I once hugged a man who called me an Oriental.
It was at a hospice and I hugged him in greeting and in sympathy because his brother was sick. The guy didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, so our hug was brief and awkward. “I’m surprised,” he told me straight away. “I know you Orientals don’t usually hug people.”
I laughed, because I truly did find that amusing. Yes, yes, I know “Oriental” isn’t the politically correct term anymore, and I know that this guy had just generalized an entire race comprised of distinct cultural identities. Perhaps I’m just not racially, socially or historically sensitive enough. But I don’t think ignorance or politically incorrectness necessarily makes someone an evil bigot.
When I was living in Asheville for four weeks, I had the most brilliant time as an “educator” because I was one of the few Asians in the city. Of course, in the Olasky household, I was clearly the only Asian and, according to my dear friend Chelsea, her first Asian friend. I thought that was an honor, and I had tons of fun forcing Chelsea to eat kimchi (she approved!) and roasted seaweed (she hated it), showing her K-pop music videos on YouTube, and complaining about Asian Tiger Moms.
A while ago I was having dinner with a WORLD Magazine editor who also stayed in Asheville for some time. I think she’s the only other Asian writer at WORLD, and she told me that because she was one of the few Asians in Asheville, she felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders to represent all other Asians.
Born and raised 14 years in predominantly East Asian countries, I think I don’t have the same sense of negative awareness of acculturation that a lot of Asian Americans do. I came to America as a FOB, and I expected to be treated and viewed as a foreigner. Even in Singapore, I was still a foreigner who had to explain why I looked and acted different. It didn’t offend me in the least when people asked me questions like, “So do you eat spaghetti where you come from?” because it just opened up a conversation in which I could regale my new audience on how I eat spaghetti with chopsticks and kimchi.
This issue of the “Asian American identity” has been weighing in my mind because currently, I’m working on a few Asian American-related articles, so I’ve talked to a couple Asian American professors and have read numerous articles on the “Asian American identity paradox.” The common thread emphasized is the struggle Asian Americans face between their dual identity as both an American and an Asian— not only because they have an Asian heritage, but because society still consciously or unconsciously perceive them as outsiders, even if they are second or third generation Americans.
I’m not a sociologist, so I’m just regurgitating my research and interviews. I tend to view race issues as a deeply interested third party. Something about the power of ethnicity and culture fascinates me, but more as an observer than a participant. (The exclusion being, of course, food.)
However, I remember I used to bristle when I see Asian Americans segregating themselves by hanging out only with other Asians. I thought it was bizarre and averse to the American principle of multicultural harmony and egalitarianism, blah blah dah dee. That was self-righteous of me, and I’m realizing that issues like acclimatization and acculturation are a lot more historically and socially complex than going, “Let’s all hold hands and sing Kumbaya!”
That said, I don’t want to lose my humor. I still can’t stand PC bull, and I believe it stirs up more conflicts, resulting in a messy brouhaha of butthurt self-righteousness. Sensitive issues like ethnicity and culture need to be dealt with wisdom and empathy, but I feel like a lot of conflicts could have been resolved at the nip with a good ol’ “laugh it off” naturedness.
Because…well, some things are kind of funny. Take for example, this minor misunderstanding over a restaurant name. The restaurant in West Palm Beach, Florida, tried to trademark its name but the state rejected it.
Why? The restaurant’s name is Fuku.
“Fuku” (pronounced foo-koo) is a Japanese term, meaning good fortune, wealth and prosperity—wholesome qualities every restaurant owner desires. But in English, of course…it can easily be misinterpreted as…something else. According to the Florida State Department of State Divisions of Corporations, the trademark was denied because it “consists of, comprises or includes immoral, deceptive or scandalous matter.”
Ooh scandalous. I don’t know if Fuku contested the matter and clarified things, but here in Los Angeles, we’ve got our own “immoral” restaurant by the name of Fukuburger.
Actually, to be honest, it was the name that first caught my attention. Perhaps it is good business strategy after all. Fukuburger started as a food truck in Las Vegas and then drove its infamous name down to Hollywood.
It’s actually all very American and wholesome; their main game is burgers—with a fun Japanese twist. The layout, however, is very spunky, bright and contemporary. It’s as “in-your-face” as its name is.
The ceiling is plastered with a huge Chinese character that says “Prosperty” (the “fu” part of fuku). Walls are painted a sleek black and tables are flashy red.
It was American diner meet nightclub. You see that guy in black tank top and super short shorts in the far left above? That was our server, J.T. He is one fine specimen and full of colorful character and jokes.
I visited Fukuburger with Mimi to celebrate her new PR job at a major entertainment company. We kept our journalism versus PR debate out of this dinner.
We started out with boiled edamame, lightly sprinkled with coarse salt:
Nothing too special. Just plain ol’ edamame, sweet and nutty.
Second appetizer was the “Jazz Fries”:
French fries doused in brown sauce and “crack sauce.” Yeah, they named the sauce after a drug. Obviously Fukuburger loves stirring things up. The “crack sauce” was some kind of hyped up Thousand Island dressing or something. It was actually pretty darn good.
Because it’s called Jazz Fries, our crazy server tried to make us to the Jazz dance, complete with the Jazz hands. I told you he’s entertaining.
And now for the main course! Mimi ordered buta “bacon burger” protein-style:
Beef patty topped with cheddar cheese, apple wood smoked bacon, pickled red ginger, pickled red onions, Japanese BBQ sauce and wasabi mayo. No bun, encased in a leafy lettuce.
Mimi was very apologetic that she ordered it without a bun. I guess I may not be a PC Nazi, but I am one for carbs. Well, I did go through a phase once when I was vehemently antagonistic towards low-carb diets, but I swear I’m better.
I got the kiniko “mushroom” burger with extra fried egg:
Beef patty topped with grilled shitake mushrooms, pickled red ginger, teriyaji sauce, wasabi mayo and an extra fried egg. Tucked between a buttered bun.
The fried egg meant extra charge, but it was well worth it. Runny eggs make everything instantly better.
As we ate our meal, our server J.T. got another table riled up to chant “Burger!” after his “Fuku!”
“I say Fuku you say—!” “Burger!” “Fuku!” “Burger!” “FUKU!” “Burger!”
I left my server a big tip.
Question of the Day: What are your thoughts on political correctness? I think I’m still constantly redefining mine.
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{ 23 comments… read them below or add one }
I’ve been wanting to try a fried egg on a burger. It sounds so yummy, especially runny yolk. I’m also a fan of lettuce wraps because I find them fun to eat. I’ve been hooked ever since I had a Korean pork lettuce wrap at Epcot last November. But it’s not a replacement for bread! It’s just a handheld salad.
I agree with you on the runny egg bit! Sounds yummy.
haha you know maybe I’m desensitised to it all but I didn’t even notice the possible misunderstanding in Fuku. I think I thought of Fugu fish!
I’m so glad you talked about the extremely fit man in short shorts, so that I didn’t have to bring him up randomly and be all “hey check out that guy under the sign that might say got lucky.”
My take on the racial issues is that at least you know where you come from? I think that’s so cool. I’m sure there are plenty of other people out there who, like me, know next to nothing about their heritage or ancestors. I suppose this isn’t a huge deal, but you’ve got a sort of built-in cultural affiliation, whereas I’m mostly left to wonder what (cultures, traditions, foods, appearances?) made me the person I am.
Fuku is probably my FAVORITE place in LA for burgers.
I know it’s different, but growing up as one of the only Jews in a small town I always felt a lot of pressure to be an ambassador – it’s hard knowing that everything you do is attributed to an entire group of people.
I have to admit, one of my friends always used to order daifuku from the local Japanese place and I always tight it was hysterical. I try not to get irritated when people try to racially stereotype me as an Italian…it’s so much easier when you can just roll your eyes and unauthorized about it than get annoyed over everything.
I am politically correct in the situations in which it is necessary or appropriate, but I don’t care too much about political correctness. It is pretty hard to offend me by being “politically incorrect.”
I tend to take innocent comments like the “orientals” thing with a grain of salt–you can tell when someone is being purposely mean and when their just innocent or ignorant. I laugh at almost everything, even if it is purposely mean-lol. I don’t see the point of getting riled up over most things. I love the FUKU burger name and their burgers look delish!
PS I have to admit I did laugh that he called you and Oriental. I mean, it’s kind of cute! No one says that any more!
I try to be politically correct as much as I can but sometimes it doesn’t work out that way. P.S. It took me a few times before I didn’t read the title of your post as a curse word. LOL!
Happy Monday Sophia! This was an interesting post to read. I also consider myself as a FOB even though it’s almost 16 years since I lived here in California. I grew up in Japan till 20, so I was pretty much “made” in Japan and I couldn’t relate to Asian American as much as I do now when I first came here. Now I don’t think I can be either Asian American or Japanese in Japan anymore, but I can see both side of view in a way. And Fuku didn’t seem to be a wrong word when you first mention and had to think a bit. Is that mean I’m still a FOB? LOL. I want to eat at this burger joint!
I’m in my mid-40s, and it’s always interesting to me that younger people have a very different reaction to “political correctness,” to the extent that the phrase means something different now. (I think this is how my feminist foremothers felt!) When I was in college at the end of the 1980s, “political correctness” was the movement that empowered us to confront (or, I confess, scold) — finally!! — our racist, sexist, anti-gay peers. For us this was hugely liberating and signified great progress. For so much of my life, it was elders – teachers, authority figures, relatives – who were outspoken about those things; people one could NOT confront, rebut, or argue with. But armed with “political correctness” we were finally able to say “You know, not only does “gay” NOT mean “lame,” but someone sitting here at this table with us could be actually gay and your language is not cool.” “NO, there is nothing wrong with interracial dating, and your language about that is unacceptable.” The empowerment of a peer group to stop casual hatred! It wasn’t about quashing a sense of humor or anything like that – but being able to stand up against “isms,” finally.
Ah, yes! I get it, and I agree. I think the original “political correctness” comes from a right mind frame and desire, especially because language stirs our thoughts and perceptions as well, not just the other way around. It’s funny because I’ve been reading about expatriate life in Korea, and a lot of foreigners are disconcerted by the lack of political correctness and insensitive language in Korea…things that I noticed and found unsettling as well. I think because we (my generation) grew up in a different political field than from the 1960s and 70s, we are quicker to pinpoint the faults rather than the progressions made. I see it as a never-ending path to striking a healthy balance. But I wonder what the future generation will think about my generation? Haha!
I think it’s the same way a lot of women my age (or a bit younger) don’t like being called feminists (to me, that means they define feminism differently than I do!). But yes, we’re all fighting for that healthy balance, and to find a place of compassion.
Never heard of Fuku…and I will definitely give this place a try…and yes, running egg yolk over a burger sure looks delicious!
Thanks for the post and have a wonderful week Sophia
Them fries looked mighty tasty!!!
I’ve been called a Honky, a Yankee and just a plain ole white girl. I don’t know if everyone in the universe got the memo when we all got “politically correct.” I wouldn’t be offended. I am sure he meant well.
I want those fries! And I’m not even a fan of Thousand Island dressing!
As for political correctness, I hate it. Absolutely hate it. We’ve become a bunch of overly sensitive sissies who can’t handle anything unless it’s watered down to nothing. Ugh. Screw that. If people are that easily offended they need to get their head examined. Just sayin’…
When I’m at home I ALWAYS eat spaghetti with
chopsticks…it just tastes better that way!
YAY! I agree!
hey sophia! i’ve missed your thought provoking posts. this one was particularly interesting. i just had an experience where my grandma assumed that my (white) brother didn’t want to marry his (black) girlfriend because of her race. there was nothing we could do to convince her that times have changed and people really don’t think like that anymore. she couldn’t seem to let it go, adn we finally had to roll our eyes and chalk it up to 80 years of generational conditioning. she wasn’t being cruel about it, it was just how she was taught to think. i really like to think that as time continues to progress we see less and less of that kind of thinking because it’s just not acceptable anymore. plus, when it comes to pc matters, i’ve just learned to know the difference between someone being ignorant, and someone being cruel.
on that note, DELICIOUS burgers. it’s really late right now and i’ll i want to do is bite into that eggy mushroom burger, YUM!
Omgsh I totally wanna check this place out! The crack fries look soooo good! And I’m not a mayo fan, but I truly truly looove wasabi mayo. I can’t even imagine what other crazy names the owner of this place might come up with, haha.
And I’ve been called oriental so many times! but I like what you said here: “But I don’t think ignorance or politically incorrectness necessarily makes someone an evil bigot.” That’s true, because usually the older generation has been taught to say that word, and well…just because we’re not aware of political correctness or used to those terms doesn’t mean our hearts are evil–it just means we need to~learn? And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you! I’m sorry sorry sorry about lagging with the get together! I’ll get back to you asap 친구야!!!
Actually, the character 福 is just pronounced “fuku” in Japanese. The character 富, though, is pronounced “fu” and it also means “wealth” or “prosperity” (and it’s the “fu” in “Mount Fuji”!) Sorry for the random nitpicking :p
I think political correctness can be obnoxious and can prevent genuine thoughtful, honest discussion about complicated issues. But I think sensitivity is also important. When I lived in Japan, lots of people told me I didn’t seem like an American because I wasn’t loud and overweight. I know a lot of Americans are loud and overweight, but just because I’m not doesn’t mean I’m not like an American. It just means I’m not like SOME Americans. And just because an Asian person likes hugs, it doesn’t mean they’re acting un-Asian, like you said. Usually I think comments like that come from ignorance, not hatred, so it’s better to educate people than to get offended. But I also think it’s important for people to try to educate themselves, rather than relying on ignorant stereotypes to “understand” other cultures.