My Asian Is American: Interview with Suzen Baraka
MIXED ASIAN MEDIA - April 18, 2022
By Alison Lea Bender
My Asian Is American is from the perspective of Emmy-Award winning poet and performer Suzen Baraka. This short will include her story of growing up Black and Korean in America — struggling with shame, helplessness, and rage before finding pride, power, and courage in” a country that loves guns more than it loves the people who make this country worth being in." It’s a poetic rallying cry, highlighting the horrific miscarriages of justice that Asian Americans and Asians in America are (and have historically been) subjected to, from day-to-day micro-aggressions to actual acts of violence and terror against members of our community.
Interview
You’re half Korean also!
Oh, are you? That's awesome. Yeah. I’m half Korean, half black.
I really loved your teaser for your piece. What inspired you to create My Asian Has Never Felt American, and what do you hope audiences take away from it?
I actually renamed it My Asian is American, for a number of reasons. Primarily because I found the rise in violence against Asian Americans to be incredibly disgusting, particularly in New York, a place that I call my home. I've lived here for over 17 years, and I couldn't believe that we could be an epicenter to this rise in hatred and violence against Asian American people — when we’re such a diverse city, a city that prides itself on its diversity.
In addition to that, my mother had a few experiences that I needed to mention, and so that helped me to write about what was going on and what we were experiencing. My mother was often afraid of traveling during this period, even before the pandemic was “officially” announced. I remember my mother coming back from a trip to Arkansas, visiting some other family members, and she felt very uncomfortable in the airport. As a nation, we were aware of COVID, but at that point we hadn't had a mask mandate yet. We hadn't even had a pandemic announced yet. I think she felt uncomfortable traveling because people were aware that this virus was sort of coming down the pipeline attached to people of Asian heritage. I hope that people start to recognize that we're not this “other.” We’re also American, and we're part of the fabric that makes this country what it is. That needs to be acknowledged.
Absolutely. I couldn't agree with you more. I was just talking to my mom about why some people still don't understand why the word Oriental is offensive. We’re Asian Americans, when are people gonna get that?
When did you start writing poetry and how did you infuse it into this project?
I started writing professionally probably around 16 or 17. My best friend Cherese Blue, she sort of introduced me to slam poetry. And from there, that was it. I was slamming, I was touring, I was performing.
The whole piece is spoken word. I mean, granted, it's probably twice the length of a traditional slam poem, but the energy is still there. Yes, it is a poem, but it's also a declaration. And in some ways it's my form of activism. And I think that's what slam poetry is, right? It's activism born out of that energy. That's what this piece is.
In addition to being an Emmy award winning poet, actor, and writer, you're also a lawyer. Does law work play a role in your artistic ventures?
Well, I mean, it is an adventure, for sure. Most of the legal work that I do is wrapped up in my company. My company is called Seed at the Table. It's an equity crowdfunding platform geared towards bridging the funding gap for founders of color. That in and of itself is a form of activism. Same for my art. I think it’s all about providing access, information, and a platform for people of color. All of those things pretty much work together.
You call America a country that loves guns more than it loves the people who make it worth being in. Gun control is obviously a huge issue here, yet a controversial, hot topic. How does your project approach it?
I think that line is so pertinent because it is such a factual diagnosis of what’s wrong with this country. The truth is that I don't have a lot of faith we'll get anything done in the space of gun control in this country. Because how many lives, how many children's lives have we lost? And the Dem lobbyists are stronger than ever. I'm always going to advocate on behalf of gun control, but I just, I don't know… beyond using my powers as a writer, as an artist, as a citizen, as a voter, I honestly don't know. I don't have a lot of faith in the system as it currently stands.
Agreed. We can, we can complain and talk about it all we want, but what power do we have in it?
But that's the thing. I think we should complain and talk about it as much as we can. Granted, that may not change anything, but I think if it does anything, it changes our hope, it changes minds, or at least it keeps it at the forefront of people's minds. Do you know what I mean? I think so much of activism is keeping the conversation going, because it's the moment that we stop talking about it, stop bringing it up, the moment we stop making it an issue that it's no longer an issue.
It's so taxing and emotionally draining for many people, but maybe after decades and decades of us complaining and crying about it, maybe something will change.
I think it's being honest about what condition we're in right now. I think it's about raising the conversation over and over again. It's about pointing out the discrepancies and the issues, and making America face its truth in the mirror. If I do anything in these pieces that I'm writing — sometimes I struggle with even calling it poetry because, for the most part, it's just facts — it's just telling the truth.
Are there certain aspects from each of your heritages that you connect with, or do you find yourself living in your own self created, mixed way of life?
I think a little bit of both. My mom's Korean. I grew up eating Korean food, so I connect so deeply to that. But at the same time, I grew up with my grandmother, who's Black and from the south. So I grew up on that food as well. I grew up eating all these different kinds of foods, and so I connect very deeply to culture through food.
My sister and I have been on this lifelong journey to learn how to speak Korean. It's not even that it's so hard, it's a matter of just having the time. I've got as far as being able to read and write Korean because it's phonetic, but I'm still working on vocabulary and grammar.
At the end of the day, I’m a woman with Black skin. I can't negate the fact that the world sees me as a Black woman. Irrespective of anything else, I am treated as Black woman when I go out into the world on a day-to-day basis. That's what my reality is. I think I connect to my Blackness with respect to how I'm perceived in the world, and I'm very connected to Black history in America. I was an Africana diaspora studies major in college. I was a double major, so I was an English major as well. I think that comes from my mother's consistent pushing for me to learn English perfectly because she was very nervous that her speaking Korean to me was going to hold me back, or her influencing me too much in traditional Korean ways would somehow hold me back as an American.
Wow. That's actually the same with my mother as well, the language part. I can relate so much. I know we come from different walks of life, but it's really nice when I meet another half Korean because you get it, you know?
What language do you use to identify with, or do you prefer to ditch the labels?
When you say that I'm assuming, you mean with respect to mixed versus Black, Asian, Blasian, or those things.
Yeah!
I just say I'm Korean and Black. I don't really, I don't remember the last time I said, “Next,” but that's not for any political reason. It's just how I identify.
What's your reaction if someone calls you Blasian?
It doesn't bother me. I've never taken it to be anything derogatory. I'm a poet and a person of color, so I think wordplay, creating new words, and things like that are a part of the culture. That's just a part of how people understand and communicate in this community.
My last question for you is, what were the prominent struggles you faced as a mixed child? And how did you arrive at your state of pride and courage?
I write in the piece about the struggles I had with food and other kids looking at my food and being like, “Oh, what is that?” That was a constant struggle because, again, my mother's Korean, and so even though my grandmother cooked dinner, a lot of times my mother would cook breakfast. Breakfast in our house wasn't like eggs and pancakes. It was Korean steak and kimchi and rice. A lot of times people would criticize me because maybe they felt like I smelled too much of garlic, or if I brought food into school, they felt like it was stinky, or if they came to my house, they would question the fried rice because it didn’t look like the fried rice that they had at the Chinese food restaurant. So there was constant questioning of food, which is why I think I'm so defensive over Korean food. I love ethnic food. I grew up on Korean food. I also grew up on Dominican food, ‘cause my step mom is Dominican. I grew up on Southern food. I have this intense love for foods of different cultures. Even as an adult working in corporate America, I would bring food into lunch, and people would constantly have comments because I wasn't bringing in a sandwich or a salad or something like that. This is through adulthood.
I learned very early on to not care about other people. Truth be told, nothing makes me happier than celebrating my food, my heritage, my culture, and my people. I'm super proud of everything and everyone that I've come from.
I love this new generation, who's looking outwards, looking into other cultures, and looking into other countries to find things that connect us. Because the truth is we're all human, right?
I used to struggle with feeling like I was Black enough. I definitely used to struggle with feeling like I was Asian enough. I would go to Korean Methodist church, and I just felt so out of place all the time. People instantly asked questions like, “Why are you here? Why aren't you taking Korean language classes? Why are you at a Korean church?” On the flip side, I constantly felt like people were questioning my authenticity as a Black person.
I don't always feel like I belong, whether it be through the Asian community or in the Black community. I feel like the more polarized the world becomes, the harder it is. So this piece has been meant to unite. It's really meant to make visible what has otherwise been invisible. It's true that the Asian American community has long been sort of this invisible chunk of Americans. Also the mixed Asian community sometimes can, or at least in my experiences, be left out from the greater Asian community.
Yeah, you're absolutely right. I know why you feel that way, especially. Even in some of these Mixed Asian groups on social media, I feel like being mixed Asian and white is mostly what they talk about and focus on. So it makes me happy to see all different types of mixed Asians represented. Thank you!
End of Interview
Alison Lea Bender is a multi-hyphenate who defies conventional categorization and refuses to be pigeonholed. She is an avid champion for diversity, representation, inclusion in the arts, and the AAPI & POC communities. Some have called her the voice of a generation, some have called her a dangerous threat to society, but most of us just call her "my friend." The self-proclaimed "Hello Kitty meets Marilyn Monroe," Mizz Bender has performed on many a NYC stage as a muse to her many theatre friends and family. She can be followed on Instagram @AlisonLeaBender.