Hello. My Name Is _________

Almost all Asian-Americans have it. No, I’m not talking about lactose-intolerance. I’m talking about our “Asian” names. Chances are, if you’re a first generation Asian-American your parents gave you a western first name and your middle name was something from their native tongue. Sorry. It’s not like Rumpelstiltskin where if you guess our Asian name you get our first-born. It was our parents’ way of holding onto a piece of their cultural identity, just in case we got confused and thought we were Scottish or Danish.

My Korean middle name is Jisup (pronounced JEE-SUP). Growing up, I told people it was Joseph (pronounced JOE-SUF) because I got tired of people butchering my name and to avoid a lot of teasing (kids can be so mean). The worst part was your parent’s friends would scream out your Asian name when they would spot you with friends in a public place (Asian adults can be so mean).

Well, age heals a lot of insecurities and Joseph no longer exists. I can now freely offer my Korean middle name to anyone who asks (including a young Korean maiden at a bachelor party who demanded to know what my REAL name was). So next time you’re chumming around with a Far-East buddy, ask him or her for their Asian name. I would love to stay and chat, but I hear somebody calling my name.

Asian: The Other White Meat

If you’re going to be a minority, may I suggest joining us on Team Asian-American? We’re kind of like VISA: accepted in more places (than any other minority group).

Think about it. They’re building walls to keep Latinos out of the country. Middle Eastern? People think Jihad is your middle name. And if you’re African-American, sorry, your crime is the color of your skin. Now if you’re Asian-American, well, you get to enjoy the perks of acceptance.

We’re wise, like The Karate Kid’s Mr. Myagi. We’re shy and quiet, like that dorky Asian kid in School of Rock. Kim Jong Il is adorable. And we’re comic relief, like The Donger from Sixteen Candles.

You see, while other minority groups tend to be more demonstrative when it comes to addressing social inequities, we Asians tend to be fairly quiet because we don’t want to cause any trouble. Consequently, I think we’re perceived as being “safe”. For instance, when white people are sitting in a car and a group of Asians are walking towards them, I don’t think anyone is suggesting they lock the doors.

It’s almost like Caucasian America thinks of us as some darker shade of white. Take this group exercise for example. When an Asian is the only minority amongst a pride of white people, it’s been my experience that the group has no reservations about telling “ethnic” jokes. My usual response is a nervous laugh that seems to say, “Yes, yes, my friend. You are so correct in your astute observation.” Now, I know better and should protest such offensive remarks. But hey, I don’t want to cause any trouble.