Cyntoia Brown in the Independent Lens documentary, Me Facing Life: Cyntoia’s Story.
In what’s become an annual tradition, Haikus with Hotties has released its 2018 calendar full of–you guessed it–hotties.
The calendar, created by writer Ada Tseng and features good-looking Asian dudes from all sectors of the media industry, is meant both as a play on the “beefcake” calendar as well as an important socio-political statement.
“Haikus With Hotties is a calendar series that highlights the attractive and talented Asian men in media that often don’t get as much attention as they deserve,” states the Haikus with Hotties website.
The lack of attention stems from stereotypes Asian men are still dogged by, such as being nerdy, feminine, and goofy, much like Long Duk Dong from Sixteen Candles. (The “Long Duk Dong effect” was also tackled in a 2016 episode of Fresh off the Boat, in which Randall Park’s Louis Huang is afraid that he’s doing the Chinese equivalent of “cooning” as the recurring guest of a local news show.) But the stereotypes inherent in Long Duk Dong stem from decades of racist propaganda created by the U.S. from the 1800s onwards to create fear about Asian immigrants. The same stereotypes were used in World War II propaganda to keep America focused on defeating the Axis Powers, which included Japan. Between the 1800s to the 1940s, and certainly in the years after the war ended, these stereotypes have become part of the problem that keeps America from reaching its full potential as a democracy.
Those stereotypes once again became the subject of current events in January 2017, when Steve Harvey made a series of offensive jokes about Asian men and their supposed unattractiveness. To combat the stereotypes, Haikus with Hotties gifted Harvey a calendar.
Steve Harvey found his rant against Asian men really funny. The internet did not. pic.twitter.com/hpuemv4UCE
— AJ+ (@ajplus) January 16, 2017
If you still don’t get what’s being written here, just take a look at the Breakfast at Tiffany‘s character Mr. Yunioshi (Mickey Rooney), an older version of the same stereotypes Long Duk Dong represents (and yellowface on top of it), in comparison to actor/model Godfrey Gao in the summer 2015 issue of Harper’s Bazaar Men Thailand.
See how ridiculous these stereotypes are?
South Asian men also suffer from the same stereotypes, but now those stereotypes are also laced with Islamophobia. Still, the reality outweighs the stereotypes once you open your eyes to the truth. Take for instance another ’80s character, Short Circuit’s Ben Jabituya (Fisher Stevens), yet another role in which a white man is portraying an ethnic character, coupled with an extreme accent and gestures, and Dev Patel–who should be starring in tons of romantic comedies right now–from InStyle Magazine’s 2016 Oscar coverage for Lion.
Again, the reality outweighs the stereotype.
With that said, check out some of the images from the new 2018 calendar. This year, Iron Fist fan favorite and new Into the Badlands cast member Lewis Tan is featured, as well as Kim’s Convenience star Simu Liu, queer/trans comedian, actor and writer and D’Lo, and Pretty Dudes star Yoshi Sudarso (pictured below with his brother, Power Rangers Hyperforce actor Peter Sudarso), among many more.
Want to see the rest? Check out Haikus with Hotties’ website and order your 2018 calendar!
Need some Christmas present ideas? Thanks to Shop + Hire PR, you can get some gift-giving out of the way while helping Puerto Rico continue to heal from the effects of Hurricane Maria.
Shop + Hire PR is an initiative created by nonprofit Colmena66 to help the businesses of Puerto Rico get back on their feet. Colmena66 head Denise Rodríguez told NBC News that the diaspora–Puerto Ricans who live off the island and on the mainland–were calling and texting to know how they could help.
“They actually asked how we can shop local entrepreneurs online,” she said.
Shop + Hire PR has more than just apparel stores–there are companies that sell food, candles and home goods, jewelry, and there are also freelancers and small businesses that specialize in copywriting, consulting, video production, marketing, photography, web design, industrial design, events, and more.
I took a look at some of the apparel stores and came back with some cool items, most of them centering around a very personal theme for me–the early ’90s, pastel aesthetic that not only defined my childhood and early memories of South Florida (where I was born and lived for the first year of my life before my family moved back to Alabama, as well as the place of many family vacations), but has gone on to define much of the designs I use in my web presence. When I ran my first site, Moniqueblog, during the early-to-mid ’00s, I kept a pastel pink-and-blue theme:
And even now, I have pink and blue as part of JUST ADD COLOR’s scheme, albeit more neon. Those two colors–plus the entire late ’80s art deco aesthetic that’s present throughout Miami–seem to sum up the feeling of South Florida in a nutshell; it’s tropical, it’s beachy, it’s laid back (to an extent–let’s not get me started on how Miami can be too crunk at times), and every day is summer. Even when you’re depressed (like I was when I lived in Miami for three years recently), you’ll still find something uplifting in seeing the sun on a daily basis and having the ocean just a few miles (or, since I lived by Biscayne Bay, mere steps) away.
With that said, let’s get to the finds.
The perfect pastel shirt
apparel brand Luca has many upscale pieces, including this pastel plaid shirt. The “Just Love” shirt has all of my favorite pastel colors in it, and the cut of it looks just right for a shirt that can be dressed up and dressed down.
Saved by the Bell in earring form
It’s too bad I don’t have pierced ears, or I’d totally buy these earrings without hesitation. These earrings are part of the “Peaches and Cream” collection at Aguja Local, which sells clothing as well as awesome jewelry like these. These polymer clay earrings feature the classic early ’90s squiggles that shows like Saved by the Bell are known for. Coupled with the pastel purples, pinks, peaches and blues, these earrings are tailor made for those of us who love living in that cool, colorful aesthetic.
Artist Allison Holdridge has tons of amazing prints featuring the icons of the tropics, the palm tree. This particular print, “Atomic Palm,” speaks the most to me thanks to its conjuction of bold brights and soft pastels. Combined with the graphic treatment of the palm frond itself, this print makes a declarative statement about paradise on earth.
What cool things have you found thanks to Shop + Hire PR? Let me know in the comments section!
In movies and television, some of the most recognizable gay characters have been portrayed as effeminate or weak; they’re “fashionistas” or “gay best friends.” Street gang members, on the other hand, are often depicted as hypermasculine, heterosexual and tough.
This obvious contradiction was one of the main reasons I was drawn to the subject of gay gang members.
For my new book “The Gang’s All Queer,” I interviewed and spent time with 48 gay or bisexual male gang members. All were between the ages of 18 and 28; the majority were men of color; and all lived in or near Columbus, Ohio, which has been referred to as a “Midwestern gay mecca.”
The experience, which took place over the course of more than two years, allowed me to explore the tensions they felt between gang life and gay manhood.
Some of the gang members were in gangs made up of primarily gay, lesbian or bisexual people. Others were the only gay man (or one of a few) in an otherwise “straight” gang. Then there were what I call “hybrid” gangs, which featured a mix of straight, gay, lesbian and bisexual members, but with straight people still in the majority. Most of these gangs were primarily male.
Because even the idea of a gay man being in a gang flies in the face of conventional thought, the gang members I spoke with had to constantly resist or subvert a range of stereotypes and expectations.
Getting in by being out
How could I – a white, middle-class woman with no prior gang involvement – gain access to these gangs in the first place?
It helped that the initial group of men whom I spoke to knew me from years earlier, when we became friends at a drop-in center for LGBTQ youth. They vouched for me to their friends. I was openly gay – part of the “family,” as some of them put it – and because I was a student conducting research for a book, they were confident that I stood a better chance of accurately representing them than any “straight novelist” or journalist.
But I also suspect that my own masculine presentation allowed them to feel more at ease; I speak directly, have very short hair and usually leave the house in plaid, slacks and Adidas shoes.
While my race and gender did make for some awkward interactions (some folks we encountered assumed I was a police officer or a business owner), with time I gained their trust, started getting introduced to more members and began to learn about how each type of gang presented its own set of challenges.
Pressure to act the part
The gay men in straight gangs I spoke with knew precisely what was expected of them: be willing to fight with rival gangs, demonstrate toughness, date or have sex with women and be financially independent.
Being effeminate was a nonstarter; they were all careful to present a uniformly masculine persona, lest they lose status and respect. Likewise, coming out was a huge risk. Being openly gay could threaten their status as well as their safety. Only a handful of them came out to their traditional gangs, and this sometimes resulted in serious consequences, such as being “bled out” of the gang (forced out through a fight).
Despite the dangers, some wanted to come out. But a number of fears held them back. Would their fellow gang members start to distrust them? What if the other members got preoccupied about being sexually approached? Would the status of the gang be compromised, with other gangs seeing them as “soft” for having openly gay guys in it?
So most stayed in the closet, continuing to project heterosexuality, while discreetly meeting other gay men in underground gay scenes or over the internet.
As one man told me, he was glad cellphones had been invented because he could keep his private sexual life with men just that: private.
One particularly striking story came from a member of a straight gang who made a date for sex over the internet, only to discover that it was two fellow gang members who had arranged the date with him. He hadn’t known the others were gay, and they didn’t know about him, either.
In “hybrid” gangs (those with a sizable minority of gay, lesbian or bisexual people) or all-gay gangs, the men I interviewed were held to many of the same standards. But they had more flexibility.
In the hybrid gangs, members felt far more comfortable coming out than those in purely straight gangs. In their words, they were able to be “the real me.”
Men in gay gangs were expected to be able to build a public reputation as a gay man – what they called becoming “known.” Being “known” means you’re able to achieve many masculine ideals – making money, being taken seriously, gaining status, looking good – but as an openly gay man.
It was also more acceptable for them to project femininity, whether it was making flamboyant gestures, using effeminate mannerisms, or wearing certain styles of clothing, like skinny jeans.
They were still in a gang. This meant they needed to clash with rival gay crews, so they valued toughness and fighting prowess.
Men in gay gangs especially expressed genuine and heartfelt connections to their fellow gang members. They didn’t just think of them as associates. These were their friends, their chosen families – their pillars of emotional support.
But sometimes these gang members would vacillate about certain expectations.
They questioned if being tough or eager to fight constituted what it should mean to be a man. Although they viewed these norms with a critical eye, across the board they tended to prefer having “masculine” men as sexual partners or friends. Some would also patrol each other’s masculinity, insulting other gay men who were flamboyant or feminine.
Caught between not wanting themselves or others to be pressured to act masculine all the time, but also not wanting to be read as visibly gay or weak (which could invite challenges), resistance to being seen as a “punk” or a pushover was critical.
It all seemed to come from a desire to upend damaging cultural stereotypes of gay men as weak, of black men as “deadbeats” and offenders, and of gang members as violent thugs.
But this created its own tricky terrain. In order to not be financial deadbeats, they resorted to sometimes selling drugs or sex; in order to not be seen as weak, they sometimes fought back, perhaps getting hurt in the process. Their social worlds and definitions of acceptable identity were constantly changing and being challenged.
One of the most compelling findings of my study was what happened when these gay gang members were derisively called “fag” or “faggot” by straight men in bars, on buses, in schools or on the streets. Many responded with their fists.
Some fought back even if they weren’t openly gay. Sure, the slur was explicitly meant to attack their masculinity and sexuality in ways they didn’t appreciate. But it was important to them to be able to construct an identity as a man who wasn’t going to be messed with – a man who also happened to be gay.
Their responses were revealing: “I will fight you like I’m straight”; “I’m gonna show you what this faggot can do.” They were also willing to defend others derided as “fags” in public, even though this could signal that they were gay themselves.
These comebacks challenge many of the assumptions made about gay men – that they lack nerve, that they’re unwilling to physically fight.
It also communicated a belief that was clearly nonnegotiable: a fundamental right to not be bothered simply for being gay.
“I am getting this wonderful education. I have a job. I fit in. At the same time, I feel at any moment that can change. I don’t think that most Americans live with that thought that anything can change [in] just one minute… My biggest fear is me getting deported or DACA being terminated and I go back to being here illegally.” –“Leticia”
“Leticia,” a pseudonym, is now 21. She came to the U.S. from Mexico at the age of eight. She is just one of the many undocumented young adults we have met in the course of our research.
With President Donald Trump’s reversal of an Obama-era executive order known as Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA), Leticia’s worst fears seem to be coming true. It is now up to Congress to pass legislation that would grant “Dreamers” legal status. In the meantime, these youths’ dreams and aspirations are once again stalled, with another deadline and six more months of uncertainty, and thus, fear and anxiety.
Together, we have been researching the lives of immigrants for 26 years. Up until 2012, undocumented youth like Leticia found themselves with few options for making their aspirations a reality as they became adults.
This changed with DACA. The program granted certain undocumented youth temporary reprieve from deportation that could be renewed every two years, and identity papers such as driver’s licenses and social security cards. This gave recipients the ability to legally apply for a job or admission into institutions of higher education.
Since DACA passed, youth like Leticia have been able to further their education and obtain jobs and health insurance along with being granted many other rights. Our research demonstrates that DACA has enabled youth and young adults not just to work toward building their own futures, but also to find peace of mind – something that, until then, was unfamiliar to them.
Personal trauma and emotional well-being
Participants in our studies commonly discussed chronic feelings of sadness and worry. Their mental health statuses were precarious prior to DACA. Most did not know they were undocumented until a caregiver told them, usually in late adolescence. To them, finding out about their undocumented status proved to be a source of personal trauma. Their status disrupted their dreams and eroded the trust they had placed in their families, friends and social institutions.
Some participants admitted that, prior to DACA, they had thought about suicide. Feeling hopelessness because of their undocumented status, a few had harmed themselves or even attempted suicide. According to news reports, at least one young Dreamer ended his own life as a result of this anguish.
We found that one way that undocumented youth coped with feelings of isolation was to join immigrant organizations and to volunteer in immigrant advocacy activities. The social connections they developed in these groups fostered relationships that supported them in times of despair.
Then, DACA brought relief and improved their mental health. These youth shared with us that they were more motivated and happy after Obama’s executive order. As Kate, one of our participants, told us, DACA “has gone a long way to give me some sense of security and stability that I haven’t had in a very long time.” Even with DACA, these youth maintained their involvement in organizations to help “give back” to their communities.
Almost 800,000 youth trusted the government with their “fingerprints” and other personal information when they applied for DACA. In return, the two-year reprieve from deportation lifted the constant, everyday fear of existence that characterized their lives. These mental health gains, in addition to the fruits of all of their hard work over the past five years, are now threatened.
The road ahead
These young adults are thoroughly vetted and are either well on their way to or already contributing in significant ways to their communities and the country. Alonso Guillen, to cite just one recent example, lost his life while rescuing victims of Hurricane Harvey. Many have contributed to the U.S. economy – 5.5 percent of DACA recipients have started their own businesses and 87 percent are employed.
With the demise of DACA, these youth may feel that the trust they placed in government has been betrayed. In our research, before Donald Trump was a presidential candidate, we often heard participants expressing fear that DACA may be temporary – but it was always hypothetical. One of our participants, “Mariposa,” said she was “on the list,” and worried that the U.S. government would know exactly where to find her if DACA should end.
If our research and the history of social activism of Dreamers tells us one thing, it is that these youth are resilient. The U.S. is their home, the only place they consider home, and where they want to stay and contribute.
Our work shows that being part of organizations that support immigrants is crucial to promoting a sense of social and emotional well-being. These organizations, at least, may continue to provide spaces where youth can come together and feel like they belong. Meanwhile, Dreamers can only hope Congress can find a solution that will help them trust once again in America’s institutions.
When someone is sick or needs the help of a physician, who should decide what is appropriate – what blood tests and imaging studies to order, what medicines to prescribe, what surgeries to perform? Should it be the doctor, the patient or some combination of the two? Most people nowadays (even most physicians) support what is called ‘shared decision-making’, in which the doctor and patient (and often her family or friends) discuss the situation and come up with a joint plan. The doctor’s role is that of experienced guide, whose medical knowledge, skill and expertise help to shape the conversation and whose understanding of the priorities, values and goals of the patients steers the plan in a given direction to the satisfaction of all.
Unfortunately, in the real world, things don’t always work this way. Doctors and patients have a number of masters, both welcomed and uninvited. Insurance companies or other third-party payers often intrude into the decision-making process, limiting the choices of what services and products might be available: a sick patient often must wait for pre-authorisation for expensive diagnostic tests and procedures; pharmacy formularies restrict the kinds of drugs available for prescriptions, and so on. Furthermore, some doctors have personal interests in the interventions they recommend. Many surgeons make more money if they do more surgery, cardiologists earn more if they put in more cardiac stents and pacemakers, and drug companies have better profits if they sell drugs for chronic conditions that never get better and require lifelong medication (such as high cholesterol, hypertension and diabetes). Such practices contribute to the seeming inexorable rise in healthcare costs (and a host of adverse outcomes) in the United States.
Yet controlling cost without sacrificing quality has been a daunting task. One strategy might be to pay more attention to what patients need, and less to what they want, assuming that the two don’t overlap. Another is limiting the excess of doctors who prescribe because of conflicts of interest or acts of ‘defensive medicine’ – in other words, to protect themselves from lawsuits, not aid the patient.
How does one go about rationing care? Will faceless bureaucrats be denying granny her medication or access to an intensive-care unit solely because she’s old, or saying that Billy can’t get his conditions treated because he is disabled? Indeed, dread of rationing – as well as a healthy dose of old-fashioned fear-mongering by crafty politicians – is what inspired the meme of ‘death panels’, an unfounded canard based upon a misinterpretation of a proposed federal rule for Medicare. Nevertheless, the concept of rationing is still of concern because it implies restriction of a resource that could be beneficial.
Therefore, rationing doesn’t apply to interventions that can’t help anyone at any time – for instance, antibacterial antibiotics that won’t work because the patient has a viral infection. A better example of true rationing is the allocation of organs – such as livers, hearts and lungs – for transplantation. Organ transplantation requires rationing because the supply never keeps up with demand. We also ration drugs that can suddenly become scarce (a distressingly common problem).
But there are other forms of rationing that are problematic, too. The most common one, intrinsic to the US healthcare system, involves limiting the kind and amount of healthcare one can obtain based on one’s financial situation. Poorer people get less and worse healthcare than wealthy people. While the most offensive aspects of this arrangement have been mitigated to some extent in those states that expanded Medicaid under the auspices of the Affordable Care Act, there are still alarming numbers of Americans who have limited access to effective medical care. This is one of the chief reasons why the US population as a whole doesn’t get as much bang per buck as citizens of many other nations, and this form of rationing is blatantly unfair.
But there is another form of rationing that is more insidious still. This is the so-called bedside rationing, in which doctors decide, on an individual per-patient basis, what should be available to them, regardless of the range of services that their insurance or finances might otherwise allow. The problem with this is that it is readily susceptible to prejudice and discrimination, both overt and hidden. It is well-known that doctors, like pretty much everyone else, harbour so-called implicit biases that are readily revealed on the implicit-association test (available online).
This does not mean that physicians express overt sexism, racism, or others forms of bigotry – but rather that these unconscious beliefs about others can influence the kinds of treatments that they offer. Thus, bedside rationing can violate one of the cardinal principles of fairness – that clinically similar situations be treated similarly. So doctors could offer one patient (say, a well-off white person) with unstable angina and blocked coronary arteries the standard of care with cardiac catheterisation and stents, while offering just medical therapy to an African-American patient with comparable disease. And there is ample evidence that such differential treatment occurs.
So how does one ‘choose wisely’ and escape the moral pitfalls of bedside rationing? It turns out that this is an extraordinarily difficult to do, especially in a system such as ours where physicians have such discretionary power about what diagnostic and treatment interventions should be on the ‘menu’ for each patient. This can readily lead to too much and too little offered to patients for reasons that cannot be easily justified.
I think that the solution, at least in the US, might require a wholesale re-engineering of our healthcare system to minimise the financial incentives to overprescribe, and to protect or immunise against the biases that lead to inappropriate rationing at the bedside. The only way to reduce the frequency of these behaviours is to have a single-payer system that controls (to a certain extent) the availability of certain interventions, analogous to the way in which the organ-transplant system regulates who gets transplanted and under what circumstances.
Of course, unlike livers and hearts, what needs to be rationed in the US is money and what it can buy. We could save money by efficiencies of scale and decreasing the waste and administrative costs that contribute at least 25 per cent of the total cost of what we now spend. Can we totally eliminate ‘bad’ rationing? No, of course not. But Americans should do all they can to avoid the moral tragedy of being the wealthiest nation on Earth that chooses dumbly, not wisely, about healthcare.
This article was originally published at Aeon and has been republished under Creative Commons.