Imagined "Realities": The Sopranos and Ways We Justify Violence and Oppression

[Disclaimer: This entry contains a lot of potential spoilers for those of you who haven't seen The Sopranos.]

 Dear World:

Aside from learning several, strange, and food-obsessed/centered Italian epithets, watching The Sopranos has actually been a really great experience—not only for the vicarious thrill of violence and good dialogue, but also in shaping my critical eye when watching well-written TV shows.  The Sopranos is one of those shows that purports realism (or at least its viewers say so), but for those who are not connected to the mafia in North Jersey, how the fuck are we supposed to know what is real and what’s not?  Is there a ritual to becoming a made man?  Probably.  Is there a lot of in-family tension and violence?  Likely.  Are members of the mafia racist and misogynists and homo/transphobes?  Again, likely.  But there is definitely something to be said for our individual and collective imagination(s) about what we consider “realistic,” and how that may relate to our own fantasies/justifications for racism, sexist, classism, violence, etc. 

Don’t get me wrong, watching The Sopranos has been fantastic.  We’ve watched two and a half seasons in three weeks (let’s thank my mom’s (f)unemployment for that!).  Many of the characters are dynamic, deeply disturbed and complex, and pitiable.  It’s always an emotional trip to hate a character (and their behaviors) in one moment, and feel deeply for them the next.  I feel that way during Tony Soprano’s therapy sessions, during Chris’s struggle with staying clean, with Vito’s struggle to survive as an out-ed gay man in the mafia, etc.  And my response to people’s struggles, their desires, and their violence makes me investigate my own struggles, desires, and violence.  Why is it that I find ways to codify and justify certain types of vengeful violence?  Why do I find myself rooting for Tony to beat the shit out of someone doing something misogynistic, when Tony himself is full of misogyny?  How is it that I find more humanity in certain characters who, in behavior, do the same exact things as a character who, in my eyes, has no humanity?  These are questions that I ask myself as a canine viewer, and the impetus behind these questions makes this an undeniably good show.

However, good shows can be fucked up, and that fucked-up-ness should always be investigated, no?  There have been many articles and blog entries about the violence against women on this show.  I won’t really go into that.  Obviously it upsets me (and definitely my mother) greatly.  For me, I’m more curious about what this pattern of violence means in the context of the low ratio/percentage of female characters that the audience can empathize with, as compared to the rather high ratio/percentage of male characters that the audience can empathize with.  Let’s list the central female characters of the show (at least up to the third season): Carmela, Janice, Livia, Adriana, Charmaine, Meadow and Dr. Melfi.  Carmela, though quite obviously devoted to the idea of being a wife, is often “annoying” and “nagging.”  Obviously the audience understands that she struggles with her husband’s trade and infidelity, but to me, she is written to be annoying and nagging.  Janice is written to be hateful, manipulative, malingering, lazy, shameless, licentious, and selfish.  Wait, so is Tony!  However, anyone who has watched the show will probably say that Janice has no depth, no history, and no profound reason to be pitied or empathized with.  Just like Tony, she is a victim of her family’s history of depression and her mother’s vindictive parenting style.  But, for whatever reason, she is more of a pain in the ass and more unlikeable than Tony.  In the scene below, Janice steals the prosthetic leg of her mother's in-home help, because her mother gave the "help" a set of records that she wanted for herself:

Livia, Tony’s horrible mother, is written to be a joyless, selfish, borderline personality who only struggles retroactively with her decision to have her son clipped.  So many of Tony’s serious and violent faults as a human being supposedly stem from this woman’s inability to be a “good” and giving mother.  And even as a viewer who understands the one-dimensional, unforgiving and simplistic analysis of a man’s incredible violence, I still feel for Tony’s hatred towards his mother.  The scene below is great.  For those of you who don't know what's going on here, this scene happens after Tony's mother "silently" agrees that her son should be clipped.  Livia is actually a VERY interesting and complicated character, but her complexity doesn't have any context the way that Tony's complexity does.

 Adriana, though sweet and undeniably supportive, is almost ridiculed by her lack of talent/smarts and her supposedly simplistic view of the world.  Tony's girlfriends are both mentally/psychologically unstable and suicidal, as if to say that these women cannot live without a strong man like Tony. These are clips of Tony's relationship with Gloria Trillo.

On and on we go.  The only central female character that has incredible depth (the way that Tony, Sil, Sal, AJ, Paulie, Chris, Junior, Johnny Sack, etc. are written to be profound), in my opinion, is Dr. Melfi.  To me, Dr. Melfi is a poignant reflection of my own struggles as a viewer regarding my desire for seemingly justifiable payback.  But she’s pretty much it.  This is an amazing scene after Dr. Melfi survives a sexual assault, and dreams of having Tony, her patient, protect her from violence.  It's a really interesting, complicated, and powerful scene.

I'm not saying that these women are completely pathologized by the show.  I am saying that they are written to be far more one-dimensional than the central male characters who also demonstrate similar "faults."

So what does it mean that in the context of intense sexual, emotional, physical, and psychological violence against women, that female characters are written to lack depth who cannot elicit much empathy from the audience?  Is that merely an accurate reflection of how made men view and treat women?  Maybe…partially.  Is it an accurate reflection of how fucked up mothers make their sons violent and depressed?  Well, yes, fucked up mothers can really fuck us up.  Or, perhaps, is it part of the imagination of the director and of the collective audience that we somehow want to reify, justify and codify the idea that violent, powerful and manipulative women with whom we empathize cannot exist the way that violent, powerful and manipulative men can?  Is there something threatening about a powerful, manipulative and intelligent woman who can wield violence in the same way as a man?  Of course.  Janice and Livia are examples of how these types of women rarely exist in “realistic” portrayals of anything. 

In a similar vein, I also think about the ways in which people of color are portrayed on this show in addition to the ways that the main characters handle their racism.  First of all, there are no central characters of color.  And one might argue, “well, this is a show about the mafia, so of course there aren’t any central characters of color.”  People might argue the same thing about the lack of central female characters.  But clearly the Soprano’s family works with young black men to steal some cars, do the dirty work, etc. 
 

Additionally, all the characters of color are written with even less depth or personality than the women on the show, and are either young and violent men (where the violence isn’t “justified,” as it is with the Italian-Americans), or simple victims of violent racism.  The only minutely complex character is the black activist who demands for Tony’s construction crews to hire employees of color, who, of course, takes a deal from Tony, which makes him a compromised, crook of an activist.  For those of us who are familiar with the politics of compromising for the sake of safety and for movement-building, we may see some complexity in this activist’s decision, but for many viewers (who already harbor some racist sentiments), this appears to be a crooked activist who actually doesn’t care about the well-being and safety of his community.  We also have a black character who dates Meadow, and he is seemingly framed as the “antithesis” of the audience’s imaginary black man – he is an intellectual who cares more about his grades than he does about anything else. 

Many people have already posed the question of whether this show is racist, sexist, and homo/transphobic.  The response is usually framed around a posed reality.  People say that this show only demonstrates and exposes the reality of the mafia and THEIR racist, sexist and homo/transphobic sentiments.  Even if this is the case (which I obviously don’t), what does it mean if this reality, these horribly violent feelings towards women, people of color and LGBTQ folks, is reflected in the viewer?  Even if the intention behind these portrays is to expose the truth, what happens when the viewer finds him/herself in a nostalgic haze, hearing Tony talk about how his daughter should never date a black man, or finds him/herself becoming smug upon learning the supposed crookedness of the black activist? 

But the bigger point is: where does the argument that this is "reality" stem from?  What do we know of this world?  How much of our imagination dictates what we understand as reality, and when something is labelled as such, are we given permission to become complacent?  There is motivation behind labeling the violence, discrimination and hatred in The Sopranos as something that reflects fact.  

I guess my real question is this: What would it look like for TV show creators to feel socially responsible for not only the intent, but also the impact of their work?  What would it look like for TV show creators to be proactively anti-racist, anti-misogynist, anti-homophobic?  If this was part of the picture, the “realism” of The Sopranos would look really different.

That being said, I’m not going to stop watching this show.  Mostly because my parents wont’ stop watching the show.  But also because it is still interesting and well written.  Because it helps me to identify what dialogues I want to pursue with regard oppression in TV shows, since the conversations around representation are just not enough.  And because I think Italian epithets are hilarious.  Of course, they are horrible and totally full of horrible meaning.  But “fennel” and “eggplant” and “polenta-eater” are translations of some of the mean and oppressive insults that Italians throw around.  Those all sound lovely, and make me hungry.

Okay – I’m out.

With Love and Rage,

Mandu

On Canines in the Media

Dear World:

As a proud member of the “domestic” dog species (a/k/a Canis lupus familiaris), I have a lot to say about the human race’s general assumptions about my “people.”  A lot of words are uncritically thrown around (and, by now, you all must know that I hate when people are uncritical!  Use your damn brain, please!) in association with dogs: loyal, needy, obsequious, brave, etc.  Sure, there are some dogs out there who meet any and/or all of these descriptions, but just like humans, each of us are different, unique and lovely.  Though we are, indeed, unique and lovely, sometimes I feel like the depiction of dogs in feature films really feeds into negative stereotypes.  However, there are also movies out featuring canine stars that really inspire me.  To help you all understand what I mean by all this, I will be reviewing the best and worst 2 movies starring canines.

I am a fierce advocate for going through and beyond the politics of representation in the media, but there is something really satisfying about crushing negative (and even positive) stereotypes of my species.  So here goes:

WORST TWO CANINE REPRESENTATION IN FEATURE FILMS

1)  AIRBUD: The Dog Is In The House (1997)

For those of you who haven’t seen this little “gem” of a movie, don’t.  So basically, this boy named Josh Framm has to move in with his family in Washington State because his father passes away.  Josh is a pretty shy dude and has a hard time making friends.  He meets a Golden Retriever named Buddy who had just escaped from an alcoholic and abusive owner named Norman Snively (I actually like his name, btw).  Blahblahblah, against all odds, we learn that Buddy can…DUN DUN DUN…play basketball.  Blahblah, Josh joins the team…blahblah…abusive bball coach is replaced by former NY Knicks player…custody battle over Buddy…happy ending.

Okay, so I’m not heartless.  I can certainly appreciate the gravity of such a somber situation for little Josh.  Yea, and Buddy had a hard life, too.  But the movie is just too formulaic, and as an abused dog, I think Buddy probably has more depth.  But no, HOLLYWOOD says that abused characters who end up playing basketball should not be deep, they should merely play a cheap, sentimentalist role.  Hmmm…is this a familiar narrative trajectory? 

Rating: 1.5 out of 5 paws

2) BEVERLY HILLS CHIHUAHUA (2008)

Um…I don’t even know where to begin with this one.  I don’t know if the depiction of the dog characters is worse or better than the depiction of Mexico.  But let’s just dive right in, shall we?

A lady leaves her pet Chihuahua (Chloe) with her irresponsible niece who takes the dog to Mexico.  Of course, in Mexico, since it’s a scary, awful, crime-ridden place, Chloe gets dognapped and sent to the dogfights.  Did you read that correctly?  Yes, you did.  Yea.  Chloe meets a nice German Shepherd to helps her, but they barely escape the menacing Doberman Pinscher named “El Diablo” who is sent to capture her.  Then, of course, Chloe makes it back to her sweet home in Beverly Hills.

What. The. Fuck. Right?  Okayokay…let’s start with the dogs.  There are definitely dogs out there who have a bad rep.  The list looks like this: Pitbulls, Rottweilers,  Dobermin Pinschers, Akitas, Bullmastifs.  I even found this website that says that these dogs are “inherently violent.”  Dog-ist, much?  Geez…for ALL these breeds, if the dog is even mildly trained, which they usually are, they are the best dogs ever.  I’m going off track here, but I just want to go on the record and say that my absolute favorite dogs to play with here in Brooklyn are pittbulls and rottweilers.  They’re the nicest, most tolerant dogs, and are WAY less violent than those yappy little yorkies and pekanese dogs.  This isn’t the place to get into this…but there is also a racialized and classist component to people’s fear of these dogs.  But seriously…a “violent” pinscher named “El Diablo?”  Get the fuck out of my house, Disney.  I will whack your face with my bushy-ass tail for this.  What happens when certain breeds are portrayed as inherently violent?  What happens when certain people are depicted as inherently violent?  Awful assumptions.  That’s what.  Assumptions that often lead to unfair and unnecessary fear, and unfair and unnecessary consequences. 

Okay, let’s move onto the whole poop-colored picture this movie creates for Mexico, which, I assume, is meant to be the clever opposite of Beverly Hills. 

Hmm…I actually have nothing to say about it.  It’s dumb.

Rating: 0.5 out of 5 paws

BEST TWO CANINE REPRESENTATION IN FEATURE FILMS

BALTO (1995)

 Hell to the yes.  If you haven’t seen the movie, here’s a summary:  Balto, a wolf-dog hybrid, is shunned and rejected by humans and dogs in his town.  He only has “wild” friends.  One day, a dogsled race is happening.  One of the teams is led by Steele, a proud of fierce Siberian Husky.  Balto sees a girl named Rosy with her female husky at the event, and when Rosy’s hat blows away with the wind, Balto outruns the sled team and retrieves the hat to show off to the female husky.  Yabbadabba!  When Balto tries to get closer to Jenna, Rosy’s dad pulls Rosy away from him.  Balto is dejected and walks away as Steele and the other dogs bully him.  Night after the race, a bunch of children (including Rosy) fall ill and the local doc has run out of beds.  Balto tries to comfort the female husky, and somehow gets framed for a bad thing Steele does.  The town decides that a sled team will have to go get the medication for the children.  A race is held to see which dogs will go, and Balto enters.  He wins, of course.  He’s disqualified, though, because Steele hurts Balto which forces him to bear his teeth.  Sigh.  Can Balto win?!  Steele is in charge, but the dumbass gets them lost and disoriented.  Balto goes on a rescue mission, finds the dogs, but Steele has gone insane and is filled with such intense and maniacal hatred that he falls off a cliff.  Balto is chosen as the new leader, but Steele, who is unhurt, creates false trail markings to throw Balto off (what a dick, right?!)  But ultimately Balto prevails, not in spite of his difference (his half-wolfedness), but because of it. 

Do you have chills?  I do.  I’m crying, a bit.

Of course, this movie also utilizes sentimentalism, but there is actually a point to this.  This is the all-too-common story of the Other who is shunned, bullied, and feared.  But this town was forced to slowly realize that their fear of his difference almost resulted in the lives of the sick children.   And of course, watching Balto try to awkwardly flirt with a husky was insanely adorable. 

Last win: Balto is best friends with not only one, but two polar bears. 

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 paws

HACHI: A DOG’S TALE (2009)

Grab your hanky and be prepared for the biggest emotional rollercoaster of your life.  Perhaps I’m a bit biased and I love this movie because it revolves around an Akita, which is kind of a cousin to the Shiba.  Or perhaps this is just the best movie of all time.  World, you should judge for yourselves.

In this beautiful story, a music professor (played by Richard Gere) finds an Akita puppy at the train station, from which he commutes to work every day.  He scoops up the fluffball into his arms and looks for an owner, but one cannot be found, so he brings the pup home.  Note: home is a bit of a trek from the train station.  Drama ensues about whether he is allowed to keep the dog (whose name is Hachi) if an owner cannot be found because his wife does not initially want it. They grow up together, and the Akita is just LOVELY!  Everyday when Richard Gere goes to the train station, Hachi escapes from his home to walk behind him to send him off.  Everyday, right before Richard Gere returns home at five, Hachi escapes from his home and greet Richard Gere.  Adorable, right?  Well, here’s the kicker.  Richard Gere dies, but Hachi goes to the station everyday, waiting for him.  Everyday for nine years.  Until his last, dying breath.  This. Is. Based. On. A. True. Story. 

Are you bawling?!  Well, of course not.  My summary does not do this movie justice.  I wish I had a clip of my mom’s face during the last 20 minutes of this movie – it’s like her eyes and nose were faucets.  Nasty, but illustrative of the power of this movie.

You know, I’m not a sucker for sentimentalism, especially when I can very easily see the telos, the purpose, and the strategy behind the sentimentality (e.g.  ASPCA commercials asking for donations).  And though this movie is filled with sentiment, there’s no strategy, no desired end…just a feeling of sadness and joy about the potentials of loyalty and love in the world.  And this movie doesn’t demonstrate the dumb kind of loyalty that most movies portray in dogs…you know, the drooling I-LOVE-MASTER-MASTER-LOVE-ME type of loyalty.  It’s much deeper.

Rating: 10,000,000 out of 5 paws

"Hipster Racism": An Easy Way Out

Dear World:

It's been a little while, I know.  I know that you all depend on my slightly vindictive point of view, but things had just been so crazy.  My body is growing faster than my teeth, for example.  My parents say that I look a little bit like a rat, or a rabbit, or something like that.  

My teeth may or may not look something like this.

Also, these enormous paws of mine make it difficult for me to type, but I have a secret remedy for that.  I control Yejin's mind for moments at a time and she types for me.  

This is what blogging was like for me when I first started, FYI.

This is what I looked like before my paws became enormous.

And these are, like, literally the size of my paws now.  How the hell is a pup supposed to type on those teenytiny mac keyboards with dumbass hands like this?!

In any event...let's move on.

Two words: Hipster racism.  I think there’s something mildly useful about this phrase that has been thrown around a lot in the past couple of months – it allows people to name the racist (read: extremely annoying) behaviors performed by hipsters.  However, to my beautiful puppy eyes, I think that this term leans towards a dangerous exceptionalism, an idea that somehow “hipster racism” is benign and harmless compared to more “obvious” and "physical" and "systemic" bouts of racism.  Of course, using racial epithets “ironically” is most certainly not the same as lynching.  But the phrase “hipster racism” somehow implies that these instances of oppression are  unrelated to the underlying exertion of power and privilege that moves violent interpersonal and systemic racism.  So, in light of my opinion, I’d rather say something like “Racism exerted by hipsters,” or “Racism, as performed by hipsters.”  It puts the emphasis on the act, and illuminates that racism is racism.

To demonstrate that the impact of racism performed by hipsters is detrimental, regardless of how “down” and “educated” and “progressive” the hipster is, I’m comparing parallel behaviors between hipsters and (mild-to-severe) white supremacists.  This little entry will show us how your level of downness and your (self-serving) good intentions doesn’t make a difference on the impact of racism. 

It may be helpful to define some terms, here.  People cringe at both “hipster” and “white supremacist.” 

Hipster (definition taken from Urbandictionary.com): Hipsters are a subculture of men and women typically in their 20's and 30's that value independent thinking, counter-culture, progressive politics, an appreciation of art and indie-rock, creativity, intelligence, and witty banter.

Here are a couple of pictures/diagrams to help you understand the concept:

Taken from cracked.com

Both pictures taken from astronasty blog

White Supremacist: the belief and promotion of the belief that white people are superior to people of other racial backgrounds.

(note: I am not inserting images...google images for "white supremacist diagram" or "white supremacist cartoon" were a little too intense for my taste.)

Remember, you don’t have to be a skinhead or a neo-nazi or a member of the KKK to be a white supremacist!

1)  Racial/Racist Appropriation

As performed by hipsters:  Wear things that you bought abroad from poor but aggressive black/brown/yellow people and talk about how much culture and happiness these black/brown/yellow people have.   If you live in a neighborhood with [insert community here], make sure they know how much you know and how much you critically adore the culture.  Sit by a black/brown/yellow person on the subway and tell them how much you respect them.  Obviously you do, cuz you’re wearing a tribal-patterned pant/sari/kimono-like dress.

Screenshot from the indie film "Rachel Getting Married"

As performed by (mild-to-severe) white supremacists:  Insist that rock, country and pop were created by white people, and that work songs/spirituals/blues/jazz had absolutely no impact on today’s “white” music. 

Impact of both: The cultures of people of color are appropriated and reduced to the benefit of both hipsters and white supremacists.

2)   Conflating Class and Race

As performed by hipsters:  Pretend that you don’t have any money (well, you don’t have access to your trust fund, YET) and speak endlessly about how you had to eat ramen all week. 

Admit it...you eat cup o noodles because they're delicious, not because you're poor!

 God, living paycheck to paycheck is hard.  And pretend that your experience helps you to understand the plight of people of color.  Ignore the fact that there are poor white people, too, even though you claim to be one.

As performed by (mild-to-severe) white supremacists: Talk about highly-racialized “welfare queens” as though all women of color on welfare are lazy, manipulative and undeserving.  Under your breath, mention how forced sterilization of women of color would help them to lift themselves up by their bootstraps.

 Impact of both: Class and race are uncritically conflated, forcing an unforgiving, inaccurate, and racist essentialized image of POC.  These statements/sentiments benefit the racist person.

3) Mimesis

As performed by hipsters: Change the tonality/timbre of your voice when you’re around people of color.  You’ve lived in Bedstuy for two years – that definitely makes you authentic.  

Wsup, Kreayshawn?

As performed by (mild-to-severe) white supremacists: Change the tonality/timbre of your voice when you’re around people of color.  You know how to talk the unintelligible “ebonics” that you learned on TV.  As you’re mocking people of color to their faces with your essentialized understanding of their culture, imply that they are stupid, uneducated and dirty.  If you’re around an East Asian person, insist that “ching chong ching” means “me love you long time” in the language of Asian.  

Impact of both:  Behavior is mocked/mimicked in insulting, reductive and harmful ways.  Whether your intention is to be authentic and “down”, or to be a racist dickwad, all of this is racist.

4)  Political Correctness

As performed by hipsters: Talk about how being politically correct is so fucked up.  It’s not about political correctness – it’s not about being anti-racist – it’s about being able to make “radical” and “colorblind” connections between people.  So to demonstrate how much you object to the limiting politics of PCness, do something racist and pretend it’s ironic and smart.

I sure as hell can't see the squiggles.

  
As performed by (mild-to-severe) white supremacists:  Talk about how being politically correct is so fucked up.  This is America, after all, and censoring your freedom of speech is not permitted.  So to demonstrate how much you object to the limiting politics of PCness, do something racist, and pretend that you’re just being a smart American.

This is the smartest "map" I've ever seen.

Impact of both:  Using one’s hatred towards political correctness (whatever the reason may be) to justify your racism is absurd and racist.

5)  Counter-Cultural Capital

As performed by hipsters: Try to accumulate as much counter-cultural capital as you can. Make up stories about how you’ve been arrested countless times for being a rambunctious, socially conscious young person.  Make up stories about how you ended up on or under the poverty line (psst…make sure you leave out the fact that you have a trust fund…).  Do research on your ancestry and talk about how the Irish were the blacks of the first wave of immigration to the U.S.  When you accumulate enough, justify your racist comments with a defensive, “I KNOW WHAT OPPRESSION FEELS LIKE!”

As performed by (mild-to-severe) white supremacists:  Convince yourself that white people are the ones who have it hardest these days.  God, affirmative action is so unfair!  You perceive that employers/schools give preferential option to poor people of color when, in fact, YOU are the one who is being discriminated against, and YOU are the one who deserves to get rewarded.  Be sure to always tell someone that they’re being racist against you and all white people when someone mispronounces your boring name. "OOOOOH it's 'Bob' and not 'BOOB?'  My apologies."

Taken from "conservativecartoons.com"

Impact of both:  Who WANTS counter-cultural capital?  People with privilege, because somehow you interpret the existence of CCC with disdain if you cannot have it, as well.  Entitlement?  Yes.  Your privilege and entitlement leads you to pretend that you have it bad, therefore you get to say/do/act however you want, even if it’s racist.

Speaking of oppression...


It's really fucking hot.  I am wearing a double-coat of fur and I want to kill something.  But it's too hot to kill anything.  So I'm just going to lazily plot myself on the couch (which I now know I can dominate, even though my parents keep pushing me off and have been trying to train me to stay on the floor) and refuse to walk, pee or poop outside.  


Love,
Big Paws McGee

Yellow Peril Parenting

Dear World:

I’ve been a little pain in the ass to my new parents lately.  I’m not sure yet if I’m doing it on purpose or if I’m biting, peeing all over the place when excited, and running at warp speed because I’m just a puppy.  In any case, I know that Yejin and Nico are feeling it in their legs, their arms, their patience, their sanity, etc. 

But I'm an ANGEL!

Anyways, watching them use different strategies with me after reading books on dog training has been interesting.  They have tried ignoring me when I’m particularly hyper.  They’ve tried yelping loudly when I bite them too hard.  They’ve tried the booming “NO” when I get a hold of their sock (and a little bit of their toes).  They've tried techniques used by the Dog Whisperer (see below).

I AM BOSS!

The most peculiar thing about their parenting stylescome out when we’re on walks and strangers either touch me without asking permission or let their aggressive dogs come running to “play” with me.  My dad just picks me up, has a really brief  conversation with the person, and then calmly moves on.  It may be perceived as rude, but I like it just fine.  My mom, however, keeps me on the ground, DARES the person and/or dog to approach, and then asks questions like, “when was your dog last vaccinated?” and “do you often touch things that aren’t yours without asking permission?”  This usually turns into a pleasant conversation, but I think it’s hilarious that she starts off the exchange with accusatory, biting and maternal questions.   Oh, parenting.

And last night my mom started watching youtube videos of people training their Shiba puppies.  There was one video where a 7-week old pup was doing things like sitting, laying down, high-fiving, and rolling over.  I saw a glimpse of crazy in her eyes as she became fiercely jealous that this young puppy was so obedient.  Immediately, she began reviewing the different puppy kindergarten classes she had researched.  She spoke softly to Nico about when to start training me, that maybe they should enroll me in agility classes, as well.  I, of course, didn’t give a shit.  But it was funny to watch her frenetic research.

See YouTube videos:

Typical.  Mom was marked as an “overachiever,” and, of course, the “model minority” growing up. To better understand this term, see cartoon below:

© 2008 Neal Yamamoto

Though this is not the right venue to talk about the politics of "model minorities" and the way in which this narrative supports supposed hierarchies of power/privilege, acknowledging this is important in understanding who she is.  Mom's parents pushed her beyond her limits like it was their day job.  Actually, it WAS their day job.  She had the privilege of having a mom who was able to stay home with her and her brother to make sure that she did all her homework, enrolled in all the right classes, had the “perfect” (read: overwhelming) amount of extra-curricular activities, demonstrated leadership in school, etc.  She competed in many piano and voice competitions.  Not a lot of time for friends, of which she had few.  Mom never complained though, and now is extremely appreciative of the tremendous support her mother demonstrated.  A couple of weeks before Yejin’s mom passed away, she said, “my greatest fear is that I did not help you see how wonderful you are, and how wonderful you can be.” 

Parenting.  Damn.

It’s complicated.  And I know, I KNOW I’m super late to the whole “Tiger Mom,” East vs. West parenting philosophy explosion, but I will talk about things when I want to talk about them!  So here it is: Mandu’s thoughts on Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother: This is a story about a mother, two daughters, and two dogs.  This was supposed to be a story of how Chinese parents are better at raising their kids than Western ones.  But instead, it’s about a bitter clash of cultures, a fleeting taste of glory, and how I was humbled by a thirteen-year-old.

There are already some great critiques of this book/philosophy from the eyes of Asian-Americans who have personally experienced the wrath/love of a Tiger Mother.  It is certainly important to acknowledge the ways in which this parenting philosophy can and does impact the emotional/psychological/physical health of children.  There are great critiques that showcase how this book may perpetuate the idea of East Asian/Asian-American Exceptionalism, especially in face of other people of color.  The point of my blog post is not to address these particular issues, but to give my puppy perspective on why the broader, less clever critiques of the book (and the philosophy) are annoying.

Argument #1:  Tiger Mother supports and perpetuates emotional/psychological/physical abuse that should not be tolerated in the United States.

First of all, most of the people who are/were spouting these heavy words are not people who have experienced this type of parenting model.  Many of them are mothers who have used very different strategies with their children who may feel invalidated by the  book’s ideas.  Please do not speak of people or experiences that are not your own.  People have their own voices. 

Secondly, emotional/psychological/physical abuse should not be tolerated anywhere.  Please do not imply that abuse exists more in other countries than it does in the U.S. – that is invalidating and untrue.  Thirdly, people (and puppies!) should be able to identify for themselves whether something is abusive.  There aren’t necessarily behaviors that can be universally blanketed as abusive.  For instance, my mom experienced corporeal punishment up the wazoo.  Her mother had rulers in almost every drawer in the house just in case her grades were bad, she talked back, she lied about something, she didn’t practice piano as long as she was supposed to, etc.  She did/does NOT consider this abusive.  Other people may, but other folks can keep their thoughts to themselves.  This is not to say that other people who experienced similar punitive measures do not experience this as abusive. 

Lesson: Don't label, name and pathologize things for other people. 

Argument #2:  Tiger Mother implies that you cannot be a good parent if you do not punish your kids, scare them into submission, and act as an evil, bitch-mother.

My mother’s mom punished her kids, but did not scare them into submission, and certainly was not an evil, bitch-mother.  Amy Chua wrote a highly personalized (and selectively satirical) memoir about her experience as a mother and was not really telling every mother out there to call her children “garbage” or emotionally coerce children to play very difficult piano pieces.  She wrote that these strategies worked for her daughter since her daughter was so pleased and was “beaming” when she had finally succeeded.  So she is not saying that punish kids à successful kids.  The false negative of this statement is, do not punish kids à do not have successful kids, which is the argument these people are making.  So a false negative based on an argument that wasn’t even made is pretty much doubly invalid.  BOOYAH!

Lesson: With or without punishment, you can be a good parent.  But how funny are dunce caps??

SHAME!

Argument #3:  I AM NOT A HORRIBLE MOTHER!  CHUA IS SAYING I’M A HORRIBLE MOTHER!

 I cannot speak to this.  You’ll have to ask your kids about whether or not you're  failure.

Chua had an interview with Jezebel (one of my favorite blogs) and insightfully explained why this book has caused so much uproar.  She stated, “We parents, including me, are all so anxious about whether we’re doing the right thing.  You can never know the results.  It’s this latent anxiety.”   Click here for full article.

 No one wants to be told that they have completely or partially fucked their kid (or puppy) up, whether the fucked-up-ness came from being too strict/harsh or being too laissez-faire.  But, people, don’t let your own anxieties lead you to make assumptions/determinations about other cultures.  This is not a competition of which culture will prevail or which is superior (I’m pretty sure the trajectory of these arguments are majorly frowned upon). 

Lesson: people fear the Yellow Peril.

The many faces of the Yellow Peril:

Oops...how did THIS one get here?!  Too political?

Argument #4:  Honestly, WESTERN approaches to parenting are much better.  I mean, WE are the leaders of the world.

MMMMM…what is a “Western” approach, anyway?  This dichotomy that people create and perpetuate between the West and the East is reductionist and simplistic.  Chua is guilty of doing this, too.  Um, I’m pretty sure there are millions of Asian Pacific Islanders in the West, and I’m pretty sure that ideas that people identify as “Western” are not bound by borders of constructed nation-states.  Being cognizant of social norms, navigating the distinction between self and group…since when has the West had a monopoly over these things?  This is just so dumb.

Also, check yourself on the whole “leaders of the world thing.”  Again, you just say that as a preemptively reactionary response to your fear of the Yellow Peril.  MUAHAHA.

Lesson: This is what would happen if Tiger Mothers take over the world:

Tiger Mother eats her young AND the whole world.

SUMMARY: 

Everyone:  Please stop having a culture/philosophy competition.  Universalities that come from this type of competition are usually useless and only serve the purpose of feeling culturally superior.  Which is scary. 

Also, I think people are just mad that East Asian moms get to be tigers.  I mean, look at how badass they are!

Uh oh.  I think mom is about to buy a clicker.  I DO NOT WANT TO BE CLICKER TRAINED!!!  If mom tries to get me to become an overachieving model-minority, I’m going to rebel.  Maybe I’ll drop out of AP puppy kindergarten, listen to absolutely nothing she says and start an indie rock band.  I’ll probably play the guitar, like my dad. 

Just so you know, World…I also fear the Yellow Peril (a.k.a YEJIN).

I'm OUT. 

Love and Rage,

Triple M (Mandu, the Model Minority)

Vanity: Adorable Pictures of Yours Truly

Dear World:

My dad took me on this fabulous walk the other day, and there was this strange looking vehicle that people seem to call a "party bus" parked by the curb.  I didn't find it particularly fascinating, not until I saw that there was a mirror on one of the doors.  Folks, I saw myself.  I REALLY saw myself.  Not in one of those profound, inner-beauty-soul-searching kind of ways.  I mean, I am HOT.  And to tell you the truth, since I'm such a humble being, I was not expecting to look so wonderfully beautiful.  God, I'm just the greatest.


(Just for your reference...Vanity is defined as "excessive pride in or admiration of one's own appearance or achievements."  But how does one measure whether pride is in the excess?  What if I truly deserve to be so proud?)

Anyways, I thought I would grace all of your eyes with pictures of myself. 

Aren't I just so dainty?  Look at the placement of my front paws -it's almost as though
I'm sitting on a horse the way a proper lady should.  When I sit like this, I like to use "she,"
"her," "them" or "theirs" as my pronouns.  Thank you.

As much as I make fun of my mom for overdoing it with the Hipstamatic App, I do love
these pictures of me that look "gritty."  Tyra would totally call this "ugly beautiful."
When you're this amazing looking, grit serves as an ironic lens.  Am I using "ironic" correctly?

People often ask me if I'm a fox.  I always respond (in my head, of course), "have you ever
even seen a picture of a fox?  I look like a dog.  Not a fox."  But then I see a picture
like this and some of the nonsense is forgiven.

I just wanted you all to see how fluffy my coat is these days.  Mom and dad gave me a
horrible thing called a "bath" the other day, but now I'm minimally grateful. 
I like being soft and clean.

Mom, the photographer, told me to "look away from the camera, pensive about something
profound." Have I pulled it off?  Don't make me laugh.  This picture is dripping with
intense and beautiful profundity. 

Gosh, I'm so embarassed that mom took a picture of me sleeping... I haven't even
fixed my face for this particular photoshoot!  Oh well, the "au nautrale" look
works relatively well for me.  I mean, I clearly own elegance and grace
like it's my dayjob, so I don't even have to prepare anything to
look amazing.

How did this one get in here?  Ugh, mom took an action shot of me stretching
after my long nap. 

Sometimes a proper background is what makes or breaks a photoshoot,
wouldn't you say?  We didn't need to be in Dumbo with all the "special"
scaffolding and the "cobble" stones.  All we needed was dad's enormous
slipper.

Damn, I really worked that slipper.  It doubled as a prop AND
as a pillow. 

Like most animals, I enjoy sleeping in a sun-kissed room.  Unlike most
animals, I look gorgeous while doing it. 

Beautiful monorail.  I can be super flat!

Yea,  mom's not looking so great, but I would like for you
to check out the adorable rolls I have on my  neck.  I know that people
are upset by the presence of rolls on their body, but I find
that I'm (insanely) beautiful because I find validation
in my own ego.  Also, I think every shape, size and color is
beautiful. 

World, I know you think I'm a bit ridiculous, what with my ego, pride, and mild narcissism.  But to tell you the truth, I think everyone should be able to love themselves with intensity.  Society and its narrow, profitable rules for what beauty can and cannot be can suck it. 


Maybe I will write a guide on ignoring/schooling society and on loving your body. 


Love, and even more LOVE,
Mandu

On Communication

Dear World:

People keep asking me, "Mandu - Why do you keep biting my hand/leg/foot/toe/forearm/nose/cheek?" Well, my dear, that's just how I express myself. I swear, I'm not trying to be a dick. On the internet I'm magically able to articulate myself through words and sarcasm, but, as you might imagine, I'm not able to do this vis-a-vis. I often wish I had that fantastical collar that Dug wears in the movie Up! Do you know how much easier my life would be if you just fucking understood what I was trying to say?

You may not be able to understand or read my biting expressions, but I am definitely intentional and thoughtful about what I do with my mouth. But, of course, as Derrida points out (yes, Jackie D and I are besties), meaning is never fixed in a way that allows us to effectively determine it. My intention does not determine the meaning of what I'm communicating. I get it - language is a complex social construct that existed prior to any of us using it, and in order to use it we need to understand its web of meanings in order to communicate with others. But why on earth do I have to understand YOUR ridiculously complex series of sounds and the meanings behind them? Why do you get all pissy when I have no idea what you're talking about? Honestly, all I can comprehend is whether you're excited or bored. Everything else sounds like the adults talking in Charlie Brown movies. Wompwompwompwomp...like that.

Anywho, my man Jackie D says that by privileging speech, we are closing off a whole "semantic domain that precisely does not limit itself to semantics, semiotics and even less to linguistics." Damn straight. So here's my proposal: set aside your hegemonic semantics, semiotics, and delve into the life of biting as a form of transmitting meaning. See picture of me communicating, "Bitch, I wanna play!" below:

I look ghoulish in this photo.  Please forgive my mom for incessantly using the
HipstamitcApp on her iphone, thinking it makes her "artistic."

What Humans Would Look Like If They Communicated Through Biting Instead of Talking:

1) "I am hungry"
Prance over to the fridge, and since you’re able to open the door with your weirdly shaped paws, venture inside and start sniffing the contents.  Hmm…old Chinese take-out?  How old?  Oh, too old.  Moldy block of cheese?  Is this blue cheese?  Nope, it’s cheddar…damn.  Is that all you have in your fridge?  Oh dear…you are hungry and you want to eat now.  Start whimpering.  Stuff your whole face into the fridge, deeply investigating each shelf to just make sure that you don’t have an edible meal in there.  Get your face caught between the metal inserts.  That’s fine, because now you have access to some goodies that spilled over.  Lick profusely.  You can no longer control yourself.  Bite, gnaw and lick SO hard that the fridge tips over. Run away, frightened. 

Walk to nearest restaurant to get some take out at your local Boston Market.  Your eyes become alert from the delicious smells.  Jump over the counter and attack rotisserie chickens.  When the cashier brings the manager over, growl severely and protect that juicy treat.

Mmmm...delicious chicken...

Take a big poo and then go to sleep.


2) "I am scared"
It’s 10pm, it’s a dark and stormy night, and you just indulged in a mini-marathon consisting of Criminal Minds and Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.  (You likely identify most with Dr. Reid and Detective Benson because you're beautiful, smart AND fiesty.)

Though you’re convinced that you are now an expert detective, a badass fighter, and a forensic psychologist who can identify serial killers, you are too far down the rabbit hole of paranoia to feel good about your newly aqcuired "skills".  Every sound you hear terrifies you.  Tentatively walk through the apartment, as though you’re hunting.  Appear this way to convince yourself and the potential intruder that you’re not actually terrified—actually, you are like a lioness on the lookout for a delicious, raw, fleshy meal.  You’re even scarier than whatever ghost/demon/serial killer is lurking in your home.  Bear your teeth, start growling to let your intruder know that someone is in the house and that they best not fuck with you.  Slowly fall asleep by the door, armed with your sharp teeth, alert mind, and TV-detective training.  Someone walks through the door.  ATTACK IMMEDIATELY WITH SHARP TEETH!  DRAW BLOOD!  SHAKE WHATEVER IS IN YOUR MOUTH AS THOUGH YOU’RE BREAKING ITS NECK.

Oh.  It’s your partner.  And how their arms and legs are completely mangled.  Whoops.  That’ll teach them to scare you.  They KNOW you have these marathons every Sunday evening.

3) "I am horny"
You just watched a steamy romance/thriller starring [insert the person of your naughty dreams].  Strange, tingly sensations are stirring.  Frantically look around you.  Is there anything to dry hump?  Ugh, but dry humping is so unsatisfying.  Start looking for people to bang in your house (you live alone, but you don't remember that...raging hormones mar logic and sanity, just so you know).  Sniff, bite, dry-hump.  Sniff, bit, dry-hump. 
It’s not enough. 

Run outside with your ears tucked back and your tail wildly wagging.  Alternate between sniffing butts and testing the waters through gentle à aggressive biting.  Bite people’s necks, butt, stomachs.  Find consenting partner.  Mount.  Dismount.  See picture below for instrunctions on propert dismounting form:

Shake your head because now that you communicate through biting, you always cause too many sex-related injuries.

4) "I am pissed"
You are walking down the street on an absolutely gorgeous day.  You know you’re beautiful because, hey, everyone is (and deserves to feel) beautiful, so your walk (pleasantly) reeks of confidence and happiness.  Suddenly, an unsuspecting hand comes to touch you.  Who the—??

Think to yourself, “Dude, haven’t you heard of CONSENT?  Consent is sexy!”  That hand does not deserve mercy, so immediately turn your head around with your teeth bearing.  You sharpen your canines for this very reason.  If said hand doesn’t leave, viciously attack with your face and mouth. 

When this rude/awful person becomes angry by your response and spouts ridiculous phrases, like “you were asking for it” and “don’t dress like a [insert oppressive word here],” jump up on them and bite areas that hurt more.  When they start walking away from you, but you can still feel their indignant entitlement, bite their ankles as they walk.  That’ll show them.

5) "I am bored"
It’s a Friday  night and you were hoping to go party/bar hopping but your partner wants to stay in and watch a mini-marathon of Downton Abbey.  You love your partner, so you stay home with them.  After falling in and out of love with Maggie Smith about forty times in the span of two hours, you start becoming antsy. 

"What is a weekend?"

Start running around the couch over and over again until your partner peels their eyes of the TV screen.  When they finally stretch out their hand to give you affection, lightly bite them to see if they’re down to play.  They take their hand away, annoyed that you are biting.  Frown.  Frown some more.  Maybe bark.  Run around in crazy circles again, hitting everything you can like you’re living in a pinball machine.  When your partner screams, “HEY!” loudly to get you to stop, bark, jump on their face and lightly nibble again.  They roll their eyes and ignore you.  You.  Hate.  That.  Find partner’s favorite things in the apartment (like their guitar or their iphone) and chew the SHIT out of it.  Look up from broken item and wag your butt.

6)  “I am happy”
You just went on a long walk in the park and got to hang out with new and wonderful people.  You are surrounded by people who love you.  Everything is just pretty fucking great.  Your partner sits next to you as you quietly enjoy people/bird-watching from your apartment.  Gently take a finger and lovingly nibble.  Nibble a little harder, to show just HOW happy you are.  Bark, with a smile on your face, and lick your partner’s face.

So, you may think that I'm just a mouthy pup, but clearly I am articulating millions of things to you that you are just too silly to understand.

Hmph!

So, if I may, I will continue destroying everything with my crazy sharp baby teeth. 


Love and Rage,
Mandu, the Mouthy Master