A Positive Hapa
Part of being in a small group (and though we’d like to think otherwise, being Hapa together combined with being aware of being Hapa is a small group) is we tend to get a bit insular sometimes. As in sometimes people get to know each other’s business too much and lose focus on the big picture. Big picture as in working together to expand Hapa awareness, recognition, and celebration.
I remember “back in the day” when it was a fairly small O.G. crew (or O.H. crew if you prefer) … Teresa Williams (now Williams-Léon), Cindie Nakashima, Valina Houston, Steve Kich, Curtiss Rooks, Reg Daniels, Paul Spickard, Steve Ropp, Amy Hill, … many others. We didn’t always agree on things, but we got along and pretty much always supported each other because we knew anything anyone did was better than what we had before (which was nothing). Then came the other HIF co-founders, supporters, academics, and artists … Greg Mayeda, Eric Tate, Sheila Chung, Wei Ming Dariotis, Mika Tanner, Dede Howard, Erika Anderson, Anthony Yuen, Claire Light … on and on. Then the east coast and mid-west orgs stepped in, more and more people. Filmmakers like Greg Pak, Eric Byler, Stuart Gaffney … many others I could go on forever with. And I haven’t even touched on the writers, playwrites, artists, and actors. All good.
Now we’re at a point where our critical mass has been somewhat achieved, yet our notoriety in mainstream awareness hasn’t. Yet. We have websites, student groups, social networks, clubs, community organizations, some literature, some film, some new media, and now finally — we sit at the cusp of mainstream awareness regarding multiracial issues. That rocks. And I wish everybody else pushing for this in their respective ways all the luck in the world in getting their own particular message across. I wish everyone else felt the same about that support.
Which brings me to the point of this blog. Thank you, Ben Sloat.
If you don’t know Ben Sloat, you should, as I consider him a quality guy. And I barely know him. Ben and Steve Aishman have been working on the 1/2 Asian Project out on the east coast. It’s pretty cool and a nice idea. Check it out here:
Ben is an accomplished artist and photographer, an he recently contacted me after seeing my new book Part Asian, 100% Hapa in a bookstore in Boston. Now, I know what it’s like to be working in the same field as someone else. Academics do it all the time, and the petty jealousies and raging insecurities surrounding them (well … us — as I’m one too) is legendary. Really, many academics could stand going back to kindergarten and learning some basic golden rules over. I wish I could assign that to some in particular.
So how does Ben react seeing a book out by a potentially competitive artist done in a similar strategy to his own work? He emails me and tells me how excited and supportive he is. And he’s genuine. No bullsh*t, no fakeness, just support. And I get introduced to his fine work as well. Nice. Then the guy shows up to my opening at Space180 Gallery and introduces himself. Very, very cool.
The more public you get as an artist, the more share of weirdos, detractors, and hecklers you’re gonna get. Most just don’t have much going on in their lives and you hit some button for them, or they happen to stumble across your work when they’re looking for a target. I know it’s a part of the price of getting out there, and I know the old adage: the more successful you get, the more people come after you.
But sometimes still, I get jaded. And for all the hundreds of wonderful supportive emails from Hapas around the country regarding The Hapa Project, the occassional loose cannon freak email still hits me. I know I’m pretty sensitive to begin with (ask my fiancé), but this is about something more here simply because this project and book mean so much to me on a personal level. I really did make the book and project I wish I had as a kid. And that should be enought. That’s what I tell my students regarding their own work.
Yet sometimes, I still can’t get away from caring too much about what some people think. Sometimes I still wonder how-come-so-and-so-didn’t-come-to-the-opening rather than celebrate the 300 people who did show up and support the work. And I still fervently believe that we have to stick together to make Hapa identity something the rest of the country outsdie our little fishbowl actually recognize.
So Ben — thanks. You gave me some faith.