My Mother's Not Chinese documents the stories of three women who
experienced anti -Asian American hate crimes, within the context of the
socio-economic-political-cultural issues discussed by Asian American
activists within the community. Produced by six UC Berkeley students in
the fall 1997 Ethnic Studies class, this documentary was inspired by an
article in the SF Chronicle stating that anti-Asian hate crimes had gone
down nationally in 1997, but had risen 17% in Northen California.
the women
sylvia
Walking in the middle of Union Square, late one April evening, Sylvia
crossed paths with a tall white man who would scream at her "I know my
mother's not Chinese, but you are!" As a Korean American woman, she never
felt that his animosity was directly solely at Chinese people, but at all
Asian Americans. He ran by her again, screaming it again, this time-
grabbing her and slamming her against the wall. Sylvia felt intense pain
in her hip (which she later had over 4 hours of surgery to replace),
which she said hurt "worse than birth pain." On the ground, a woman came
by her and asked her "Do you speak English?" before she even asked if she
was alright or if she was hurt. Sylvia was so angered by this assumption,
having lived in the US for over 50 years, that "just because she had an
Asian face, [the woman assumed she] couldn't speak English," she refused
to answer. They never found the attacker, who never attempted to rob
her.
As an Amerasian immigrant, Hoa thought she could leave behind the
discrimation that she encountered when she lived in Vietnam. Instead, her
life in public housing in San Francisco for the first five years was
filled with incidents such as children throwing rocks and bottles through
her home and car windows, as well as at her pregnant stomach. Their trash
can was often set on fire. Once when she was robbed at home, the man
pointed the gun at her pregnant stomach. When they attempted to find
assistance through the housing authorities, such as to fix their broken
windows, the authorities would require a police report. Then the police
would require a housing authority report. Being unable to speak English,
they were unable to find other venues for assistance. This circle of
bureaucracy and miscommunication was reportedly not uncommon among the
Vietanamese families who lived in public housing.
Fortunately, she sought assistance through Asian Law Caucus, which helped
her family move out of the area. She is glad to be living in an area where
she can feel safe to walk around outside with her children. However, to
hear her tell her story, is to know that there are other families with
similar problems which is not being brought to the public's attention.
Growing up as a bi-racial kid in south san francisco, discrimination was
sometimes unspoken, sometimes overt. Marjon recalled numerous incidents
that happened throughout her childhood-- name-calling, peers making fun of
her appearance, her lunch, her hair--being one of the few minorities at a
primarily white school. She recalls how one day in elementary school, she
walked to her desk and there was a crude drawing of her with slanted eyes
and a geisha-type outfit, scrawled underneath, "my name marjon. me no
speak english." She recalls how in middle school, a group of boys
threatened to "i'm going to cut you up" and harass her. She
recalls how in high school, groups started to form, and how one, an irish
gang would instill fear in her, even if she was passing them on the
street. A fear supplemented by incidents a few years earlier in her
neighborhood, Sunset district, where Chinese storeowners found their shops
graffittied with swastikas. Marjon's story helps remind us of all the
little kid teasings, strange questions or racial tensions that makes us
question ourselves and show that anti-asian violence is often emotional,
not just physcial.
lan
Working with the Asian Law Caucus, Lan helped us dialogue with Hoa, as
well as contextualize the incidents. Anti-asian violence is not a
straightforward issue with bad guys and victims-- rather there are whole
systems of conflict (for example, the public housing system, the police
and the lack of communcation, difference in culture, history of
the relationships in the neighborhood, all were factors of Hoa's
experience).
francis
A dancer in a company that works with open space, Francis spoke to us
about several pieces her company had performed about identity, immigration
and walls. Working in public spaces in the Tenderloin, their performances
were open to everyone passing by, different from most selective, pricey
artforms. Dance tells us stories and conveys emotions that sometimes words
cannot, and we used their performances to help convey some of the emotions
in the video. Francis also spoke extensively about her experiences as a
Filipino-American woman, and her encounters with people who questioned her
identity.
Watch it when it screened on MAY 9th, 1999 at 5:30 pm as part of the
Eisner screenings of Film and Video from Cal at the PFA. For more info,
call 510-642-1124.
We are working on getting it in various film festivals, and I'll
update this list if it gets accepted. It has screened at the 5th Asian
American film festival in Chicago, and at the 9th annual UC Berkeley
Asian Pacific Issues Conference.
You can contact me, especially if you wish to show it for your class
or organization. Please email me at: [email protected]
Please check out these other sites for more information on anti-Asian hate
crimes. It's a serious issue that is vastly underdocumented by the
mainstream media and it is amazing how many and what type of incidents
have occured.
