Fake News: Black Power and Global AfroAsian Solidarity

“The media’s the most powerful entity on earth. They have the power to make the innocent guilty and to make the guilty innocent, and that’s power. Because they control the minds of the masses…If you aren’t careful, the newspapers will have you hating the people who are being oppressed and loving the people who are doing the oppressing.”

— Malcolm X

Just the other day, my mother was engrossed in the Netflix & Fusion limited series, Who Killed Malcolm X? I watched some of it, but I knew it would only piss me off. Malcolm X is dear to me because I was born on his birthday and learned so much about him growing up, including his recognition of issues within the Black community and even something to which he had dedicated his entire life and family.

Yuri Kochiyama, Malcolm X

For those of you who don’t know, it’s been common knowledge that Malcolm X was killed by other Black people after he left the Nation of Islam. Seriously, if I were to ask my Southern family, most of whom lived through extreme racism in Mississippi, they would unanimously say that the Nation of Islam killed Malcolm X. No one knows the details, but it’s a common agreement. Even if the United States government was in on it, the agreement had to be made with people who were able to get somewhat close to Malcolm X. If you watch the limited series, there are quite a number of details that barely (if they do) make it into the history books.

Richard Aoki

That’s why I find it tragic that we still do this to each other, particularly in academia and in film. Why do we erase people who are involved or, you know, actually did the work? Why is it that Black people and Black bodies are still the butt end of the joke—worldwide? What happened to Third World solidarity? Why do people not know about the Red Guard, modeled on the Black Panther Party(1), and other Asian Americans not of Chinese-descent who protested with the phrase “Yellow Peril Supports Black Power”? Why is Yuri Kochiyama completed erased from Spike Lee’s X? Why are people unaware of Paul Robeson, Zora Neale Hurston and other Black creatives’ involvement in speaking out against the U.S.’s foreign policy in Asia and for Korea’s independence from Japan?

I’ve spent years deconstructing cultural representations in media and studying Africana Studies and only recently did I discover DuBois’s travels to China or Richard Wright’s The Color Curtain. Where were these things in my Africana Studies classes? Why do we miss these things, especially during Black History Month?

And this is why we have stereotypes that still persist as real representations of people, to the point where even those within believe them sometimes. All I ask is that we question some of these things—even if they are made by “us.” Just question and rethink.

And always stay blessed. ; )

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  1.  Bill V. Mullen, “Persisting Solidarities: Tracing the AfroAsian Thread in U.S. Literature and Culture,” in AfroAsian Encounters: Culture, History, Politics, ed. Heike Raphael-Hernandez and Shannon Steen (New York: New York University Press, 2006), 248.

Kimchi Tales: The Conversation that Changed My Life…Again

Photo by Henry & Co. on Unsplash

There were two things I knew when I walked into this small shop on Vermont and 3rd after : I was hungry and I wanted kimchi. In what form? It didn’t matter. I was craving it and no other place seemed promising or fast enough—not even the other restaurants in the mini plaza or across the street at the larger plaza. It was late and I was not about to drive down to Western to stop inside BCD for some sundubu or find a place with kimchi jjigae, which I hadn’t had the chance to taste test first. And I hate it when I’m hungry, I haven’t tasted the food, and then when it hits my tongue I’m regretting the decision to spend money on food.

So I walked in, passing tables and a small number of customers, and went directly to the counter to order. Since I didn’t trust my self-taught Korean, I ordered in English but was sure to pronounce two words correctly: kimchi kimbap.

As soon as the words left my mouth, someone behind the other counter started moving. When I finally got out of my head I noticed the man, possibly in his 60s or 70s, reaching for vegetables and then cutting them. But he kept stopping to look at me and when we made eye contact, he said, 

“You like kimchi?”

I nodded a little awkwardly since I didn’t know him and was afraid to show my level of Korean. I was definitely going to acknowledge him, though; I was always taught to respect my elders.

He repeated the question. This time he added in more Korean and to not seem disrespectful, I tried out a few of the words I knew mixed with English. Someone else came to finish my kimbap order because, to my surprise, the conversation (is that what it was with my broken Korean? haha) lasted the entire time it took to finish my order. He was so interested in knowing just why and how I came to love kimchi and I enjoyed talking to him.

Something clicked in me during that conversation. I thought of how hard he had to have worked to have this business and live here and it reminded me of my own family elders and how hard they worked so I could even live in California. It made me think of how much the media got wrong about the LA Riots, Black people and Koreans, and how comfortable I felt in this space.

It made me want to study harder to become fluent in Korean. Out of love and respect for this 할아버님 and many others I knew and loved.

I left with a very clear, “수고하세요” (well done/thank you for helping me) and a very clear focus on what to do with my life in the future.