Green
Tea & Brown Sugar
On
an uncharacteristically sunny November day in San Francisco,
I had Sunday brunch with a happy gay couple, Danny and
Scott, and chuckled over the story of how they became
an item. It was a random encounter. In April, 1995,
they both happened to be at the corner of Polk and California,
where the famous cable cars turn around, and spotted
each other. As Danny strolled past Scott, he remembered
a tip from a how-to book, The Official Gay Manual—after
the initial glance, count from one to three and look
back. Scott’s eyes met Danny’s, which according
to the book, signaled attraction. After chatting for
about an hour on the street, the two exchanged numbers,
and the rest led up to the two sharing a meal with me
at Delancey Street restaurant, eight years later.
It’s a typical, funny anecdote, no different than
those of any other loving gay couple in San Francisco,
and not so surprising even for an interracial couple
like Danny and Scott. After all, the corner of Polk
and California streets is a block away from N’Touch,
the local “rice bar.” But if I told you
that Danny, 41, is Asian and Scott, 39, is black, would
that make a difference?
Judging
from Danny’s Chinese American background, their
introduction to each other might seem to have been an
unlikely episode. His experience tells him that African
Americans are looked-down upon by Asians in general.
As a program coordinator at the YMCA in the early eighties,
he found himself having to coax alarmed Chinese parents
to keep their children enrolled in his summer youth
program when they learned that there would be black
youths in the program. “Those parents were freaked
out for the safety of their kids because they automatically
associate blacks with criminal activities,” he
says. It is a perception fueled, quite arguably, by
sensationalized American media like the television program,
COPS, which routinely features images of African Americans
being forced into spread-eagle positions by law enforcement
officers.
Considering
the overt negative reactions that he has seen from his
ethnic community towards black men, Danny’s relationship
with an African American man certainly surprised his
family and friends. But the reactions that they get
in the gay community can at times be more along the
lines of disdain. This is an unfortunate attitude, says
his partner. “When you come to terms with being
gay, a major taboo is broken—you’re basically
telling the world you’re dating men,” says
Scott, a litigation attorney. “But what’s
shocking is that the gay community is still so limited
and narrow about what’s acceptable in relationships.”
Indeed,
if there is no other tangible indication of the limited
tolerance for Asian and African American men being together,
it is the small number of couples actually seen in public
at all. I would have thought in a city like San Francisco,
renowned for its large gay population and ethnic diversity,
they would be easy to find. But in searching for any
couples to approach for this article—including
going to the N’Touch and the Pendudum (its counterpart
for gay black men in the Castro district) and trying
to tease them out on Internet message boards such as
Craigslist.org—I had little luck. “Gay Asian
and black couples do exist,” insisted Danny, “but
they are rare.”
The
invisibility of Asian-and-black couples lead many to
think that a majority of Asian men choose to only date
white men. Even some Asian men who are into other Asians—“sticky
rice” as the phenomenon is colloquially known—complain
that most Asians are “taken” by whites.
So really, the question for many Asian American and
African American men in relationships isn’t, Why
are there so few of us? more than Why do most Asian
men date white men?
There
are no hard statistics to support that claim, but it
is a widely-held perception that to go around any significantly
gay neighborhood in the U.S., like San Francisco’s
Castro district, and to see gay Asian men in a couple
means to see them with white men. The phenomenon is
not surprising, considering how dominant white mainstream
culture is. The pervasiveness of homoerotic Abercrombie
& Fitch ads and television shows like Queer as Folk
that showcase white beauty tell us that if you’re
six-feet, blonde, blue-eyed and tanned, you have it
made.
I’ve
seen the misleading influence of that kind of media
message on myself. Growing up as a Chinese American,
I’ve had to dig deep to find my identity because
I didn’t fit that profile. I had aunts and uncles
scrutinizing my eyes and nose—seeing if they looked
“Western” enough. My cousin, Lulu, made
sure she looked the part: she underwent eye and nose
surgery. Her eyelids were “missing” a fold.
Her nose, too flat.
In Danny’s view, many minority men who don’t
fit the Western-influenced beauty profile try to validate
themselves by dating white men, moving them closer to
this imposed mainstream perception of beauty. This has
been a pattern among his Asian friends— to seek
out white boyfriends.
David
Lai, a licensed clinical psychologist who specializes
in gay interracial relationships, has found that Asians
revere white culture and place whites at the top of
the social scale. He explains, “This is an effect
of the media. Our minds have been programmed to equate
beauty and success with being white.”
In his relationship with Scott, Danny feels he has stretched
beyond the typical comfort zone into uncharted territory.
He reflects that it’s difficult to think outside
the box; people find mainstream culture comforting.
“White culture is familiar—it’s been
in power for a long time, and many see it as ‘the
‘accepted culture’,” he says.
For
many African Americans, the perception of power is not
just granted to white men—it’s also extended
to Asian Americans. Burmese-born Kianni Myint, 29, suggests
that internalized racism has been problematic in his
past relationships. His current boyfriend, who is black
(and preferred to remain unidentified in this article),
constantly draws self-deprecating negative comparisons
between himself and Asian Americans. He always tells
me that if he were Asian he would have an easier time
finding a job and getting a home loan approved,”
Kianni says. “He thinks Asians are intelligent
and successful.”
Dr.
Lai notes that an inferiority complex is not uncommon
among black men. “Traditionally, many people view
blacks as the bottom of society,” he says. “They
may have a social edge by dating Asians as Asians do
with whites—there are different levels of power
associated with race and skin color.”
But
a somewhat different take on the issue of power and
skin color is offered by Larry Shinagawa, director of
the Center for Race, Culture and Ethnicity at Ithaca
College in New York. While white culture sees Asians
and blacks the way they want to, says Dr. Shinagawa,
Asian-and-black couples tend to downplay sexual fantasies
based on skin color, seeing skin as nothing more than
color and contrast. They are not the power brokers;
they lack the tools for articulating and defining their
relationships. “In minority-minority couples,
you don’t have that deep well of imagery where
issues beyond race and skin color arise,” he says.
“Whereas, in Asian-and-white relationships, it
is not just skin color, it is a matter of power, privilege,
body image and ownership.”
These
issues that Shinagawa describe manifest themselves in
sexual stereotypes and expectations placed on gay men
of color. For Asians, they include being submissive,
docile and quiet, while blacks are often expected to
be macho and aggressive.
Joey,
43, a banker and third-generation Japanese American,
has been on the receiving end of such stereotypes and
expectations in his past dating experience. He muses
that he’s gotten dinged for being short, chubby
and, most unexpectedly, rather outspoken. “It
seems that the gay community is looking for a certain
type of Asian guy and I’m not that guy,”
he says.
He believes that ignorance and a lack of communication
are what lead to these types of assumptions about people
and their race. A big reason Joey prefers to date black
men is that since they are not a part of the white culture,
he believes they are more aware of cultural differences
and dealing with stereotypes. There is a wide gap, however,
between understanding those cultural differences and
dealing with them within both the Asian and African
American communities.
Shinagawa notes from his research that the Asian community
is surprisingly accepting of gay relationships when
those relationships are re-articulated as same-sex “friendships.”
He claims, however, that the black community is generally
not so accepting of gay interracial relationships.
This
was true for Joey, whose previous relationships with
African American men meant having a hard time integrating
into circles of friends primarily comprised of black
men and women, gay or straight. “The groups tended
to be tight-knit and cliquish,” he said. “I
remember one time my ex-boyfriend brought me to a party
and one of his friends left because that friend couldn’t
accept that he was dating outside his race.”
Still,
Dr. Lai thinks that the “gay factor” is
still more problematic for others to accept than the
interracial aspect in a relationship between two men
of different races. In a hypothetical setting where
a traditional Chinese family would cite a preference
between a black woman and a Chinese man for their son’s
potential mate, Dr. Lai predicts they would opt for
the former. “Acceptance comes with acculturation—factors
that include education, communication, familiarity with
and knowledge of the culture,” he said. “A
gay Asian-and-black relationship is a double whammy.
People have to intermix with the gay culture as well
as the black culture.”
With
as many obstacles as Asian-and-black couples have to
deal with, some men have made great strides to see that
it becomes easier for these men to support their relationships,
or at the very least, find each other. Luis, a mixed
Chinese and Cuban gay man from San Jose, California,
runs Asian and Black Men SF, an Internet-based social
and support group. Founded in 2000, the online club
currently has 225 members, and hosts a bimonthly café
gathering.
"There
is a fundamental difference between the Internet group
and coffee group,” says Luis. “The Internet
group is prevalent with ‘hookups’ (contacts
for casual sex) while the coffee gathering features
a different crowd—guys who genuinely care about
one another and are looking to start relationships.”
Regardless
of the agenda of social clubs like these, Lai believes
that they serve a critical function. “You need
to start somewhere and generate some interest,”
he said. “People need to recognize that these
couples do exist.”
While
wider awareness of gay Asian-and-black couples may be
the paramount goal for Asian and Black Men SF , Luis’
boyfriend, Rob, a 35-year-old black electrical engineer,
stresses that it’s up to individuals to be open
to these kinds of relationships. “A lot of people
limit their options because they are afraid of being
ostracized by their community but I’m not,”
he said. “I’ll date whoever I like.”
by
Alex Lau
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