast to the bright colors of his drag persona (especially the QiPoa in sexy red), this black and white photo brings out his lonesomeness. Being colorless parallels Asian men being desexualized.

Being both fetishized and desexualized at the same time, we see queer Asian men, or “Gayasian” as some call it, being a concept rather than truthfully representing the community. Within the context of facing fetishization and desexualization, we fall under the lens of white dominance and the Western gaze. We’re a concept of racialized femininity, emasculation, and white dominance. These qualities are not the “essence” of Asian gay men but rather an interpretation of what being Asian and gay means to white people. Whether they fetishize us for being feminine and cute or desexualize us for not being masculine enough, society takes our voice and stance in this matter. Our identity, as well as the overall situation in society, is determined by white dominance and heteronormativity.

Fetishized or desexualized, one way or another, we’re being “othered” as we’re eternally seen as a different category. We’re the unexpected. People don’t expect you to date, or even simply associate with, an Asian gay man. Therefore, it is “normal” to not feel attracted to Asian men. When people do express a specific interest to Asians, they often come from a fetishizing perspective as that could be the only acceptable excuse to date an Asian man. In this sense, we see the core of this matter is marginalization. We’re the desexualized; we’re the fetishized: we’re the other. In Pedagogy of The Oppressed, Paulo Freier talks about dehumanization. “Dehumanization, although a concrete historical fact, is not a given destiny but the result of an unjust order that engenders violence in the oppressors, which in turn dehumanizes the oppressed”. In this sense, we see that both fetishization and desexualization of Asian gay men serve to be a form of violence. As the oppressed, Asian gay men are dehumanized.

“Gayasians’’ is a concept where we lose autonomy and voice. When discussing Asian gay men, we don’t hear Asian gay men’s voices. We see how our white-supremest society deems Asian men to be feminine. We see how people desexualize or fetishize Asian gay men. But what do Asian men say about this? In the discussion of Asian gay men, we have been left out of the conversation. People do not want to listen to our voices and opinions, but rather just want to put us where they think we belong. Personally, I do not consider the race of Asian men to be “feminine”. Nonetheless, my opinion is not included in the conversation. When people discuss what you think about Asian gay men, society tends to incorporate the white, cisgender, hetero-normative perspective. Do people really recognize Asian gay men when they fetishize and desexualize us? When people think of Asian men, they associate us with labels (that can come with both negative and positive connotations), like “too feminine”, “cute”, and “quiet”. Therefore, “Gayasian” becomes a concept they take on that implies what our Asianess is viewed under the lens of white dominance. We’re a concept of racialized femininity, emasculation, and white dominance.

What truly fuels the desexualization and fetishization of “Gayasians” is the power dynamics of the race. Since Asian gay men are emasculated, Asianess ultimately becomes a symbol of feminity. In a society where masculinity is the ultimate symbol of power, our racialized femininity then serves to indicate unattractiveness. As “men”, by all means, are only attractive when you hold on to the power of masculinity. The idea of emasculation is a symbol of how the racial dynamics in American society have ripped Asian people from power. No matter how wealthy, educated, or well we fit in the “model minority” myth, we never come close to the status and power white people own in American society. Applying this to the context of our patriarchal society where masculinity is power and power is masculinity, we see that the dehumanized, power deprived, silenced Asian people present as “feminine”.

Furthermore, what makes the duality of fetishization and desexualization even more problematic is the expectations for Asian men. On one hand, Asian gay men are expected to highlight our Asianess and feminine quality in the queer community. Being fetishized, our sexual prowess roots in our “oriental” Asianess under exoticization. We have to show, sometimes even prove, our Asianess defined in white, western standards, so we can own up to the fetishized “attractivity” in queer relationships. On the other hand, we are expected to prove our masculinity to be a “man” when we’re out in society. Our Asianess, perceived as racialized femininity, is an indication of weakness and unattractiveness. We’re taught to be ashamed of our Asianess. Everything society associates with being Asian, we’re expected to get rid of and “grow out” from them. Physical traits that our society marks or beliefs are Asian, such as monolid eyes, fewer body hairs, and shorter heights… are all indicators of unattractive features. By being desexualized, Asian men are expected to be “less Asian” to be more masculine, be more masculine to be more attractive. On top of physical traits, stereotypes like being academic and quiet extend out of the context of these traits themselves. Being academic does not make Asian people more attractive, but instead becomes a “nerdy” factor that our toxic masculinity society frowns upon. Being quiet, may it be because of first-generation immigrants’ poorer English levels or Asian societal values, became an impression of being “awkward”. Stereotypes of Asian people, may it physical traits or personality traits, hold Asian people from being valued and appreciated like white men in American society. Thus, we see that Asian men are expected to dissociate any indicator of being “Asian” in order to avoid being desexualized.

With this, we’re constantly being told contradictory things about how to behave. This situation, as one of the respondents in my WP2 survey explains, is an expectation for them to “show up a certain way that I don’t always feel comfortable with”. We’re expected to hide our Asianess for society yet we are expected to bring out fetishized Asianess in relationships and in the LGBTQ community. There is nothing wrong with being feminine, but Asian people are emasculated. We do not show femininity as an individual gender expression, but rather stripped away from the option of “masculinity”. What underlines this stripped masculinity is our lack of power. Being oppressed and marginalized, Asian people lose our autonomy and voice in American society. Fetishization and desexualization are both a form of violence and oppression done to Asian gay men. To say I’m Asian, in terms of American standards, is to say I’m feminine and weak. For Asian gay men, especially, there is never a possible way to embrace both our Asianess and queerness. We can be both too Asian and not Asian enough; We can be both not masculine and not feminine enough. We are never good enough for this society.

Works Cited:

Horwitz, J. (n.d.). Tinder has pulled a video clip that some Asian men say makes them appear undateable. Quartz. Retrieved April 20, 2022, from https://qz.com/1065397/tinder-has-pulled-a-video-clip-that-some-asian-men-say-makes-them-appear-undateable/

House of Cards: Season 1. (n.d.).

Kung, A. (2020, March 3). The desexualization of the Asian American Male. CNN. Retrieved April 20, 2022, from https://www.cnn.com/style/article/andrew-kung-asian-american-men/index.html

Racial discrimination of gay men in online dating. (n.d.). Retrieved April 20, 2022, from https://digitalcommons.kean.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1054&context=keanquest

Ve, J. (2021, November 2). ‘no Asians’: Two words I’ve faced my entire life that I’m finally confronting today. Men’s Health. Retrieved April 20, 2022, from https://www.menshealth.com/trending-news/a36555932/jason-ve-confronting-no-asians/

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