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."

************************************************************************************

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

Sweet Rice Chronicles

1,000 lashes with a wet udon noodle for me! I totally spaced and forgot to mention this lovely site I ran into last week. For the "black mothers of blasian, black and Asian children", this blog is an information outlet filled with book and film reviews (including Watermelon Sushi) featuring Afro-Asians. Big up to Renee Tecco and her editors!

http://sweetricechronicles.wordpress.com/

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Knee-Grow-fied Hair, Zebra Couples, And The Fresh LaFlesh

Dear Gentle Reader,

I feel so weird these days wearing my hair in a limp, stringy style I like to call "The Sophisticated Knee-Grow". And, as soon as I took a hot iron to my wavy tresses, I noticed how many sistahs do something similar to achieve a so-called "relaxed" hairstyle. Does that mean if we leave our hair in its natural, curly state, it's "tense" or "uptight"? Why must we make the effort to get our hair to "chill" anyway?

I suppose our approval ratings among the dominant majority go up when our hair is not so threatening as it is when worn natural or in an Afro, braids, or the mack daddy of them all--dreadlocks. There's no getting around it, mixed/black and black hair is political. Back in the day, you were either with us (sportin' a big bushy natural) or with them (toning down any perceived statement of anger with a perm and a press). As militants, we were proud to have hair that was untamed--just like us. Nobody named Toby around here! Nowadays, though, it seems that the 1970's never happened. I see so many weaves and wigs on sistahs in every walk of life. And, look at me. I'm using a hot iron! Why? As usual, I have no answers; just lots of questions.

Speaking of Knee-Grow-fied hair, I recently attended a screening of Samuel Jackson's new flick, Lakeview Terrace, in which Mr. Jackson plays an L.A. cop incensed that his new neighbors are a zebra couple. More about that mess later. But in one scene, his teenage daughter, wearing the "Sophisticated Knee Grow" hairstyle, emerges from their next door neighbor's swimming pool. As Kerry Washington's character hands the teen a towel, Kerry's Chaka Khan-like curls bounce and glisten in the sun. The women's hairstyles are a study in contrast. The teen then tells Kerry, "I like your hair". Instead of the obligatory "thanks" that Kerry utters, I think she should have said, "Well, youthful sistah, now that you got your hair wet, just go take a nap without drying and it'll go back home for you." Get it? Take a nap? A nap? Anyway, it was clear that the screenwriters had no clue about black women or, more importantly, the importance of black women's hair to other black women.

What a disappointment. I was looking forward to seeing how Hollywood would approach the story of a black man enraged by his new neighbors being a black woman and her white husband. But not once are we told anything of the history of interracial relationships. Why do so many black men see red when they see black and white? Hello! Does anyone remember a little thing called slavery? How about when white slavemasters raped black female slaves while black male slaves watched helplessly? If the writers would've written that fact in as a sort of a collective consciousness inherent in some black men like Samuel's character, I would've bought the story. But, no. Warning: Spoiler Ahead! Instead, this movie, directed by Neil Labute (In The Company of Men, Your Friends and Neighbors) wants us to believe that the real reason Samuel's character got his drawers all up in a bunch is because his own black wife died in a car crash in the middle of the afternoon while--get this--she was riding around with her white male boss. Lawd. Here's a rare opportunity to put real issues on the table, and what we get is Kerry 's character and her husband (Patrick Wilson) avoiding the "i" word (interracial) like the proverbial elephant in the room. I know there are mixed-race folks out there just dying to share their well-told tales with the world, and instead we're regulated to Hollywood telling us how it is (not!).

Anyway, don't go looking for any history lessons in Lakeview Terrace, but do look for my friend, VALERI ROSS, who plays "Old Lady" in a scene stealer. Me and Val go way back. That's a pix of the talented actress above with me outside an L.A. restaurant circa 2000, I think. The woman between us is writer/teacher Gabrielle Pina.

So far, it's been a wonderful week. The chill author of Biracial Hair, Teri LaFlesh, sent over photos of herself looking fresh in a Hip Hapa Hapa*Teez t-shirt. Instead of hatin' on the sultry sistah, get your own shirt and then send me a snapshot of you in it so I can post it here and on the new Watermelon Sushi website which will be up soon. It will so be up soon! Yes, it will! And, don't forget, you earn a rear crawl credit with your purchase. Contact me at watermelonsushi@comcast.net for more info.

Meanwhile, I remain...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Hip Hapa Homeez' Work Goes On And On

Aloha blendies, mixies, and multis everywhere!

This morning, our new Watermelon Sushi associate producer in Tokyo sent me the following link and promptly ruined my day. Seriously, this is a sad story so have a box of tissues handy while you read it. Mahalo nui loa, Derrick.

http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/nn20080910f2.html

Amazing, isn't it? How humankind divvies itself into groups based on ethnicity? I know that among wildlife there is sometimes a self-enforced thinning of the herd, but don't humans actually have the ability to reason--to analyze and to rationalize? Or, are we just animals walking upright?

If you haven't read the article above yet, you won't know that I'm talking about mixed-race babies in Japan that were abandoned by their American military fathers and Japanese mothers. Often, the mothers came from poor families made even worse off by post-war shortages and economic despair. What this article doesn't cover, however, is the number of babies born out of wedlock to pure-blooded Japanese parents and given away. I'm sure it was nowhere near the numbers for the hapa kids though. I'm just thankful that my father honored his duty, married my mother and brought us to America. What my fate would have been as a half-black child in Tokyo....I can't even imagine. No disrespect to other women under similar circumstances, but one thing I know for certain, my Moms would've never given me up for nothin'. She's just that kinda lady.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of meeting Teri LaFlesh in the flesh! I've been wanting to say that ever since I bumped into Teri in cyberspace. This sistah with a Caucasian father and African American mother has written the most fascinating book called Biracial Hair. Check out Teri's website and her blog to see for yourself:

www.BiracialHair.info

www.FromerMushroomHairedChild.blogspot.com

And, today, I heard from Allison who calls herself a CHEW. She's Chinese and Jewish, and creative as all get out. I've listed the link to her blog, so go for it:

http://manushkin.wordpress.com/

Besides building the new Watermelon Sushi website, I've been busy with so much Hip Hapa Homeez work that I didn't realize the latest taiga was on NHK. As much as I loved the Shinsengumi and Yoshitsune series, I am really digging this one starring a GIRL! Atsuhime (hime means princess) is fetched to the Shogun's court to convince him to pick a certain successor. It's all castle intrigue with servants weighing in with guarded opinions. In one hilarious scene, the Shogun is tossing beanbags and throws one at the head one of his advisors because he doesn't like what he's saying. Pure Japanese humor, but I love it! There's just something about feudal era drama that sucks me in like a whirlpool.

The pix this week are from left: my Moms about age 20 in Tokyo wearing a handmade (no pattern, no sewing machine) outfit she created; me in Jamaica with my Jah-fro waaay back in the day; and, Teri LaFlesh and me with my new straight tresses yesterday (thank you, Teri!).

Until next time, I remain...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Old Hair/New Hair

Aloha No, Straightened Hair, And A Dedication To Sergio Goes

"You look younger," my neighbor told me tonight as I was taking out the trash.

"Really?" I replied, doubtful as I remembered sleeping only six hours the night before.

"It must have been my trip to Hawai'i," I told him. "I felt so relaxed--like I was home."

Even though my last week's Honolulu island hop ended on a bittersweet vibe, I enjoyed moving among people who looked like me. If you're of mixed races and it shows, being in Hawai'i is like being on a planet filled with all your multiracial brothers and sisters. Sure, there are lots of "pure-blooded" East Asians among other races living there, but there are also many folks that are racially unidentifiable--like yourself. And, that feels comfortable. When you're comfortable, you don't frown or wrinkle your face up in defense. So, you look younger!

Of course, I was also happy to be "home" because I got to spend time with my old buddy Scott Lee who greeted me with a fragrant traditional lei and lunch at our favorite King Street Chinese restaurant. Scott Lee and I go way back to 1994, and we love to "talk story" about local culture; of which Scott's an expert having lived on Oahu all his life.

I also hung out with my friend, Lucy, an NYC transplant and professional photographer. Besides munching on a vegan lunch in Kahala and a homemade dinner at her Kailua home on Windward side, we also indulged in a lot of girly stuff like trying on make-up at Ala Moana Mall. We also got our hair done by a young woman selling electronic hair straighteners at a booth.

That's right. After 20 years of wearing my own personal natural--long, thick, wavy, hair with frizzy ends--I allowed myself to get talked into having an electronic implement iron out the ripples of my tresses to give me straight hair. When Adee first approached me, I balked. After all, I am of the natural garden variety. Rarely do I wear make-up, other than lip and nail color, and I don't like fussy hairstyles. But as Adee smoothed out each strand, my thoughts went from skeptical to amused to impressed. I hadn't had straight locks since the mid-1980's when I would spend precious hours rolling my hair in curlers the size of soup cans then sitting under a scorching dryer with a magazine hoping against hope that it wouldn't rain in Seattle where I lived then. Just one drizzly day would undo my hours of hard labor. Later, when I became more of the artist that I am today, I chucked the rollers and hair dryer and went au natural.

When Adee was done, I just knew I had to have the straight look--at least for a while. Call me a sell-out, but I dig variety and my waves had become boring to me.

My friend Lucy saw it differently.

"But you just said at dinner the other night that one of the problems you had with Michelle Obama was her hair," she reminded me. "You didn't like that she relaxes it."

"Yes," I argued weakly, "but I'm half Japanese and I'm just trying to look more like my mother. Besides, my 'do is chemical free."

All I knew was that I wanted a different look, and looking different made me feel different. Somehow, I felt Native Hawai'ian with my new flowing hair. As I walked around Waikiki tossing my untangled mane, I felt that the locals thought I was Native Hawai'ian, too.

Still ain't buying it? Well, here's what hair author Teri LaFlesh told me when I admitted to using a straightening rod on my hair.

"Hey, I checked out your hair! Even straightened it has so much presence. Hair is a crown, and you wear yours with such flair."

If Teri, the hairx-pert, says it's okay, then ya'll back off.

On to a much sadder note. While in Hawai'i, I discovered that a friend had passed away there in July. Although I hadn't been in touch with Sergio Goes for awhile, I always remembered his warm graciousness. Co-founder of the Cinema Paradise Film Festival, Sergio issued me a press badge in 2003, then went out of his way to invite me and Lucy to all of their Red Carpet events and parties. A filmmaker himself, he also gave us copies of his documentary called Black Picket Fence. The story of two aspiring rappers in a NYC project is told with Sergio's deep sensitivity and humanity. Originally hailing from Brazil, Sergio had a keen ability to hone in on things American and his film shows that. Sergio was also known for his amazing photography which appeared in most of Honolulu's local publications. While it hurts to lose such a downright nice person, I feel fortunate that I knew him at all. This week's blog is dedicated to the memory of Sergio Goes. That's him with Lucy in 2003 in the picture above.

To see my straightened hair, watch for the extra blog following this one.

Mahalo nui loa and aloha no. Rest well, dear sweet Sergio.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

More Hapa*Teez

Eva looks so hot-haute in her Hapa*Teez t-shirt that I just had to post another pix of her.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Hapa*Teez!

Aloha!

I've been hard at work on the new Watermelon Sushi website so I'm going to skip writing the blog this week. Meanwhile, take a look at Eva modeling the Hapa Nation 2 Hapa*Teez t-shirt. Don't hate, now. You can have one, too. Just go to: http://www.cafepress.com/hapateez

See you next week.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Chinese Black South Africans, Korean Mexicans, And Hapa Hair

During this past week, some interesting news floated across my monitor screen. One current story in the LA Times involved Koreans who have lived in Mexico for generations. Not only have they forgotten how to speak Korean, but in many ways they can't even relate to being Asian anymore. Here's the link to this fascinating article:

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-me-koreanmex16-2008aug16,0,2642318.story

Earlier in the week, I read an older article about 200,000 ethnic Chinese living in South Africa and how they've been re-classified as "black" so they can take advantage of anti-discrimination laws--giving them more opportunities to compete for jobs and contracts. Evidently, they were originally categorized under "colored", and because of it were considered white. Since whites still have major advantages in South Africa, the Chinese requested that the High Court re-classify them.

Here's the link to the bbc article:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7461099.stm

I also poked around the 'net and found this very interesting exchange about the very subject at racialicious:

http://www.racialicious.com/2008/06/25/in-south-africa-chinese-is-the-new-black/

What an interesting world! Chinese people are black now, and Koreans are Mexicans. I love it! The more mixed everyone becomes, the better we'll all get along. Don't you think?

Beyond that, it's been a personally exciting week as I continue to hear from more and more Hip Hapa Homeez. As I continue to work on an updated version of the Watermelon Sushi website, I hope to include more of you on it--so, drop me a line.

Last week, I also discovered Teri LaFlesh, a young mixed-race woman who's written very poignantly of her hair struggles while growing up. At last, able to grow a beautiful head of healthy and long hair, she decided to share her "secrets" in a book. She has a website all about her hapa hair experiences. Take a look:

http://www.biracialhair.info/Welcome.html

In the meantime, contact me so I can know who you are. I promise to answer.

btw, my kind neighbor from Ukraine gave me a delicious watermelon the other day. That's not it in the photo, of course, because I already ate it.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Upcoming Events

Aloha Hip Hapa Homeez!

I hope you're having a hapa summer.

There are a lot of upcoming activities tied to this blog, so watch the writer. First of all, there's going to be a major overhaul of the Watermelon Sushi film website including the addition of some new folks to the production. Right now, I'm gathering photos and bios so you'll see the new Watermelon Sushi team, hopefully, by the end of this month. That url again: http://www.watermelonsushi.com

With the re-launch of Hapa*Teez t-shirts, some hip hapas have agreed to model their purchases for both this blog and the film website. So, stay tuned to view some hot, haute, hip hapa homeez in Hapa*Teez!

As the hip hapa population grows, the larger monoracial groups are going to have to start taking us seriously when we demand that our stories be splayed across the screen--both big and small--and onstage and in books to reflect our presence in the world. After all, we have a U.S. presidential contender in Mr. Hapa-bama. Hip hapa homeez, our day is here and we need to carpe diem!

If you know of any biracial bloggers or mixed-race organizations that are forwarding our multi-racial agendas, please drop me a line with their info. Tonight, I'm adding the link to Martine McDonald's blog to my own (on the blog roll to the right). She's a very sensitive sistah, so give her a read. I think she speaks for a lot of us blendies.

And, I'm still recruiting for Guest Bloggers if any of my readers are interested.

Meanwhile, have a hapa week!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

"Ethnic" Hair v. Non-Ethnic Hair

Aloha! It's been another busy week here in my Watermelon Sushi World, and I'd like to thank all my Hip Hapa Homeez who have reached out. A shout out to both Maria K.L. and Jason K. for their support.

Here, check out this very funny video clip about a biracial brother that Jason recently sent me:

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=201Qo-LZ78Y

In addition to blogging, Jason is also interested in creating a group of "federated multi-ethnics". What do you think? Can it be done? Contact him to let him know. His link is listed on the side. One of the topics the Mixed Chicks and I discussed was what, if any, differences exist between a biracial double-minority versus one who is half-Caucasian. Do you know?

Now, on to some fun. Have you ever wondered why there's a section at the drugstore called "Ethnic Hair Products"? I mean, does that imply that non-minorities (specifically non-blacks) have no ethnicity? When advertisers label hair "ethnic", it seems they're really referring to black folks since other minorities, especially Asians, the indigenous and Latinas often have straight hair similar to whites'--which responds to "non-ethnic" hair products. Are black people, and people mixed with black people, the only ones who are "ethnic"? What about Jews or curly-headed Euros?

Growing up, I remember many painful moments as my Japanese mother had such a time with our hip hapa hair. My sister and I had unnaturally thick, unruly manes and before handheld blow dryers were on the market, we were subjected to a weekly washing that consisted of my mother inverting the vacuum cleaner hose to dry our hair. After that, she greased up her palms with Alberto VO-5 petroleum jelly and soon my sister and I would have two long, shiny braids cascading down our chests topped by a little tootsie roll for bangs. Whenever we balked at having our hair combed, my mother would admonish us, "Why make hair so bushy?" Looking back, I have to laugh. While she was chastising us for our Asiatic Afro-puffed hair, she was constantly perming hers! Was she subconsciously trying to look more like us?

I have no answers, just a lot of thoughts. That's me and my sister, br, in Germany.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Mixed Chicks Chat Rules!

Woo-Hoo!

I'm still stoked from my appearance today on http://www.mixedchickschat.com. Hosted by Fanshen Cox and Heidi Durow, this live podcast is all about multiracial people. Every Wednesday, at 2 pm PDT, the two women discuss the mixed-race experience--often interviewing someone who's actively involved in the community. Today, it was my turn.

After talking about my formative years growing up in a monoracial 'hood, I told my now-favorite story about people having issues pronouncing my first name. If you care to scroll back in the archives, you can read my blog about my personal war with George Takei. You know, Mr. Sulu from Star Trek? Several years ago, I attended an Asian American event where Mr. Takei was a guest. Because most people have a hard time saying "Yayoi", over time I've learned to sharply enunciate every syllable when announcing it. When I did so to Mr. Takei, he brushed me off with, "You don't even pronounce your name right!" I wasn't offended until much later when I realized he must think I don't know anything about Japanese culture just because I don't look like him. So, once again, I challenge Mr. Sulu to a duel--Who's More Japanese, Fool?

Anyway, the Mixed Chicks and I had a lot of fun talking about a lot of things. And, fun is important. That's why I've come up with terms like Hip Hapa Homeez and Hapa Japa to identify us blendies. The whole business of being multiracial in a monoracial world is serious enough and, often, our approach is just too academic for the average person to take in. Therefore, my thing is to add a little hiphop, pop culture flava to our experience.

Two topics currently running on my Facebook Hip Hapa Homeez group page are:

1. Why don't more Asian men and black women have interracial relationships? Asian men tell me they think the sistahs are hot, while black women say Asian men are quite attractive. So, what's the problem, ya'll?

2. It's that old bugaboo, hair, again. So many mixed-race people have hair that's different from their parents. It's especially tricky when the mother has a certain texture of hair different from her daughter(s). With boys, I guess, you can just cut it all off. But, in my, and my sister's case, my Japanese mother with her bone-straight hair would simply "plait" our unruly manes after greasing 'em up with petroleum jelly!

Anyway, it's good to connect so check out some of the links I've posted about friends I've been connecting with lately. And, definitely, give the Mixed Chicks a listen.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Albino Massacre

Recently, there's been some disturbing news--sort of race-based--coming out of Tanzania where it's been rumored that albinos (people who lack melanin to produce skin color) possess a kind of magic in their bodies. So-called witch doctors have been telling their clients to provide them with the legs, hands and/or hair of an albino in exchange for magical powers.

What's interesting about this atrocity is that an albino of black African descent has very white-pinkish skin even though his or her facial features are not Caucasian. Therefore, it sort of reinforces that white skin, again, is of more value than dark skin--of course, in a very perverse way since the white-skinned African is murdered for his or her more highly valued body.

Many unfortunate albinos have been living in fear that they will be attacked with machetes, and some have taken to living together in shelters. Besides being a real tragedy, this abomination is just one more area of life where skin color becomes the pervasive issue.

Sometimes, I wonder if it will ever stop.

Here's a link to the BBC coverage of this story:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/em/fr/-/2/hi/programmes/newsnight/7520690.stm

btw, join my Facebook group Hip Hapa Homeez to view stories like this one and take part in discussions about them.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Interracial Cartoon Family And Why We Don't Look Like Countries Anymore

I never dreamed of the day when a syndicated cartoon would feature an interracial family. Since I'm not a regular reader of newspaper comics, I have no idea how long the strip called Jump Start written by Robb Armstrong has been in effect, nor how long it's featured an interracial family. Last week, as I was scanning the Sunday comic page and spotted it, I did a double-take. I didn't dupe the cartoon here because, unlike other folks, I do respect copyright laws. I did check out the artist's site, but the cartoon that ran in my local paper wasn't posted there. Instead, there were some with longer panels.

Anyway, in the four panel piece that I read, a little boy (sort of a beige-ish color) asks his burly, brown-skinned and obviously Negroid-featured father, "Dad, am I black or white?" His father replies, "CJ, your heritage is rich. My side of our family is Jamaican, Cherokee and Nigerian. Your mom is Italian, Irish, and German." The father says this last part while hugging his red-headed, very light beige-ish wife. The boy then asks, "Which one is our favorite?"

In looking over the list of nationalities the father mentioned, I realized that they aren't necessarily races or ethnic groups in of themselves. For instance, one could be born "German", but be of African ancestry because a parent migrated from Ghana. In other words, stating that one is "German" is similar to stating that one is "American". Is everyone in America Anglo? Is everyone in Germany?

It got me thinking about what, exactly, people mean when they tell me I look Brazilian, Cuban or Hawai'ian. When I recently watched Antonia, a Brazilian film about four singing girls of various hues and combos of local Indian, Portuguese and ancestors of African slaves, it struck me how many possibly different looks a Brazilian could possess. When people tell me I look Hawai'ian, do they mean I could pass for a Native like Princess LikeLike, or are they referring to one of the many mixes of hapa Asians or hapa haoles that now inhabit the islands of Hawai'i? What about when they ask me if I'm Cuban? Are they referring to the descendants of African slaves, Spanish invaders, or perhaps Taino or Arawak Indians, or all of the above?

It gets pretty complicated. As more people migrate worldwide, it will no longer be correct to tell someone that they look like a country. We will either need to be more specific, or else forget about racial designations altogether.

I have a Kenyan friend who is Kamba. She tells me that she can easily tell the differences among the main ethnicities--Kikuyu, Luhya and Luo-- even though to us outsiders they all look Kenyan, or African to those less learned. I have another friend who is the stereotyped red-headed, milky-skinned Irish American. She has told me fascinating tales of Black Irish who live in Ireland, and are of African Moorish descent.

My point is that to say someone looks like a particular country anymore is redundant. To state that someone is Jamaican isn't descriptive enough. Bob Marley was Jamaican, but Bob Marley also had a white European father. Do all Jamaicans look like Bob Marley? Certainly not Peter Tosh.

Anyway, it will be interesting to see where the future takes us. Perhaps we'll all become so multinational that we'll no longer be able to distinguish anyone racially based on the country of their origin.

That's me with Ava DuVernay in the photo above. A well-known L.A. publicist, Ava also made a documentary called This Is The Life. I'll post her link, momentarily.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Hancock's And Hellboy's Mixed Marriages

So, maybe it's going to be the superhero movies or the animation flicks that finally make it acceptable to be married to someone with a different skin color than yours. This past week, I attended two (count 'em!) press screenings where the theme of mixed-race couples was couched inside of a larger story, but, nevertheless, pretty obvious for anyone with a functioning brain.

First, there was Hancock. (WARNING: Spoiler ahead!) In this flick, Will Smith plays an anti-hero superhero who, in spite of his heroic deeds, is disliked by the public because of his nasty temper and funky attitude. But guess what? He has a REASON to be so mean. You see, his wife...(well, he doesn't know she's his wife yet because he had this nasty little concussion which led to amnesia so he forgot that he was married to Charlize Theron who, like Hancock it turns out, possesses some superhero powers herself, but who)...had to leave him because together their powers were too potent that it caused others to try to get rid of them (hmmm, is that a hint about race-mixing there?).

So, Theron's character marries a Caucasian mortal as Hancock saves the city while destroying himself with beer and a three-day growth of beard. With some of the swearing that goes on in that movie, I can't believe it's supposed to be a kids' flick. But as far as mixed-race coupling goes, that's a good thing for all kids to see--and everyone else, too, for that matter. If all the people all over the world were exposed to interracial couples constantly as if it were perfectly normal, we might just get past our race issues.

Watching Theron, a white South African, play opposite Smith, an African American, made me wonder what Steven Biko would think were he alive today. That he sacrificed his life for just this type of acceptance for blacks doesn't take the sting away from his death.

In any case, one mixed-marriage in a single movie was something to behold, but two in two movies in one week? That's exactly what happened when Mr. Hellboy with his red skin, horns and tail paired up with Selma Blair aka Liz Sherman, his pyrotechnic sidekick. Even though both actors are white, their characters are a devil and a human who creates fire with her body. And, although the two were just shacking up and not technically married, the fire girl was pregnant with the devil boy's baby which means this film, in addition to encouraging interracial couples, is also promoting biracial children!

If my thoughts appear to be a stretch to you, just take a closer look at both movies. We already know that animated films can be subversive as heck. Sit down with the kids on some Saturday morning and listen to what those cartoon characters are actually saying. Or, watch South Park or The Simpsons. That's the trick, right? If you make it come out of the mouth of something not quote unquote real, then it doesn't really count. So, that's why you can have a chicken spouting socialist philosophy in a capitalistic mainstream cartoon and get away with it. And, that's why superheros can have relationships with beings outside of their own race and it flies with Hollywood.

Just think about it. On that note, I wish you bon nuit in Hapawood.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Hapa*Teez Hollahs!

Important Announcement:

Hapa*Teez is searching for models who have purchased one of its t-shirts. If that describes you, hollah back at hiphapa@comcast.net. We'd like to post a photo of you wearing your t-shirt both on this blog and on the upcoming, updated version of the Watermelon Sushi website.

Now, on to some news about us blendies. This week, Essence magazine posted an online article about biracial actress Karyn Parsons. You may remember her from tv's The Fresh Prince playing the clueless and self-absorbed Hillary. However, Parsons comes across in the interview as the complete opposite of her spoiled character. Instead of being the airhead that Hillary was, Parsons appears to be quite intelligent as she discusses motherhood and what inspired her to write a book about black history. Although her second husband is white like her father, Parsons has a strong sense of her mother's African roots. Yet, the readers' comments that followed her story were incredible. Evidently, there are a lot of angry feelings in the community among mono-racial people who just don't get the biracial experience. While it's true that slavery of Africans by Europeans is to blame for the color-struck attitudes among some of us, we've reached a time in history when we should know that and move beyond it. Some readers even questioned Parsons' right, given her mixed-race heritage, to address black issues! Unbelievable. Yet, in a way, some of their attitudes are understandable given the horrific incidents that still occur to some blacks today.

For instance, several days later, I read about the murder of an African American woman by a hitman who was hired by her Indian husband's father. That's right, Indian as in India. Now, I know you've seen some Indians who are as African-looking as folks from the Continent. And, it's clear that the geographical locations of the subcontinent and Africa are close enough that it's plausible there were travelers bouncing from one locale to another mixing and mingling. Yet this lighter-skinned Indian man felt that his brown African American daughter-in-law was so beneath his son--even after she gave birth to his granddaughter--that he hired someone to kill her. How can hatred, fostered by differences in skin color, still exist in the year 2008? Why do we still have a caste system based on something that no one can help?

Was I on the receiving end of any good news this week? Sure, there were plenty of kind people out there who encouraged and supported my hip hapa agenda. Thanks to Anjulie and Jamilla, Kim of Tacoma, Jaz of the International Black Film Festival of Nashville, rapper Miwa Lyric, Michelle of the WWII War Brides Association, Ms. Lucy of Kailua, the Mixed Chicks, Kahlil Crawford (pictured above), and many more folks that I've probably inadvertently omitted (apologies!).

In spite of the tragedies and continued misunderstandings that abound about biracial, blended, hapa, mixed-race, multi-cultural and multiracial folks, we're moving forward, kids.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Tissue, Toilet Paper, Miwa And Anjulie

Several days ago, my good friend Miwa Lyric presented me with a gift that she had brought all the way from Japan. Nestled inside a small, plastic, pink pouch was a package of thin tissue paper for removing oil from ladies' faces. Both cute and functional, the tissues sparked a conversation regarding various Japanese customs.

A third person sitting with us that day had never been to Japan, and was surprised to hear that Japanese public toilets offer no paper towels with which to dry one's hands. Instead, Japanese carry their own private handkerchiefs with which they pat their wet hands. When you think about it, using one's own hanky is much more sanitary considering that one avoids dispensing a paper towel from a machine that's dripping with the mixture of water and germs left by the previous person. Which brings me to this...what is up with Asians and toilet paper?

At first, I thought it was just our family. I mean, my mother literally walks around with a roll of toilet paper that she uses primarily to blow her nose. She's always had bad sinuses so she's always been stuffed up. But, what's wrong with using a box of tissues? Is she just being thrifty (in only the way that Asians can be) by not purchasing tissues because she already has toilet paper in the house?

One day as I was riding a bus, I happened to look down at the car next to us. There, through the back window I spotted a roll of toilet paper sitting on the rear dashboard. "Hmm," I said to myself silently. "I bet they're Asian." When the bus pulled up ahead of the car, I could see clearly that the family was Asian. Big surprise.

Speaking of surprises, I recently saw a thought-provoking indie film that posed many intelligent questions. Medicine for Melancholy is about two African Americans who find themselves facing each other following a drunken one-night stand. At one point, the male questions the female about relationships and wonders why blacks seem to always cling to whites when it comes to interracial pairings. Why, he asked, don't we ever see a black woman with an Asian man? I wonder that a lot myself. If you know, please drop me a comment.

And, thanks everyone for your support. If you bought a Hapa*Teez t-shirt, please let me know if you'd like to submit a photo of yourself wearing one for this blog as well as for the Watermelon Sushi website.

As for the photo above, that's my sweet buddy Anjulie, a transracial adoptee whom I met several years ago at Occidental College. She'll be visiting this week and filling me in on all her mad adventures. This pix was taken while she was touring Ghana.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

In A Minute

Aloha,

Your Hip Hapa has been so busy working on a documentary and creating new designs for the Hapa*Teez line of t-shirts, that she's decided she needs this week away from blogging. Speaking of Hapa*Teez, you can now get two different Watermelon Sushi logos printed on them.

Please stay tuned for more controversy as Your Hip Hapa returns with several hot topics, and a few new links to some pretty cool blogs and sites.

btw, that's her, above, living in Waikiki in 1994. Recently, she reconnected with a Honolulu friend and will blog about their adventures soon!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Hapa Japas, That's Ja As In "Jah"

Today, I met yet another half Japanese person! It just amazes me how many of us there are because gazing from a distance it appears that Japanese society is highly homogenized with very little race-mixing. Yet, at times, I feel like I know a ton of biracial Japanese people.

Hapa Japas, I like to call us. That's Ja as in Jah Rastafari!

From all the kids I grew up with on Army bases (with their Japanese warbride mothers and fathers that were either black or white Americans) to the woman I met in yoga class today, we are many.

The woman from yoga class, Cathy, has an Irish father and was born and reared in Yokohama. Her daughter's father is also Japanese. I'm really curious to know how growing up in Japan affected her. She has a very European look so maybe life wasn't as traumatic for her as it was for someone like my friend Eriko who is half Okinawan and half black. For Eriko, Okinawa instills both a sense of pride and shame because of the way she was treated for having an African American father.

Interesting, isn't it? That a country (either Japan or Okinawa) that boasts no NATIVE black people quickly built a prejudice against them...based on what, exactly? When you've never had a certain people embedded in your country, how would you know what they're capable of or not? By the same token, whites weren't always treated well by the Japanese either. But, as in most places on planet earth, they fared better than blacks.

It's been a long time since I visited Japan, but back in the 1980's when I did with my mother and sister, we were well received. But, then again, the Japanese tend to put politeness ahead of opinion, so how do I know what others really thought? Obviously, too, because my sister and I were with my mother, we were afforded a certain respect by default. Since my mom was one of "them", my sister and I were give a wide margin for error by the locals.

Because of my advocacy for mixed-race folks, over the years I've been contacted by many half Japanese people. Recently, two sisters, Cassie and Doris befriended me. It's been a real treat to share stories of our similar experiences. And, I'm looking forward to knowing more Hapa Japas, so hollah if you're out there, cuz.

Can you name some Hapa Japas? I just visited a website called Alec In Japan that showcased a dozen half Japanese celebrities--none of whom I had ever heard of.

Here's my very small list because I'm tired and it's late:

Anzu Lawson, actress/comedienne, Japanese mother

Laura Kina, painter/professor, Japanese father

Stewart David Ikeda, writer/professor, Japanese father

Terra Paley, business consultant, Japanese mother

Velina Hasu Houston, playwright/professor, Japanese mother

George Johnston, writer/publisher, Japanese mother

Add more?

That's me in a pic taken by Doug Ing right after I won third place in a citywide art contest in Seattle one year. I cut myself in half to go with my illustration's theme.

Your Hip Hapa and Hapa Japa,

Yayoi

Amazing Race/Passing As Black!

What a profound sense of wonderment in the realization that we may soon have our first mixed-race president in America. Of course, we know that Obama is mixed-race because we know his history. But how many ex-presidents were actually mixed-blood, and didn't proclaim it? Rumors have abound for decades about Warren Harding having Negro blood. Ditto, folks like Jimmy Carter (just look at them lips!) and even Bill, the Ill, Clinton (dope-smoking, sax-playing, womanizer--puhleeze, as if those traits are attributable only to blacks).

It wasn't so long ago when folks would whisper about those who "passed". Passing, the act of denying your birth race and pretending you're of another ethnicity--especially when it means being black but living as white--gained in popularity, ironically, with the progression of freed blacks. As opportunities opened up for regular black folks released from the bondage of slavery, some of those with mixed-blood who could, indeed, would pass for white. Why not? Life was easier for them living as a white person in a white world. And, they could appreciate the advantage of being treated as an equal; that is, if no one ever discovered their dark (ha-ha) secret.

Most black people seemed to be of two minds about the passing phenomena. For one, the black community felt that if one of their own could make it out of the oppressiveness that automatically came with having darker skin, perhaps it was a good thing that one less of their people was suffering.

On the other hand, some blacks saw the rejection of their race as a traitorous act. How could someone choose to be white and leave all their sisters and brothers behind to suffer?

It's an interesting concept, passing, and I've even written a feature film script about such a character in modern times. Email me at hiphapa@comcast.net if you'd like to know more.

One true life story that comes to mind is the tale of Johnny Spain, a follower of the George Jackson Brigade and one of the San Quentin Six who was convicted of murder. A friend once gave me a copy of Spain's bio, Black Power, White Blood, and I was absolutely riveted. Incredibly, Spain was born in 1949 to a white woman in Mississippi who was married to a white man. For some unfathomable reason, she kept her baby following an affair with a black man. In her defense, she may have thought the child was her husband's, but as the baby got older it became clear to everyone that he had darker skin and tighter hair than anyone in their Anglo family. By the time he was six and ready for school, his parents couldn't take it anymore. His mother feared that her husband would harm him, and Spain's white "father" refused to be further humiliated. So, Spain was put up for adoption and sent to live with a black family in Los Angeles. In Mississippi, he'd been too black; in L.A., he was too white. Because he never felt as if he belonged, he acted out by getting into trouble. When he killed a man in a botched robbery, Spain was sent to prison. There, he found George Jackson and, in many ways, himself. Today, Spain is a community worker in the Bay Area.

Of course, it's just speculation, but had Spain been born a little later, he might have been an Obama (the murder rap and bad behavior aside). Certainly his political activism shows he has concern for the community. In some ways, his white mother was as progressive as Obama's. She didn't see color, she said in the book. To her, the black man she had a relationship with was just another man. The Loving v. Virginia case that went to the Supreme Court challenging anti-miscegenation laws didn't occur until 1967. That means, Spain's mother could've been arrested for her act of rebellion. Talk about idealism. Perhaps, that's where Spain inherited his sense of resistance.

In any case, Spain only passed as white because he was a child who had no control over his environment. If anything, Obama is passing as black. Although he's never denied his white mother, Obama refers to himself as a black man. Nothing wrong with that. Passing has now come full circle!

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Here's the link to a really great article on Johnny Spain. http://www.chipbrown.net/articles/spain.htm

New Publishing Date

Dear Faithful Reader,

With the busy summer months almost upon me, I've decided that I can only devote one day a week to blogging. I shall return on Wednesday with my weekly blog. Please stay tuned.

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

P.S. My condolences to Mr. Bo Diddley's family and friends. Mr. Diddley, who recently passed away, was (as an excellent article in the New York Times claimed) one of the original founders of rock-n-roll. I recall seeing him, as a 19 year-old, at an outdoor musical festival--back when outdoor musical festivals used to be psychedelic. Among a bunch of hippies with flowers in their hair (and not much else on their bodies), Mr. Diddley traded sexually-laced barbs and quips with a female in his band. My mouth dropped open and stayed that way throughout his entire performance. I had never heard such language spoken anywhere before! Still, Mr. Diddley was entertaining and powerfully talented as so many black musicians that hailed from the South often are/were. May his soul find peace.

That's me in the photo at 17, not 19. Check out those earrings!