Fans of the hit show “American Idol” know watching
clips of the terrible singers is an added perk of the show. In
fact, they’ve had multiple episodes highlighting sub-par,
out-of-tune and puberty-stricken contestants who are hoping to make
it to the top of the “American Idol” hierarchy and
score a recording contract.
But what has struck me most about the show as a whole is not the
plethora of talent (or lack thereof), but the underrepresentation
of the Asian population.
I’m offended that the Asians who were fortunate enough to
have their 15 minutes of fame were, on the whole, ridiculed by the
American population.
The most visible case is William Hung, whose audition has set
off not only a wave of “fan” Web sites, but has also
boosted him to instant popularity on the University of California,
Berkeley, campus and elsewhere. But the burning question in my head
has been, “Are they laughing at him, or with him?”
Maybe he suspects he is being made fun of, or maybe he is
pleasantly deluded ““ like many people might be if they could
bask in the limelight of popularity. However, what offends me is
the continuing stereotypical portrayal of Asians in the music
industry, other sectors of the entertainment industry, and society
as a whole.
When the primary stereotype of an Asian male is a person who is
studious, submissive and severely lacking in sex appeal, it becomes
the standard into which all Asians are pigeonholed by those who do
not regularly interact with them.
As a person of Asian descent, born and raised in Ohio and
California, I have experienced my fair share of racist comments and
jokes about having small eyes. I have encountered many ““
young and old ““ who assume I can’t speak English and
who believe my math abilities must be excellent because my last
name is Woo.
Unfortunately, these remarks reflect an ignorance that has not
dissipated with the passage of time or high school multicultural
assemblies. Instead, these pejorative stereotypes linger,
perpetuated through mainstream culture and the media.
I think it is extremely telling that most Asians who have
succeeded in Hollywood are stars like Lucy Liu, whose almond-shaped
eyes are seen as exotic by the media, or people like Jackie Chan,
Chow Yun Fat and Jet Li, whose martial arts movies continue to
popularize them in Western culture.
But the link that connects them all, including amateur singers
like Hung, is that their success is grounded in the fact that they
embody stereotypes Americans have bestowed upon those of Asian
descent.
Would Jackie Chan or Jet Li have succeeded in Hollywood if he
did a romantic comedy or a movie without martial arts? Similarly,
would Hung have caused such an uproar in the media if he
wasn’t a confirmation of what the United States considers a
stereotypical Asian: a “smart” student from a
top-ranked school with an accent peppered with poor grammar; an
“unfashionable” dresser with a large backpack and hair
combed to one side; and an “immigrant” with a humble
personality to match? Is he famous because of his dance moves, or
is it because he validates the common beliefs that American society
clings to?
Only those naive enough to think racism in the United States is
extinct would also believe that Hung’s wide appeal is based
solely on his lack of singing talent. It is not due to a lack of
effort by aspiring Asian actors and musicians that these racial
stereotypes persist.
Hollywood, and much of the American public, has refused to give
up demeaning stereotypes which have prevented Asians from being
portrayed in an accurate and complete manner. While it’s nice
Hung is getting his 15 minutes, it’s important to recognize
why, and at what cost.
Woo is a fifth-year psychology and English student.