In July, during a standup set in Provincetown, Massachusetts, Rosie O’Donnell apologized if there were any Native American people in the room. I felt a knot in my stomach, sitting far to one side of the stage. As she launched into her story about her 2012 heart attack and recovery, I couldn’t help but see that I was the only Indian person in the beachside club.
She described her experience near-death as the central role she played, portraying an Indian doctor. As the room burst into laughter, she proceeded to tell a funny joke using that voice, which the doctor had.
When I found myself with a flooded body and flushed cheeks after the rush of adrenaline, I couldn’t help but laugh. I felt sweat dripping from my forehead and decided to take a big sip of inexpensive Sauvignon Blanc. As I looked at my friends, who seemed uncertain, I realized they had come with me.
O’Donnell made the joke, utilizing our ethnic distinctions as a means for self-deprecating humor; to be precise, she did not utter any explicitly offensive remarks, instead, she employed the doctor.
I later apologized if you were offended by the fact that the doctor from Bombay couldn’t recall others she claimed she had performed many accents that night. O’Donnell replied on Twitter, admitting that it was jarring and proven otherwise. Provincetown’s history as a haven for queer travelers and O’Donnell’s accepting and liberal politics had led me to imagine it as a space where I could be myself. However, when it comes to race, I pointed out on Twitter that even someone as progressive as O’Donnell can have blind spots. I expressed my discomfort later.
It is socially acceptable for Americans of Asian descent to enjoy comedy, even in the most liberal environments. One user wrote, “There is nothing funny anymore in this new progressive liberal PC world.” Many of my replies included the common refrain, “Grow up, it’s just comedy.” O’Donnell’s fans came to her defense on Twitter.
In September, when SNL employed and swiftly dismissed Shane Gillis due to derogatory comments targeted towards the LGBTQ+ community and racially insensitive remarks regarding individuals of Asian descent, a 2016 interview resurfaced wherein the comedian mentioned experimenting with fresh content at intimate venues.
The remarks that led to Gillis’s firing illustrate how Asians are still seen as the butt of jokes, using an accent as a punchline, which sought to marginalize other minorities. Although some may argue that Gillis’s jokes were groundbreaking rather than racist, his dismissal was a response to the outdated and offensive nature of his jokes, which pushed the boundaries of what is considered acceptable comedy. It is important to distinguish between what is funny and what is hurtful, and to react accordingly, rather than simply throwing things out there to see how people will react.
It was inconsequential, informing her spectators that she would probably upset someone similar to me as she expressed regret. She was the sole Asian American, and evidently the sole individual of non-white ethnicity present to the best of my knowledge. Perhaps she felt more confident due to her perception of the situation or the composition of the club that evening. Teasing about his accent appeared acceptable since it did not appear that she was targeting someone of lower social standing – how could she, while being confined to a hospital bed? She depicted her doctor as an exemplary minority, adopting O’Donnell’s routine.
Racism, both overt and casual, has long been a taboo subject, but in recent years, there has been a slight increase in the representation of Asian Americans in Hollywood. Politicians are increasingly recognizing the importance of taking into account the diverse and vastly populated Asian American community when it comes to voting power. However, it is important to note that income inequality is rising faster among other ethnic and racial groups than among Asian Americans, who are actually the fastest-growing minority group in the United States. Nevertheless, there are certain factors, such as perpetuating humor at our expense, that contribute to the impression that casting Asian Americans as minorities is insignificant due to our perceived lack of numbers or our unwillingness to speak up or band together.
Why hasn’t popular culture kept up?
Deep roots of racism in pop culture
Apu Nahasapeemapetilon, portrayed by Hank Azaria, from The Simpsons, and Long Duk Dong from Sixteen Candles were exaggerated depictions of Asian individuals that appeared frequently in beloved films and television shows during my generation. Ms. Swan on MADtv in the 1990s presented a less literal portrayal of an Asian person, with Alex Bornstein playing the character. The Party (1968) showcased Peter Sellers as an actor of Indian descent who darkened his complexion and used an accent. Mickey Rooney portrayed Holly Golightly’s Japanese landlord in Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961). There are numerous examples of peculiar and over-the-top Asian characters in movies and TV.
According to Ellen D. Wu, director of Asian American Studies at Indiana University, Bloomington, Asian Americans were viewed as comically strange. Another perspective was that these differences were not seen as threatening. They were considered entirely different from white Americans and were referred to as ‘Orientals’ or Asians, which has a long history of casting and denigration in American culture.
Hari Kondabolu, a comedian, said in an interview with Emily VanDerWerff on the Vox podcast “Think Again, You’re Interesting” that The Simpsons, a show that features the character Apu, has had a significant impact.Output: Hari Kondabolu, a comedian, stated during an interview with Emily VanDerWerff on the Vox podcast “Think Again, You’re Interesting” that The Simpsons, a television series that showcases the character Apu, has exerted a substantial influence.
In 1989, when the TV show premiered, Apu was certainly one of the most prominent representations of Indians on American television, but he was also one of the very few. “That’s why Kondabolu told Vox, Apu is a little bit of the poison of racism.” Although it remains unclear whether The Simpsons will retire Apu, it was announced by Azaria this month at a TCA panel that he will no longer voice the character. Apu is just one of several ethnically stereotyped characters on The Simpsons, including Willy the Scottish groundskeeper.
Comedy, particularly American comedy, has a long history of mining ethnic and racial differences, which has brought minority groups into conflict with the dominant culture of whiteness, defined by humor that still lingers today, through a series of scandals involving politicians, including the Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau and the Governor of Virginia, Ralph Northam, seemingly wearing blackface in old photos. This conflict can be traced back to successive waves of immigration and the emancipation of black slaves from around the world.
The author and assistant professor of media studies at the University of Virginia, Shilpa Davé, argues that humor in American film and television exposes deeply rooted classism, sexism, racism, discrimination, prejudice, and institutionalized inequality. She emphasizes that while it is important to raise awareness and challenge these issues, it is crucial to ensure that racist and offensive humor does not receive widespread acceptance.
Jeet Heer, in his response to the Apu Problem in the Republic of New Caricatures, highlighted the pushback historically faced by other minority groups as they gained political and cultural power.
Amos ‘n’ Andy and Happy Hooligan [popular minstrelsies of black and Irish Americans, respectively] became anachronistic because the communities they caricatured acculturated and found their political voice. Irish immigrants gave way to the American-born Irish, who had less tolerance for ethnic jokes and felt empowered to speak up. Amos ‘n’ Andy, meanwhile, was really a comedy about the first generation of African Americans who left the rural South for a life in the urban North. As those migrants settled in cities and became politically active, they too began to challenge how they were represented in pop culture.
In the past few years, Asian Americans have also reached a comparable milestone. Davé asserts, “There will always be individuals who will reduce minority groups to objects.” She states, “However, can we overpower this objectification by introducing fresh perspectives on what we find humorous, as well as on the individuals we consider as comedians? I believe we have arrived at that point.” She adds, “It’s just that we may not have the sufficient numbers at the moment.”
In the aftermath of the Black Power movement, historian and activist Yuji Ichioka coined the term “American Asian” in 1968, recognizing the potential for uniting shared identities. However, we cannot even agree among ourselves and lack a cohesive block. Perhaps, this is the way we are standing in the American society, without a lot of power.
I acknowledge the limitations and usefulness of uniting as Asian Americans in situations like this. However, I personally find it easier to identify as desi or South Asian. Considering the vast and diverse nature of this group, I question whether it would be presumptuous of me to advocate on their behalf. Asian Americans do not have a shared language, culture, or civic agenda, as they originate from almost 20 different countries. Nevertheless, achieving long-lasting unity has been challenging.
Based on the US census data, the current population of Asian Americans accounts for 6 percent, which is slightly lower than half the number of African Americans. Wu suggests that this consideration of comedy as a lucrative industry needs to incorporate various factors. Wu further argues that those in positions of power might not truly consider the presence of Asian Americans if they have a specific perception of their market share. Similar to the examples provided by Heer, Irish and African Americans not only gained political representation but also experienced economic prosperity, becoming consumer markets for various products, including popular culture.
An increase in Asian American visibility in public life is turning the tide
Christmas Last year, the success of Crazy Rich Asians has proven the mainstream appeal of rom-coms headlining actors like Henry Golding. In the past few years, our power as voters and consumers has significantly grown, along with the representation of Asian Americans in American pop culture and comedy.
Andrew Yang, a Democratic presidential candidate, remains at 3 percent in the polling for the race. In 2020, Minhaj Hasan, a comedian and movie actor, dedicated an episode of his show, Patriot Act, to the rising significance of the Asian American electorate. Ali Wong has released two smash-hit Netflix specials, while Bowen Yang has been hired for SNL after his breakout MVP season. Kumail Nanjiani and Riz Ahmed have become part of two of Hollywood’s biggest fantasy franchises, Marvel Universe and Star Wars.
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Yang’s strategy around his identity has included embracing American Asian stereotypes, as I often remark on the “doctors lot a know I, Asian am I” stage debate, or simply reading “Math” with a wink, wearing a campaign gear that resembles some popular assumptions shaped by American policy on Asian demographics.
I understand Yang’s desire to get out in front of jokes that seem cliché and make me cringe because they also lend credence to stale stereotypes. Wu indicates that Yang’s words likely reinforce stereotypes rather than provide understanding of his limitations. Wu says, “We could be or are we who, as information mediated through popular culture, might not have a lot of daily contact with Asian Americans, especially for people who might not have a lot of daily contact with Asian Americans.”
However, he propagates the idea that stereotypes, such as those that perpetuate the system of racism, work ideologically to uphold black people in inferior positions.
The notion that a racial minority group was advancing by working hard and minding their own business, without complaining about the system, was a rhetorical tactic used by those seeking to justify their inaction on civil rights. The charges of racism leveled against American society partially stem from the myth of white supremacy, which is a stereotype perpetuated by the “folk model” of Black racism.
The work of demanding more is on successive generations
Wu states, “Therefore, you have the ability to craft a humorous remark pertaining to that subject, as it conveys a positive connotation and, without a doubt, everyone possesses their Indian physician.” “Individuals have a tendency to express, ‘Why is the model minority stereotype seen as problematic? Wouldn’t you want to be perceived as intelligent and accomplished?'” I acknowledge that this is nowhere close to experiencing a derogatory remark or a more severe form of discrimination. My initial reaction is to roll my eyes, rather than physically confront them (and then admit that I am not proficient in mathematics) when someone assumes that I excel in math. Being subjected to the model minority stereotypes is contradictory.
Maybe she thought he might be a bit funnier if he sounded more Indian, but her recollection of him has improved since then. In her HBO documentary “Stand Up, Heartfelt: Rosie O’Donnell” in 2015, O’Donnell recounted the same story when she oddly didn’t give any particular accent. But as I mentioned in my reply to O’Donnell, everyone in my family except me is really from Bombay, so she didn’t give me a doctor except for a doctor in my family.
When my family visited over the holidays, I described the moment to them and asked how they made it. If I had been one of my parents, I would have been furious if she had imitated me there.
My dad said, “Comedy is simply comedy. It’s all good; they’re just joking.” They confessed to him that they were actually looking for an Indian doctor because they presumed his competence. They have already proven themselves, and he is right. Both of my parents are retired and emigrated to America in the ’70s with their medical degrees, but they have very little to mock or minimize their achievements. However, is it not strange that the room is full of people laughing at the way they talk?
My mother responded, “It doesn’t give me a positive feeling.” She mentioned, “However, did you know? There are 40 distinct Indian accents in the nation,” and individuals from various parts of India might find amusement in each other’s accents. She stated, “If that’s the extent of her actions, and she didn’t mock it,” such as using exaggerated facial expressions or body movements, “then it’s acceptable.”
An exciting sensation, might have seemed sufficient, a sporadic view of an engineer or taxi driver with a strong accent, portrayed by an actor of brown ethnicity on television or vocalized by a white comedian behind the microphone is one contrast between the mentality of my parents as first-generation immigrants and my own; they’ve never anticipated encountering their own reflection in the culture they embraced.
Davé told me, “Why was O’Donnell using that stereotype, reinforcing the status quo rather than moving things forward? Especially when doing comparative studies on race, including Asian Americans. And why was she the only one using it when there was no one else around? Because you were highly aware of the environment, why did I feel the need to lighten up and change my accent just to fit in?”
It sure feels like a forward push to continue towards the goal, both for me and millions of Asian Americans and other minorities who were born here but are consistently marginalized by comedy, whether it is offensive or lazy. Additionally, it applies to first-generation immigrants who will continue to come here and be labeled as foreigners based on their appearance and accent. According to Davé, the focus should not be on making Asians stop appearing foreign, but rather on the political controversy and discussion surrounding the question of what America truly represents in our current era.
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Keanu Reeves, indeed, and Lana Condor, the reigning queen of romantic comedies on Netflix, from Fresh Off the Boat, who has appeared in all six seasons, are both admired. They excel in stand-up comedy clubs and are gaining popularity among online audiences. Similar to Awkwafina, it is evident that the answer to the question of whether Asian South comics are gaining prominence is a resounding yes.
It appears that the generation of comedians and artists are remaking the culture, making it more anticipated and demanding. However, the viewers seated in the center and front are not satisfied with just small portions, they desire more.