While white people profit off mimicking Asian features, people who look like me are dying from them. I have always paid attention to black-fishing and its unfortunate prominence in American culture as we see with popular celebrities such as the Kardashians. However, I never thought I would someday be fighting a similar battle over my own features. 
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While I am proud to see Asian culture such as our music and entertainment rise in popularity, it pains me to watch our culture and even physical features become trends and rebranded as fashionable. It disgusts me to watch Asian features such as “fox eyes” or aesthetics like “anime core” or even “Japan core” be adopted and culturally appropriated by white men and women, who ultimately profit off them at higher rates than Asians. It is especially infuriating to watch white women adopt “kawaii” or “alternative” personas in order to sexualize themselves in the same fashion as anime characters. This persona further perpetuates the over-sexualization of Asian women and the harmful stereotype that they are “easy” and desperate. While white people continue to profit off of a persona based on negative stereotypes surrounding my culture, wear my features like an accessory, and freely enjoy aspects of my culture I was once bullied for, Asian hate crimes spike and people who look like my parents, grandparents, friends, and neighbors continue to be killed in the streets.

Asian features are not an accessory that you can just choose to wear as it suits you. Us people of color live with these features daily, and must face the discrimination, oppression, and even violence it may bring us. It is an extreme privilege to simply hop on a trend based off the culture and features of POC without having to face an ounce of the oppression and discrimination we face. It is exhausting, as a person of color, to have to continuously defend your culture while watching Caucasians steal and be praised for enjoying aspects of your identity you cannot even freely enjoy.

It’s a hard time at the moment. And “the moment” refers to not only the pandemic and what’s happening with racism and sexism but to any time spent existing as a POC, a WOC, LGBTQ+ or someone viewed as Other, as ‘on the outskirts of society’ (because ‘society’ as we know consists soley of straight cis white men amiright?) 

The toll on our mental health generally means that self care is vital. Protecting our peace is vital. 

This is a skill that needs to be developed and actively practised, particularly whilst living amongst a capitalist society with its’ hustle 24/7 values of productivity and visibility, and heavy social media use. For an activist, or a person who is outspoken about their values (for their personal or business or both) – there is a self placed pressure to be always an advocate/educator. To represent your community, to add your voice to the conversation because of lack of representation, because of heinous hate and violence against your community, because it’s so important. 

And it IS SO IMPORTANT. But, so is staying well. 

I write this because I had a situation recently in which, I did not call something out. Something racist against East Asians, in a white space – an online community of female founders/businesswomen. I did not educate a white person and try and prompt change, instead I left the space. 

Now, I’m the kind of person who ALWAYS says something. From challenging my teachers at school, arguing with drunk strangers in smoking areas outside bars, calling out work superiors and being forever labelled “difficult”, making family dinners uncomfortable by not letting things slide – to my detriment usually, I say something. 
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I am also the kind of person who readily leaves spaces that do not serve me, toxic environments and people, buh-bye. There can be a push and pull between the two, and I’m here to validate the latter. 

The situation: A prominent Cool Female space, I’ve been a member for several years, it has some wonderful women doing great things, and upholding good values, some genuinely excellent intersectional feminists in there, myself included (meek humility begone!). However, the founder I’ve always found a little problematic. The brand she created always felt a bit “white feminist” - but the rock and roll edge tricked me. Rock and roll always tricks me, ever since I was a grunge-loving punky teenager, because it promotes values of The Outsider, of anti-establishment and emotional turmoil of being misunderstood. However, it’s also an incredibly white cis, often misogynistic space, in which I was almost never represented or really accepted in terms of my gender or skin colour/heritage. 

Anyway in this Cool Female space, the founder’s new business launched, and the name was an appropriation of an East Asian symbol. A very common Japanese figure that is easily recognisable as East Asian imagery, also popular to Chinese culture. To be perfectly honest, it’s often appropriated here in the UK - to the point where I have an Oliver Bonas candle in its’ image because I found the artwork so fricken cute, and because I’m problematic as well SMH. 

But she had chosen to name her company this, right amongst the Mahjong Line https://www.thecut.com/2021/01/the-mahjong-line-accused-racism-appropriation.html debacle, the death of Vicha Ratanapakdee, the rise in Asian hate crimes, and a good 6 months after the BLM protests in which white people assured us they were “doing the work”. This particular Founder gave her platform to Black business owners for a few months, organised Diversity & Inclusion workshops for her membership, all the ‘correct’ things to be doing. And then chose to name her new business, from a place of East Asian appropriation. So...I guess you learned absolutely f*ck all, and the ‘anti-racism’ stuff was all performative for your brand? 

The truth is, when I saw her new brand name, it cut me to the bone. Perhaps too much. I realised then just how affected I’d been, emotionally, by the rising tide of anti-Asian sentiment (and off the back of the anti-immigrant movement Brexit), the daily images of Asian elders who looked like my family killed in hatred, my peers being spat on in my UK streets, that bloody Domino’s ad – it had all taken a real toll on me. 

I crafted a well intentioned message to her, a DM to the Instagram of her new brand (launching in March 2021) – and I realised I didn’t have it in me. I couldn’t access my voice, usually so full of conviction and passion and punk-rock hard hitting clarity. I felt overwhelmed by my bruised heart, by the whiteness of the space, feeling like one voice speaking to a thousand heads all turned the other way, disinterested. I wrote a tiny-voiced friendly “Hey lovely, I guess you don’t realise, but...” message. So polite and apologetic, I hated it. I sent, and instantly deleted it. I realised that I really didn’t want to deal with what sending the message would bring. The gaslight-y message back, navigating the faux-friendly tone, the burden of having to ‘prove’ something is appropriation, having to stand up for my community in a way that does it justice when I felt so very small and sad, the guilt when I inevitably did it badly. 

And also – who was I ultimately helping? What was the ‘victory’ here? Who would my emotionally-triggering and draining efforts be for? To spare a cis white woman steeped in privilege, who cannot be bothered to do her own research. And, there is NO WAY she didn’t know the imagery has an ancestral home, that it belongs to a different culture with rich meaning that is not hers to take – she knows, she simply feels entitled to it. 

So, I took a few days off social media, tended to myself a bit – and ultimately, cancelled my membership with the group. 

I didn’t have it in me to have the conversation – which is a bit laughable, as I have spent a lifetime having much harder conversations – but, we are allowed to be affected by racism, to be traumatised, to be in pain. And we are allowed to protect our peace. We do not *have* to cut our wounds open and bleed all over white people who could just as easily do some cold basic due diligence and make another choice. Something that takes zero emotional toll on them, to spare poking at our already open wounds. 

There is an immense pressure on those of us with voices, to use them. However, and I learned this from years of working in charities – you cannot pour from an empty cup. Our mental health comes FIRST. And the onus sadly falls on the wrong people when it comes to injustice – on those it affects. On those it hurts, who are even as they speak of it, being eroded by its’ daily little cuts. The community does all the speaking up, educating, content creating – but what of the silent masses? 

When I was younger I wanted to be a documentarian, to educate and shine a light on injustice – people surely wouldn’t let injustices occur if they could only see it, understand it! I unconsciously carry this energy into my adult persona – the sense that surely people would all be outraged as me, if they only knew. They must not know, let me tell them! But the truth is, my truth is, my energy is better spent talking to my communities of interested people, than to the disinterested. 

So to my community, of Asians, but also of activists, of women, of Others, I say – we must take care of ourselves.

We cannot control the opinions or behaviour of others. We can be committed to fighting injustice, and committed to protecting our peace. We do not have to over extend or over share ourselves. Our voices and energy are precious. Only advocate and educate as much as you are able without compromising your mental health. If we spend energy building up our community, we are better supported individually. We can let things slide when we need to, safe in the knowledge that another of us will pick it up. 

I think of it like staggered breathing in a choir. When a long note is sung, it can be sustained indefinitely, eternally, because it’s a collection of voices singing as one but is not only one. Each individual can take a breath, safe in the knowledge that the note continues on until they can rejoin it, then allowing someone else to breathe. That’s how we fight the good fight yet don’t burn out, how we take time to grieve and heal without dropping the message - by bringing our voices together. 

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An aside: The founder’s brand I refer to here is as yet unlaunched – I’ve shared it with a trusted network of BESEA peeps, so we shall see. 

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We have been taking the past few days to try and process the tragic and unforgivable events that happened on March 16, 2021. For us and our families, it’s a reminder that being Asian-American today could mean you’ll be targeted for the way you look. But for the families and friends of those who passed away, it’s a void that may never be full again.

So first, we would like to remember and honor the victims and their families:

Xiaojie Tan
Daoyou Feng
Delaina Ashley Yaun Gonzalez
Paul Andre Michels
Soon Chung Park
Hyun Grant
Suncha Kim
Yong Ae Yue 
 
Statements from DeclarASIAN Co-Founders:

Carina Sun: "I live with my Chinese-American immigrant parents and my grandparents. I never used to worry about my own life or my parents’ when we’d go to the grocery store, or the mall, or the city. But now, I do. Every week when my mom goes grocery shopping, I get so scared. I remember the time a security guard didn’t let her in because she was Chinese, and she came home without buying anything that day. I remember when my grandpa went fishing, and was being taunted by a truck full of white men. He couldn’t understand them, so he just smiled and nodded. I remember all the times I was made fun of for having small eyes, being called slurs, given side-glances by strangers.
I’m scared everyday for the safety of my family and my friends, who are targeted solely for the color of their skin. And it’s so sad and awful that this is our reality. The statistics that invade my mind when I leave my house: 150% increase in Asian-American hate crimes in the past year, 1900% in NYC. These may even be undercounted due to the many hate crimes that go unreported. This cannot keep happening, and it is up to us to continue fighting for our community and condemning these crimes."
 
Claire Cao: "It is deeply concerning to me that #StopAsianHate was a cause my non-Asian friends only began to advocate once a terrible headline-making incident occurred and aesthetically pleasing infographics were made about it. This was truly the first time, I believe, since DeclarASIAN’s founding in 2017 that Asians were not the only ones speaking up for themselves. At many times in the past few years, I have felt like we’ve been hitting a dead end— how can we really make people care or make a tangible difference? How can Asians make real progress if we are the only ones looking out for ourselves while those who hold the power in our society turn a blind eye?

 
And of course this sweet little PSA cannot just stop performative behavior, and I realize that movements are very much dependent on marketing, but the little bit of traction the Asian activism movement has gained recently makes me hopeful that wider audiences are finally waking up to Asian realities.
 
Because of the model minority stereotype, Asians have never fit neatly into any easily-marketable narrative of struggle— yet the rise of Asian hate crimes has shone a glaring light upon the silent struggle they’ve endured as “perpetual foreigners” and the fight that they’ve been fighting alone. Our fight actually began long ago, from the first Asian Americans who fought against Exclusion and discriminatory citizenship laws in SCOTUS in the 1800s, to the murder of Vincent Chin in the 80s, all the way until now. And now, more than ever, is the time when Asian brothers and sisters could use others’ support the most.
 
After headlines disappear and even the pandemic ends, Asian hate will not— it persisted long before and will persist long after. Can we count on your support for the Asian American community to persist as well? This doesn’t necessarily have to manifest into activism, protests, and infographics— it means calling out your own friends for their micro-aggressions. It means educating the young children in your life about what tolerance is. Though it seems that Asians’ status as Americans (both legally and socially) has been repeatedly questioned throughout history, helping them is just about the most American thing you can do right now."
 
 

Here are some ways you can help:
 
1. Continue to spread awareness. It was amazing to see so many social media stories flooded with support for the Asian-American community these past few days, but it isn’t over yet. Asian-American hate crimes have been consistently happening for the past year – but they rarely have major news coverage. Unless we consistently condemn them and actively try to put a stop to them, they will keep happening. Share resources, share your support, share your voice.

2. Support and donate to Asian advocacy groups. Here are a few of our favorites. 
Asian Americans Advancing Justice
Hate Is a Virus
Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund
Asian Mental Health Collective
Save Our Chinatowns

3. Support your local Asian-owned businesses. We can all help by reaching out to the Asian-Americans in our immediate communities, whether its classmates, teachers, restaurant owners, etc. and making them feel more welcome and secure. It’s a difficult and scary time for all Asian-Americans, and especially those who still have to go to work in the cities and run their small businesses. They are truly so, so strong. We can all do our part to make their days a little better by being there and supporting them.

4. Educate yourself. There is an alarming lack of focus on Asian-American and POC history in general in the U.S. education system. This contributes to the lack of awareness when situations like this arise. In order to become more aware, we need to start educating ourselves. Read books by Asian-American authors like Cathy Park Hong’s Minor Feelings, or Ronald Takaki’s A Different Mirror. Or, take a look through our history lessons highlighting Asian-American history posted for AAPI National Heritage Month. If it isn’t already, make it a priority to keep yourself educated on the history and current events of Asian-Americans, because it makes all the difference. 
 
To our readers: we truly hope you stay safe and take all the time you need to recover. The recent Atlanta shootings and the past year of non-stop Asian-American hate crimes is a lot to handle, and it takes time to process. The Asian-American community is going through a scary time right now, and we can all do our parts in coming together and supporting one another as much as possible. We are here for all of you, and hope that you and your families stay safe.
 
-Carina & Claire

    Since I went on a foreign exchange to Osaka, Japan and bonded deeply with my host family, I thought it would be interesting to ask my host sister and other friends their thoughts on tattoos. The reactions were all different. For the first time, I felt that flushed face, full of shame while reading their messages. All of them said that tattoos are associated with the infamous yakuza (aka. the Japanese mafia), and criminals, meaning most unapproved of tattoos. Furthermore, those with any tattoos, traditional ones too, are banned from onsens (温泉, public baths), pools, some gyms, and it can be difficult to find jobs. Two of my closest friends confessed they thought that tattoos were cute but the social stigma is too great.

    I wanted to know more about the history of tattoos in Japan to try and understand the stigma. Dating back to 14,000 BCE, Japan has a long history of tattoos. Even now, many indigenous tribes continue the tradition of tattooing. Why the sudden change? The answer was westernization. In an effort to become more ‘civilized’, the Meiji government banned tattooing in 1871 and it was not until 1948 did they become legal again. Tattoos became a way to label criminals or were a sign of societal rebellion. The stigma and secretiveness of tattooing remains as many Japanese tattoo shops keep a low profile to protect themselves from police raids. September 2020 was when non-medical tattoos finally became legal but in a recent boxing match, Kazuto Ioka stirred controversy by revealing a sleeve and abdomen tattoo. It was his December match that sparked discussions about the double standard and unfairness. His charges are yet to be determined but will not get special treatment, despite his world champion title, while other foreign tattooed competitors do not face any consequences. 

    I find it jarring how the power shame can have lasting effects over a society. While I will probably never tell my host parents about my tattoo, I hope to share it with my Japanese friends and that younger generations become more accepting of them. One day I will be able to go to an onsen without fear of getting kicked out, but until then, my tattoo will be a special secret of my own. ​

Attic is a Bengali pop-punk band with a lot of influence from Western emo music. I think I found this band looking through articles to find hidden Asian band gems, and this got recommended. Attic has a lot more pop instrumentals than other bands that I found, but once you hear the tone of the lead singer, you can tell this band screams pop punk. For comparison, the lead vocal has that iconic nasal sound that reminds me of Green Day or Blink 182’s singers. Personally, this sounds like something my younger self would be more into. It has the traditional early 2010’s emo elements blended with modern pop aesthetics, which compliments each other very well. There are some people who have a burning distaste for pop punk, but I think that it is a genre that works well when executed properly, which Attic does. If you enjoy softer vocals, less screaming, Attic is definitely a band you need to check out to revisit your 2016 emo nostalgia. ​

This band I found while browsing my Spotify recommendations. Parvaaz is an Indian band which has a more alternative progressive discography with a tamer sound compared to other bands. Many times when you focus on the instrumentals, you can hear the rock influences in their music, especially in their older songs like ‘Beparwah’. The lead vocalist has a voice that is extremely unique, with a soft yet powerful tone. If you’ve watched the Korean show ‘Super Band’, the lead’s voice reminds me of Purple Rain’s lead Chae Bo Hoon. They both have soulful voices, and it really adds to their strong sound. Parvaaz is, again, a lot softer than the other bands that I recommended, but it is still a great band to consider listening to. If you have an appreciation for alternative rock or neo-folk, I think that Parvaaz would fit your music taste perfectly.

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Annie Scherer is a New York-based indie-pop singer, and a second-generation descendent of Chinese immigrants. She was recently nominated for her local newspaper's "Best Local Performer" and in Times Union Annual as "Best of the Capital Region". She recently recorded a live performance of her original song, "Andy Warhol", in LA which will be aired on television sometime this year.

​Her music touched us, and so did her answers to our interview questions. 

1. What inspired you to start creating music?

Thank you so much to Annie for doing this interview with us, and we are so excited to see Asian-American artists continue to rise up throughout the music industry.

Listen to Annie's newest single, "After Rain", on Spotify here.