Samina Faheem Sundas is doing the damn thing.
Along with winning a prestigious Jefferson Award -- a national award, administered by the American Institute of Public Service, given to those making a difference in his or her community -- she founded American Muslim Voice, serves on the steering committee for Multifaith Voices for Peace and Justice in Palo Alto, is co-founder of Fear to Friendship, a group dedicated to promoting cross-cultural friendship and education in the wake of 9/11, founded Global Peace Partnership, a partnership of American Muslim Voice, Global Peace Partners and Peace Alliance and serves as a human-relations commissioner for Santa Clara County.
You can read more about here amazing feats here.
I'd be really interested to see what the actual measures of success are for these interfaith groups. It would be awesome to see a comprehensive poll on American views of Muslim Americans.
Sundas seems like an amazing communicator and organizer though ... How great would it to see a strong Pakistani woman in California's legislature?
Posted by neela at 11:25 PM | Comments (0)
Samina Faheem Sundas is doing the damn thing.
Along with winning a prestigious Jefferson Award -- a national award, administered by the American Institute of Public Service, given to those making a difference in his or her community -- she founded American Muslim Voice, serves on the steering committee for Multifaith Voices for Peace and Justice in Palo Alto, is co-founder of Fear to Friendship, a group dedicated to promoting cross-cultural friendship and education in the wake of 9/11, founded Global Peace Partnership, a partnership of American Muslim Voice, Global Peace Partners and Peace Alliance and serves as a human-relations commissioner for Santa Clara County.
You can read more about here amazing feats here.
I'd be really interested to see what the actual measures of success are for these interfaith groups. It would be awesome to see a comprehensive poll on American views of Muslim Americans.
Sundas seems like an amazing communicator and organizer though ... How great would it to see a strong Pakistani woman in California's legislature?
Posted by neela at 11:25 PM | Comments (0)
Samina Faheem Sundas is doing the damn thing.
Along with winning a prestigious Jefferson Award -- a national award, administered by the American Institute of Public Service, given to those making a difference in his or her community -- she founded American Muslim Voice, serves on the steering committee for Multifaith Voices for Peace and Justice in Palo Alto, is co-founder of Fear to Friendship, a group dedicated to promoting cross-cultural friendship and education in the wake of 9/11, founded Global Peace Partnership, a partnership of American Muslim Voice, Global Peace Partners and Peace Alliance and serves as a human-relations commissioner for Santa Clara County.
You can read more about here amazing feats here.
I'd be really interested to see what the actual measures of success are for these interfaith groups. It would be awesome to see a comprehensive poll on American views of Muslim Americans.
Sundas seems like an amazing communicator and organizer though ... How great would it to see a strong Pakistani woman in California's legislature?
Posted by neela at 11:25 PM | Comments (0)
One the perks of the AAIFF was seeing the work of friends and colleagues on the big screen. Ling Liu, director of Officer Tsukamoto, had her New York premiere last week. Ling and I met as students at Cal's Asian Studies Program (I dropped out; she didn’t.) In 2004, we entered the journalism program, where she produced her debut film.
Officer Tsukamoto takes us back to August 20, 1970, when a 28-year-old Berkeley police officer was shot and killed during a routine traffic stop. Ron Tsukamoto was born in the Tule Lake Japanese American internment camp, and became one of the first Asian American police officers in the country. During the early investigation of his death, police named the Black Panther Party as a group that would have supported the murder. But after a string of dead-end leads, the case closed—only to re-open more than 30 years later. It remains the only unsolved murder of a Berkeley policeman.
Ling flew in for the festival from Hong Kong, where she is a reporter for Time Asia. If she looks familiar, it's because she was an anchor reporter for Stir TV on AZN and the CCTV English Channel in Beijing. Here, she talks to Hyphen about her first documentary short.
Thirty years after Tsukamoto's death, a Berkeley investigator re-opened his case. What's the status?
The Berkeley investigator, Lieutenant Russell Lopes, encouraged the California state attorney general to take on the case. They sat on it for a year, then this past spring, they declined to hold a grand jury hearing. Lopes no longer works for the Berkeley police, so in effect, the case is closed.
Did you contact the Tsukamoto family when you learned that?
I did. They're obviously disappointed. They put a lot of hope into this; for 32 years, they didn’t hear much at all about the case. Then in 2002, Lopes decided to re-open up all cold murder cases. In two years, he made progress with the Tsukamoto case and made arrests. In 2005, he made more arrests. Everyone thought this was the big break, so to have it go nowhere is excruciatingly painful for the family.
What made this murder case so difficult to solve?
It's a tricky case. The people present at the crime scene were Ron Tsukamoto, the shooter and a third witness. The witness died eight years after Ron’s murder, in 1978. Other witnesses saw pieces of the crime, but they’ve all passed away.
How do you learn about the case?
In 2005, the Berkeley police had made a second set of arrests. If it hadn’t been for those arrests, I never would’ve known about the case. I read about it in the San Francisco Chronicle, and I just didn't get it. If the Black Panthers were targeting the police, why did they target one of the first Asian American officers? Was it race-related? And in 1970, how many Asian American officers even existed?
What were the main challenges?
Finding activists who were willing to go on camera. Potential sources shut down when they realized I was producing a film about a police officer that was murdered. To them, that automatically put me on one side of politics, and they assumed I had a certain bias because I chose to produce this film. One told me, "Why do you want to focus on a police murder? There were Black Panthers who were killed during this time—why don't you do a story on that?"
People were worried about how I would portray the Black Panthers. There has been so much incendiary coverage on the Panthers, and they felt the film would just add to that. Also, it was very common at that time, and still even now, to have negative feelings about the police. Because this was a documentary about a police officer that was murdered, very few people wanted to go on camera and admit that they hated cops, and that at rallies, they once yelled "off the pigs!"
The Black Panthers declined to be interviewed for your film. Why?
When Lopes made a connection between the suspects and the Panthers, they saw it as just another way to drag the Panthers' name in the mud—even decades later. That's why it was so important for someone from the Panthers to go on camera and explain what kind of organization they were. Instead, Yuri Kochiyama [who appears in the film] taught me more about what the Panthers were about. She also pointed out that Ron was a rookie with no record of being abusive toward anyone in the community. This was just a guy who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Posted by Kai at 8:19 PM | Comments (14)
One the perks of the AAIFF was seeing the work of friends and colleagues on the big screen. Ling Liu, director of Officer Tsukamoto, had her New York premiere last week. Ling and I met as students at Cal's Asian Studies Program (I dropped out; she didn’t.) In 2004, we entered the journalism program, where she produced her debut film.
Officer Tsukamoto takes us back to August 20, 1970, when a 28-year-old Berkeley police officer was shot and killed during a routine traffic stop. Ron Tsukamoto was born in the Tule Lake Japanese American internment camp, and became one of the first Asian American police officers in the country. During the early investigation of his death, police named the Black Panther Party as a group that would have supported the murder. But after a string of dead-end leads, the case closed—only to re-open more than 30 years later. It remains the only unsolved murder of a Berkeley policeman.
Ling flew in for the festival from Hong Kong, where she is a reporter for Time Asia. If she looks familiar, it's because she was an anchor reporter for Stir TV on AZN and the CCTV English Channel in Beijing. Here, she talks to Hyphen about her first documentary short.
Thirty years after Tsukamoto's death, a Berkeley investigator re-opened his case. What's the status?
The Berkeley investigator, Lieutenant Russell Lopes, encouraged the California state attorney general to take on the case. They sat on it for a year, then this past spring, they declined to hold a grand jury hearing. Lopes no longer works for the Berkeley police, so in effect, the case is closed.
Did you contact the Tsukamoto family when you learned that?
I did. They're obviously disappointed. They put a lot of hope into this; for 32 years, they didn’t hear much at all about the case. Then in 2002, Lopes decided to re-open up all cold murder cases. In two years, he made progress with the Tsukamoto case and made arrests. In 2005, he made more arrests. Everyone thought this was the big break, so to have it go nowhere is excruciatingly painful for the family.
What made this murder case so difficult to solve?
It's a tricky case. The people present at the crime scene were Ron Tsukamoto, the shooter and a third witness. The witness died eight years after Ron’s murder, in 1978. Other witnesses saw pieces of the crime, but they’ve all passed away.
How do you learn about the case?
In 2005, the Berkeley police had made a second set of arrests. If it hadn’t been for those arrests, I never would’ve known about the case. I read about it in the San Francisco Chronicle, and I just didn't get it. If the Black Panthers were targeting the police, why did they target one of the first Asian American officers? Was it race-related? And in 1970, how many Asian American officers even existed?
What were the main challenges?
Finding activists who were willing to go on camera. Potential sources shut down when they realized I was producing a film about a police officer that was murdered. To them, that automatically put me on one side of politics, and they assumed I had a certain bias because I chose to produce this film. One told me, "Why do you want to focus on a police murder? There were Black Panthers who were killed during this time—why don't you do a story on that?"
People were worried about how I would portray the Black Panthers. There has been so much incendiary coverage on the Panthers, and they felt the film would just add to that. Also, it was very common at that time, and still even now, to have negative feelings about the police. Because this was a documentary about a police officer that was murdered, very few people wanted to go on camera and admit that they hated cops, and that at rallies, they once yelled "off the pigs!"
The Black Panthers declined to be interviewed for your film. Why?
When Lopes made a connection between the suspects and the Panthers, they saw it as just another way to drag the Panthers' name in the mud—even decades later. That's why it was so important for someone from the Panthers to go on camera and explain what kind of organization they were. Instead, Yuri Kochiyama [who appears in the film] taught me more about what the Panthers were about. She also pointed out that Ron was a rookie with no record of being abusive toward anyone in the community. This was just a guy who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Posted by Kai at 8:19 PM | Comments (14)
One the perks of the AAIFF was seeing the work of friends and colleagues on the big screen. Ling Liu, director of Officer Tsukamoto, had her New York premiere last week. Ling and I met as students at Cal's Asian Studies Program (I dropped out; she didnt.) In 2004, we entered the journalism program, where she produced her debut film.
Officer Tsukamoto takes us back to August 20, 1970, when a 28-year-old Berkeley police officer was shot and killed during a routine traffic stop. Ron Tsukamoto was born in the Tule Lake Japanese American internment camp, and became one of the first Asian American police officers in the country. During the early investigation of his death, police named the Black Panther Party as a group that would have supported the murder. But after a string of dead-end leads, the case closed—only to re-open more than 30 years later. It remains the only unsolved murder of a Berkeley policeman.
Ling flew in for the festival from Hong Kong, where she is a reporter for Time Asia. If she looks familiar, it's because she was an anchor reporter for Stir TV on AZN and the CCTV English Channel in Beijing. Here, she talks to Hyphen about her first documentary short.
Thirty years after Tsukamoto's death, a Berkeley investigator re-opened his case. What's the status?
The Berkeley investigator, Lieutenant Russell Lopes, encouraged the California state attorney general to take on the case. They sat on it for a year, then this past spring, they declined to hold a grand jury hearing. Lopes no longer works for the Berkeley police, so in effect, the case is closed.
Did you contact the Tsukamoto family when you learned that?
I did. They're obviously disappointed. They put a lot of hope into this; for 32 years, they didnt hear much at all about the case. Then in 2002, Lopes decided to re-open up all cold murder cases. In two years, he made progress with the Tsukamoto case and made arrests. In 2005, he made more arrests. Everyone thought this was the big break, so to have it go nowhere is excruciatingly painful for the family.
What made this murder case so difficult to solve?
It's a tricky case. The people present at the crime scene were Ron Tsukamoto, the shooter and a third witness. The witness died eight years after Rons murder, in 1978. Other witnesses saw pieces of the crime, but theyve all passed away.
How do you learn about the case?
In 2005, the Berkeley police had made a second set of arrests. If it hadnt been for those arrests, I never wouldve known about the case. I read about it in the San Francisco Chronicle, and I just didn't get it. If the Black Panthers were targeting the police, why did they target one of the first Asian American officers? Was it race-related? And in 1970, how many Asian American officers even existed?
What were the main challenges?
Finding activists who were willing to go on camera. Potential sources shut down when they realized I was producing a film about a police officer that was murdered. To them, that automatically put me on one side of politics, and they assumed I had a certain bias because I chose to produce this film. One told me, "Why do you want to focus on a police murder? There were Black Panthers who were killed during this time—why don't you do a story on that?"
People were worried about how I would portray the Black Panthers. There has been so much incendiary coverage on the Panthers, and they felt the film would just add to that. Also, it was very common at that time, and still even now, to have negative feelings about the police. Because this was a documentary about a police officer that was murdered, very few people wanted to go on camera and admit that they hated cops, and that at rallies, they once yelled "off the pigs!"
The Black Panthers declined to be interviewed for your film. Why?
When Lopes made a connection between the suspects and the Panthers, they saw it as just another way to drag the Panthers' name in the mud—even decades later. That's why it was so important for someone from the Panthers to go on camera and explain what kind of organization they were. Instead, Yuri Kochiyama [who appears in the film] taught me more about what the Panthers were about. She also pointed out that Ron was a rookie with no record of being abusive toward anyone in the community. This was just a guy who was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Posted by Kai at 8:19 PM | Comments (14)
Years ago, I was sitting in an airplane when I overheard an older gentleman behind me talking about a film. "I just saw a movie that made me jump from my seat in applause!" His exhilaration was palpable—as if his seatbelt was keeping him from jumping up again. "Seabiscuit!" he exclaimed. "Yes, the horse movie."
During the tail end of the Asian American International Film Festival, Lee Jun-ik's King and the Clown seemed to have the same effect. No, I didn’t jump, but I sensed others wanted to. People were laughing so hard that the chairs were rocking, and during moments of hilarious suspense, they were cringing behind their hands.
Of course, a plotline about an all-male troupe that tries to win the laughter of a tyrannical king is bound to be funny. But this story of two jesters—an ass-whupping alpha-male and an effeminate drag queen – blurs the lines of intimacy and desire through a love triangle that results in disaster. Think The Last Emperor (a horribly isolated ruler) meets Farewell, My Concubine (male friendship and pervasive misery), but add the bang-and-clang of traditional Korean drums, comedic brilliance, and a gender-bending male actor with flawless skin.
Before The Host, King and the Clown was the highest grossing domestic film in South Korea, a zeitgeist-changing feat given its raunchy political satire and homoerotic subtext. We’re talking South Korea here—a Confucian-rooted country that produces more heterosexual sap than Martha Stewart Weddings.
As the popularity of the King and the Clown attests, South Korea has come a long way (though the press tended to gloss over gay desire and praised the acting instead.) Not too long ago, actor Hong Suk-chon lost his job when he became the first South Korean celebrity to come out as gay; he’s now made a comeback. And in 2004, the country's Youth Protection Commission dropped homosexuality from its list of "socially unacceptable" acts.
But on my way out, I overheard a woman debating the film with her friends, claiming that the two main characters were "just friends."
"There was nothing physical; it was purely platonic," she emphasized.
Looks like the South Korean media isn't the only thing in denial.
Posted by Kai at 1:49 PM | Comments (0)
Years ago, I was sitting in an airplane when I overheard an older gentleman behind me talking about a film. "I just saw a movie that made me jump from my seat in applause!" His exhilaration was palpable—as if his seatbelt was keeping him from jumping up again. "Seabiscuit!" he exclaimed. "Yes, the horse movie."
During the tail end of the Asian American International Film Festival, Lee Jun-ik's King and the Clown seemed to have the same effect. No, I didn’t jump, but I sensed others wanted to. People were laughing so hard that the chairs were rocking, and during moments of hilarious suspense, they were cringing behind their hands.
Of course, a plotline about an all-male troupe that tries to win the laughter of a tyrannical king is bound to be funny. But this story of two jesters—an ass-whupping alpha-male and an effeminate drag queen – blurs the lines of intimacy and desire through a love triangle that results in disaster. Think The Last Emperor (a horribly isolated ruler) meets Farewell, My Concubine (male friendship and pervasive misery), but add the bang-and-clang of traditional Korean drums, comedic brilliance, and a gender-bending male actor with flawless skin.
Before The Host, King and the Clown was the highest grossing domestic film in South Korea, a zeitgeist-changing feat given its raunchy political satire and homoerotic subtext. We’re talking South Korea here—a Confucian-rooted country that produces more heterosexual sap than Martha Stewart Weddings.
As the popularity of the King and the Clown attests, South Korea has come a long way (though the press tended to gloss over gay desire and praised the acting instead.) Not too long ago, actor Hong Suk-chon lost his job when he became the first South Korean celebrity to come out as gay; he’s now made a comeback. And in 2004, the country's Youth Protection Commission dropped homosexuality from its list of "socially unacceptable" acts.
But on my way out, I overheard a woman debating the film with her friends, claiming that the two main characters were "just friends."
"There was nothing physical; it was purely platonic," she emphasized.
Looks like the South Korean media isn't the only thing in denial.
Posted by Kai at 1:49 PM | Comments (0)
Years ago, I was sitting in an airplane when I overheard an older gentleman behind me talking about a film. "I just saw a movie that made me jump from my seat in applause!" His exhilaration was palpable—as if his seatbelt was keeping him from jumping up again. "Seabiscuit!" he exclaimed. "Yes, the horse movie."
During the tail end of the Asian American International Film Festival, Lee Jun-ik's King and the Clown seemed to have the same effect. No, I didnt jump, but I sensed others wanted to. People were laughing so hard that the chairs were rocking, and during moments of hilarious suspense, they were cringing behind their hands.
Of course, a plotline about an all-male troupe that tries to win the laughter of a tyrannical king is bound to be funny. But this story of two jesters—an ass-whupping alpha-male and an effeminate drag queen blurs the lines of intimacy and desire through a love triangle that results in disaster. Think The Last Emperor (a horribly isolated ruler) meets Farewell, My Concubine (male friendship and pervasive misery), but add the bang-and-clang of traditional Korean drums, comedic brilliance, and a gender-bending male actor with flawless skin.
Before The Host, King and the Clown was the highest grossing domestic film in South Korea, a zeitgeist-changing feat given its raunchy political satire and homoerotic subtext. Were talking South Korea here—a Confucian-rooted country that produces more heterosexual sap than Martha Stewart Weddings.
As the popularity of the King and the Clown attests, South Korea has come a long way (though the press tended to gloss over gay desire and praised the acting instead.) Not too long ago, actor Hong Suk-chon lost his job when he became the first South Korean celebrity to come out as gay; hes now made a comeback. And in 2004, the country's Youth Protection Commission dropped homosexuality from its list of "socially unacceptable" acts.
But on my way out, I overheard a woman debating the film with her friends, claiming that the two main characters were "just friends."
"There was nothing physical; it was purely platonic," she emphasized.
Looks like the South Korean media isn't the only thing in denial.
Posted by Kai at 1:49 PM | Comments (0)
Tie a Yellow Ribbon director Joy Dietrich. Photo by Seng Chen.
Joy Dietrich's film Tie a Yellow Ribbon will screen at AAIFF tonight at 9:15pm, and from what I understand, it's very close to selling out the theater. Also, there will be an afterparty a short walk away from the Asia Society at Stir with Dietrich, the actors, crew and producers.
I had spoken with Dietrich just hours before it's premiere in San Francisco. (My earlier post, with a synopsis, here.)
I asked her about how she arrived at the different motifs present in the film, such as the use of the Andrew Wyeth painting Christina's World.
Said Dietrich:
The film is about a woman searching for home. I think Asian American young women are sort of sometimes lost in the United States. And I want talk about being Asian and being American. And it's such an American iconographic painting. And the same thing with [the song] "Tie a Yellow Ribbon"—it's so American. ... So I think that the central idea ... is a search for home. A sense of belonging. And that is the metaphor for the film.
Which version of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon" were you thinking of?
To tie a yellow ribbon is to remember, to honor. ... Traditionally it's about war. This [film] is about the statistic that Asian American women have one of the highest rates of depression in the country. And I think one of the highest wtihin in one age group, I think it's 15 - 24...
What ideas are you carrying through [your films]?
Well, because I'm a Korean adoptee, I'm really really interested in making connection, the idea of connection. How when you feel so disconnected, do you stay frozen, or do you make that first leap of connecting with other people? I think for adoptees, it's particularly hard to trust people. And the feeling of abandonment is something you will have carry with you for the rest of your life. So I liked exploring the ideas of adoption, connection, disconnection, alienation, and you know, I generally do social issue films. I'm thinking already of my next project, and I'd like to do one more theme on birth and adoption. ... For some reason every Korean adoptee is now doing a film, a documentary—and I'm just not interested in the mother/birth search, or finding your family, I'm more interested in the psychology—what happens to you on the inside, to adults and to children, and to the families.
--
More recently, she mentioned over the phone that her film had done better at the more generalized film festivals than the Asian American ones, to where she was awarded Best Narrative Feature at the Urbanworld Vibe Film Fest and Best Director at CineVegas Film Festival. It's interesting that she felt it was received better at non-Asian American venues, since it is very much an identity film, and one that deals with a very critical topic—depression and Asian American women. What are the implications of this?
Posted by rebecca at 4:30 PM | Comments (0)
Tie a Yellow Ribbon director Joy Dietrich. Photo by Seng Chen.
Joy Dietrich's film Tie a Yellow Ribbon will screen at AAIFF tonight at 9:15pm, and from what I understand, it's very close to selling out the theater. Also, there will be an afterparty a short walk away from the Asia Society at Stir with Dietrich, the actors, crew and producers.
I had spoken with Dietrich just hours before it's premiere in San Francisco. (My earlier post, with a synopsis, here.)
I asked her about how she arrived at the different motifs present in the film, such as the use of the Andrew Wyeth painting Christina's World.
Said Dietrich:
The film is about a woman searching for home. I think Asian American young women are sort of sometimes lost in the United States. And I want talk about being Asian and being American. And it's such an American iconographic painting. And the same thing with [the song] "Tie a Yellow Ribbon"—it's so American. ... So I think that the central idea ... is a search for home. A sense of belonging. And that is the metaphor for the film.
Which version of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon" were you thinking of?
To tie a yellow ribbon is to remember, to honor. ... Traditionally it's about war. This [film] is about the statistic that Asian American women have one of the highest rates of depression in the country. And I think one of the highest wtihin in one age group, I think it's 15 - 24...
What ideas are you carrying through [your films]?
Well, because I'm a Korean adoptee, I'm really really interested in making connection, the idea of connection. How when you feel so disconnected, do you stay frozen, or do you make that first leap of connecting with other people? I think for adoptees, it's particularly hard to trust people. And the feeling of abandonment is something you will have carry with you for the rest of your life. So I liked exploring the ideas of adoption, connection, disconnection, alienation, and you know, I generally do social issue films. I'm thinking already of my next project, and I'd like to do one more theme on birth and adoption. ... For some reason every Korean adoptee is now doing a film, a documentary—and I'm just not interested in the mother/birth search, or finding your family, I'm more interested in the psychology—what happens to you on the inside, to adults and to children, and to the families.
--
More recently, she mentioned over the phone that her film had done better at the more generalized film festivals than the Asian American ones, to where she was awarded Best Narrative Feature at the Urbanworld Vibe Film Fest and Best Director at CineVegas Film Festival. It's interesting that she felt it was received better at non-Asian American venues, since it is very much an identity film, and one that deals with a very critical topic—depression and Asian American women. What are the implications of this?
Posted by rebecca at 4:30 PM | Comments (0)
Tie a Yellow Ribbon director Joy Dietrich. Photo by Seng Chen.
Joy Dietrich's film Tie a Yellow Ribbon will screen at AAIFF tonight at 9:15pm, and from what I understand, it's very close to selling out the theater. Also, there will be an afterparty a short walk away from the Asia Society at Stir with Dietrich, the actors, crew and producers.
I had spoken with Dietrich just hours before it's premiere in San Francisco. (My earlier post, with a synopsis, here.)
I asked her about how she arrived at the different motifs present in the film, such as the use of the Andrew Wyeth painting Christina's World.
Said Dietrich:
The film is about a woman searching for home. I think Asian American young women are sort of sometimes lost in the United States. And I want talk about being Asian and being American. And it's such an American iconographic painting. And the same thing with [the song] "Tie a Yellow Ribbon"—it's so American. ... So I think that the central idea ... is a search for home. A sense of belonging. And that is the metaphor for the film.
Which version of "Tie a Yellow Ribbon" were you thinking of?
To tie a yellow ribbon is to remember, to honor. ... Traditionally it's about war. This [film] is about the statistic that Asian American women have one of the highest rates of depression in the country. And I think one of the highest wtihin in one age group, I think it's 15 - 24...
What ideas are you carrying through [your films]?
Well, because I'm a Korean adoptee, I'm really really interested in making connection, the idea of connection. How when you feel so disconnected, do you stay frozen, or do you make that first leap of connecting with other people? I think for adoptees, it's particularly hard to trust people. And the feeling of abandonment is something you will have carry with you for the rest of your life. So I liked exploring the ideas of adoption, connection, disconnection, alienation, and you know, I generally do social issue films. I'm thinking already of my next project, and I'd like to do one more theme on birth and adoption. ... For some reason every Korean adoptee is now doing a film, a documentary—and I'm just not interested in the mother/birth search, or finding your family, I'm more interested in the psychology—what happens to you on the inside, to adults and to children, and to the families.
--
More recently, she mentioned over the phone that her film had done better at the more generalized film festivals than the Asian American ones, to where she was awarded Best Narrative Feature at the Urbanworld Vibe Film Fest and Best Director at CineVegas Film Festival. It's interesting that she felt it was received better at non-Asian American venues, since it is very much an identity film, and one that deals with a very critical topic—depression and Asian American women. What are the implications of this?
Posted by rebecca at 4:30 PM | Comments (0)
When I was younger, I was a hardcore reader. I read in every place that it was socially acceptable to do so — and even a few where it was not (church) or was technically challenging (the bath). I even had one of those little pocket lights that attached to the tops of books so I could read at night riding in my parents' car on the drive home.
I wanted to read more about Asian American kids like myself, but at that time Asian American young adult fiction basically meant Lawrence Yep , who was a big favorite of mine. Hungry for anything else that might reflect my community, I also read the entirely age-inappropriate Amy Tan, as well as books set in Communist China (Anchee Min) and modern Japan (Banana Yoshimoto - highly recommended!).
But I really wanted to read a Babysitter's Club that was about Asian Americans; a Sweet Valley High about Asian Americans; and a Sleepover Club about Asian Americans. I wanted to read books about teens who happened to be Asian Americans, like me, but where their ethnicity didn't define them or preoccupy them 24/7, like me. In my dream teen book series, they were just normal teens, who sometimes ate Chinese food but sometimes ate meatloaf for dinner. Their parents spoke English and didn't put pressure on them to study hard, get into Harvard, and marry Asian. They had crushes on other Asian Americans, not white classmates. Their friends were all Asian American.
I realize only now how unrealistic this is - or is it?
I ask you, readers: do you know any books today that portray Asian American youth in realistic, nonstereotypical, non-cliche ways?
Has my dream series finally become a reality?
Should I get out my reading light again?
Posted by lisamac at 3:45 PM | Comments (4)
When I was younger, I was a hardcore reader. I read in every place that it was socially acceptable to do so — and even a few where it was not (church) or was technically challenging (the bath). I even had one of those little pocket lights that attached to the tops of books so I could read at night riding in my parents' car on the drive home.
I wanted to read more about Asian American kids like myself, but at that time Asian American young adult fiction basically meant Lawrence Yep , who was a big favorite of mine. Hungry for anything else that might reflect my community, I also read the entirely age-inappropriate Amy Tan, as well as books set in Communist China (Anchee Min) and modern Japan (Banana Yoshimoto - highly recommended!).
But I really wanted to read a Babysitter's Club that was about Asian Americans; a Sweet Valley High about Asian Americans; and a Sleepover Club about Asian Americans. I wanted to read books about teens who happened to be Asian Americans, like me, but where their ethnicity didn't define them or preoccupy them 24/7, like me. In my dream teen book series, they were just normal teens, who sometimes ate Chinese food but sometimes ate meatloaf for dinner. Their parents spoke English and didn't put pressure on them to study hard, get into Harvard, and marry Asian. They had crushes on other Asian Americans, not white classmates. Their friends were all Asian American.
I realize only now how unrealistic this is - or is it?
I ask you, readers: do you know any books today that portray Asian American youth in realistic, nonstereotypical, non-cliche ways?
Has my dream series finally become a reality?
Should I get out my reading light again?
Posted by lisamac at 3:45 PM | Comments (4)
When I was younger, I was a hardcore reader. I read in every place that it was socially acceptable to do so and even a few where it was not (church) or was technically challenging (the bath). I even had one of those little pocket lights that attached to the tops of books so I could read at night riding in my parents' car on the drive home.
I wanted to read more about Asian American kids like myself, but at that time Asian American young adult fiction basically meant Lawrence Yep , who was a big favorite of mine. Hungry for anything else that might reflect my community, I also read the entirely age-inappropriate Amy Tan, as well as books set in Communist China (Anchee Min) and modern Japan (Banana Yoshimoto - highly recommended!).
But I really wanted to read a Babysitter's Club that was about Asian Americans; a Sweet Valley High about Asian Americans; and a Sleepover Club about Asian Americans. I wanted to read books about teens who happened to be Asian Americans, like me, but where their ethnicity didn't define them or preoccupy them 24/7, like me. In my dream teen book series, they were just normal teens, who sometimes ate Chinese food but sometimes ate meatloaf for dinner. Their parents spoke English and didn't put pressure on them to study hard, get into Harvard, and marry Asian. They had crushes on other Asian Americans, not white classmates. Their friends were all Asian American.
I realize only now how unrealistic this is - or is it?
I ask you, readers: do you know any books today that portray Asian American youth in realistic, nonstereotypical, non-cliche ways?
Has my dream series finally become a reality?
Should I get out my reading light again?
Posted by lisamac at 3:45 PM | Comments (4)
I should have known better than to think that I could blog while on vacation in New York City. For one, I enter a time warp (especially when it's hot out, unlike the presently chilly San Francisco). Secondly, becoming the pack mule to my laptop while trekking around Manhattan in search of free wireless led me to realize why there are so many neon signs for businesses that say "Back and Foot Rub for Men and Women." So you can see why I lagged in posting about the good times had at the Asian American International Film Festival.
Justin Lin's mockumentary Finishing the Game was AAIFF's opening film last Thursday (here's what Neela thought of it at SFIAAFF), and the gala reception was held at the top floor of the Asia Society. Keeping in line with Finishing the Game, the party had a 70s theme, with a costume contest and a plane ticket for the winner to Hong Kong.
In spite of the rollergirl and the disco kings and queens, this dude won the contest:
"You even have red wine!" I said.
"I'm glad you noticed," he said.
He was deemed the winner by the film's cast (Sung Kang, Monique Curnen, McCaleb Burnett) and director Justin Lin:
Along with Roger Fan, who was pulling out the nonstop funny:
The guy in the middle is Asian Cinevision Board Member Greg Chew, a co-founder of Dae Advertising and now a Gavin Newsom-appointed SF Film commissioner. Mr. Chew knows how to party.
More on the fest to follow...
Posted by rebecca at 9:57 PM | Comments (1)
I should have known better than to think that I could blog while on vacation in New York City. For one, I enter a time warp (especially when it's hot out, unlike the presently chilly San Francisco). Secondly, becoming the pack mule to my laptop while trekking around Manhattan in search of free wireless led me to realize why there are so many neon signs for businesses that say "Back and Foot Rub for Men and Women." So you can see why I lagged in posting about the good times had at the Asian American International Film Festival.
Justin Lin's mockumentary Finishing the Game was AAIFF's opening film last Thursday (here's what Neela thought of it at SFIAAFF), and the gala reception was held at the top floor of the Asia Society. Keeping in line with Finishing the Game, the party had a 70s theme, with a costume contest and a plane ticket for the winner to Hong Kong.
In spite of the rollergirl and the disco kings and queens, this dude won the contest:
"You even have red wine!" I said.
"I'm glad you noticed," he said.
He was deemed the winner by the film's cast (Sung Kang, Monique Curnen, McCaleb Burnett) and director Justin Lin:
Along with Roger Fan, who was pulling out the nonstop funny:
The guy in the middle is Asian Cinevision Board Member Greg Chew, a co-founder of Dae Advertising and now a Gavin Newsom-appointed SF Film commissioner. Mr. Chew knows how to party.
More on the fest to follow...
Posted by rebecca at 9:57 PM | Comments (1)
I should have known better than to think that I could blog while on vacation in New York City. For one, I enter a time warp (especially when it's hot out, unlike the presently chilly San Francisco). Secondly, becoming the pack mule to my laptop while trekking around Manhattan in search of free wireless led me to realize why there are so many neon signs for businesses that say "Back and Foot Rub for Men and Women." So you can see why I lagged in posting about the good times had at the Asian American International Film Festival.
Justin Lin's mockumentary Finishing the Game was AAIFF's opening film last Thursday (here's what Neela thought of it at SFIAAFF), and the gala reception was held at the top floor of the Asia Society. Keeping in line with Finishing the Game, the party had a 70s theme, with a costume contest and a plane ticket for the winner to Hong Kong.
In spite of the rollergirl and the disco kings and queens, this dude won the contest:
"You even have red wine!" I said.
"I'm glad you noticed," he said.
He was deemed the winner by the film's cast (Sung Kang, Monique Curnen, McCaleb Burnett) and director Justin Lin:
Along with Roger Fan, who was pulling out the nonstop funny:
The guy in the middle is Asian Cinevision Board Member Greg Chew, a co-founder of Dae Advertising and now a Gavin Newsom-appointed SF Film commissioner. Mr. Chew knows how to party.
More on the fest to follow...
Posted by rebecca at 9:57 PM | Comments (1)
As part of its publicity blitz for The Simpsons Movie, several 7-Elevens around the country have been turned into Kwik-E-Marts, just like the ones run by Apu, the Indian American store owner from the animated TV show.
Whether Apu's character, who, among other things, speaks with a heavy accent, is offensive or not has been debated since he first appeared. The 7-Eleven promos for the movie have started some new chatter on the blogsphere, and CNN aired a report on the stores. (See the YouTube video above.)
Here's an analysis of the CNN report at Racialicious.
Manish at Ultrabrown is a longtime critic of Apu and weighs in on the movie promos. He's also quoted in the CNN report.
There's always a fine line between satire that's funny and satire that offends, especially when it deals with race or ethnicity. I've not seen the movie, but Rob Schneider's Asian minister character in I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry may also fall into this category.
Apu and most of the other ethnic humor in movies and TV tend make a particular group the butt of the joke rather than lampooning stereotypes in an enlightening way. Are you laughing with Apu or at him? That's the question.
Posted by harry at 9:15 AM | Comments (4)
As part of its publicity blitz for The Simpsons Movie, several 7-Elevens around the country have been turned into Kwik-E-Marts, just like the ones run by Apu, the Indian American store owner from the animated TV show.
Whether Apu's character, who, among other things, speaks with a heavy accent, is offensive or not has been debated since he first appeared. The 7-Eleven promos for the movie have started some new chatter on the blogsphere, and CNN aired a report on the stores. (See the YouTube video above.)
Here's an analysis of the CNN report at Racialicious.
Manish at Ultrabrown is a longtime critic of Apu and weighs in on the movie promos. He's also quoted in the CNN report.
There's always a fine line between satire that's funny and satire that offends, especially when it deals with race or ethnicity. I've not seen the movie, but Rob Schneider's Asian minister character in I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry may also fall into this category.
Apu and most of the other ethnic humor in movies and TV tend make a particular group the butt of the joke rather than lampooning stereotypes in an enlightening way. Are you laughing with Apu or at him? That's the question.
Posted by harry at 9:15 AM | Comments (4)
As part of its publicity blitz for The Simpsons Movie, several 7-Elevens around the country have been turned into Kwik-E-Marts, just like the ones run by Apu, the Indian American store owner from the animated TV show.
Whether Apu's character, who, among other things, speaks with a heavy accent, is offensive or not has been debated since he first appeared. The 7-Eleven promos for the movie have started some new chatter on the blogsphere, and CNN aired a report on the stores. (See the YouTube video above.)
Here's an analysis of the CNN report at Racialicious.
Manish at Ultrabrown is a longtime critic of Apu and weighs in on the movie promos. He's also quoted in the CNN report.
There's always a fine line between satire that's funny and satire that offends, especially when it deals with race or ethnicity. I've not seen the movie, but Rob Schneider's Asian minister character in I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry may also fall into this category.
Apu and most of the other ethnic humor in movies and TV tend make a particular group the butt of the joke rather than lampooning stereotypes in an enlightening way. Are you laughing with Apu or at him? That's the question.
Posted by harry at 9:15 AM | Comments (4)
That there above is the first published image of the forthcoming Best of Slant DVD. What is Slant you ask? Slant: Bold Asian American Images is a film festival I started 7 years ago in Houston. At the time, there wasn't much going on in terms of contemporary Asian American art in Houston. So I approached this microcinema, Aurora Picture Show about showcasing Asian American film.
Now, the Aurora Picture Show is a pretty innovative arts venue known for showing avant-garde work. They specialize in short films. They've hosted the likes of artists like Miranda July. Me? I have zero film training. But they let me get away with curating a show. Seven years later, I'm still doing it.
This year, Aurora is starting a video label so that people outside of Houston can see the interesting films and videos they screen. The Best of Slant will be one of their first releases and contains eight audience favorites from past years of the festival. I'm throwing a party for the DVD tomorrow night at Kearny Street Workshop. It's a pre-release party because the real DVDs won't be ready and for sale until the fall. (And might I add that they'll be very beautifully packaged.) But the first 30 people who walk in the door tomorrow night get a free preview copy of the DVD. Soon you'll be able to watch films from up-and-coming Asian American directors from the comfort of your own home. Nice, eh?
This Saturday, the films that screened at Slant in Houston are traveling to San Francisco. Two different programs are screening at the 4 Star Theatre, an independent theater owned by Asian Americans. (We profiled them in the last issue of Hyphen.) So come out and support these filmmakers and a cool venue. Some filmmakers will be in attendance and there will be a Q&A after the screenings.
To find out more about the screenings and films, go here.
To buy tickets, go here.
Posted by Melissa at 2:54 PM | Comments (0)
That there above is the first published image of the forthcoming Best of Slant DVD. What is Slant you ask? Slant: Bold Asian American Images is a film festival I started 7 years ago in Houston. At the time, there wasn't much going on in terms of contemporary Asian American art in Houston. So I approached this microcinema, Aurora Picture Show about showcasing Asian American film.
Now, the Aurora Picture Show is a pretty innovative arts venue known for showing avant-garde work. They specialize in short films. They've hosted the likes of artists like Miranda July. Me? I have zero film training. But they let me get away with curating a show. Seven years later, I'm still doing it.
This year, Aurora is starting a video label so that people outside of Houston can see the interesting films and videos they screen. The Best of Slant will be one of their first releases and contains eight audience favorites from past years of the festival. I'm throwing a party for the DVD tomorrow night at Kearny Street Workshop. It's a pre-release party because the real DVDs won't be ready and for sale until the fall. (And might I add that they'll be very beautifully packaged.) But the first 30 people who walk in the door tomorrow night get a free preview copy of the DVD. Soon you'll be able to watch films from up-and-coming Asian American directors from the comfort of your own home. Nice, eh?
This Saturday, the films that screened at Slant in Houston are traveling to San Francisco. Two different programs are screening at the 4 Star Theatre, an independent theater owned by Asian Americans. (We profiled them in the last issue of Hyphen.) So come out and support these filmmakers and a cool venue. Some filmmakers will be in attendance and there will be a Q&A after the screenings.
To find out more about the screenings and films, go here.
To buy tickets, go here.
Posted by Melissa at 2:54 PM | Comments (0)
That there above is the first published image of the forthcoming Best of Slant DVD. What is Slant you ask? Slant: Bold Asian American Images is a film festival I started 7 years ago in Houston. At the time, there wasn't much going on in terms of contemporary Asian American art in Houston. So I approached this microcinema, Aurora Picture Show about showcasing Asian American film.
Now, the Aurora Picture Show is a pretty innovative arts venue known for showing avant-garde work. They specialize in short films. They've hosted the likes of artists like Miranda July. Me? I have zero film training. But they let me get away with curating a show. Seven years later, I'm still doing it.
This year, Aurora is starting a video label so that people outside of Houston can see the interesting films and videos they screen. The Best of Slant will be one of their first releases and contains eight audience favorites from past years of the festival. I'm throwing a party for the DVD tomorrow night at Kearny Street Workshop. It's a pre-release party because the real DVDs won't be ready and for sale until the fall. (And might I add that they'll be very beautifully packaged.) But the first 30 people who walk in the door tomorrow night get a free preview copy of the DVD. Soon you'll be able to watch films from up-and-coming Asian American directors from the comfort of your own home. Nice, eh?
This Saturday, the films that screened at Slant in Houston are traveling to San Francisco. Two different programs are screening at the 4 Star Theatre, an independent theater owned by Asian Americans. (We profiled them in the last issue of Hyphen.) So come out and support these filmmakers and a cool venue. Some filmmakers will be in attendance and there will be a Q&A after the screenings.
To find out more about the screenings and films, go here.
To buy tickets, go here.
Posted by Melissa at 2:54 PM | Comments (0)
Image from Korean Resource Center
In the recent debate over immigration reform there was a lot of talk about the need for humane legislation for immigrant workers and families, but not enough discussion about how immigration reform would benefit undocumented students.
Immigrant students who are undocumented face big time barriers to higher education. The LA Times reported that every year, 50,000-60,000 undocumented students graduate from high school after having lived in this country for at least five years. And that’s just the reported number! Forty percent of those undocumented students live in California.
There are a whole lot of Asian students that are undocumented too, but you wouldn’t know from how the media has focused most of its attention on Latino immigrants. According to the National Korean American Service and Education Consortium Asians make up over 1 million undocumented immigrants. One out of five Korean Americans are undocumented.
It’s not uncommon for some Asian high school students to not even know they’re undocumented for different reasons. Sometimes their parents just don’t tell them they are until they’re ready to apply for a driver’s license, work or go to college. Other times, Asians don’t consider themselves undocumented because they entered the country legally, overstayed their visas once they expired, and never actually crossed a border “illegally.” Fear, shame or lack of knowledge about current immigrant laws are some other reasons why Asian parents might not tell their children they are undocumented or why Asian students might keep their immigration status to themselves.
Most undocumented students were kids when their parents immigrated to this country, and had no control over whether their parents came here legally or illegally. They may have been in this country almost their entire lives, and attended most of their K-12 education here and expect to go to college like their peers.
Yet once these students graduate from high school and attempt to go on to college, the process can be a nightmare. Undocumented students might not even know they can legally apply and attend college and might be discouraged or afraid to apply in the first place. If they do apply and get into college, they find out that they do not qualify for federal financial aid, which makes it close to impossible for an undocumented student to attend a public university with cheaper tuition. They can get private aid at a private college, but tuition at private schools is much more expensive, which is why some undocumented students opt to attend public schools.
Undocumented students who do attend college often have to work long hours to pay for school themselves. They deal with financial aid officers and college administrators who are not accustomed to dealing with undocumented students. They deal with going to school with other students who don’t have the slightest clue that they are undocumented. They try their best to adjust and have as close to a regular student life as possible.
For undocumented students who can’t go to college because their families can’t afford it, all they can really do is wait for the laws to change. One of my friends who is undocumented worked hard to pay for his undergraduate education himself. After college he applied and was admitted to law school. However, without federal financial aid, there’s no way he can afford to pay for law school and he has had to defer his admission, hoping that the laws will change soon so he can go to school. Hopefully the laws change soon since a lot of young people’s livelihoods are at stake.
Although the comprehensive immigration reform bill is unfortunately off the table for now, Congress is currently considering passage of the DREAM Act, which stands for Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors. The LA Times reports that the Dream Act would enable qualified undocumented students to access financial aid and take steps towards becoming lawful permanent residents. A similar state version that would create a California DREAM Act and enable students to apply for aid to attend California’s public colleges has been proposed and is being considered by the legislature.
The Korean Resource Center reports that the Dream Act provision could be voted on this week. If you want to help support the ability of undocumented students to attain higher education please contact your Senators and ask them to support the DREAM Act amendment to H.R. 1585, which is the Department of Defense Authorization Bill. You can call the Capitol Switchboard at (202) 224-3121 to contact your Senators’ offices.
Posted by carmina at 12:21 PM | Comments (10)
Image from Korean Resource Center
In the recent debate over immigration reform there was a lot of talk about the need for humane legislation for immigrant workers and families, but not enough discussion about how immigration reform would benefit undocumented students.
Immigrant students who are undocumented face big time barriers to higher education. The LA Times reported that every year, 50,000-60,000 undocumented students graduate from high school after having lived in this country for at least five years. And that’s just the reported number! Forty percent of those undocumented students live in California.
There are a whole lot of Asian students that are undocumented too, but you wouldn’t know from how the media has focused most of its attention on Latino immigrants. According to the National Korean American Service and Education Consortium Asians make up over 1 million undocumented immigrants. One out of five Korean Americans are undocumented.
It’s not uncommon for some Asian high school students to not even know they’re undocumented for different reasons. Sometimes their parents just don’t tell them they are until they’re ready to apply for a driver’s license, work or go to college. Other times, Asians don’t consider themselves undocumented because they entered the country legally, overstayed their visas once they expired, and never actually crossed a border “illegally.” Fear, shame or lack of knowledge about current immigrant laws are some other reasons why Asian parents might not tell their children they are undocumented or why Asian students might keep their immigration status to themselves.
Most undocumented students were kids when their parents immigrated to this country, and had no control over whether their parents came here legally or illegally. They may have been in this country almost their entire lives, and attended most of their K-12 education here and expect to go to college like their peers.
Yet once these students graduate from high school and attempt to go on to college, the process can be a nightmare. Undocumented students might not even know they can legally apply and attend college and might be discouraged or afraid to apply in the first place. If they do apply and get into college, they find out that they do not qualify for federal financial aid, which makes it close to impossible for an undocumented student to attend a public university with cheaper tuition. They can get private aid at a private college, but tuition at private schools is much more expensive, which is why some undocumented students opt to attend public schools.
Undocumented students who do attend college often have to work long hours to pay for school themselves. They deal with financial aid officers and college administrators who are not accustomed to dealing with undocumented students. They deal with going to school with other students who don’t have the slightest clue that they are undocumented. They try their best to adjust and have as close to a regular student life as possible.
For undocumented students who can’t go to college because their families can’t afford it, all they can really do is wait for the laws to change. One of my friends who is undocumented worked hard to pay for his undergraduate education himself. After college he applied and was admitted to law school. However, without federal financial aid, there’s no way he can afford to pay for law school and he has had to defer his admission, hoping that the laws will change soon so he can go to school. Hopefully the laws change soon since a lot of young people’s livelihoods are at stake.
Although the comprehensive immigration reform bill is unfortunately off the table for now, Congress is currently considering passage of the DREAM Act, which stands for Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors. The LA Times reports that the Dream Act would enable qualified undocumented students to access financial aid and take steps towards becoming lawful permanent residents. A similar state version that would create a California DREAM Act and enable students to apply for aid to attend California’s public colleges has been proposed and is being considered by the legislature.
The Korean Resource Center reports that the Dream Act provision could be voted on this week. If you want to help support the ability of undocumented students to attain higher education please contact your Senators and ask them to support the DREAM Act amendment to H.R. 1585, which is the Department of Defense Authorization Bill. You can call the Capitol Switchboard at (202) 224-3121 to contact your Senators’ offices.
Posted by carmina at 12:21 PM | Comments (10)
Image from Korean Resource Center
In the recent debate over immigration reform there was a lot of talk about the need for humane legislation for immigrant workers and families, but not enough discussion about how immigration reform would benefit undocumented students.
Immigrant students who are undocumented face big time barriers to higher education. The LA Times reported that every year, 50,000-60,000 undocumented students graduate from high school after having lived in this country for at least five years. And thats just the reported number! Forty percent of those undocumented students live in California.
There are a whole lot of Asian students that are undocumented too, but you wouldnt know from how the media has focused most of its attention on Latino immigrants. According to the National Korean American Service and Education Consortium Asians make up over 1 million undocumented immigrants. One out of five Korean Americans are undocumented.
Its not uncommon for some Asian high school students to not even know theyre undocumented for different reasons. Sometimes their parents just dont tell them they are until theyre ready to apply for a drivers license, work or go to college. Other times, Asians dont consider themselves undocumented because they entered the country legally, overstayed their visas once they expired, and never actually crossed a border illegally. Fear, shame or lack of knowledge about current immigrant laws are some other reasons why Asian parents might not tell their children they are undocumented or why Asian students might keep their immigration status to themselves.
Most undocumented students were kids when their parents immigrated to this country, and had no control over whether their parents came here legally or illegally. They may have been in this country almost their entire lives, and attended most of their K-12 education here and expect to go to college like their peers.
Yet once these students graduate from high school and attempt to go on to college, the process can be a nightmare. Undocumented students might not even know they can legally apply and attend college and might be discouraged or afraid to apply in the first place. If they do apply and get into college, they find out that they do not qualify for federal financial aid, which makes it close to impossible for an undocumented student to attend a public university with cheaper tuition. They can get private aid at a private college, but tuition a