One of my research interests is entrepreneurship and self-employment among Asian Americans. In that context, as New American Media reports, one example that has increasingly become prominent in recent years is the dominance of Vietnamese Americans in the nail salon business:

These days, [nail salons are] a main source of living for the Vietnamese American community. Drummey, publisher of VietSalon, a bi-monthly magazine, says that nearly 45 percent of the nail salons in the United States employ Vietnamese technicians or are Vietnamese owned. . . .

And with that growth has come advancement. Men, for one, are entering the field in huge numbers. And as Vietnamese Americans are becoming more entrenched in the industry, they are investing more funds and technique in their daily work, upgrading their salons with top-of-the-line equipment and first-rate artistry.

The article also mentions that apparently, there are now even international competitions on nail art (the intricate designs that are painted onto fingernails). Unfortunately, the article does not mention any challenges that Vietnamese experience in either opening up or operating their nail salons (such as dealing with increasingly stringent health regulations, toxic fumes from the chemicals used, and competition from other Vietnamese salons), nor any issues related to interacting with their clientele that inevitably arise (i.e., how customers might get annoyed if employees talk among themselves in Vietnamese rather than English, etc.).

For those discussions, be sure to read Prof. Miliann Kang’s research on Korean-owned nail salons in New York City. Nonetheless, one cannot help but be impressed by the extent to which Vietnamese have come to dominate this particular industry. It is a testament to their efforts to find their own niche and to leverage their individual and collective resources to succeed in their own small businesses and in the process, fulfill their version of the American dream.

The subject of this post doesn’t relate specifically to Asian Americans, but nonetheless relates to this blog. The Internet has always been a medium for free speech and unfettered expression. But along with that freedom, it’s also been a place where many people use the cloak of anonymity to express themselves in hateful and threatening ways. Is it too late to introduce some civility into this universe? As the New York Times reports, many bloggers are calling for a voluntary code of ethics and conduct, which is already causing much controversy itself:

Chief among the recommendations is that bloggers consider banning anonymous comments left by visitors to their pages and be able to delete threatening or libelous comments without facing cries of censorship. . . .

Bloggers could then pick a set of principles and post the corresponding badge on their page, to indicate to readers what kind of behavior and dialogue they will engage in and tolerate. The whole system would be voluntary, relying on the community to police itself. . . .

A subtext of both sets of rules is that bloggers are responsible for everything that appears on their own pages, including comments left by visitors. They say that bloggers should also have the right to delete such comments if they find them profane or abusive. That may sound obvious, but many Internet veterans believe that blogs are part of a larger public sphere, and that deleting a visitor’s comment amounts to an assault on their right to free speech.

Like many sociologists who study this issue, I agree that I anonymity provides people with a very effective and useful excuse for engaging in offensive behavior. It’s very similar to how people act within mobs — that being part of a big group gives them “cover” and allows them to do things that they normally would be deterred from doing.

The same principle applies to the Internet — whether it’s in the form of blogging, participating in discussion forums and message boards, or playing an online multiplayer video game, anonymity allows people to ignore conventional norms of civil — and frequently legal — behavior. Remember that this code of conduct is voluntary, not mandatory. People can choose whether or not to participate, which is the essence of freedom of expression and democracy.

I firmly believe in freedom of speech and expression, but there is a clear line between disagreement and illegal harassment and threats.

It’s not a surprise that the situation of Muslims and Arabs being detained without any direct evidence after 9/11 has been compared to that of Japanese Americans being imprisoned in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor. In that context, neither should it be surprising that overwhelmingly, the children and grandchildren of those Japanese Americans imprisoned side with the rights of those Arabs and Muslims detained after 9/11:

In recent years, many scholars have drawn parallels and contrasts between the internment of Japanese-Americans after the attack on Pearl Harbor, and the treatment of hundreds of Muslim non-citizens who were swept up in the weeks after the 2001 terror attacks, then held for months before they were cleared of links to terrorism and deported.

But the brief filed today [by the descendants of Japanese Americans imprisoned after Pearl Harbor in support of Arab and Muslims detained] is a rare case of members of a third generation stepping up to defend legal protections that were lost to their grandparents, and that their parents devoted their lives to reclaiming. . . .

The brief counters that the ruling “overlooks the nearly 20-year-old declaration by the United States Congress and the president of the United States that the racially selective detention of Japanese aliens during World War II was a ‘fundamental injustice’ warranting an apology and the payment of reparations.” . . .

If it was a grave injustice to subject “enemy aliens” to prolonged detention on account of race and national origin in World War II, the brief says, it was at least as unjust to single out the Turkmen plaintiffs, who were accused only of overstaying their visas.

The article describes the personal stories of the three Japanese Americans who co-wrote the legal brief and what they and their ancestors had to endure in the whole imprisonment process after Pearl Harbor. Their experiences help to put a human face on an issue that may seem rather remote to some people, even to Asian Americans.

As the article describes, the Supreme Court initially ruled in three cases in the 1940s that the imprisonment of Japanese Americans was legal and constitutional. However, in 1983, the Supreme Court overruled and reversed those earlier decisions when evidence came to light which showed that evidence of Japanese American being a security threat were overblown and that negative evidence which showed them to be no threat was suppressed or ignored.

I’m not a legal scholar, but it seems so clear to me that when the Supreme Court made those rulings in 1983 and when Congress and Presidents Reagan and Bush Sr. officially apologized for the Japanese American imprisonment in the late 1980s and early 1990s, that a significant precedent was established on the constitutionality of detaining Americans with no direct evidence, even in times of war.

In instances like this, my diehard liberal ideology comes through loud and clear — the ends of trying to ensure national security do not justify the means of profiling and singling out an entire group of people, stripping Americans of their constitutional rights, and imprisoning them with no direct evidence that they personally have committed any crime.

Why are the lessons of history so hard to learn?

What do you get when you combine first, arguably the world’s best collection of colleges and universities who are looking to expand their reach and revenue, and second, a country that lacks enough higher education opportunities for its population that’s approaching one billion? As the New York Times reports, the answer is simple: U.S. schools are eagerly seeking to build “satellite” campuses in India:

Some 40 percent of [India’s] population is under 18, and a scarcity of higher education opportunities is frequently cited as a potential hurdle to economic progress. . . . The growing American interest in Indian education reflects a confluence of trends. It comes as American universities are trying to expand their global reach in general, and discovering India’s economic rise in particular. It also reflects the need for India to close its gaping demand for higher education.

Among Indians ages 18 to 24, only 7 percent enter a university, according to the National Knowledge Commission, which advises the prime minister’s office on higher education. To roughly double that percentage — effectively bringing it up to par with the rest of Asia — the commission recommends the creation of 1,500 colleges and universities over the next several years. India’s public universities are often woefully underfinanced and strike-prone.

Indians are already voting with their feet: the commission estimates that 160,000 Indians are studying abroad, spending an estimated $4 billion a year. Indians and Chinese make up the largest number of foreign students in the United States. Madeleine Green, vice president for international initiatives at the American Council on Education, calls India “the next frontier” for American institutions, many of which have already set up base in China.

The article notes that there are still many administrative and bureaucratic hurdles to overcome in order in India, but the trend seems to be irresistible — American schools are salivating to get into India and to tap into that burgeoning pool of students (and of course their tuition money).

The way I see it, there clearly is a need for more higher education programs in India. This need exists among India’s middle and affluent classes, but also among its poor and working classes. That is, among many of India’s poor, a college degree is likely to be their best chance at escaping poverty and building a life for themselves and their families.

Therefore, however these American-Indian educational ventures are ultimately structured, I hope the American schools can look beyond the dollar signs dancing in their heads and remember that they have a social responsibility in India, just as they do here in the U.S. — to give anyone who wants a realistic and fair chance at completing a college education, regardless of their economic means or social background.

In recent years, many of my posts about the Japanese have focused on their denial of their military’s war crimes and atrocities during World War II. However, it’s important to also point out instances in which certain Japanese are using their power and influence to do good deeds. As CBS News reports, a Japanese real estate billionaire is letting poor Native Hawaiians live in several of his million-dollar mansions for free:

Japanese real estate mogul Genshiro Kawamoto handed over three of his many multimillion-dollar homes in Oahu’s priciest neighborhood to homeless and low-income Native Hawaiian families. . . . Kawamoto plans to open eight of his 22 Kahala neighborhood homes to needy Hawaiian families. He says they will be able to stay in the homes for up to 10 years. . . .

The billionaire is one of Japan’s richest men. He said he was embarking on the unusual venture because it made him happy. He also gave each family 10 $100 bills to help them move in. Native Hawaiians are disproportionately represented among the state’s homeless and working poor. . . .

He has been criticized for evicting tenants of his rental homes on short notice so he could sell the properties, as in 2002, when he gave hundreds of California tenants 30 days to leave. Two years later, he served eviction notices to tenants in 27 Oahu rental homes, saying they had to leave within a month. He said he wanted to sell the houses to take advantage of rising prices.

As the article notes, Kawamoto has been criticized for being cold and greedy in the past regarding his real estate dealings and that his history has led many to question whether he has ulterior motives for this current act of altruism. Perhaps he’s looking for some tax write-offs for this kind of “philanthropy” Or he is trying to atone for his past deeds of greed.

Whatever his motives may be, I think he deserves praise for finally using his wealth and power to help those who are less fortunate. He might have some other motivations besides pure sympathy for these Native Hawaiian families, but he’s smart enough to know that now that he’s committed himself in such a public way to help these families, he can’t turn around and screw them later without being completely ostracized by humanity.

It’s also nice that he’s chosen to help Native Hawaiian families, who don’t get nearly the amount of attention that they should in regard to how their land was basically stolen from them and the level of systematic discrimination they’ve faced in their own native land — similar, I suppose, to what American Indians have faced here on the mainland.

The following is a guest post from the Cynical Anti-Orientalist, who has graciously allowed me to reprint some of their posts from time to time:

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This is a story of my life as a queer, feminist Asian American woman and my parents:

Let me just share a little bit about my family before I get into my secret undercover attempt to decolonize my parents. My parents immigrated to the U.S. in 1990. I was four years old. They came to the States because of emergency family issues and they didn’t intend to stay. Their plan was to take care of the issue and then go back to China. I was not brought on the trip. Interestingly, they did decide to stay for family reasons and could not afford to bring their only daughter (me) with them.

Like many Chinese immigrants in the U.S., any degrees earned in China do not count as academic achievements. My father, who was once the head of the Labor Department of ShenYang was forced to work at McDonald’s. My mother, who formerly worked at a publishing company in ShenYang, worked three jobs at a time, all in the service-sector. They have owned a Chinese restaurant where white kids would come in, order fried rice, and spill it all over the floor and graffitied my parent’s shop window.

Eventually, they saved enough money (six years later) to come to China and get me. I was ten when I moved to the States. My mother found a job as a line cook at UMass Amherst and my father worked (and still works) as a machine-operator at Yankee Candle. My mother, being the strong and assertive woman she is, has been promoted countless times. Now, after working in the same institution for eleven years, she is finally a manager. (I am careful in my description of my parents’ jobs because I do not want to make judgments of their choices, most of which are for the benefit of me).

Throughout my childhood, because we were low-income, my family was always being used in the racist scheme of divide & conquer. Because they worked with other low-income people of color, they always stereotyped and racialized them as being lazy and dumb. I am sure that their white co-workers told them that Chinese immigrants like my parents are really the smart and hard-working ones, as to other immigrants of color. My parents were the “model minority” and they bought into it like many others.

My mother would always justify her racism by stating that even though she was once poor, she was able to overcome her class status while other people (mainly Black, Latinos and Southeast Asians according to her) couldn’t overcome their poverty because they were “lazy” and “unmotivated.” For those of you who do not believe/have not heard of model minority imperialism, my parents are a classic example (this is not to put blame on my parents but to point out how people of color, throughout history have been pitted against each other again and again to maintain white supremacist policies and benefits). Growing up in that household, I could constantly hear racist statements regularly and whenever I listened to rap & r&b on the radio, my parents would scold me for listening to “Black” music.

Luckily, although my school was predominantly white and color-blind, the friends I made when I first came to the States were students of color. I wasn’t particularly accepted in the Chinese community because most of the kids were from Taiwan and many of them didn’t like me because I was a mainland northerner. So my friends were predominantly Black and Latino along with immigrant kids from my ESL classes.

In middle school, I became conscious of race and racism and joined the “anti-racist” fight (at that time it was color-blindness) with my classmates. Throughout high school, it was still the same kind of color-blindness. It was in college in my Asian American Studies and African American Studies classes that I learned color-blindness is not an answer to racism. But throughout those years, my parents encouraged me not to date at all, and most importantly, not to date anyone Black or Latino.

Up until recently, my mother (I don’t talk to my father that much, he’s not the talkative type) still believed that the poor/homeless/unemployed are just lazy. Let me just say first that talking to my parents beyond superficiality is a bit overwhelming because I didn’t have the awesomest (is that a word, ’cause I just made it one) time with parents who constantly pushed me to be the model minority throughout my childhood years.

I was rebellious and dyed my hair a bunch of different colors until my mother threatened to shave my head. I was also very very bad at math… The differences and the generation gap pulled me and my parents apart and I’m still trying to mend those missing pieces together. It has been an incredibly hard time because it has been both frustrating, emotional and rewarding that sometimes I am just really overwhelmed.

This is not some pet project that will be done once it’s done. Trying to communicate and build a positive relationship with APIA parents for a lot of us can be challenging especially because many APIA daughters & sons try to separate themselves from their parent’s generation and their “traditional” and “Asianness.”

With that said, I have been making the effort to talking to my mother (my dad is next and he has no idea what’s coming). I finally (!) got up the nerve to talk to mother about issues that have an effect on our lives. Throughout the process, I have cried many times because we have made amazing progress (to me anyway since my mom might think I’m just complaining a lot). We have spoke about issues on race, class, gender, queerness, model minority and generally just about our experiences as an immigrant family in the United States. Tough topics I know. Especially with strict Chinese parents.

I remember when I first came out to my mother at seventeen as a bisexual woman. Her reaction then is a lot less tolerant than her reactions now. Although she still believes that identifying as queer will damage my reputation (which it does in some circumstances), she shows me her support. Whenever I say something “questionable,” she always concludes by “whatever you decide to do, I will support you.” Although that might not sound like complete acknowledgment, this is really a big step for my mother and me.

I have also tried to demystify the whole “Chinese immigrants are hard-workers who are better than everyone else.” Not that Chinese immigrants aren’t hard-working, but other immigrants and low-income people are as well. In the beginning of my attempt to talk to my mother, I have been incredibly confrontational. But now, I am using a dialogue approach where I nod my head when she talks and then suggest other points of views. This in my experience has been the most effective.

Most of the time, I try to ask my mother to put herself in other people’s shoes. When she does, her perspective changes little by little, backed up by statistics, facts and theories I introduce. Whenever I get frustrated, I remind myself that my parents are not the ones to blame. What IS to blame is the years and years of colonization on their minds by Fox, NBC, racism, discrimination, harassments, corporate ladders, model minority myths, money, wealth, horizontal oppression…etc.

I am still having talks with my mother. And through talking with her, I find a lot of things that I have never been able to piece together in my family. It will be hard in the future though because I am graduating and moving out of the area. But there are still many things that are unsaid and heard.