Walt in the World?!
My cousin, who otherwise loves the Disney Channel, recently made a comment about how Disney hates Asians. She commented on how many of the Asian actresses or cartoon characters on this network tend to be portrayed as either b*tchy or ditzy. Well, other than Mulan, that is.
And even though my cousin might disagree, I do think Lilo (from “Lilo & Stitch”) can technically be considered an Asian. Because … and follow along with me here … The Philippine Islands are located in the Pacific ocean. Therefore, Filipinos are considered Pacific Islanders and are lumped into the “Asian/Pacific Islander” category (as “dictated” by the US Census Bureau). And seeing as if the Hawaiian Islands are in the Pacific …
Yeah, so that’s my logic in explaining Lilo’s Asian-ness …
But my cousin’s comment reminded me of something that was pointed out to me by one of Hubby’s cousins last summer on our trip to Disneyworld. While at Mickey’s Toontown Fair, we stumbled upon one of the biggest mass-marketing stores inside the Magic Kingdom. Inside this store were rows and rows of toys from various movies. One entire section was dedicated to the Disney Princesses.
What Hubby’s cousin pointed out to us was this:
Rather inconspicuous, don’t you think? I mean really … Snow White, Belle, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty in one package. Princess Jasmine, Ariel, Mulan and Pocahontes in a separate package.
The “Classic Princesses” (although, I question if Belle, created in 1991, is considered a “classic”) in one set, at eye level on the shelves. And the rather “unique” Princesses (an Arabian Princess, a Redheaded Mermaid, a “China Doll” and an American Indian Princess) in another set, located at waist level on the shelf below.
To me, it’s one of those things that make you go “Hmmmm ….”
Anyhoo, going back to my cousin’s initial comment … the reason I’m writing about this topic is because I’ve often felt the same thing about the way that American mass media portrays Asians. And specifically Asian-American females. It seems as if we’re perceived as being one or the other.
- Yeah … Lilo is a “Pacific Islander”
Bitchy or subservient.
Intelligent or ditzy.
Foreign-born or Adopted.
As an American-born and bred Filipina (and even for those that may have been born “abroad” but spent there formative years growing up in the US), this is a rather annoying (and not to mention incorrect) observation that has not often been voiced aloud.
I can’t tell you how many people have asked when my Hubby (who is also Filipino) and I moved to the US. And did we marry each other before moving here? Or did we marry after one of us became a US citizen? (The answer is NO for both questions, btw … we met in high school here and subsequently married here six years after we started dating.)
And while I’m on the same subject, I can’t tell you how many of my Asian girlfriends who married “non-Asians” have been told by others that they thought they were “mail order brides.” Just because they married outside of their culture.
Or how about when I was working at the beside as a Registered Nurse in a hospital setting? I found myself taking care of many American Vets who served in either WWII or the Korean/Vietnam wars. And many times, I was told that they could “never understand” me because my Chinese / Vietnamese / Korean / Japanese accent was “too strong.” Even though I speak perfectly clear English with my hometown Midwestern accent.
I could go on and on. Like my first job at a local fast food establishment; where my boss thought that Asians were “too smart for their own good” and should not be allowed to work the cash registers. Or even this incident, mentioned in one of my much earlier blog post. But then it would seem as if I’m merely “complaining.”
The truth is, I hope that others would see that not all Asian women fit into any one stereotype. That we are all unique, just like every other woman out there. That like every Disney Princess out there, we want to be recognized for the unique strengths we can offer to this world … regardless of how we physically see our “outer” reflections in the mirror.
And so, to bring it all back to Disney … here’s a song from one of my favorite movies of all time; one that sometimes hits closer to home than I’d like it to.
Born on the 6th of July
I’m coming up on the last minutes of my actual birthday; I turned 37 years old today. And while I’m not exactly thrilled to be another year older, I must admit that this has been a wonderful day. Actually, it’s been a wonderful four days.
It started out on Friday with the corporate Independence Day holiday; which meant I wasn’t chained to my desk or weighted down by twenty zillion emails on my work-issued crackberry. It was also the only day Hubby and I both knew we’d have all to our own this entire weekend.
So what did we do? Spent it sleeping in until about 9 am, followed shortly after by the presentation of my “early” birthday gift. Then it was off to Evanston and on to the beach, where we spent the afternoon swimming in the cool (but not freezing) Lake Michigan weather and lying on our large two-person beach towel reading. That was followed by a really late lunch (or early dinner) at the local seafood restaurant and a movie at the Evanston theater. Overall, a very relaxing day.
Saturday morning was spent cleaning, in anticipation of my parents arriving by train later in the afternoon. And really, that was probably the most work I did all weekend long. (Except for that relatively last-minute document that work required me to have completed by Friday morning … )
By 1 pm Saturday afternoon, Hubby and I were on the Chicago River waiting for our Chicago Architecture Foundation (CAF) docent to begin our tour of the significant buildings along the river. It was an excellent tour and it definitely gave us a different view of the Chicago skyline; one we had never seen before. The only downer was that it was a very cold and wet day. Oh well, this just means we’ll have to go again on a brighter and sunnier day. 🙂
My parents “rolled” into town around 5 pm on Saturday evening. And because it was still raining at the time, we headed over to the Water Tower only to find that the indoor shopping center would close at 6 pm. So instead, we took the Lakeshore scenic drive up to Evanston to have dinner at the same seafood restaurant Hubby & I ate at the day before.
What I didn’t realize at the time was that Hubby was already thinking in “advance.” You see, by the time we made it up to Evanston, the rain and clouds blew over leaving a clear evening sky in its place. Which made it perfect weather for Evanston’s 4th of July fireworks. So after dinner, we walked down to Patriot’s Park along the waterfront and sat front and center for the show. Perfect way to end the day.
Yesterday (Sunday) was spent at the Shedd Aquarium downtown in Chicago’s Museum District. Hubby & I had been there earlier in the year when our nephew Tyler spent his Easter break with us. Unfortunately, the sea-quarium was being remodeled, so we didn’t get to see the dolphins or whales at that time. But yesterday … those beauties were back. And showing off just for my parents; who had never been there.
For my parents, I think the best part was the whole “Wild Reef” exhibit, which is the shark exhibit. Hubby & I had been to the Shedd about 5 years ago when this exhibit first opened; mainly because our nephew has always had a thing for sharks. What we hadn’t expect was:
- The sharks to be so d*mn small at the time, and
- The whole exhibit to revolve around protecting coral reefs
The whole coral reef aspect was the same thing that both my parents and Hubby & me loved. And that’s because the Philippine Islands played a ginormous role throughout the exhibit. What we had learned is that the Philippine waters house the largest, most diverse fish and coral life in the world. And seeing how prominent the role of the Philippines played everywhere in this display, it was an absolute cool way to learn more about my heritage and where my parents came from!
And today … “B”-day (as opposed to “D”-day … 😉 ). I wasn’t expecting much of anything other than a (well-deserved) day off from work to spend with my Hubby and parents as we traipse through the town. But it was such a fun day!
We started out in Chinatown where we walked through and picked up a variety of different things … like a back scratcher (can never have enough of them) and a hand-painted fan (for those hot days). Oh, and some delish sweet and sour gummies from an Asian candy store … yum! However, the real reason to go to Chinatown was to have a Dim Sum feast at our favorite Chinese restaurant. And because it was my birthday, I had to have my traditional “Long Life” noodle dish!
While in a post-food ingestion haze, Hubby drove all of us over to the Sears — oops, I mean Willis — Tower to do the most touristy thing in Chicago. Yep, went all the way up to the observation deck; but not before spending more than an hour in line. But it was definitely worth it … the views of the city were absolutely spectacular!
And then there were the glass balconies. Oh yes; glass. It’s the newest part of the the attraction; four retractable glass balconies that allows a view of the city that’s definitely unique. As in “103-stories-straight-down” unique.
It was a little daunting at first, but once I was on there it wasn’t so bad … as long as I didn’t continue to look down for extended periods of time. From then, it was just a matter of taking silly pictures of us “falling” or “hanging on to dear life.” And of course, since I’m such a “rebel,” I had to do something “dangerous” … well at least what others would perceive as dangerous.
Oh yeah … I made Hubby take a picture of me jumping on the balcony. Which, if one didn’t know how absolutely reinforced these balconies were by steel, would really freak anyone else that was on the balcony when I jumped. Heh … told you I was a rebel.
My parents took us out to dinner afterwards, at my place of choice. But because my parents had yet to to experience authentic Chicago deep dish pizza. So that’s how we ended up at Pizzeria Due and stuffed beyond belief and in desperate need of something to do walk off all the food we ate.
That’s how my Mom, Hubby and I ended up at the beach 3 blocks from our apartment, walking along the lakeshore. And it was a beautiful evening to do so as well, with the full moon shimmering off the lake.
Afterwards, it was back to the apartment where, after an unexpected phone call from Dr. Bro (who actually remembered to call on my actual birthday — a miracle in itself), Hubby surprised me with a birthday cake.
And so that was my Birthday weekend. A lot of activity in a small span of time. I’m so grateful my parents were there to celebrate it with me. And I’m so incredibly lucky to have a Hubby that loves me so much.
So now I’m off to do a little more work before heading off to bed. I’m not going into work tomorrow, as we’re taking my parents to the train station late-morning, but this is something with an unfortunate deadline.
And what a blessing it will be to have tomorrow off. Because after a busy four days, this 37-year old body certainly needs the rest.
The Zen of Yin and Yang
Anybody that has ever met me knows that I have two left feet.
Okay … so the Filipina in me can, at the very least, dance to a beat. But put me in a pair of heels (or heck, even flat shoes give me problems), and I can’t even walk a straight line without tripping.
I can even fall down while laying in bed. Seriously. Okay, so that part was really caused by Hubby turning over and taking all the blankets that I was lying on top of … but nonetheless, it was ME that fell on the floor.
The other day, as Hubby and I strolled the streets of the Magnificent Mile, I contemplated how throughout my life I’ve always been at one extreme or the other. I’ve thought about how I’ve either been extremely happy or in the throws of despair. Or I’ve either totally loved my job or completely hated it to the point of quitting. Or I’ve felt completely optimistic about IVF to being downright pessimistic about my infertility.
And then I tripped. (D*mn Crocs on uneven pavement …)
After being caught by Hubby and subsequently asked how my “trip” was … I thought about the irony of my last “fall.” Tripping when contemplating how unbalanced my life is.
So after I regained my footing, I began to contemplate whether my life has always been unbalanced. Much like I’ve always had two left feet. Had I always seen things so black and white? Did I always approach life in a yin and yang type of manner?
Hubby seems to think I do not. That I tend to see things in this manner only when there is some sort of major disruption in my life. Whether it’s IVF / Infertility or work-related issues … or even any “fun” situations like moving to Chicago or traveling to different places … it seems that I try to garner control of things by seeing them as “relative” yes or no situations. Right. Or wrong.
And looking back at any “interesting” moments in life, I realize that Hubby is absolutely right. The times in my life where I’ve had no control over any situation are the times that I felt most “unbalanced. Unfortunately, it’s also those type of situations that I always tend to focus on rather than the “uneventful” peaceful times in my life.
Why think about those lazy Sunday afternoons where Hubby and I sit at the local cafe and read, drink coffee and otherwise relax? Not when I can spend the time obsessing over whether or not I’m doing a good enough job in my new boss’s eyes. Why get excited over our recent move to the Windy City and all the new places we get to explore this summer when I can worry about whether I made the right decision to move? Why think about how d*mn unfair it is that other women can get pregnant at the drop of a hat when I can think about how much of an impact I may (or may not) have made on my nephew’s life?
So after that last literal trip, I decided that I should focus on the wonderful aspect of every day life. And that I shouldn’t take for granted something as simple as Hubby catching my arm as I trip over my two left feet. Because it’s those little things … those every day wonderful thoughtful things that provide the balance that I need in those otherwise chaotic, uncontrollable moments in life.
Forty-plus Days
In the Catholic-Filipino tradition, a 9-day novena is held immediately after the death of a loved one. On the 40th day, a mass is held in commemoration of this loved one as it is believed that this is the day they’ve ascended into the heavens. It’s also the day where the act of “mourning” (wearing black, for example) officially concludes. It’s supposed to be the time where a person is supposed to outwardly “show” that they’ve began to “move on” with everyday life.
Except … anyone that has ever mourned the loss a love one (or heck, even the loss of anything in life — like the ability to have children, for instance) knows that grief doesn’t last for a set moment in time. Life doesn’t just miraculously get better after 40 days, several months or even years. If anything, grief is a process that must be worked through completely before a person can successfully move on.
Sometime last week was the 40th day anniversary of my Grandma Rose‘s passing. In all honestly, the date escaped me. It wasn’t until I saw pictures of a celebration at my Uncle’s house on my cousin‘s Facebook page that I remembered. And if the rest of my Mom’s family in the U.S. didn’t live on the East Coast, I might have been there celebrating with them. Instead, I celebrated with them in spirit; once again reflecting back on the incredible life my 99-year old Grandmother.
This past Monday, on Memorial Day of all days, I happened to get the first part of an incredible gift in my email inbox. This same cousin, who posted pictures of the 40th day celebration, sent me … along with the rest of my cousins and Aunts/Uncles in her email address book … a scanned copy of a notebook written by Grandma Rose.
About 32 pages in length and written about twenty years ago, this handwritten notebook told the most basic lifestory of my grandmother in her own words. She had left it to my cousin, who took it upon herself to scan in each page and send it to all of us.
It was absolutely wonderful to read these pages and physically see it my Grandma’s own handwriting. Many of the accounts she documented were stories that I can remember her telling me. Other stories were ones that were passed down to me from my own Mom. But reading them now … well, they brought back such warm memories of listening to my Grandma Rose tell these stories and being fascinated on how life in the Philippines was so different than my own.
For years, we had told Grandma that she should write all these stories down … that she had lived such an interesting life. While many of these stories never made it into writing, I still feel incredibly blessed that Grandma left her own legacy behind and in her own words.
Last night, after I finished reading these pages I, once again, felt this incredible closeness with my Grandma Rose. It felt as if she was right there next to me, telling me these stories like she did when I was little. It felt as if I could put my arms around her and hug her, while she read aloud to me what she wrote.
And just like that, the tears sprung up again. Because then I realized how much I missed her and still miss her. Even after these 40-plus days.
***
And because the number 40 always reminds me of this song … I have to pay homage to one of my favorite bands of all time. I have this vivid memory of being home sick one day in high school and watching “Live at Red Rocks: Under a Blood Red Sky” … so it’s this clip I had to post.
For those that don’t know, this song is based on the Bible’s Psalm 40. Which … given how spiritual my Grandma Rose was … is incredibly appropriate. Enjoy.