Bridging the APA Divide
'FOB' and 'Twinkie' are derogatory labels some APAs affix on others to create subgroups. It's an example of internalized racism, experts say.
Look closely at any community and the fracture lines begin to show. Hyein Lee, 19, noticed one day that the Asian Pacific American students at her university had carefully divided themselves into smaller social groups.
One usually gathered in front of the New York University library while the other hung out at student lounges in another part of campus. Rarely did the two groups ever mingle. The dividing factor seemed to be acculturation - the Asians versus the "Americanized" APAs. So Lee wrote an article for her student newspaper calling for the barriers between the two groups to come down.
"I think there is an underlying assumption that because we are of the same racial heritage, we will 'naturally get along' on some common ground," said Lee, a junior at NYU majoring in sociology and history.
But human beings are social animals that tend to group together based on similarities. Under the umbrella of community, smaller subgroups can form based on anything from national origin and economic status to simple preferences of pop music over rock.
In the APA community, the division lines are drawn between "FOBs" and "Twinkies." These aren't strange ingredients of a fruit salad, but the factors that for centuries have created intra-ethnic tension between generations of APAs who chose to keep or cut ties with their ethnic heritage.
Lee, who came to the U.S. from South Korea in 2006 to attend NYU, says that between the two groups she identifies as more of a "FOB." Her hobbies aren't unlike any other American college student's - she watches popular television shows like "Entourage" and rocks out to "Queen" on her iPod.
"I also like to look through Korean news/entertainment sites as well as to talk to my high school friends in 'Konglish' about life in America."
Internalized Racism
"FOBs" and "Twinkies" - the first literally means "fresh off the boat," while the latter is used to describe extreme Americanization - are broad and derogatory terms usually used by APAs to describe others within the community.
"The term [FOB] is a receptacle of derogatory anti-Asian stereotypes," said Karen Pyke, a sociology professor at the University of California, Riverside, who studied the use of the terms in the APA community for a 2003 published study, "'FOB' and 'Whitewashed': Identity and Inter-nalized Racism Among Second Generation Asian Americans."
As part of the research, Pyke and her team interviewed 184 second generation Korean and Vietnamese Americans about their family lives. The word "FOB" kept popping up.
The term could be used to describe a recent immigrant or someone who dresses in a style not seen as cosmopolitan, said Pyke. It can also be used to describe people who speak their native languages with their friends in public or those who strongly identify with their ethnic groups.
In broad strokes, the APA community uses these words to create social stratifications.
During one of the interviews for the study, one respondent defined a "FOB" as someone with "long heels and short tops," said Pyke, who added that there isn't one stable stereotype for the catchall word.
"The common denominator is that [the use of the word 'FOB'] captures the desire to distance oneself from another part of your own community," added Pyke.
It's a feeling that Dan Nguyen, 20, can understand. Growing up in predominantly white Lancaster County, PA, he never hung out with other APAs and barely spoke his native language of Vietnamese.
In high school, he joined the "Twinkie" group on the popular social networking Web site Facebook.com. And in real life, Nguyen never associated with any of the few neighborhood APAs he believed to be "FOBs" - partially, he admits, because he was embarrassed that they were so different.
"In high school I just asked myself 'why can't they talk normally?'" said Nguyen. It took going to a diverse college like Temple University to break down the social barriers. Now his circle of friends is diverse like a "crazy appetizer [plate] with 20 different kinds of starters."
"FOB" and "Twinkie" - like other urban slang - are most often thrown around in middle and high school. It was at her small Denver high school where Denise Nissen first heard the word "FOB." Her then-boyfriend used it as a label for a specific group of APAs.
"He used it to describe the Asian kids that always sit on the floor in a certain corner at our high school," said Nissen, 27. "I knew right away it was not okay to use that term to describe people."
In high school, the so-called "FOBs" would only hang out with each other, said Nissen, who is of Korean, Danish and German descent. But over the years, the divide has not been bridged. The professional dancer said that although she does not avoid any types of people, she has never connected with anyone in "those circles."
"I do think that a lot of 'FOBs' stick together and welcome only each other. I suppose they do not believe people will treat them as warmly," said Nissen. "I think this is due to their own experiences of racism and oppression."
The desire to distance oneself from the "other" within the community is indeed a byproduct of racial domination and having to deal with being stereotyped, said Pyke. "It's internationalized racial oppression."
And it goes both ways.
'Asian-Asian'
Kuan Sng, 42, was born in Singapore where he spent most of his formative years until at 17 he came to the U.S. in 1982 to attend the University of Utah. The transition of going from being a part of the majority to a minority was nothing short of a shock, so Sng joined a fraternity where he was the only self-described "Asian-Asian."
Among his fraternity brothers there was only one other APA from Oklahoma, who Sng thought he would have the most in common with.
"At the end of the day he was 'just like them.' He had no idea what my cultural references were. We didn't understand each other," said Sng.
Later at Yale for business school, Sng took part in a class assignment that again reminded him of the social divide. Students were told to break into groups with others they most identified with.
There were two groups Sng chose from: the APAs and "Asian-Asian." He chose the latter.
"It was like two groups lobbing grenades at each other. We were all friends but we felt that we needed to represent our subcultures."
In college the differences are also vast. At the University of California, San Diego, the Japanese-interest cultural groups and the Nikkei Student Union share only a few of the same members, said Yo Miyamoto, a 21-year-old Shin Issei and president of the NSU.
"I always took it as our communities are different enough that they warranted separate organizations," said Miyamoto, who added the JAs are particularly diverse with both pre- and post-war immigrants.
"Those are very different levels of Americanization that you're trying to aggregate under one community. So I can see where some of this segregation could occur."
"Twinkie" behavior is most commonly seen in the second generation APAs, said Ayako Ito, a 28-year-old student who came to the U.S. 10 years ago to attend college.
They have to straddle two worlds with two identities: their American public one and their ethnic self at home, she said.
Between the two groups, many APAs tend to self-identify somewhere in the center - the "bicultural middle," as coined by Pyke in her study.
Last month, Sng became a naturalized U.S. citizen.
"Technically I've become an Asian American," he laughed. But he still feels caught in the middle. "Maybe it's because I consider myself more Asian than Asian American."
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