Jason Lim is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture.
Fresh off the boat
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By Jason Lim
I just watched the premiere of the highly anticipated ABC sitcom “Fresh off the Boat.” Twenty years ago, I also watched the premiere of “All-American Girl,” which means that I belong to the small group of people who would have watched the premiere of the two sitcoms in the U.S. that featured an Asian-American cast. That 20 years passed between the two shows is a stark reminder of how difficult it is for new demographics to stake a claim in Hollywood and the public consciousness of America.
Watching the opening of “Fresh off the Boat” actually made me think of Margaret Cho and the burden of representation that she must have carried throughout the years when her “All-American Girl” was deemed a failure and canceled. Although I haven’t really followed her colorful evolution since then, this new show reminded me of how fresh, talented and empowering she was to Asian-Americans in the early 1990s as she made her meteoric rise through the stand-up comedy landscape. She allowed Asian-Americans to see their cultural experience in America through a familiar but delightful lens, which was also enlightening.
What surprised me about the “Fresh off the Boat” premiere was that it was all about race. This was not an Asian-American version of a “Cosby Show” wannabe that avoided a head-on confrontation with race. The actual premise of the show is based on the social and ethnic disconnect that a Taiwanese-American family faces in a white cultural landscape.
The show’s treatment of race is different and refreshing in that it does not follow the typical “racism” narrative about race issues in America where race is boiled down to a black-and-white (excuse the pun) story featuring noble, wronged victims taking on misguided but redeemable victimizers. Here, race is treated lightheartedly, but with a brutally honest touch, as an ingrained part of everyday social calculation in America.
When Louis Huang, the father and would-be restaurateur, decides that he needs to hire a white face to greet the largely white clientele to his steakhouse, he is making a business decision based on his understanding and acceptance of racial dynamics of America. This does not turn into a story about how Louis does something heroic to find common ground to win over the white customers so that they look beyond race to embrace him as one of their own. Actually, Louis is not even angry that his white customers do not find his Asian face as familiar or welcoming. Race is all about getting more people to eat at his restaurant, not a moral story about overcoming prejudice.
The scene where Eddie Huang gets called a “chink” by the only black kid in the cafeteria (who also sits alone and apart from all the white kids) is also about race, but in a different way. It’s about the social pressures that children face in school during their formative years as they begin to define themselves and how they fit into the overall social hierarchy of their world. Before calling Eddie a “chink,” the black kid (he is nameless in the show, which is another no-so-subtle message about race) cuts Eddie off at the microwave line and tells him, “You’re at the bottom now. It’s my turn.”
At the bottom of what? And his turn to do what?
Exactly. Here, race is presented as a key factor that defines our self-identity in a larger socio-cultural context. The real Eddie Huang, on whose memoir this show is based, writes, “It was the most formative moment of my childhood; the first time someone ever called me a chink, held in a two-shot. Two kids of color forced to battle each other at the bottom of America’s totem pole on ABC.” As before, there is no morality tale here, just a real story of kids struggling to find themselves by trying to fit in somehow.
Watching that scene reminded me of how befuddled and confused I was in my first years in the U.S., when my classmates would classify everyone ethnically according to their last names. Having gone to a largely Jewish school in New York City, I learned the many different variations of prototypical Jewish name endings. My best friend’s father actually anointed me an honorary Jew and gave me the last name of “Limowitz.”
Was this racial? Yes. Was this racist? No.
“Fresh off the Boat” resonated authentically with me precisely because it manages not to equate its racial narrative with racism. It openly recognizes race as an everyday and integral part of our lives here in the U.S. Admittedly, talking about race necessarily means talking about racial stereotypes and biases that we all carry as individuals and society. What “Fresh off the Boat“ showed me in its first two episodes is that it’s possible to talk about those stereotypes in a funny way that can also be profound and relatable.
Jason Lim is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture. He has been writing for The Korea Times since 2006. He can be reached at jasonlim@msn.com, facebook. com/jasonlimkoreatimes and @jasonlim2012.