Asian American Adoptee Activist: Simone Labony Labbance

Aloha, Hip Hapa Homeez!

Simone

Welcome back to our Watermelon Sushi World. Meet this bi-month’s featured hip hapa homee, Simone Labony Labbance.

A transracial/transnational adoptee, Simone is a recent graduate of Wellesley College where she studied Asian American Studies and Music. Recently, Simone completed a capstone for her Asian American Studies major, which culminated in a full-length lecture examining the relationship between AAPI admissions at elite colleges and race-based admission practices. Simone was also president of Wellesley Asian Alliance, the only pan-Asian racial justice student organization on campus. Currently, she’s job-hunting in the Boston area and hoping for something in AAPI Advocacy. In the meantime, she also has a part-time job at EMW Bookstore. Is that busy enough for you, hip hapa homeez? No? Well, here’s more from this active activist:

Q: Simone, who are your parents and how did they meet?

A: My parents are Kathie and Bob. They have the most generic white names of the ‘50s! They are both racially white. My mother is of mixed European descent, but I think mostly English. My father was very Italian (biological last name of Maestro), but he was adopted into a Hungarian family, hence my last name: Labbance.

I have an older brother, who is also adopted, and his story influences mine, so I’ll touch on it briefly. He was adopted from an orphanage in Kolkata (many people still use the British name of Calcutta). My parents chose India due to interest in the culture and because it was a country known for having relatively smooth adoption processes at the time. When my parents went to adopt a second child, they had two hopes.

1. to adopt a girl, so they could have “one of each”;

2. to adopt from the same orphanage or at least the same region of India, so my brother and I would share a culture.

We’re both Bengali, and as you’ve probably at least heard, India is a very diverse country from food to culture/language and even terrain/ecosystem.

My brother and I are both from the International Mission of Hope (IMH) in Kolkata, but it almost didn’t turn out that way! IMH was hurting financially when my parents adopted my brother. So they grouped together with many other expectant parents to hold a fundraiser. My parents ran an eclectic restaurant and cooked a huge Indian meal. One mother, an artist, painted a backdrop for the dinner featuring a scene from India, I believe…but I’m not entirely sure because I wasn’t there or alive! My brother successfully made it over to our family in large part due to that fundraiser. Yet during the interim year or two between the time my brother left IMH and the time my parents would file for a second adoption, IMH looked as though it was closing, or at least was not in the position to match children and families. So my parents were forced to look elsewhere in India. They were recommended to a place in the southern part of the country. But before that adoption was close to being ready (and definitely not paired), IMH started to accept applications for adoption again. Because I was the second child my parents had adopted from that particular orphanage, the orphanage let them choose the sex of the child. They, of course, chose a girl and ended up with me!

My mother’s first image of me was via fax (yes, back in the days of fax machines)! She tells a great story of holding her breath while watching me appear, feet first, her new daughter, Labony. I arrived at Logan International Airport a few months later in the fall.

Simone with Chinese adoptee

Q: How did you grow up?

A: Ha ha--definitely not in an ethnically diverse neighborhood. I grew up in rural Vermont, the second whitest state in the USA. There was little cultural opportunity, but my parents worked really hard to provide whatever they could for us in that regard. My first home was located in the epitome of backwoods Vermont with only a few children (if that!) in each grade and not a single other person of color in the entire local community. (Unless of course you count my brother!)

So we moved to Central Vermont, which could offer a community with other POC, but most importantly, other children of color. Many of these children were also adopted, and we shared a particularly meaningful connection. Central Vermont also had easy access to Burlington, Vermont’s hub of cultural diversity.

My mother brought me to Indian music and dance performances, as well as international festivals and events for Hindu holidays. At some point in my junior high years, my mother and I attended a Bharatanatyam* (Hindustani classical dance) performance. Through members of the crowd, we discovered there was a massi**, who worked in my orphanage in India, present that night, too! (I’m so grateful for the small community in Vermont at times like these!) She is an amazing person, and we still keep in touch on occasion today. The massi, now Auntie-ji, invited me to her house, spoke Bangla around me (though I’m sorry to say I haven’t picked it up), taught me how to cook desi food, and wholly welcomed me into her Bengali home and community without a second thought. I also met one of the main dancers of the evening and began taking Bharatanatyam lessons in Burlington on a regular basis. (A big thanks to my mother for driving me for an hour there, waiting throughout the lesson, paying for private lessons, and then driving me home.)

Simone plays sitar

When I was fourteen, my father indulged my wish for a sitar. I took sporadic lessons throughout high school, as I had to go all the way to Portland Maine to meet with my teacher. I already had a strong musical background through piano lessons as a young child, and flute lessons starting in fourth grade. While this was clearly European classical music with completely different theory, notes, scales, everything, it did offer a base from which to work. I was very passionate about linking my activism with music. This was especially possible when addressing cross-cultural communication and international relationships.

Simone with Big Bang Bhangra Brass Band (B5)
playing Bangra Jazz fusion

I composed pieces for the sitar and European chamber ensembles. The musicians often came from a variety of backgrounds. My favorite musician to play with was Bolivian American. The piece of music I composed that expresses this most is Me Shanti, or into peace. The first-stage version is still posted on my MySpace musician page, since that was the in platform of the time. This composition was selected to open the United Nation’s International Day of Peace ceremony in 2009 as a musical representation of a world in conflict engaging in cross-cultural dialogue and eventually moving into a state of positive peace. The musicians were from three different continents (including myself). Those who performed were of South Asian, Latin@, and Mediterranean descent to further convey the message.

Since I haven’t produced new music since high school (and the days of MySpace), I haven’t felt the need to move to SoundCloud or anything else. I hope to have a page up within a year with some new pieces though! I’ve learned a lot in my music courses at Wellesley that I want to apply.

Simone's collage for justice

While Vermont is very racially hegemonic, there are pockets of non-whites and cultural experiences if you know where to look. I was very fortunate to grow up with those experiences made available to me.

Q: What was like being a child in New England?

A: As I mentioned previously, there were other people of color and other transracial (and transnational) adoptees in the greater Vermont community. My parents met many parents of transracial transnational adoptees, and maintained close friendships. Their friends’ children tended to be the same age as my brother and me, and even occasionally from the same orphanage! This was a great support growing up. We shared concerns with one another and processed our individual experiences together. Though to a certain extent, it did seem natural to be adopted and to be a different race than my parents, because those were the experiences I was surrounded by.

WWA poster designed by Simone

At college, it was quite different and definitely more difficult! I attended Wellesley College outside of Boston, and our campus was approximately 30% AAPI including international students. Most students of Asian descent at Wellesley are not adopted, speak their mother tongue pretty fluently, and had a much stronger vocabulary for discussions around race, culture, and ethnicity than I did. It was intimidating to arrive at Wellesley, but I also felt most at home with other students who identified as AAPI. No one knew I was adopted just by looking at me, and a few people even thought I was an Indian International student. I was told by other Indians that I gave off a certain vibe that led them to believe this and, according to them, was able to hold my own in discussions of Indian culture.

Q: Do you have the same passion for golf as your late father?

A: I actually quite dislike golf! The only reason I hold any fondness for the sport (now) is because my father loved it so much. He was well respected in the field as a historian and writer. My father fell off a bridge (on a golf course, of course!) and was paralyzed from the neck down when I was still in elementary school. He died in 2004, just after my fifteenth birthday, of ALS, Lou Gehrig's Disease. Now that he’s gone, I like hearing golf tournaments on in the background (though I’d never actually sit down and watch). The sound is comforting and reminds me of him.

I would say our mutual passions fall into the category of history, politics, and writing. He was very liberal and used to write incredibly out-there articles under a fake name for a publication in England about Americans. I’m probably more like him than I realize, but it’s hard to tell when your strongest memories of your father are of his illness. My main memories, besides the painful ones relating to his own suffering, are of his laughter and sense of humor, his strength through great adversity. The most useful lesson I learned from both my parents was personal strength during difficult times. I also learned that strength takes on many faces and how to use multiple types of strength to endure life’s hardships.

playing flute in the Himalayas

Q: Have you returned to India, or connected with any relatives there?

A: There is no information on my birth family, so nothing there. But I have returned to India. I studied abroad at an alternative school in India my senior year of high school. This is where I really developed my Bengali American cultural identity. At this school, there were roughly a combined total of 10 American and Canadian students and approximately 30-40 Indian students. I was the only Indian westerner and soon discovered I didn’t fully fit in with either group of students. I wasn’t Indian in the sense that I didn’t grow up in the country and still required a fair amount of help with certain interactions, especially because my Hindi is quite poor. Yet I wasn’t white American. I understood certain cultural etiquettes and was often treated by Indians (students and community members) as though I had never left the country! It was an interesting experience trying to balance the pieces of my identity that fit into both worlds all while trying to remain true to myself as an individual. My experience could not be corroborated with or related to by anyone else in the campus vicinity.

WAA film festival poster

Q: Do you believe that Indian culture is inherent in you, or do you think culture is something that's learned?

A: I believe both. I don’t think one’s culture is inborn, but I think certain people inherently feel more connected to the culture of their heritage. Many personal traits are deep-rooted and even natural, evident at birth. I don’t believe in the “babies are a blank slate” thing. For example, I would also consider myself inherently political and compassionate. I have always been very aware of the world and cared deeply for others. (Perhaps this is what led me to pursue activism!) Even when I was in my first years of elementary school, I would draw posters about current issues and hang them up around school in attempt educate my peers about topics that called for intellectual and moral consideration.

with friend Suh, stepsinging

With regard to culture, part of me definitely has always shown a strong interest in my South Asian heritage and culture. But this was fostered and reinforced by a variety of experiences. I don’t believe that the opposite of inherently feeling Bengali is having to learn the culture. The two are closely linked. If I am interested in my culture from birth, this will lead me to learn about my culture and further my knowledge of it by seeking out experiences that will educate me about my culture. This isn’t an exclusive relationship either! Someone who has shown absolutely no interest in their culture for their entire life could suddenly decide it’s something they want to learn more about and pursue that knowledge without having felt an inherent connection to their roots.

at the Iraqi Youth Leadership Exchange Program

Q: You are so active in your beliefs. Where do you think that comes from?

A: As I said before, I have always shown a strong level of conscientiousness with regard to global issues and exhibited concern with the future of the world and its inhabitants—people and animals alike, although my work does center around racial justice (humans).

Thank you, Simone, for sharing!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

*Bharatanatyam: Hindustani Classical Dance, also known as temple dancing. These dances are for the gods and goddesses of the Hindu pantheon. There are many different styles of Hindustani temple dancing. Bharatanatyam is from Tamil Nadu in the south.

**Massi means caretaker such as an Auntie or someone else of significance…more than, say, a high school babysitter!

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In Between

Greetings, my Hip Hapa Homeez! Welcome back to Watermelon Sushi World, dude.

While the majority of interviews posted on this blog involve biracial people, we also like to include stories of transracial adoptees and those who promote crossing cultures. In other words, we are all about mixing it up.

Like multiethnic folks, this week's guest has also experienced a sense of not belonging. But instead of ethnicity causing her discomfort, it’s generational. Pei Ju Chou considers herself “in between” two generations. Among Asian Americans, those who arrive in the U.S. from another country are referred to as being “first generation”. Their children who are born here are called “second generation”. But, sometimes, families migrate to America after their children have been born and raised in their birth countries. Those kids arrive in the U.S. steeped in their original country's culture and speaking English with accents because their first language was that of their parents. For them, developing a new identity is a complicated process. And, the older they are when they move here, the more adjustments they must make to fit in.

Below, Pei Ju Chou explains what she means by the term “1.5 generation” and the documentary film, Stuck on the Boat, she made about the subject. That's the filmmaker in the photo, below.

Q: What's a nice “1.5 generation” girl like you doing making a documentary about the “1.5” generation experience?

A: I wanted to provide some sort of explanation, or even affirmation, to other struggling “1.5 generation” kids. Growing up, it was always tough for me to find a place to fit in. I was never quite "American" enough to my friends in the U.S., but in the eyes of Taiwanese people, I was too American. What is this identity of being “in between”? What the hell am I then? That was the question I would ask myself everyday when I looked in the mirror during high school. Through talking to a few friends while going to the University of Washington, I started to notice a pattern of experiences for people like me. It was a shared pain and a shared confusion. And, there was my inspiration. I wanted to share this collective voice and experience with others who did not understand. I wanted to use this documentary almost as a shout-out to those other “1.5 generation” kids out there and say to them, "Hey, it's alright to be stuck in between...We are the ‘1.5 generation’ and proud of it!"

Q: Who are your parents and how did you grow up?  

A: My parents are both Taiwanese. I was born and raised in Taiwan until I was 10-years old. It’s kind of funny to think about it. I remember when I was eight, I found out I had a whole bunch of aunties and cousins that lived in the U.S. I remember asking my dad, "We have American relatives?!" After that, we flew over for a few visits over the next couple of years. Finally, my dad decided to move us all there. Both he and my mom believed that it would give my brother and me better educations and better opportunities. That's my grandmother, mother and me above. And, in the photo below, I'm with my father.

Q: Why do you refer to yourself as “1.5”?

A: I wasn't born in the U.S. so I'm not considered second generation. But I'm not quite like my parents--they were born and raised completely in Taiwan and are first generation. So, I felt like I was stuck in-between just like the title of my documentary, Stuck on the Boat. The boat has arrived in America, but the people are still stuck on it. I wanted to be proud of this uncertain identity, and I am comfortable with who I am. The “1.5 generation” is a title I have chosen to claim as a form of empowerment and statement of who I am. Here I am with my brother and cousins in the picture below.

Q: There are mixed-race people, people who are first generation, and people who cross cultures that all experience isolation. What makes it so difficult to be “1.5”?

A: I believe in “intersectionality”. We all come from different backgrounds. All of those specific backgrounds make our experiences as a group unique, and we have our own struggles and difficulties. The “1.5 generation’s” struggle is different in the way that we were once accepted by our home country, and all of a sudden we went from the "in-crowd" to being an "outcast". It is this shift that makes it difficult for most people to accept. Think about it; you grow up thinking and knowing you are one thing, and one move within a short period of time shifts the whole reality around. What you think you know is no longer valid or true. You're kind of stuck in this third space--what I call "cultural limbo"--where you don't really know how to be nor act. It's a tough place to be. I think a lot of mixed-race people and those who cross cultures can resonate with this "limbo" experience one way or another. Like I said, each group has a unique place in society that makes all our experiences different. We all struggle. I'm not saying anyone is struggling more or less. It's a matter of sharing and understanding these pains.

Q: Who were some of your interviewees?

A: Most of them were my personal friends who agreed to share their stories after I told them about what I was doing. Most of them were happy to learn about the “1.5 generation” as a term, and happy to be able to identify themselves as part of that group. 

Among them, Areum Chong, with me below left, was the girl who first told me about “1.5 generation”. She and I shared very similar backgrounds. She moved here from Korea when she was 14, and grew up in Olympia with her aunt and uncle. She told me how the “1.5 generation” was a special generation. She said that we are the only ones that can still absorb the best of both worlds. We have a foundation in our roots because we grew up in Asia, and we learned to absorb western concepts as we grew up in America.

Another interviewee I had was actually born here, but he felt so strongly connected with his Asian roots he personally requested to be part of the documentary. This was how Derrick convinced me: He said, "It's not necessarily 1 is 1, 2 is 2. The 1.5 is everything in between as a matter of a continuum. It is also about a shared experience that makes a person 1.5." Even though Derrick was born in the U.S., he always felt like an outcast at school and among his peers. This is the experience that convinced me to interview him. That’s me with Derrick below.

Q: What is the most significant thing you learned from making this film?

A: We all have some form of struggle to belong somewhere growing up whether we're part of the “1.5 generation” or not. But it’s really what’s in your mind that makes you or breaks you. One common pattern that kept recurring when I was making this film was how the interviewees all said something about "acceptance". There will always be this uncertainty with our identities, and there will always be a struggle between our American peers and our Asian parents. Eventually, we just get used to it and accept it as what it is. It's about embracing ambiguity and being comfortable with who we are. I really hope this theme will resonate with other “non-1.5 generation-ers”. It's about embracing our identity and finding our places.

Q: What are your future plans with Stuck on the Boat?

A: I haven't thought all that much about it. I just want to move forward and capture more genuine Asian American experiences on film and share them with the world. Like my tagline on Pookii (my blog), I want to depict Asian America one story at a time. I’m finishing up my next film about my family restaurant experience, which I think will be a more upbeat and fun documentary. I just hope my “1.5 generation” film has made a difference to someone out there, even if it's just one person.

Thank you, Pei, for enlightening us about “1.5 generation”.

Below are Pei’s links:

Blog: http://thepookii.wordpress.com

Twitter: @peijuchou

And that, Hip Hapa Homeez, is going to be it until January 2011. Your Hip Hapa is taking the next month off to reorganize and regroup. We’ve got multiple projects in development, so please stay tuned to learn more about them.

Please “like” our Watermelon Sushi Fan page on Facebook to keep up with the latest on our film. You can also support us by buying a Hapa*Teez t-shirt, like the one worn by Cassie, below. Besides showing us love, you’ll also earn a rear crawl credit. Just make sure we have the correct spelling of your name once you make your purchase. While you’re on Facebook, please join our Hip Hapa Homeez Group page where we post news of interest to our multi-culti community. You can also follow our sporadic tweets on Twitter.

Along with partner Robert L. Taylor, Your Hip Hapa now hosts a biweekly YouTube show called Sexy Voices Of Hollywood. You can follow us on Twitter, like us on Facebook, and watch the Event page to stay up to date.

Until January 5, I will still be…

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi