What some people don't get about Asian American rep

Star Wars Chat with Russ Culchamiro!

Episode I: The Fandom Menace

Hey everyone! As you may know, I'm kind of into Star Wars. Just a little :-P. Turns out, so's my fellow sci-fi author, Russ Colchamiro... except he sees the franchise quite a bit differently from me. See, Russ and I are 20 years apart, which means we're different generations of nerd. So we decided it'd be fun to talk about Rogue One and our different perspectives.

We did the chat over Facebook Messenger over the course of two days, so we'll be posting in two parts. Part I is below. Or, you can read it on Russ's website with all the pretty pictures (he was much better about formatting the whole thing!

FAIR WARNING – SPOILERS THROUGHOUT!

 

Russ: Mary. We’ve both seen Rogue One. What did you think?

Mary: I really liked it!! I loved seeing new parts of the Star Wars universe. And they all fit perfectly into the world of the originals... It was pretty stunning how much Rogue One ‘felt’ like an extension of those movies (unlike the prequels—which I also liked, but whose shininess always clashed with the rundown universe we love). I also really loved the new characters. Chirrut was my favorite, with his blend of dry humor and spiritual idealism. And I loved his interactions with Baze. I also really liked Jyn. She’s an interesting character, and it was great seeing a flawed and amoral woman lead a film. And of course the action was thrilling (I could go on).

That being said, I didn’t LOVE love it as much as I did The Force Awakens, which had more of the Star Wars spirit. Star Wars has always been about hope and idealism (in the fairytale mold). Rogue One talks about hope a lot, but doesn’t offer much at the end. And I’m not a fan of the Rogue One soundtrack... Apparently the composer was only given four weeks to knock off John Williams (and you can tell).

Still, Rogue One is a really well made film (with some awesome acting and cinematography) and a great addition to the Star Wars film canon. What did you think?

Russ: I actually loved it. It has its flaws, but the intensity drew me in all the way to the final frame. But it's interesting to me that you said it didn’t have hope. Yes, the characters in Rogue One don’t live to fight another day, but they sacrificed themselves for the greater good. Heartbreaking, but I would argue that their sacrifices paved the way for hope. There was a sense of desperation that we haven’t seen since Empire, and parts of Revenge of the Sith.

Now about the music … it was actually my biggest complaint. No matter the reasoning behind it, to me, it’s not a complete Star Wars movie without the classic soundtrack. What the filmmakers offered us was a poor knockoff. There were specific beats in the story that were perfectly queued up for the classic music to kick in, and it was a dud when that music wasn’t there.

But getting back to Jyn. You said she was amoral. How so? I didn’t really see her that way. Disillusioned, yes. But I saw her as waiting to be, pardon the pun, awakened.

Mary: Sorry, I thought we were doing spoiler-free, so I didn’t elaborate. But if we’re talking about the ending... Yes, there ultimately is hope for the rebellion. But not for the characters themselves. Rogue One is ultimately a tragedy, and really, this is the first time Star Wars has been tragic. Even with Episode 3... You knew Anakin was going to be redeemed. Jyn, Chirrut, Cassian, etc... They’re just gone. I didn’t mind how it ended — I thought it worked for the movie — but it didn’t feel very Star Wars-y.

Music: I completely agree. I think it would have been better off if it hadn’t tantalized us with brief glimpses at the original music that wandered off in different directions. Like the theme music over the opening title... It opens with a perfect fifth jump just like the Star Wars main theme, but then gives us different notes, which is just a huge let down. Anyway, enough music nerding for me!

RE Jyn: When we meet Jyn, she’s neither good nor evil. She’s just out for herself, which is perfectly understandable. She doesn’t believe in the rebellion... The empire planting their flags everywhere is "not a problem if you don’t look up." She’s like Han Solo... He’s amoral when we meet him and doesn’t become good until he saves Luke at the very end. In RPG terms, I see Jyn as chaotic neutral. Of course, like Han, she makes the leap to chaotic good at the end, when she sacrifices herself for the greater good.

I loved that character arc for her. Women in SFF are almost always portrayed as either good or evil, period. They’re not allowed to inhabit that gray area of characters like Han. They’re not allowed to be a bit unlikable, yet still the hero. Jyn was groundbreaking in that sense.

Russ: I agree with that. Jyn was given the chance to have a significant yet tragic arc that had some weight to it.

But speaking of intense. Vader. Whoa. That was awesome! Not a lot of screen time but he definitely made his presence known

Mary: Yes!! I loved Vader’s role. That was the badass Vader I always wanted to see... Vader at the height of his evil power. We don’t really see that in the originals, and I think it’s just because of the technology of the time. Now, we understand why he’s so feared, why those Rebels looked so terrified at the beginning of A New Hope.

Speaking of OT characters, what did you thing of CGI Tarkin?

Russ: Mixed feelings. The performance was really good, with the same understated, cold-hearted delivery as Peter Cushing in New Hope. But ... the technology isn’t totally there yet. He looked just ‘fake’ enough where it felt a bit creepy.

Also … what did u think about Krennic? Ben Mendelsohn is a good actor, and I’d love to see the footage of him that they cut from the movie, but I didn’t really fear him as much as he was just an ambitious weasel.

Mary: Krennic? He was all right. He wasn’t scary so much as a representative of a larger evil... Really, he was a high-ranking thug. Which I didn’t mind, to be honest. Vader and Tarkin were the ultimate villains, even though they had less screen time. I wish they hadn’t gotten so cocky with their CGI, though. If they’d only used transmissions/holograms, even full body shots, they could have gotten away with it. But the close-ups looked plastic to me. Good plastic, but plastic nonetheless. The performance by the actor behind the CGI was well done, though.

CGI Leia worked because she’s only seen for an instant. Also, it’s a lot easier to CGI a pretty teen with smooth skin LOL. Also, how thrilling was it to see the original rebel pilots?

Russ: Absolutely! I loved those original pilots! So cool! And one of my favorite nerd moments was learning that the same crystals that powered the light sabers were being mined to power the Death Star. Great use of duality — a physical embodiment of dark vs. light theme.

And how awesome was Donnie Chen as Chirrut! “I am one with the Force. The Force is with me.”

Mary: Yes! That’s going to be an iconic line... almost as iconic as “May the Force be with you.” I’ve seen people quoting it already. I loved everything about his character. Though now, having seen a real martial arts master in action in the Star Wars universe, suddenly all the Jedi look like actors with sticks! Which is hilarious because Chirrut isn’t a Jedi — despite several articles mistakenly calling him one.

What are your thoughts on K2? Everyone kept praising Alan Tudyk’s performance, but it mostly fell flat for me. Some moments were funny, but most of the quips felt forced, like he was trying too hard to be the comic relief.

Russ: Yeah ... I wasn’t blown away. Not great, not terrible.

So .... we’ve kicked around Rogue One. How would you rate it compared with Force Awakens?

Mary: It’s hard to compare the two since they’re such different movies. Overall, I liked The Force Awakens more, but that’s not because it was necessarily ‘better’ than Rogue One. Breaking it down, Rogue One wins for originality, The Force Awakens wins for enjoyability and that special Star Wars ‘something’ (and for soundtrack). I also liked the characters of The Force Awakens more... I think it’s because there are fewer of them, and so we get to know each a little better.

What did you think?

Russ: I had really mixed feelings about Force Awakens. There were great nerd moments, like the first time we saw the Millennium Falcon, Han and Chewy, R2D2 and C3PO. I was cheering and fist pumping! There were some great action sequences, and for my money, Rey is one of the very best characters in the entire franchise. She’s tremendous. And yet ... Force Awakens was, essentially, a remake of Star Wars, where they blow up the Death Star. Again. And Snoke? Meh. Pretty much just Golem with a throne instead of a ring. The movie looked great, but it lacked originality. Whereas Rogue One, I agree, didn’t have the same ‘magic’ as we might call a classic Star Wars movie, but to me it felt much more urgent, intense, and original. And given that Rogue One ends literally seconds before A New Hope begins, I’m really interested in watching them both back to back. It feels like it’ll give A New Hope an entirely different feel. So all in all, for me, Rogue One was the far superior movie, even though it has its flaws.

Mary Fan and I are both science fiction authors and Star Wars nerds, but as we’re 20 years apart in age (Mary the youthful spitfire here – ha!), we thought it would be fun to chat about Rogue One, see where we agreed, where we disagreed, and where this newest Star Wars movie fits on the list of our favorites.

In Part I of this chat, we discussed Rogue One. Here we rank the Star Wars movies.

Russ: OK, Mary. So ... with eight Star Wars movies under our belts so far ... rank them in terms of how much you enjoyed them and would want to watch again most. Include at least some commentary next to each choice. Go!

Mary:

8 ) Revenge of the Sith. There’s plenty to enjoy about the movie in terms of sets and costume and creature design, but really, how can anyone take Anakin’s fall seriously? Sith had the burden of bridging the gap between the arrogant 20-year-old we met in Ep 2 and Darth freakin’ Vader, and it failed. Does Anakin really think turning to the Dark Side and killing children will save Padme? And how did he get there after, literally minutes before, declaring that he was going to ‘stop’ the Dark Side?? The whole thing was so abrupt. Not to mention, I can’t forgive what they did to Padme. She goes from a kickass heroine to barefoot and pregnant, weeping all the time and needing a big strong man to tell her what to do. And then she dies of a broken heart. WTF??? WORST. MOVIE.

7) The Phantom Menace. Another unpopular opinion — yay! I have lots of those about the prequels haha. For some background, I actually watched Phantom before the originals... as a pre-teen in 1999. I thought baby Anakin was adorable, and you know what? Jar Jar was actually kinda funny. Of course, he's ridiculous to me now that I’m no longer 11. Just like the Ewoks. Also, that final confrontation with Darth Maul is the best lightsaber fight in the whole series.

6-5) Oof, this one’s hard. I'm going to cheat and call it a tie between Rogue One and (unpopular opinion time!) Attack of the Clones. Rogue One was a really well made film, yes, but I don’t know how often I'd want to rewatch it (there’s only so much tragedy I can take!). Attack of the Clones was not a fantastic movie, but definitely the best prequel. And I really enjoyed watching it. Forget terrible lines about sand... Did you see that fight between Jango Fett and Obi-Wan? How about that high-speed chase through Coruscant? And the introduction to the clonetroopers was chilling because you know what they'll become... it's a fantastic prequel in how it teases the originals. The costume and set design are amazing. Of course, it felt like a different world from the originals, but I didn’t mind that. .... The Rebellion exists on the fringes of the galaxy, which is why we get all the grungy tech in the originals. The prequels are about the Republic at its height... of course it's going to look very different. Just as Chicago looks very different from, say, Camden.

4) The Force Awakens — Fantastic movie. Yes, it was essentially a remake of A New Hope, but A New Hope is just every monomyth ever in space. And yes, Snoke was kind of awful, but Rey and Finn are two of my favorite characters ever. Finn’s actually pretty original... we haven’t seen really seen a turncoat in the film canon before. It was also a thrill catching up with our original trio, even if it was brief and rather tragic. I think that connection to the originals is what really sparked my fan obsession. And I’m so curious to see what they’ll do with Kylo Ren’s character! I actually wonder if Carrie Fisher’s death (May the Force be with her) will change his fate, since Leia’s role is being rewritten for Ep 9.

3) Jedi -- The least of the originals because those Ewoks get more ridiculous every time I watch the movie (even though I thought they were adorable as a kid). The Force Awakens nearly unseated it, but I love that final confrontation with Luke, Vader, and Palpatine too much.

2) A New Hope -- Gotta love the original, with its mix of fairytale idealism and grungy, almost dystopian tech. Also, it has the best ending, with the way it treats you to little victories that lead to bigger setbacks (like rescuing Leia only to lead the Empire to the Rebel base)... all to build up the tension and make that final moment of victory fantastic.

1) Empire -- I mean, it's EMPIRE!! Need I say more?

Your turn!

Russ: Interesting rankings! For the most part, we definitely don’t see eye to eye here (although we agree on at least our favorite). Ha-ha! Here’s me:

8 – The Phantom Menace – Darth Maul was incredible to watch aaaand … that’s about it. I won’t even go into Jar Jar. This could have been a much better movie had the classic Star Wars mysticism been a core underpinning of the narrative, but, aside from Darth Maul, for me, a big, unwatchable dud.

7 – Return of the Jedi – This is kind of weird one for me. The interplay between Luke, Vader, and the Emperor was pretty awesome, and some of my favorite scenes in the entire franchise. But — and I know I’m gonna get nerd hated on this one — I was never a fan of the Joba the Hutt rescue sequence, and the Ewoks are just too silly. I wanted to love Jedi, especially after Empire, and I saw the original in the theaters as a kid, so they’re forever a part of ongoing childhood, but Jedi falls mostly flat for me.

6 – Attack of the Clones – Yes, the relationship between Padme and Anakin is ridiculous, but I liked the nourish feel to the first half, the sequence with Obi Wan and Jengo Fett on the clone water base was very cool, and, aside from the arena sequence, the last 45 minutes is thrilling. I know it’s not a ‘great’ movie, but I love watching it.

5- The Force Awakens – Lots of cool moments, it looks great, and Rey is an absolute star, but there’s a lot of been there done that here.

4- Revenge of the Sith – For all of its issues (poor Padme, the relationship with Anakin, blech), this is the movie where things go dark and gruesome for our heroes, with Ewan McGregor at his absolute peak as Obi Wan. Flaws aside, it’s kinda badass, and if it’s on, I’m watching it.

3- A New Hope – It’s the original, and the magic is still there. The first 45 minutes feels almost painfully slow by today’s standards, and the light saber duel between Vader and Obi Wan is laughable now, but the characters sing, and the ending is as awesome as ever.

2- Rogue One – We discussed this at length already, but I’ll say that it kept me riveted all the way through, and makes A New Hope all the better.

1- The Empire Strikes Back – Hands down the best. Yoda. Lando. Luke and Vader. Han in peril. You know the rest. Pure gold.

ABOUT RUSS COLCHAMIRO
He’s a science fiction and comedy author who writes lots of goofy stuff, particularly his Finders Keepers trilogy. But if you want to learn more, you’re visiting his site. Click here, or follow him on Twitter@authorduderuss and Facebook at www.facebook.com/RussColchamiroAuthor

In a Nutshell: Why Firefly is Cultural Appropriation

As you may know, the whole 10 Unpopular Opinions thing is going around Facebook right now. One

Asians pictured: 0

of mine was that Firefly (great show! love it!) is cultural appropriation (and makes me cringe while I'm loving it! we have a complicated relationship!). I've gotten a lot of flak about this one from (all white, all male as far as I can remember... not an accusation, just a fact of my personal experience) people over the years... it's probably my most unpopular (SFF-related) opinion ever, other than that Revenge of the Sith is the worst Star Wars prequel (but I digress).

I've given the whole spiel about why Firefly is problematic (still one of my favorite shows! such a complicated relationship!) on countless panels and during countless one-on-one conversations with fellow geeks, so when one of my Facebook friends commented on my post asking me to explain, my in-a-nutshell response was pretty much locked and loaded.

And so that I'll be able to copy/paste it in the future instead of typing it all out again, here it is on the blog:

The issue with Firefly is that it features Chinese culture -- Chinese clothes, Chinese language, Chinese decor, etc. -- but no Chinese people (there are maybe 3 random extras who appear to be East Asian). And it's no better behind the scenes. So basically they took all the cool Chinese stuff but didn't want any actual Chinese folk on their show.

IF the show had featured Chinese (or at least East Asian) cast members and had a decent number of Chinese (or any kind of Asian) writers and directors behind the scenes, this would not be an issue. But why having any actual Asians in a show about a world that's 50% Asian? *eyeroll*

It would also be less of an issue if Asian Americans were regularly represented in the media. But Asians are severely underrepresented (especially Asian *Americans*), so to take their culture without hiring any of their people in visible roles (I say visible because I don't know who did the visual effects, set dressing, etc) is just a slap in the face. (Also, slightly off topic, media originating from Asia -- martial arts films, anime, etc. -- doesn't count as representation for Asians in *America*)

Et voila!

Guest Post by Andrew Joyce

Andrew Joyce

My name is Andrew Joyce and I write books for a living. Mary has been kind enough to allow me a little space on her blog to promote my new novel RESOLUTION: Huck Finn’s Greatest Adventure. I think it’s a good book, but what do I know? Anyway, I’m kinda shy about tooting my own horn. So I think I’ll turn things over to my dog, Danny—Danny the Dog. He always has a bad attitude, usually does not speak highly of me, and you can’t always believe everything he says. But please understand that we do co-exist as the old Soviet Union and the United States co-existed. We tolerate each other. So without further ado, here’s Danny.

Andrew cut short my meditations today so that I could help him out here. For a person that works with words for a living, he has very little to say in real life. He wants me to tout his book for him, but I don’t think I will. Instead, I think I’ll tell you about my friend Mike. I like to write about my friends and what I write is 100% true—good or bad.

I have written about my friend Mike before in other venues, he of Mike and Beth fame. But now, I want to go into a little more detail concerning him.

However, before we discuss Mike, perhaps I should introduce myself to all you neophytes out there. Not that there are many. Everyone knows who Danny the Dog is, or at least they should by now. Oh yeah, there is also my hapless human, Andrew. We live together on a boat. I keep him around for laughs. Now on to Mike.

Danny the Dog

Last night just after sunset, I’m reading the collected works of Friedrich Nietzsche and Andrew is playing with his yo-yo when the phone rang. Because it takes all of Andrew’s concentration to get the yo-yo back up, I decided to answer the call. Now, I understand human, but I cannot speak it; something to do with my vocal cords or my tongue or something. I don’t really care because when I have something to say to a human, he or she understands me just fine.

It was Mike on the phone and he invited me to a cookout featuring hamburgers—my favorite next to hotdogs. He didn’t mention anything about Andrew, so I woofed once into the phone. Mike knew what I meant and said, “Okay, just for you. You can bring him along if you want, but if he gets drunk and falls into the water again, I’m not pulling him out this time!”

I can’t leave Andrew alone. One time I left him for just a few minutes to go and bark at a dog walking its human down MY street and when I got back, Andrew had locked himself in the boat. He was pounding on the door and crying like a little girl. So I have to keep him on a short leash, so to speak.

Anyway, we get over to Mike and Beth’s boat and Andrew goes right to the bar, as usual. I situated myself right in the middle of the throng of humans to make sure I’m close by when the food comes out.

Beth came over, rubbed my head, and gave me a kiss. I love Beth! Then everyone else welcomed me. Mike was in the galley getting the food ready to put on the grill. Nobody spoke to Andrew.

When Mike came out and saw me, he came right up and said, “Thanks for coming, Danny. And please see what you can do to keep Andrew from drinking all my booze tonight.”

Mike was holding a bowl of raw hamburger meat and when he noticed me sniffing it, he dipped his hand in, came out with a big glob of the stuff, and put it down on the deck for me to eat. Now, this is my only complaint about Mike. Who or what does he think I am? I’m Danny the Dog! I have a sophisticated palate; I’m a gourmand. I do not eat raw food! I don’t care if you call it steak tartare or sushi; I’m not eating it if it’s not cooked.

After Mike picked up the meat, put it to my mouth, and me turning my head away a few times, he finally got the message. He shrugged and told me he’d make a special hamburger just for me and asked how I wanted it cooked. Two woofs meant well done. And that’s how I got it. Mike sure makes great hamburgers. He puts a lot of stuff in them, but the ingredients are top secret. He won’t even trust me with the recipe.

Just one more thing: As Mike was mashing up the meat to make into patties, Big Joe, who lives on the boat next door, put on some music and Mike started to do a little jig. Having no hands, I can’t clap, so I barked along with his dancing. Mike ain’t no Fred Astaire, and he ain’t no twinkle toes, but—for a human—he has a certain rhythm.

So that was my night out. Somehow, Andrew did not fall in the water and I got him home in one piece. As I was putting him to bed, I noticed he still had the yo-yo in his hand. I gave him a questioning look. He told me he had tied the string too tight around his finger and couldn’t get it off. As I turned off the light, I looked at the poor guy; he was clutching his precious yo-yo to his bosom like it was a teddy bear.

That’s about it for now. Reckon I’ll get back to meditating on the meaning of life. I kinda already know what it is—attaining unlimited hot dogs.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot—go out and buy Andrew’s book.

This is Andrew again. On behalf of Danny and myself, I would like to thank Mary for having us over. It’s been a real pleasure.

About the Book

It is 1896 in the Yukon Territory, Canada. The largest gold strike in the annals of human history has just been made; however, word of the discovery will not reach the outside world for another year. 

By happenstance, a fifty-nine-year-old Huck Finn and his lady friend, Molly Lee, are on hand, but they are not interested in gold. They have come to that neck of the woods seeking adventure. 
Someone should have warned them, “Be careful what you wish for.” 

When disaster strikes, they volunteer to save the day by making an arduous six hundred mile journey by dog sled in the depths of a Yukon winter. They race against time, nature, and man. With the temperature hovering around seventy degrees below zero, they must fight every day if they are to live to see the next.
On the frozen trail, they are put upon by murderers, hungry wolves, and hostile Indians, but those adversaries have nothing over the weather. At seventy below, your spit freezes a foot from your face. Your cheeks burn—your skin turns purple and black as it dies from the cold. You are in constant danger of losing fingers and toes to frostbite. 

It is into this world that Huck and Molly race. 

They cannot stop. They cannot turn back. They can only go on. Lives hang in the balance—including theirs. 

Find it on Amazon

About the Author

Andrew Joyce left high school at seventeen to hitchhike throughout the US, Canada, and Mexico. He wouldn't return from his journey until decades later when he decided to become a writer. Joyce has written four books, including a two-volume collection of one hundred and forty short stories comprised of his hitching adventures called BEDTIME STORIES FOR GROWN-UPS (as yet unpublished), and his latest novel, RESOLUTION. He now lives aboard a boat in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, with his dog, Danny, where he is busy working on his next book, YELLOW HAIR.

The cognitive dissonance of having a problematic favorite

Back in December, I blogged about how reading/writing while underrepresented screws with your head. Two of the biggest sources of angst for me are 1) trying to figure out how/whether to cheer for things that are awesome but problematic and 2) wondering whether you're doing enough to be an advocate for the change you want so, so badly.

Today, I witnessed a Twitter storm that brought those questions to the forefront of my mind again and twisted my brain into knots (gonna avoid specifics to protect the innocent, but I have a feeling much of Book Twitter will know what I'm talking about). It's one thing to call out a Big Famous Property for problematic depictions of minorities, especially when it's not one you're particularly attached to. It's another when you realize that something you love is problematic. And it's the worst when it's someone you know and adore... Or even yourself.

The first time I read Gone with the Wind, I was a ten-year-old who'd lived in North Carolina for as long as she could remember. And I friggin' loved it. I loved how it brought a bygone era to life. I loved how Scarlet was smart and strong and brave. I loved that she was anything but perfect... That she could be mean and selfish and even cruel, but still the heroine. I loved Rhett Butler's roguish charm. I loved Melanie's quiet strength and wisdom. And... I loved Mammy for her strength, stubbornness, and sense of honor.

Then I grew up. Learned history (real history, not that fluff they teach you in elementary school). Saw people criticize what I'd been calling my favorite book for years. Reread the book and was like, "OH SHIT."

Many denounce Gone with the Wind for its awful depictions of slavery and racism, and they are totally right to do so. There are happy slaves and simple-minded slaves and lazy freed slaves who just want to go back to their masters and get taken care of (*cringecringecringe*). Scarlet's love interests become members of the goddamn KKK (*criiiiiiiiinge*). Mammy doesn't even have a name, or any motivations of her own beyond propping up the white heroine (*curls up into a little ball of pure cringiness*). For these reasons (and more), many would dismiss Gone with the Wind as racist garbage from a racist era. And that is their right.

But... But... But...

But Scarlet is still an amazing strong female antihero, unafraid to be herself in an era where women were supposed to be oh-so-nice. Rhett Butler is still a fantastic, swoon-worthy romantic hero. A bygone era still comes to life--from a certain point of view. And even knowing what I know, even understanding how awful parts of it are, I can't shake my fondness for that damn book.

I still consider it one of my favorites. I tried not to, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't hold a special fondness for it despite its problems.

So where does that leave me?

Denouncing Gone with the Wind (even just to myself) felt like a betrayal because there are so many parts that are so, so good. At the same time, liking it also felt like a betrayal, because so much of it goes against what I believe I stand for.

Gone with the Wind was one of the first of my favorites that I realized was problematic (super-duper-uber problematic). It was far, far, far, far, far from the last. And more keep popping up, either because I take another look at something in retrospect, or I discover something new.

Last summer, I stumbled upon the Netflix comedy Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. And I was hooked from the very beginning. It was hilarious, clever, and seemingly progressive, with its unabashed feminism and its gay African American co-lead.

And then they introduced an East Asian character named Dong and made his name a running joke.

The look on my face was probably something like this: -________-

The conversation in my head went something like this:

Usual Me: Did... Did they just make a racist Asian joke?
Wiser Me: Yes. Yes they did.
Usual Me: But they acknowledged it! They addressed it! The characters KNOW that making fun of Dong's name is wrong! And Dong is a real East Asian name!
Wiser Me: It's still a cheap joke that hinges on an East Asian character's name. Plus, he's a walking bundle of stereotypes. Math whiz who works at a cheap restaurant and wants to marry for a green card? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
Usual Me: But... But the show acknowledges all that! And there ARE Asians who are math whizzes... I was one once! I have family that works at a cheap restaurant! I know someone who married for a green card! These are all true things that happen!
Wiser Me: Doesn't mean it's okay for the only East Asian character on the show to be all these things bundled up... and not much more.
Usual Me: But... But he's a love interest for the main character! And if you look really hard, there might be some actual character traits? Also, it's cool that there's an East Asian character with a significant role in the first place. Right? Right???
Wiser Me: Damn, your bar is low.
Usual Me: Okay, but it's Tina Fey's show. Tina Fey is awesome. Tina Fey is progressive. We love Tina Fey.
Wiser Me: We do love Tina Fey. That doesn't mean she can't fuck up.
Usual Me: But... But... But Tina Fey is one of the Good People! She didn't MEAN to offend anyone! And she's smart... I'm sure she thought about all this!
Wiser Me: And she fucked up. Good People can fuck up too.
Usual Me: Maybe we're being too sensitive.
Wiser Me: If we're uncomfortable, then there is something problematic here.
Usual Me: But we still love Tina Fey and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, and we still can't wait to binge-watch the next season.
Wiser Me: That is all fair. You can like something and find it problematic at the same time.
Usual Me: *le sigh*
Wiser Me: *le sigh*

Oftentimes, it feels like the world is all about picking sides. Are you with us or against us? Team Batman or Team Superman? Are you Us or Them? Are you right or wrong?

The hard thing about finding your favorites problematic is that it can feel like you're betraying your team. Like, "I'm supposed to be rooting for this, so why am I picking at its problems?" And the closer a favorite is to your heart, the harder it is to say, "Wait a minute, maybe this isn't okay." It can feel like switching sides and rooting against something you still desperately want to cheer on. Especially when it isn't you specifically who has an issue with it.

Recently, J.K. Rowling unveiled a few short write-ups on Magic in North America on the Pottermore website. Like most people my age, I grew up with Harry Potter and loved it (well, most of it). J.K. Rowling always seemed so cool and progressive. I was sure she was one of the diversity Good People, especially when she tweeted her glowing approval of black Hermione in "Harry Potter in the Cursed Child". And when I read the first installment of Magic in North America, I thought nothing of it. Seemed a little phoned in writing-wise, kind of like a super high level encyclopedia entry, but I was basically just like *shrug*.

Then I began seeing criticisms of her depictions of Native Americans. They called J.K. Rowling out on treating Native Americans as a monolith when, in reality, there are over 500 distinct and diverse nations. They called her out on using lazy stereotypes about Native American earth magic and such. They called her out on appropriating skinwalkers, which comes from Navajo lore and has real spiritual meaning for many.

Oh. Shit.

Usual Me: Oh shit. But we love J.K. Rowling.
Wiser Me: We can still love J.K. Rowling. But she fucked up.
Usual Me: We fucked up too, then.
Wiser Me: We most certainly did.
Usual Me: We didn't mean to!! We just didn't know any better!!!
Wiser Me: I'm sure the same thing is true of her. It's not an excuse.
Usual Me: What do we do???
Wiser Me: We acknowledge the fuck-up. We apologize for the fuck-up. We fix the fuck-up as best we can. We try not to fuck up again.
Usual Me: But no one reads our books. Or our blog. We are a small-time nobody author. Can't we just--
Wiser Me: No. Walk the walk, coward.
Usual Me: You're mean.
Wiser Me: Tough love.
Usual Me: Can I have a cookie?
Wiser Me: Not until you apologize for your fuck-up.

Bear with me for a moment while I digress from this blog's intended subject and do what Wiser Me advised.

I appropriated skinwalkers too. In The Firedragon, my YA dystopian fantasy about a monster-fighting teen girl. Among the creatures she encounters: a manticore (a Eurasian mythological beast), a spearfiend (a thing I made up), a hellhorn (another thing I made up), and... a skinwalker. Because I thought they were like manticores... mythological creatures from long, long, long ago that no one really believed in that could be adapted for fantasy tales. Like how every author who writes fantasy/paranormal/horror has their own take on dragons, vampires, ghosts, zombies, angels, demons...

But I'm not here to make excuses. I'm here to say I'm sorry. I did something wrong because I didn't know it was wrong then, but now that I do, I'm not going to do it again. I was a total ignoramus, and now, I know better.

I'm really, really sorry.

There will be no more creatures called skinwalkers in that series. If the made-up creature that the Firedragon encounters turns up again, it will come with a different name and an explanation that this is most certainly not a skinwalker, that the creature was misnamed, that treating skinwalkers the same way as manticores and my totally made-up nonsense like spearfiends is not okay. NOT. OKAY.

Again, I'm sorry. I can't unwrite the book that was published. It's out there for good, with my terrible, ignorant mistake glaring from its pages. But I can acknowledge that it was a mistake. And I can promise I won't make the same again.

My turn to be the problematic one.

Which really, really sucks because, for the past two years, I've done my best learn about the issues surrounding diversity, read different perspectives, and advocate for an end to such problems. Fuck. My. Life.

Anyway, back to the topic of problematic favorites.

Diversity is hard. You can do your best to do everything right and still fuck up (like I did). J.K. Rowling probably thought she was helping the diversity effort by including Native Americans in her fictional lore, rather than erasing them in favor of another Eurocentric fantasy. Tina Fey probably thought that having her characters acknowledge how racist name jokes and East Asian stereotypes are would help call them out, rather than exacerbate the problem. Hell, Margaret Mitchell did extensive research before writing Gone with the Wind. She probably thought she was doing the right thing by depicting African American characters in her version of a positive light (Mammy, Pork, and Dilcey are all dignified, intelligent, and loyal characters, which would be positive traits if they had any personality beyond that and didn't exist solely to prop up the white characters).

If you see one, you're missing something.
If you see both, your brain hurts.

Problematic favorites cause a lot of cognitive dissonance. You see two things that are equally true, but that can't both be true. My favorite analogy to this is the classic rabbit/duck illusion. At first, it's just one. Let's say duck (see the beak?) Then, you start to see the other. Let's say rabbit (see the ears?). Seeing the rabbit means you can't let yourself see the duck anymore. But you KNOW the duck is still there. And then you start seeing both... a weird rabbit-duck... and that just makes no sense.

Unless you remind yourself that most things are more than one thing. The image is both a rabbit and a duck. One does not negate the other. They are both correct. And you'll just have to learn to deal with flickering between the two.

Gone with the Wind is a book with an amazing heroine that brings a bygone era to life. This is true.
Gone with the Wind is hella racist. This is also true.
It is still one of my favorite books.
It has many problems. You would be right to criticize it and dump it in the trash and set it on fire and tell everyone to stop reading this garbage.
I can't do that. I'll probably read it again soon. I'll cheer for Scarlet, swoon over Rhett, and cringe when slavery, the KKK, and free African Americans show up on the page.

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt is a hilarious and entertaining comedy with feminist messages. This is true.
Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt depicts its sole East Asian character as a racist stereotype. This is also true.
It is still one of my favorite comedies, and I will almost certainly binge-watch the new season in a single weekend.
It has a glaring problem. Maybe I'm the only one who sees it. I'm well within my rights to boycott it, like I boycotted SNL for years after their racist, yellowface depiction of a Chinese president.
I know I won't do that. I cross my fingers that the next season will stop it with the East Asian stereotypes and lazy jokes. And if they don't, I'll cringe, cringe, cringe until I'm a little ball of cringe-iness. And wonder again if I'm being too sensitive.

J.K. Rowling is a brilliant fantasy author with incomparable worldbuilding skills. This is true.
She built her Magic in North America world from stereotypes and cultural appropriation. This is also true.
I still love her world, the wonderful world of Harry Potter. I'll almost certainly read or watch anything new she dreams up from that world.
That world will still be problematic. You'd be totally right to criticize it and boycott any new movies/books/etc that come out of it.
I'll want to join you. I'll hit the retweet button and read the thinkpieces. I'll probably spend my money anyway.

The Twitter storm that prompted me to write this blog post left feeling split. On the one hand, I really, truly love the object of criticism. I've raved about it. I'll continue raving about it. Because it's an amazing thing, and I want it to succeed.

On the other hand, I want diversity and well-done representation. I want problematic representation to be called out for its problems. I want well-crafted and insightful criticisms, even of things I adore, to be seen and heard all up and down the Internet. This is why I was so disappointed by all the silence I witnessed instead.

Some of the loudest voices I knew of were silent. They had good reason to be silent... No one wants to betray a favorite. Especially when it feels personal. Imagine if you were J.K. Rowling's best friend. Or Tina Fey's. Or Margaret Mitchell's (through a potion that allowed you to stay young and progressive for almost a century). Would you amplify the criticism of their work? Even when that critcism aligns with what you profess to stand for?

I wouldn't want to. But doing nothing felt wrong as well. So I did, in the smallest, most insignificant way possible.

I retweeted something. With a disclaimer.

I don't know if I agree with what I retweeted. I don't think I know enough to agree or disagree. I don't know if anyone even saw or cared what I did (like I said, I'm nobody! Who are you? ;-) If you got that reference, have a cookie). But I saw something that made me think. I saw something important, something that others should see in order to form their own opinion. I wasn't loud, but I wasn't silent either.

Inaction is action. If I'm willing to comment or amplify commentary on things distant from me, then I should be willing to do so when it hits closer to home too. If I don't, if I'll get involved in so many other things but won't engage when something feels personal, then I'm choosing to let one slide because it's one of my own. (Again, I'm really, really sorry for appropriating skinwalkers in The Firedragon, and I won't do it anymore. And I'll do more research next time.)

I understand those who remain silent. I'm practically one of them (after all, I'm keeping things vague to protect what I consider one of mine). And people who seem more concerned about "eating their own" than discussing the issues pointed out... well, I get it. But it's not productive. And it feels like tone policing.

I'm still disappointed. In the silence, in myself.

When it's something distant and well known, something that seems so big and rich that it's unstoppable, that creates the problem, it's easy to stand up and say, "Hey, that's not right."

When it's my favorite, or hell, even my own work, that's the problem, it feels next to impossible. Because saying so, or even saying it might be so, or even saying "take a look and consider whether it's so," feels like a betrayal.

That isn't how it should be. A criticism is not an attack.

As for criticisms that feel like an attack... well, we all know (or I hope we all know) that tone-policing is not okay. Some people have the right to be angry.

Anyway, I don't have a suitable conclusion to this. Because there is none. When something you love is problematic and goes against what you believe in, what you profess to stand for, there are no easy answers. All I can say is that silence is disappointing.

And if you ever see me do anything (else) problematic, please call me out. Call me out as loudly and angrily as you want. You don't have to be nice. Say what's on your mind.

Because conversation is the first step toward progress.