Gung Hay Fat Choy!

Hau'oli makahiki hou, omedetto gozaimasu, and happy new year...again. Yes, it's Lunar New Year (or at least it was on Monday), and time for the Year of the Ox. Or as my mother calls the animal, "cow". "Cow," she will say, "is god." Whether I respond or not, she will go on by listing all the things people take from cows--from their milk to their flesh to their hides to make boots. Even when I argue, in my best vegan voice, "That's murder!", my mom will continue praising the god-cow and its useful body parts snatched by humans regardless of its refusals. "But Mom," I'll protest, "That's why Hindus worship cows. They're sacred so you shouldn't eat them."

I love listening to my mother "talk story" as they say in Hawai'i where everyone has a tale to share. (Check out the storyteller, below, at the Hawai'i state library.) I'm not sure why she's so good at it, but over the years I've heard my mom repeating all of them endlessly without wavering. Her facts are always the same, and the details she provides paint such visually rich pictures that I always feel like I'm right there at the scene.

My mother's stories range from the time when she was a little girl of six (when her father died and left their family penniless) to the time when she first arrived in America aboard a ship that landed in Seattle to many, many tales beyond. She tells stories of living in Richmond Texas in the 1950's when it was segregated and a white bus driver conspiratorially advised her that she need not sit in the back with my father's black relatives. She talks about my paternal grandmother who taught her how to wring a chicken's neck and fry it for my dad's lunch. One of my mother's favorite stories is about going to New York after learning English from our southern black kin and asking the bellhop to bring her "soda water". Of course, he brought her seltzer because at that time in New York if you wanted a soda, you'd call it a "pop".

My mother's stories have entertained me and my sister for decades. Even her husband perks up with attention whenever she begins with, "When I was little girl, stay Japan, I not have nothing. My daddy die, then we so poor." Evidently, my mother's family owned a hair salon with six employees, but the business burned down during a devastating earthquake. A year later, just as he rebuilt the salon, my maternal grandfather suddenly became ill and died. That threw the family into a tailspin with my grandmother forced to raise five children by herself.

Another time period that yields many tales are the childhoods of my sister and me. My mother loves telling the story about how as a baby in Texas my sister cried all night keeping her awake. I was three at the time and fast asleep as my mom relates it, but my sister could not be placated. As my mother walked to the bathroom cabinet and reached up to get a lamp to light the room with, something crawled over her bare feet. Looking down, she saw a snake sashaying away to hide behind the dresser. Quickly lighting the lamp, my mom grabbed a hoe and hunkered down in her bed watching for the snake to come out. Surprisingly, my sister suddenly stopped crying. (During this part, I always remind her that my sister was born in the Year of the Snake.) Hours later, in the still of the night, the snake crept from its hiding place, and my mother jumped up and chopped that poor creature into bits. Depending on my mood, I'll either tell my mom that she was very brave or, if I want to get a reaction, I'll chastise her for killing a helpless animal.

My mom is always filled with so many stories, but I think the most dramatic ones that she shares are about her life in Texas. After all, there were no Asians living in our little country town then, and she was treated like an oddity--except for by my dad's people. Talk about culture shock! I can't imagine moving somewhere where absolutely no one looked, spoke, ate or behaved like me. But she did it, and she earned some rewarding life experiences for it.

That's why I think it's so important to reach across cultural lines and invite someone different into your life. Interracial couples do that all the time. Just think how boring life would be if

every single human on earth was of one race.

Just remember this new year is Ox time and those animals are stubborn and pragmatic. This could prove to be one really s-l-o-w year.

Speaking of time, it's hard to believe that it's been one year since I began blogging regularly about mixed-race issues. I actually started Watermelon Sushi World in 2006, but with no time to invest in it then, I let it languish. What really brought me to attention was you. You guys are so encouraging and your comments throughout the last year are so appreciated. Please don't stop. And, please consider emailing me your mixed-race stories so that I can include them in a future blog. Email me at hiphapa@comcast.net

Oh, and here's a reminder that the producers of the Watermelon Sushi film are still checking out talent for our principal characters. Although we've received some nice reels and headshots, we're open to looking at more. We want to give everyone a chance, so please spread the word. Although we don't have our locations set yet, it doesn't matter where you live. It's a new world and even though this year may be slow as an ox, we can always bring you to us wherever we end up.

Here are some photos of my mom showing off her new boots (no, they are not made of "cow") and a hilarious note she posted on the fridge about her dog, Muffin. I added the "e" to her "befor".

Gung Hay Fat Choy to all of you from...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Obama Triggers Flashback To Germany

Yesterday, on That Day, I was scheduled to speak about biracial issues at a local high school. But when the kids tramped in, all they wanted to do was watch the streaming of the inauguration. As their teacher frantically fiddled with a computer, I tried to get the students'

attention. But, they were having none of it. Instead, I heard incessant complaining about why the streaming wasn't already happening. "I better not miss my president," one aggressive young lady warned us. After ten minutes of clicking keys, the teacher gave up and herded the kids into the cafeteria to watch the big screen TV with other students. Meanwhile, she and I headed to the library.

During the ceremony, I went over in my mind all the interesting paths that I've seemingly crossed with Obama. There's the fact that his mother attended Mercer Island High School near Seattle where I've resided on and off for a number of years. As a child, Obama lived in Honolulu. Well, I've lived in Honolulu, too--twice. My buddy, Lucy, currently lives in Kailua where the Obama's vacationed recently and where I visited Lucy's home last fall. Obama went to Occidental College in Eagle Rock. Several years ago, I spoke to a class there about biracial issues. I also met Anjulie, a transracial adoptee from Seattle, who has since become my good pal because she was in the class that I spoke to that day. And, I have a close friend who lives in Eagle Rock which is also the location of a newspaper that I used to write film reviews for. As for the inauguration, I'm acquainted with the poet who read the poem since she's a good friend of a friend. I seem to know a lot of folks in Chicago who knew Obama, too. And, the list goes on. Crossing paths these days is not so extraordinary given the world of social networking sites and instant communications. Still, it's something to ponder. Will I make the ultimate crossing with Mr. O with an invite to the White House? Now, that would be a trip!

While I watched Obama yesterday, I--of course--thought a lot about his biracial heritage. Later in the day, I appeared on the Mixed Chicks Chat special podcast to add my two cents about the subject. I had to admit that I was disappointed that Mr. O himself has said little about being mixed. Sure, he's referred to himself as a "mutt" and has revealed information about growing up with white grandparents, but it's not like he's in constant conversation about what it's like being biracial. Certainly, I don't expect him to push aside his presidential duties to focus on the multiracial agenda. Yet, I wish he'd do more.

For one thing, 2010 will be only the second time in the history of the U.S. Census that those of us who identify with more than one race group will be able to check more than one box. Think about it. For most of my life (which has been a l-o-o-o-ng one at this point), I've had to deny one of my parents. And, because the One Drop Rule for African Americans has been so prevalent, the person I had to pretend didn't exist inside of me was my Japanese mother. Even though she's influenced me more than any other living being on this planet, I, in effect, have had to announce to the world that she was no part of me. So, yes. I do believe that Mr. O could be a little louder about us biracial babies. Let's see if he does so once we get past all the economic and international problems we currently face.

Thinking about Obama, I also realized that most of the time when monoracial people use the term "biracial", they mean people who are half white and half black. That took me back to the time when my family lived in Germany where my father was stationed for three years. After moving back to the states, we ended up in an all-white neighborhood where no one would speak to us much less allow their children to interact with my sister and me. It was a lonely time for us, but she and I made good use of our solitude by nurturing our creativity.

But the really interesting thing to me now that I'm older and can look back is how white folks in Germany were nothing like the white neighbors in our Washington state home. For one thing, a lot of German kids then had black fathers. And the white Germans we knew were very friendly. Was it because they lost the war? The white American soldiers that worked with my father were friendly, too. Was it because of the Army?

As much as I prefer the idea of pure peace, I realize that having armed forces is a necessary thing. One of the benefits of being in the Army is that everyone is pretty much equal. Being forced together makes people learn tolerance. In civilian life, our white neighbors had the option of ignoring us, but in the military we all had to get along.

In these photos, clockwise: A soldier friend of my dad's visits us in Germany and sits my sister on his lap. Next, I believe this woman's name was PeeWee. She was German, and I don't remember whether or not she had a family. It seems everyone liked having my sister sit on their lap. In the next photo, we're having a picnic with a girl name Bridget, her German mother, Carmen (in the center, who is biracial), her German mother, my sister and me. The last photo is of me playing in the snow with two friends. I don't recall if they were German or American, but they never called me any derogatory names like our Washington neighbors did.

Until next time, I am...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Good Luck, Good Fortune

Do you believe in good fortune? Do you know people who always seem to luck out? You know the type; they get in a car wreck, but--fortunately--they only sustain minor injuries and, on top of that, the insurance company is paying them big time.

One of my neighbors recently sprained his back and got a brand new truck out of the deal. Personally, any injury would be too much of a sacrifice for me, but I always wonder about people who manage to luck out of what would have been an otherwise disastrous situation.

Some folks say it isn't about luck at all, but about faith. But aren't we talking about the same thing? I mean, no one can prove that anything exists beyond our mundane lives. Yet people all over the world stake everything they know on a belief that their brand of paradise exists just on the other side of their demise.

Personally, I'm more into metaphysics than religion, but it's interesting to note that neither belief system can be 100% guaranteed. My background is in Astrology, and I earned a degree from a school that Dr. Walter Coleman founded in Puerto Rico and New York. In the early 1990's, I read Astrology charts on a radio show, and I once belonged to the prestigious NCGR (National Council for Geocosmic Research). Although I discover a lot of accurate information when reading people's natal charts, I can't make predictions that are absolute and infallible. I don't believe anyone can.

Growing up, my parents each had her/his own beliefs. Like most Japanese people of her time, my mother practiced a mix of Shinto and Buddhism. Besides putting photos of her diseased parents inside her gohonzon, she often fed wild birds and exhibited great empathy towards those less fortunate than herself. But she never formally practiced any particular religion, and she'd admonish my sister and me about the existence of a higher power. In her broken English, she would chide, "God not say nothing. Only people say."

My father, on the other hand, came from a typical Southern Baptist black family. So, Sunday church attendance was mandatory for him, my sister and me. That is, until she and I got old enough to rebel. Luckily for us, my father was stationed away from home for long periods of time--up to two years, sometimes--and my sister and I took full advantage of it. With a foreign mother who didn't quite get all the customs of America, we had it pretty easy when it came to forging our own activities. But whenever my dad was around, my sister and I had to endure the scratch of starchy dresses, Jergen's lotion rubbed into our "rusty knees" and, along with embroidered handkerchiefs knotted around our coin offerings, we'd be taken to church.

Somehow, time has changed nothing. Today, my mother's married to an atheist. She still gathers table scraps to feed the wild birds hanging out in her front yard, and she still tears up whenever she watches the news. As for my dad, he still attends a Baptist church, still says grace at meal times, and still believes that you go to "heaven" after you die.

Then, there's Yours Truly (or Your Hip Hapa, I should say) who still reads Astrology charts and Tarot cards, and is absolutely riveted by Crop Circles and any sign of extraterrestrial life. For decades, I've believed that a higher consciousness is awakening in humankind, and that the portal to greater knowledge will open according to the Mayan calendar in the Age of Aquarius in 2012. I can't prove any of it, and I could be wrong, but it's just what I've always felt.

How about you? I'm really curious about mixed-race people and their personal beliefs. Most people adopt the religion of their parents. But what happens if you have parents of different races? Or, for that matter, parents who have different beliefs? Back in the day, there were issues whenever Catholics married Protestants, and vice versa. Drop me a line and let me know about how being biracial helped shape your belief system.

Meanwhile, here's a reminder that our producers have begun casting for principals for Watermelon Sushi. If you'd like to see a copy of the Open Casting Call, please drop me a line. If you're on Facebook, navigate to the Hip Hapa Homeez group page and read it there.

In keeping with my theme, above are some photos of the gods. The golden Buddha is my mom's favorite while the one next to it was snapped at a tea shop in Los Angeles. The Buddhas on the wall were taken at a fusion restaurant on Oahu. I've forgotten the names of the two ceramic Japanese gods sitting on my mom's table, but maybe you know. And, finally, there's Zoltar, the psychic who dispenses fortunes on Santa Monica's Pier.

Good Luck, ya'll!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Freakin' Blogspot!

Okay, one of the reasons my post was so late tonight is because I had to freakin' retype it 3 or 4 times because of too many photos squeezed into one space.

Here's the photo of Jero I left out along with a bowl of the ozoni (vegan style) my mother made us for New Year.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Red And White New Year

So far, 2009 is proving to be a little more Sushi in flava than Watermelon.

On New Year's Eve, while munching on homemade osenbe, I watched Red and White with my mother and her husband. A Japanese tradition that spans several decades, Kohaku Utagassen

(or Red and White) is a singing contest between two groups of professional singers. Broadcast on NHK, it's an unbelievable 4 1/2 hours long!

Featuring women singers representing Red, or Ko, and men as the White or Haku, this year's show featured a plethora of talent. Although the J-pop groups mostly annoyed me, I was very moved by the enka singers--especially a woman named Tendo Yoshimi. I like her a lot because she's also one of the chubbiest Japanese people I've ever seen. Rarely are Japanese nationals overweight, and I was initially surprised upon first laying eyes on this popular singer. Tendo is very stylish and and her voice is a powerhouse.

One interesting aspect of Red and White was the nonchalant way in which drag queens were presented as just another part of the show. Performing songs sung in their normal male voices, these gay men were dressed to the nines--sashaying it up for the screen. You'd think with their reputation as an extremely formal people, the Japanese would be the last to show openly gay male singers mixed in with the straight on a well-known national television show. I have to give them props for their inclusion of everyone because I can't imagine it happening here in the supposedly liberal West. But then again, Japan has kabuki which, although created by a woman, features only men playing all of the roles--male or female.

Another Red and White treat for me was the appearance of Jero--the young brother from Philly whose mother is hapa (Japanese/black). Jero's mother was in the audience tearfully congratulating her son for being invited to the show which is a great honor. Her crying caused Jero to cry. In fact, most of the audience was sniffling as Jero showed off his half black/half white jacket featuring a drawing of his late grandmother who taught him to speak Japanese and who turned him on to enka.

Tears also ran down the faces of some of the singers who had poems, written by loved ones, read to them by the hosts. I tell you, in spite of their reputation to the contrary, the Japanese are an emotional lot.

On to some Watermelon stories--sort of. Here's a link Marion sent from Maryland. If you recall, several years ago, an interracial couple had twins each of whom turned out to look fully white and fully black. Well, they did it again. So much for Hapa-dom!

http://news.mobile.msn.com/en-us.aspx?afid=1&aid=28471626

And, finally, some news about both Watermelon and Sushi. It looks like the film production is on again as our producers have issued a national casting call. Email me if you'd like a copy of the casting notice. Although we're not certain yet where we'll be shooting, we're gathering our talent now. If you've purchased a Hapa*Teez t-shirt, please let us know so we can add you to the credits. hiphapa@comcast.net

Hopefully, you and yours enjoyed a HAPA New Year!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Hau'oli Makahiki Hou (And HAPA New Year)!

That's Hawai'ian, literally, for "happy, year, new".

Speaking of the islands, I always get a chuckle out of reading news stories about Hawai'i. Mostly written by mainlanders, the articles usually reflect the writers' unfamiliarity with things Hawai'ian. I have to admit that I, too, was surprised when I first moved to Honolulu over a decade ago. I guess I was expecting to see Native Hawai'ians running around in grass skirts and speaking their beautiful language that sounds of sea waves. Instead, what I found was Asians...lots of Asians. The Asian influence in Hawai'i is strong, yet they've also embraced Hawai'ian culture and managed to meld it with their own traditions; creating a unique blend of both--much like us multiracial folks.

It tickles me that AP contributors reporting about Obama vacationing in Kailua Oahu identified the city as being "close to downtown" when it's way over on windward side. They also wrote things like "SHAVED ICE" when everyone in Hawai'i says "SHAVE ICE". There's a loose national language operating over there--a blend of Hawai'ian, Japanese, Cantonese, Mandarin, Korean, Tagalog, Portuguese, English, etc. "all mix up" and spit out in a special way. I find it very similar to speaking to my mother who didn't arrive in the U.S. until she was 33, lived in segregated Richmond Texas for two years, then Germany for three. By the time, she had any opportunity to learn standard English, she was too busy working and raising two daughters. When I talk to my mom, it's like she has her own language.

Mom: "We go store now? I go buy green onion for natto."

Me: "Well...I was watching Atsuhime..."

Mom: "You not want to?"

Me: "Oh, all right."

Mom: "You no have to go."

Me: "I'll go. I'll go."

When I was a lot younger and living in our all white neighborhood devoid of immigrants, other kids upon meeting my mother would rudely state in front of her, "I can't understand what she's saying." While living in Hawai'i, I often thought how much easier it would've been for her had my father been stationed there instead of Ft. Lewis. But at Ft. Lewis, she had all her Japanese warbride girlfriends and they spoke rapid Japanese whenever they gathered for a lively game of hanafuda. I remember hanging around the table hoping to pick up on what they were saying until my mom would shoo me away.

But I digress. In case you aren't aware, biracial actress/singer/dancer Earth Kitt died last week. You may be too young to remember, but Ms. Kitt was banished from the White House when she told Lady Bird Johnson that the U.S. should not be in Vietnam. For years afterwards, Kitt was forced to eke out a career overseas as she was blacklisted and investigated by the FBI and CIA. Still, she persevered and enjoyed many successes throughout her life. Even though she started out working in the cotton fields of South Carolina, Kitt became an entertainer after she moved in with an aunt and attended the High School of Performing Arts in New York. The child of a black/Cherokee mother and white father, Kitt was a victim of One Drop Rule--unable to proclaim her multiracial heritages in a mono-racial world. She was 81.

On to something sunnier. It appears that the film Watermelon Sushi is making some progress lately. Besides the addition of Associate Producer Derrick Holmes of Tokyo, we've recently welcomed playwright Jaz Dorsey of Nashville into the circle also as an Associate Producer. Both men are aggressively clearing a path to production dollars, so stay tuned in '09 to see how far we travel. And, we're still selling Hapa*Teez t-shirts to help fund the film. If you haven't bought one yet, check out the newly added designs at: http://www.cafepress.com/hapateez

Remember, if you've made a purchase, contact us to make sure we have your name for the rear crawl credits: hiphapa@comcast.net

That's Chinese/Korean/American Scott Lee in the photo above toasting with tea at our favorite restaurant in Hawai'i. And, that's me in the photo here celebrating a new year in Germany. I wish I could remember who our family friends are in the pix with me, but it's been awhile. I think the African American sistah's name was Betty.

In closing, I wish you and yours omedetto gozaimasu, hau'oli makahiki hou and a HAPA new year!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Mele Kalikimaka And Hau'oli Makahiki Hou!

Aloha!

No matter how you celebrate (or don't) the hollah-daze, I send you wishes of enjoyment for yourself, your family and your friends. For metaphysicians like myself, this season is really about the Winter Solstice when we've reached the end of ever-darkening days and begin to see a return to longer light-infused ones as the Sun increases its face time. As an Astrologer, I view the Capricorn Sun as effecting a serious influence on folks assessing their year about to pass and proclaiming resolutions of change for the new one coming.

Personally, what I hope to accomplish this next year is a serious presence for all multiracial people everywhere. (Please see the Hip Hapa Homeez group on Facebook). The insistence of major media in continuing to label Barack Obama as "the first black or African American" man to ascend the presidential throne is an affront to anyone who can count. One-half white and one-half black adds up to one mixed-race person. If Obama doesn't care to confront the issues of One Drop Rule and create an understanding of how and why this weird math is still practiced today, I swear, we mixies must unite and send him a petition to address this. Ya feel me?!?

Here's a recent article about the very subject:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081213/ap_on_re_us/obama_s_not_black

And, here's a comment in reply from Michael Shenton of London:

"Obama should thank 'former African Americans' for making his journey possible and not forget this. In actual fact, without the removal of the anti-miscegenation pact, Obama would not have been born. So, his very existence owes to this fact. As a 'mixy', I'm very proud of him. He is our first recognized pres (some argue that 5 or 6 other former pressies really were mixed). Love, Mikester."

On to other rants. Last month, I had the opportunity to screen the film Skin starring Sophie Okonedo. Based on the true story of Sandra Laing, this movie has the potential of being a great learning experience and so needs a wide release. Sandra was born to two white parents during apartheid South Africa when people were separated into categories of black, white, colored and Indian. Due to some strange genetic development, Sandra became darker-skinned and more curly-haired as she got older. Can you imagine having a white racist father as you look more Negro-ish every day? The funny thing is that Sandra's father loved his daughter and insisted that she was white and be treated as if she were. You understand, he looked down on blacks and other racial minorities while doing so. But all the same, he went to court and had his daughter officially classified as white. When Sandra ran away to be with a black man (and his people whom she felt more comfortable with), her father threatened to kill her and her lover. Here's a YouTube clip of the real Sandra Laing (keep your tissues close):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYZyvxpsCjQ

Last week, I wrote about Jesse B., who was upset over the casting of the new M. Night Shyamalan film based on a TV series called The Last Airbender. The story features Asian characters, but Shyamalan cast only Caucasian actors. I'm still not all that hip to what's hapa'nin' with the project, but I do have to say--lawdamercy! I had no idea how talented Ms. B. is. Check her out here:

http://burnthefatoffyoursoul.blogspot.com/

http://jbramx2.deviantart.com/

I know you're all probably anxious to return to your hapa hollah-daze, so I'll let you go. btw, new Hapa*Teez t-shirt designs will be posted over the next few days.

And, all the Xmas decos you see here are courtesy of my mother. Actually, they're from last year as I couldn't locate pix of this year's.

Mele Kalikimaka!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

More Multi-Culti Statues, "Blackwomanface", "Yellowface", And More

Having written about the Hollywood/LaBrea statues last week, I feel like I'm on a roll. So, allow me to introduce a few more of my favorite likenesses in bronze--or whatever they're made of.

This summer, I was hanging out at my old stompin' grounds of Waikiki where one of the world's most intriguing Hip Hapa Homeez once lived. When I first moved to Honolulu in 1994, I found an apartment on Ka'iulani Avenue. Stupidly, I had no clue about the wonderful woman for whom the street was named. But that changed fast as I studied Hawai'ian language at Iolani Palace, and read everything I could find about the history of the royal family.

Today, Princess Ka'iulani claims ownership of her own triangular-shaped park on Kuhio Boulevard. Since all the shots I took of her statue remain on my vid cam, I've posted someone else's rendition of her that I saw displayed in a shop window, below.

Born to Princess Likelike, Ka'iulani was an intelligent child filled with grace. Her father, a Scotch businessman named Archibald Cleghorn, sent her abroad to be educated after her mother died when she was just 12. While Ka'iulani was gone, her aunt Lilio'kalani was deposed as Queen and Hawai'i was annexed by the U.S. Next in line for the throne, Ka'iulani travelled to America to beseech President Cleveland to restore her Kingdom, but her words were lost on Congress. Back home, Ka'iulani suffered greatly from the loss of her country and her crown, and fell ill. A beautiful woman who loved beauty, she kept peacocks as pets. It's said that at the exact moment when she died (at age 23), her peacocks screamed ceaselessly.

Another, more popular, figure in Hawai'ian culture is Duke Kahanamoku. Still, not a lot of people know that he was responsible for introducing surfing outside of Hawai'i in the 1920's. Contrary to popular belief, surfing did not start in Malibu, but was a sport many Native Hawai'ians enjoyed until, in 1821, European missionaries banned it--in Hawai'i!

A statue of Duke--the "original beach boy"--stands today on Waikiki Beach where tourists and locals alike often adorn it with long leis. A gold-medal Olympic swimming champion, the brown-skinned Duke often encountered racism on his many travels around the globe. Yet, he always remained stoically dignified even when he was shoved into stereotyped roles in Hollywood movies. A restaurant bearing Duke's name is located near his statue and, not surprisingly--at least up until 2003--I never saw anyone not Caucasian working there.

This week, I received an email from Jesse B who read my article about "yellowface" that was published many moons ago. Upset that a TV animation series, The Last Airbender, based on mostly Asian characters was being made with only Caucasian actors, she contacted me for my opinion.

Coincidentally, over the weekend, I watched the movie Norbit with my mom and her husband. While I was aware that a lot of BBB's (big, black, beautiful) sistahs were upset with the film because of Eddie Murphy's portrayal of a stereotyped overweight, angry, black woman--"blackwomanface", if you will--I was also astounded by his nerve to perform in "yellowface". If you've never seen this flick, don't. But if for some unfathomable reason you have, you must've felt like I did. First of all, Eddie don't ever try to do an "Asian" accent again. I don't know why your character had to be Chinese, but trust me, no one hailing from any existing East Asian country speaks like your Mr. Wong. If for no other reason than because of how African Americans suffered in the past by white actors playing "blackface", you should've displayed some sensitivity towards "yellowface". For shame, Eddie! But, then again, $159 million worldwide box office probably expunged you of any such feelings of disgrace.

Back to Jesse B and her distress over the upcoming film directed by M. Night Shyamalan. Since I'm not familiar with the TV show's characters, writers, or the soon-to-be-made movie, all I can say is that the only South Asian I've ever seen in a Shyamalan studio release has been him. Why is that, I wonder? I know Shyamalan probably thinks he's doing a Hitchcock number by walking onto his set and even giving himself some speaking lines. But aren't there any other actors of color who could play roles in his movies? It's the same question I want to ask another Indian American filmmaker who recently made a short with an all-white cast. Is this the film you wanted to make, or did you feel you had to make it like that because of how Hollywood continues to perpetuate racist stereotypes? Does the term self-hating come into play here, or is it all about the benjamins? Any comments, folks?

Meanwhile, things are cookin' over at Facebook. If you're there, please join our group, Hip Hapa Homeez. And, remember our Hapa*Teez t-shirts and Watermelon Sushi film, too.

http://www.cafepress.com/hapateez

http://www.watermelonsushi.com

Until next time, I promise to always be...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Hollywood, Atsuhime, Inarizushi And More

One of my favorite multi-culti works of art features four female statues standing on the corner of LaBrea where it meets Hollywood Boulevard. Made of some type of silver metal (I'm not sure what), the four of them together support a contraption atop their heads which, in turn, holds a vertical sign that reads 'Hollywood'.

More or less representing the four main races are likenesses of actresses Dorothy Dandridge (African American), Mae West (Caucasian), Anna Mae Wong (Chinese American), and Dolores Del Rio (Mexican American).

Well-known back in the day, each of these ladies broke barriers in her own way. Because I've written several articles about Anna Mae Wong, I'm most familiar with her story and how she became an actress after being chosen as an extra during a shoot in her neighborhood. Although her life ended in 1961 when she was just 56, Wong enjoyed an unprecedented show biz career despite being forced to portray Asian stereotypes. Never allowed an onscreen romance that came to fruition, Wong often joked about having to "die a million deaths" in her films. Indeed, Wong was an enigma and her career a paradox. Acting during a time when white performers would don makeup to look Asian (or as it was called "appearing in yellowface"), Wong was even forbidden to kiss any "Asian" played by a Caucasian actor.

Dorothy Dandridge's life was also a dichotomy. Her highest achievement as the third African American actress nominated for a Best Actress Oscar was negated by a host of personal tragedies. And, like Wong, Dandridge suffered from being forced to play stereotypes--mostly of sexually promiscuous women with loose morals. Also like Wong, Dandridge died young--at age 42 of a drug overdose.

Were these women victims of their race or their gender, or both?

There are plenty of women victims in the NHK taiga series Atsuhime. Briefly, Atsuhime (left) is a princess of the Satsuma clan who was pressured into marrying Shogun #13 to unite her clan with the larger ruling Tokugawa clan. But the Shogun has since died leaving Atsuhime a young widow and "mother" to the new Shogun. In the latest episode, the Emperor's sister, Kazunomiya (right), has finally recognized that Atsuhime is her ally. Forced to marry the new Shogun (Atsuhime's "son" in order to unify the "royals" with the Tokugawa samurai clan, Kazunomiya was at first horribly unhappy having to adjust to life in Edo (Tokyo) after leaving the Emperor's Kyoto digs. I love watching this show where chicks rule! And, having my mother explain her Japanese history during each episode is an added treat.

Speaking of treats, my mom decided to get into the mixed-race game recently by making both brown rice and white rice inarizushi. Check it out. She even marked each row

with flags for easy identification.

Hey, thanks again to the Mixed Chicks for having me participate in their November 26 podcast to talk about interesting names of multi-ethnic folks. I've explained mine so many times here that I'm sure you don't want a repeat.

At last, the new Watermelon Sushi website is up! Some tweaking remains to be done, but that will happen over the next few weeks. For now, please check it out and email me your comments. So many folks over the years have been supportive of this film endeavor, so I send you all a shout-out.

http://www.watermelonsushi.com

Also, if you've purchased a Hapa*Teez t-shirt, drop me a line to make sure I have the spelling of your name correct.

http://www.cafepress.com/hapateez

HAPA Hollah Daze!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

HTML Hell And CSS Confusion!

Due to continuing issues with html and css (what sadist invented this torture mechanism?), I won't have anything to say tonight.

Hit me back next week for further developments in the world of Watermelon Sushi (hopefully, the new site will be up by then).

In stressed-out frustration,

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

HAPA Family Dysfunction Day!

If those of you who are monoracial think you've got problems with family dysfunction during the holidays, consider what's it like for mixed-race folks who have the addition of two or more ethnicities to deal with when it comes to practicing customs and rituals.

Personally, my mother is not all that into holidays and her apathetic husband, being the atheist that he is, frees me from some of the rhetoric that other multiracial people tell me they experience around this time of the year. Do we do Christmas, Xmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Chinese New Year, or Tet--or, none of the above? Drop me a comment and tell me what you do in your house, how you do it, and why.

Thanks to the Mixed Chicks, Fanshen and Heidi, for another great podcast today. Some of us were on the show explaining our complicated mixed-heritage names. You can listen to any of the past podcasts by going to:

http:www.mixedchickschat.com

And, Allison Manushikin, who is searching for mixed-race writers, sent me the following email:

Mixed Race People!!!

Having a hard time deciding where you fit, frustrated with identity politics? Got something to say?!!! Mestizo Revelations is a 'zine inspired potential book project that is about examining race and what being mixed is/means, without necessarily having to tie in to other ethnic movements to find validity. Some of my friends and I are tired of old paradigms in identity politics and are interested in challenging those paradigms by describing where we (as mixed people) are now, philosophically.

As you know, mixed race literature is often quite stagnant, especially ethnic studies, so this is the antidote to all of that. We are looking for voices, new to the scene, to speak about not only our personal histories as mixed race people, but also to submit commentaries on identity politics as a whole, through essays, poems, or visual presentations. The project will also include photo shoots. Eventually, I'd like to pursue a grant to fund publishing this.

This is a fun project for all involved and I'd like to emphasize a sense of humor in your writing--don't write as though you're preaching, remember you're writing for an audience that may not have any idea about our experiences, and reach deep inside yourself for interesting histories and ideas! (Think the tongue in cheek, yet innovative and political humor of Hyphen Magazine). Please forward widely to other mestizos who might be interested as well!!!

The deadline for submission is January 31, 2009. Please contact Allison at Nocivilized@gmail.com or 323-706-8320 with your pieces or questions and I'd be happy to show you a sample of what we've started working on already. Or, alternatively, you can read my blog manushkin.wordpress.com which conveys the sort of direction I'm heading in.

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Back to the holidays--for those of you who participate, it's never too early to go shopping and if you're looking for something special for your hapa friends, check out Hapa*Teez at Cafe Press. Besides proclaiming hapa pride, you'll be getting a good bargain, help support the film http://ww.watermelonsushi.com and you'll receive a rear crawl credit, too.

That's Eva, Teri and Cassie above modeling Hapa*Teez. Make your purchase here:

http://www.cafepress.com/haptateez

Until next week, I humbly remain

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Mixed-Race Mutts Unite! Arf!

It appears that the idea of mixed-race folks uniting to create their own communities is disturbing to some. It's almost (but light years away still) reminiscent of how some were bothered by the black nationalist movement of the 1960's. In fact, someone (a social networking site "friend") was threatened enough to send me the following email (I've edited for profanity, punctuation and spelling--the bad grammar stayed):

"Hey dere sweet Yayoi...No thanks your post which I found on my email alert today...I gotta pull yer coat a bit on this one...Please excuse my response if you find it harsh, and please take no offense as it is meant only constructively, but: You are seemingly so into this really quite inconsequential mixed "mutt" race thing--do a black/white parental mix make a black or white child?--WHO the (eff) CARES? Like, come on, does it really matter much, or at all? Like, get off it awready--it's quite meaningless and your obsessing on it makes it in and of itself somewhat demeaning to all of us that you direct it to, having to read the inner pain of it, involving us in your deep hang-up on it. Can you just glean perhaps it's just not really of any importance or consequence this mixed racial thing you're into? My three racially mixed grandchildren (in their 20's) never even mention it ever, or show or indicate any negative consciousness of it at all! They just exemplify both cultures so beautifully! I would think that's more where the whole thing with our, Thank God, newly elected President should be at--where our society and interpersonal reactions should truly be at! Let it go, forget the demeaning "mutt" race thing awready...it's truly quite meaningless and so way unimportant to even mention--let alone obsess on! Include me out, next time. Thanks. Love, peace."

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I'm not going to comment, but I'd love to hear yours if you have one.

Now, on to some good news. Watermelon Sushi's Associate Producer Derrick Holmes, who lives in Tokyo, has officially joined our team. He's created a page on the Japanese social networking site, mixi, so if you live in Japan, please check us out.

As for the NHK taiga series, Atsuhime, it's now down to the last few episodes. The poor mother of the shogun (by default because Atsuhime's shogun husband died leaving a chosen, adult heir) is facing an uphill battle. The Emperor's sister has been ordered to marry the shogun to show unity against foreigners in the country. But Atsuhime grieves upon learning that the sister already has a fiancee she'll have to dump. "Women are always used as political tools," Atsuhime, bathed in tears, tells her court. But previews of the next episode shows that the Emperor's sister will spurn Atsuhime's empathetic friendship.

Hey, if you're looking for a unique holiday gift, remember Hapa*Teez t-shirts for our special community members. Very soon now, new designs will be posted. So, avoid the rush and order several now. Every purchase of a Hapa*Teez t-shirt will go towards financing the Watermelon Sushi film, and every purchaser will receive a rear crawl credit. Just drop me a line to let me know that you bought one.

It's apropos that we close as we opened--with talk about mutts! Above, is a pix of Associate Producer Derrick Holmes posing as one.

Until next week, I remain...

Your Hip Hapa Mutt,

Yayoi

Bow Wow Wow Yippee Yo Yippee Yay!

Arf! When Will The One Drop Rule Cease?!?

Okay, hip hapa homeez, I'm still recovering from film festival festivities so I'll just leave you with this thought tonight.

After a friend alerted me to the link below (thanks, Kahlil!),

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081108/ap_on_el_pr/mutts_like_me

I read the story with a shake of my head. Evidently, our new hip hapa homee prez recently referred to himself as a "mutt". I know a lot of you do that, too. But my question to AP reporter Alan Fram is this: Dude, can you not do the math?

Here is a direct quote from his article:

"By now, almost everyone knows that Obama's mother was white and father was black, putting him on track to become the nation's first African-American president."

Besides hyphenating African American (does anyone still do that?), reporter Fram obviously struggles with elementary mathematics. In case you missed it, let me run that by you again:

"...mother was white and father was black...the nation's first African-American president."

If being half white and half black equals one African American then why doesn't half white and half black equal one Caucasian? 'nuff said. I'm off to Hapawood where hip hapa homeez rule!

Oh, yeah. Now that's a real mutt in the pix above.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Back Soon

Since I'm currently covering the American Film Institute Film Festival and American Film Market for http://www.FilmFestivalToday.com, I'll keep this week's blog short and sweet.

Hey! Can I get a big up to the voters who put our first HIP HAPA HOMEE in the White House?!?

I'll be back next week with more hip hapa news. Meanwhile, check out this pix of me covering my first Pan African Film and Arts Festival for Film Festival Today when it was a mere magazine--many moons ago.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

No Dead Animals In My Tendon, Jero And Atsuhime

I don't know about other hapas, but whenever I spend time with either one of my parents, I take on the cultural qualities of that one's particular ethnic group. For instance, if I'm hanging out with my dad (my folks have been divorced for decades), I end up reading all of the Ebony and Jet magazines laid out on his coffee table. Now, that's not to say that all black people read Ebony and Jet, but you get my meaning. My dad and I will often discuss politics, too--the state of black folks today versus the Civil Rights movement of yesteryear. However, I don't tend to eat the food my dad eats mainly because he's from Texas and his parents owned a barbecue joint. I am, after all, vegan (even though I'll admit to stuffing many a pig's foot into my mouth back in the day when I didn't know any better).

Whenever I visit my mother, though, I'm always ready to chow down. Mindful of my special diet, my mom tends to make me my own meal separate from what she serves her husband. And, like a true Japanese mother, she will eat what I (the guest) eats instead of what she cooked for her husband. A couple of weeks ago, she made me tendon; that's slang for tempura donburi. Tempura, as you may know, is veggies (and shrimp for those who insist on murdering the poor crustaceans) dipped in batter and fried. Donburi is a dish served in an individual bowl featuring veggies and/or dead animal flesh (call it what it is!) simmered in a slightly sweetened shoyu-based sauce and heaped on hot, white rice. The tendon my mom made me was tempura carrots, onions and pumpkin on top of fresh gohan. I was also treated to her home-grown edamame (steamed soybeans). Oishi!

Earlier, we were watching our favorite show--The NHK Amateur Singing Contest (aka Nodojiman)--when, lo and behold, the phenomenal Jero appeared as a guest singer. This is the kid who hails from Pittsburgh, whose mother is hapa Japanese and black, and whose Japanese grandmother taught him to speak her language and sing enka--a type of music that reminds of me the old R&B songs where the man is begging, crying and carrying on over a woman. Enka is very emotional like that, and is almost always about love. So, I don't think it's necessarily a stretch that a brother like Jero is so into it. Like the old school crooners, he feels the lyrics deep down in his soul. True, he's singing in Japanese, but he knows what the words mean because he knows the language. There's also some very specific expressions that go along with singing enka. One can't be too showy and drop to one's knees like James Brown because Japanese culture isn't about that. Even though Jero wears his signature baseball cap and baggy jeans, he's got the Japanese inflections down.

Later on in the day, my mom's husband and I watched another episode of Atsuhime. My mother claims not to care about

Japanese history, but her Caucasian husband and I can't get enough of the taiga series. Sadly, Atsuhime's husband, the shogun, dies in this episode and because of the turmoil surrounding the choice of heir, no one tells Atsu about his demise until a month later. Now, she's mad because weeks before the shogun instructed her to attend the cabinet meetings and become a part of the political process because she's so smart and beats him at go all the time. But now that he's no longer around, none of the guys are taking Atsuhime seriously. I can't wait 'til she starts kicking some butt. Her kimono may be wrapped around her legs like a mermaid's tail, but you watch--she'll figure out how to strike back. That girl is baaad!

Hey, drop me a line and tell me how your parents' differing cultures affect you. Do you act the same way with each of them, or not?

Above are pix of my tendon dish, my mom's garden-fresh edamame, Jero's appearance on Nodojiman, and NHK's Atsuhime.

Until next time, I swear to be...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Hip Hapa Homee In Hapa*Teez!

Dear Bloggies,

Please note that this week's posting will be late as I await the downloading of some special pix to accompany said blog.

Meanwhile, feast your eyes on my Hip Hapa Homee, Cassie, stylin' and profilin' in her Hapa*Teez t-shirt. Go 'head on, Cassie!

Hatin' on her? Don't. Instead, order a Hapa*Teez t-shirt yourself, and help support a film.

http://ww.cafepress.com/hapateez

In a minute...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

The Secret Lives (That's A Plural) Of Bees (Also A Plural)

This week, I took a time out to attend a press screening of The Secret Life of Bees--as it is grammatically incorrectly titled. After hearing the buzz (ha ha!) about the Gina Prince Bythewood-directed feature, I was eager to view it. Are you kidding me? We've got a black female director, a cast of well-known black female stars, and a story taking place in the south during the Civil Rights movement. It sounds like a winning formula, but this flick is no Mississippi Burning--nor Eve's Bayou.

Instead, it focuses on a white teenager named Lily (clever!) (played by Dakota Fanning) who, as a child, loses her mother and then runs smack dab into a family of black women beekeepers who end up taking care of her the way they used to take care of her mama.

No one can argue that this movie doesn't attempt to integrate blacks and whites, but it is heavy on white Lily as victim even though a black woman, Rosaleen, (Jennifer Hudson) is badly beaten by whites for attempting to register to vote. I never knew if Rosaleen had a mother or just magically appeared one day to knee-growishly guide Lily to her destiny.

Another character, May (portrayed by the super-talented and biracial Sophie Okonedo), is a sad creature whose twin sister's (April's) death often leads her to visit a wailing wall just outside of her home. I wanted to know more, too, about what drove May to the edge.

Curiously, the Watermelon Sushi film also has a character named April. In fact, while watching Alicia Keys (another biracial babe) playing June, I had a revelation that she could play April. For one thing, if you look closely, you'll notice that Alicia has very slanted eyes. Ha! Could she possibly be a Hapa Japa--someone who's half Japanese--passing for black/white? Hmmm. Unlike Watermelon's April though, Bees' June character is bold and brash. In fact, June acts more like April's sister, Michiko.

Did you get that? June can play April even though April acts more like May and Michiko acts more like June. Figure it out here: http://www.watermelonsushi.com

And, no, I didn't read the Bees book so I'm sure there's plenty I missed about white Lily and her black female friends. If you've read it, please drop me a line.

btw, the last time I checked, the word "bees" with an "s" on the end indicates that it's a plural. So, what's up with this movie title?

On to more news. Tomorrow is the first day of the International Black Film Festival of Nashville. Besides Boris Kodjoe (yet another biracial actor--lookout, we're taking over!) hosting Saturday night's gala, the Watermelon Sushi trailer will be featured in a special category for films seeking finishing funds. Big ups to Jaz, Hazel and Ingrid for your efforts, and good fortune with the fest! http://www.ibffnashville.com

And, don't forget the sooner we sell more Hapa*Teez t-shirts, the sooner we finish making Watermelon Sushi.

Until next time, I remain...bzzz...bzzz...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

A Chill Pill Week And Mixed-Race Pets

These are crazy-busy times for all of us. In addition to the rhetoric created by the upcoming presidential election, we're stressed over our financial situations--not to mention the future of the whole world.

Instead of expounding on any of these issues or how they're impacting those of us who are of multi-racial heritages, I'm taking a chill pill this week and starting a feature about mixed-race pets. From now on, whenever this author is too overwhelmed to write her weekly blog, she will, instead, post a photo of a multi-ethnic pet along with a blurb or two. So, send me those snapshots and stories of your favorite mixed-breeds!

This week, I present Ms. Muffin. Of both terrier and poodle heritages, Ms. Muffin admits that she sometimes struts about in her chi-chi curly, white coat barking with a French accent and insisting on being addressed as Mademoiselle Croissant. Then, Ms. Muffin's terrier hunting instincts takes over and she begins digging at the seat cushions of the sofa and yelping at the mail carrier and any neighbors that make the mistake of walking in front of her masters' house. Although Ms. Muffin denies that she is a confused mixed-breed pup, she does own up to a fierce pride in both of her ethnicities. See Ms. Muffin pictured above.

On another note, big ups to the folks at the International Black Film Festival of Nashville--and a particular shout-out to Jaz, Hazel and Ingrid--for selecting the Watermelon Sushi trailer to be featured in a special category for films seeking finishing funds. Go to:

http://www.ibffnashville.com

btw, It's never too early to start thinking about holiday gifts. This year, consider Hapa*Teez t-shirt for your multi-racial friends and family members. Besides making unique gifts, Hapa*Teez t-shirts are financing a film about us. You can get a rear crawl credit and support our movie by making a purchase. New designs are in the works now. Check 'em out: http://www.cafepress.com/hapateez

Okay. That's it. I'm as grumpy as the rest of you over current world affairs. Let's all get some rest. Until next time, I remain...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Lovers In A Dangerous Time

One of my favorite songs by the late, great Lucky Dube is about a couple in South Africa during apartheid. The man is black and the woman is white, and Dube sings about them being "lovers in a dangerous time".

Unfortunately, Dube was murdered around this time last year, but his powerful lyrics will always remain.

Few of us living now remember a time that loving someone outside of your race could result in the deaths of one or both of you. But I am aware of several interracial pairings that were considered scandalous--and even resulted in tragedy for their participants.

For one, Swedish American actress Inger Stevens who was found dead in her home in 1970 of an overdose was secretly married to an African American actor named Ike Jones. Their marriage was a secret because Stevens had a Hollywood career and was well known for the TV show, The Farmer's Daughter, that she starred in through 1966. Whether the overdose was intentional was never made clear, but one can imagine the stress of having to keep a relationship as intimate as marriage under cover.

Another famous name was Sammy Davis, Jr., a very talented performer who happened to be "colored" as we were called back then. Davis married a Swede named May Britt in 1960. Their marriage was considered so taboo that Davis was dis-invited from the White House where he was supposed to have performed for John Kennedy. Apparently, he was so upset that he befriended Kennedy's Republican opponent, Richard Nixon. A lot of so-called liberal people were appalled to see Davis hanging out with Nixon, but who could blame him when they learned the story behind his decision? Davis and Britt ended up divorcing, and Davis later married an African American dancer. Who knows how much racism influenced his decision to split from his white wife and marry a black woman.

Then, there was the beautifully sensitive Jean Seberg, another actress of Swedish ancestry. During the height of her career, she openly supported the Black Panther Party which set off FBI head J. Edgar Hoover. He went after her with a vengeance, tapping her phone and spreading a rumor that she was pregnant with a half black child fathered by a Panther Party member. Seberg was seven months along at the time--1970. She claimed to have become so traumatized that she went into premature labor and two days after her daughter was born, the baby died. Although Seberg married mostly Caucasian men and an Algerian, she died in 1979 at age 41 of suicide. How much did the pain and drama caused by intertwining her life with people of color play in her killing herself?

As you see, some of us have lived through some dangerous times. If you're free to love whomever you want to these days, count yourself fortunate and thank those who came before you who took the full brunt of having an interracial relationship.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Light-Skinned Men Organize!

Although I couldn't get permission by press time to post the following email I received from film producer Sheldon Lane, I'm going to chance it anyway. All that can happen is that I'm asked to remove it. However, I think this post is important enough to risk punishment--as long as it doesn't involve water-boarding. Read it and tell me if you don't agree.

Light-Skinned Brothers Start Voter Registration Drive For Obama

New Group Organizes For Change!

Extremely pleased that the presidential campaign of Senator Barack Obama is "bringing light-skinned brothers back", a new organization of black men of very light complexion have launched a voter registration drive aimed at "getting every light-skinned brother to the polls on November 5," said the organization's founder, Dan "White Boy" Williamson.

Williamson organized Light-skin and Interested in True Equity (LITE) to give men like himself a platform to share their experiences for healing purposes and to advocate for equity, especially in the dating game and in the entertainment world.

"Through my research, I have found out that we still do well in corporate America," he admitted.

"(But) these dark-skinned brothers have been on top of the dating and entertainment games for a long time," said the 40 year-old Williamson.

"It's been about 30 years and it's about time! I knew things were looking up for us light brothers when Wesley Snipes got into all that tax trouble with the IRS, " he added. "Folks asking if Barack will paint the White House black if he gets into office. I hope not. I hope he paint it high yella. Call it the High Yella House. That will stop all the cruel ridiculing."

Light-skinned activists also point to the recent incident with Tyson. The male supermodel's recent public display of nakedness was simply another sign that the winds of complexion popularity are changing, explained Williamson.

"He's desperate because he's not the 'it' guy anymore," said Williamson.

The Coalition urges all light-skinned brothers in politics, entertainment, and those in the dating circuit to take their games up a notch because "the playing field just got level again."

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When it comes to light-skinned black folks, a double standard seems to exist. I'm not sure how much of an issue it is now, but back in the day light-skinned men were considered weak and effeminate. Except for Ron O'Neal's Superfly, there was rarely any light-skinned, or high yella, male movie heroes. From Richard Roundtree's Shaft to Calvin Lockhart's Rev. Deke O'Malley in Cotton Comes to Harlem to William Marshall in Blacula, chocolate brothers were definitely happenin'. True, there was always a Harry Belafonte or two, but the majority of black heartthrobs looked more like Sidney Poitier. I remember my best friends, The Twins, admonishing me not to go out with "yella mens" because they were all latently homosexual. How's that again?

Yet, on the female side, light-skinned women fared better than their darker sisters. Why? In fact, a lot of light-skinned women were actually biracial, but either were coerced into the One Drop Rule, or readily accepted their blackness without attempting to claim their other heritage. Check out Halle Berry today, and in the past stars like Lena Horne, Eartha Kitt, Lonette McKee, Irene Cara and Jennifer Beals. All of them are either biracial or multiracial, but were presented as being only black. Their lighter skin made them more desirable in Hollywood than the average brown-skinned sister, yet they were still considered monoracially black.

How did browner skin come to be associated with masculinity in the first place? Well, I'm not going to attempt to answer that here, but if you have any ideas I'd like to hear them.

Ah, if only Wesley Snipes would speak to us, but he's too busy applauding his incredible good luck in the photo above (which I snapped at the Pan African Film Festival).

Until later, I am...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi