Here at 8Asians, we always love having an excuse to put up the picture of Drunk Ernie, especially since a picture of a drunk me isn’t quite as hilarious, even if I am also a fat gay Asian guy who’s also known for blogging.  Imagine my delight here when a colleague showed us this article about Asians, alcoholism and drug treatment with a rather long and admittedly unexciting title. “Pharmacogenetics of Naltrexone in Asian Americans: A Randomized Placebo-Controlled Study” was published in the journal with perhaps the longest one word title known to academia: Neuropsychopharmacology. I’ll bet you that’ll be the winning word in a spelling bee.  For a soon-to-be pharmacist like me, it caught my attention.

The drug in question known as naltrexone was studied by scientists over at UCLA. Naltrexone belongs to a group of drugs that are used to help drug addicts get over their addictions. The scientists discovered that certain East Asians, namely Chinese, Korean and Japanese, carry a gene that makes this drug work better. The article is pretty cool for two reasons: firstly, many drug studies have focused only on Caucasians with very few focusing on people of color, particularly Asians. Secondly, it begins to address the more sociological issue that racism has peppered the supposedly colorblind world of medical and scientific research, and studies like these need to be done to see how we can begin to erase those differences.

That being said, it is irritating to read that the article says “Asian American” when it only addresses three groups within Asian America. Even then, it fails to address that there are many groups within Asian ethnic groups like the Chinese. In a previous post, I wrote how Cantonese were more likely to be subject to the “Asian flush,” so it makes even the supposedly specific term Chinese rather problematic. Also, since the article doesn’t specifically address how often the mutation occurs within these groups, it’s hard to make the recommendation that naltrexone is something that can be used for Chinese, Korean and Japanese alcoholics as a blanket statement.

Despite these criticisms, it’s a good start to begin addressing the issue of ignoring non-Caucasians in American medical research. And of course, it’s an awesome excuse to have Drunk Ernie again. Maybe we can start a meme around him.

[H/T Seema]

A few weeks ago, I was alerted to an online store, Eyewear Envy, an online eyeglass store that specializes in frames that fit Asian faces. The shop is run by Katherine Manalo, OD, an optometrist who graduated from UC Berkeley’s optometry school, and is now based in Texas. She’s also a fellow Filipino healthcare professional, so of course I had to talk to her. Also, being your stereotypical nearsighted Asian American geek who also happens to love glasses–I do have about 7 pairs!–I was interested in knowing more about her.

What was the inspiration behind starting Eyewear Envy?

My mission in creating Eyewear Envy is really to make it easier for Asians to find glasses that fit comfortably and look stylish, particularly plastic frames.  Like a lot of people, I have been wearing glasses since I was really young and still remember how difficult it was selecting a frame every time I had to get new glasses much less ones with any style (see photo).  Frame styles have definitely improved since then, but in my experience it is still a challenge to find frames that fit an Asian face properly.  I was on a mission to find a ”perfect” plastic frame in Hong Kong earlier this year, and even there I could only find one or two that fit well.  The culmination of that trip plus my previous failed searches inspired me to start the company.

What are the specific issues that make glasses for Asians so difficult?

The main challenge that many Asian people face with selecting a frame is finding one that will accommodate a less prominent nose bridge. This issue is not as important when choosing a frame with adjustable nosepads (most commonly frames made of metal material), but more so with frames made of plastic material, which are usually made without adjustable nosepads.  Plastic frames have the potential to sit lower and closer on an Asian person’s face because of an anatomically lower bridge, which can cause the frame to rest on the cheeks and hit the eyelashes .  This can be uncomfortable, and more importantly make it so that the person wearing the frame is not looking through the proper part of the lens and will see distortion.  The other contributing challenge I believe many Asian people face is finding a frame that can accommodate high, prominent cheekbones.  If a frame is already sitting too low and too close to a person’s face, then having prominent
cheekbones only compounds the issue.

Who is your typical customer?  What are your most popular styles?

The site has been live for just a few weeks now, it’s very early but so far TC Charton has been our best selling brand.  We have been getting more orders from California, New York and Texas. I am trying to reach out to Asian populations in all regions of the country.

Who are your major providers/manufacturers? How did you choose them?

Personal experience, trial groups, industry magazines and websites, and online research have provided me with these frame  manufacturers, and I am constantly looking for more.  Two of the main American companies I currently work with are TC Charton and Ono Optical, both based in California.  TC Charton is the only company in North America that manufactures frames exclusively for Asian people.  I also work with a couple of Chinese manufacturers which I located online.  As the company grows and I can determine exactly what customers are looking for I can adjust the collection.  The major frame manufacturers in America do carry a few Asian fit frames in some of their lines, but as of now I am trying to focus on frames that are not so mainstream and not as easy to find at optical chains and/or private offices.

Do you work primarily with American based manufacturers or do you also contract with manufacturers in Asia?

The frames are supplied from America and China. The collection consists mainly of plastic frames (with and without adjustable nosepads), although I do carry a few metal styles and some sunglasses.

What has been the response so far from your customers and providers?

It’s a little too early to accurately comment, but so far it’s been nothing but positive.

Have you come across any issues with the more technical aspects of making the glasses? Do you work with your customers’ optometrists to
ensure the proper fit?

The prescription lenses are made at our lab in accordance with the prescription information given by the customer.  We always confirm the parameters and validity of the prescription with the doctor’s office before filling, as most prescriptions expire in one or two years depending on the state and practitioner.  Currently we only fill single vision prescriptions (not bifocal or progressive), or there’s the option to purchase just frames and have the lenses put in by your optometrist.  In fact, some people who don’t need eyeglasses even order frames without corrective lenses just for the look.

As far as the type of frame, on the site there’s a “Frame Guide” and “Lens Guide” with helpful information on selecting a pair and we are also available to assist via email or phone.  If there are any issues with the fit or with any part of the glasses, we advise customers to contact us immediately for resolution.

I’ve also ordered a pair of glasses from her, so look out for my review of these glasses in a couple weeks.

From the Atlantic Wire comes a report that a new Filipino restaurant in New York City, Maharlika, is offering the infamous delicacy balut, the boiled slightly developed duck egg. To his credit, Adam Martin, the author of the piece sums it up precisely: “[it's] the embryonic egg dish popular in the Philippines and elsewhere in Southeast Asia but reviled pretty much everywhere else.” Curiously, he also states that it’s impossible to find in the US, though I’ve seen it since I was a little kid 30+ years ago growing up in the San Francisco South Bay in various Southeast Asian and Asian groceries.

As an otherwise proud 2nd generation Filipino American, there is NO FRICKIN’ WAY in hell you will ever get me to eat one of those things. My dad made the mistake of showing one to me as he ate it when I was about 6, and I pretty much crapped in my pants, since no 6 year-old American kid ever wants to see a half-eaten baby duck in its eggshell.

Of course now, with all the new Filipino restaurants that are opening up all over the country, people are trying to make balut classy. The Intramuros in South SF had balut baked in puff pastry on their appetizer menu years ago. Thankfully, it’s been taken off. That being said, Maharlika’s menu looks pretty interesting, and I wish them all the best. You still won’t get me to eat balut. Ever.

[Flickr photo credit: Arnold Gatilao]

In No Look Pass, Emily Tay is an extraordinary young woman born to Burmese immigrants, raised in Los Angeles Chinatown, Harvard educated, starter for their women’s basketball team, and now a professional basketball player in Germany living with her female partner. But she faces a dilemma: coming out to her parents, and she is afraid of being rejected and disowned by them.

The documentary will have its world premiere at Outfest LA and one of the few Asian American themed films in this festival. On the one hand, No Look Pass is extremely unique: the experiences of Southeast Asian American queers is few and far between, especially those from Burma/Myanmar. However, it also highlights a dilemma that faces many queers, regardless of cultural or ethnic origin, one that is almost commonplace: coming out to one’s family.

While the story of Emily’s coming out and her sexuality are supposedly the central theme to the documentary, the vast majority of the movie is focused on basketball, which even the director, Melissa Johnson,  admits was her initial interest in filming the Harvard women’s basketball team.  ”[I wanted to demonstrate] basketball as the tool a young girl uses to figure out who she is between adolescence and adulthood,” she writes in her statement about the film.  Emily Tay is an amazing basketball player, ranked in the top 25 in the country for assists while at Harvard, one of the few players to score 1000 points during her career, and she shows moves that the camera loves and focuses on throughout the film.

Unfortunately, Ms. Johnson’s preoccupation with basketball dominates the entire movie, leaving the rest of the film to suffer, even though it could very well have lent some perspectives that are rarely talked about. There are tantalizing bits that Emily talks about the racism that she faces as an Asian female basketball player in the Ivy League, and as the only non-white member of Harvard’s team, but not much else is mentioned. There is more attention paid to her lesbian identity, and she even mentions that she is the only out lesbian in her teams as well as recent and current girlfriends. Very little attention is paid to the homophobia that pervades her sport.

Despite all these flaws, Emily’s story is one that needs to be heard.  The film becomes very compelling with Emily’s story and her character shining through. Even when the documentary become very frustrating with regards to how she actually discloses her identity, it is worth slogging through to see Emily mature in front of your eyes.

For those of you eligible straight ladies who are in the Bay on June 23, the Guardsmen are having their annual Bachelor Auction to help support their programs for at-risk youth in the San Francisco Bay Area. Among the many fine–and God, do I mean fine–men who are available for bidding is one Mythbuster by the name of Grant Imahara, as well as Larry Chiang, a former male model turned businessman and bestselling business writer. Mr. Chiang can run my business any time.

I DID run into Grant Imahara in real life at the SF SoMa Whole Foods and found him all right, though apparently my roommate was completely fan-boyed out. I pushed the roommate aside so I can finish my shopping. Anyway, apparently the Bachelor Auction has spawned a couple of weddings, so who knows? Maybe a potential husband is waiting in the wings for a lucky lady.

(Flickr photo credit: marksmotos)

8Asians is celebrating Mother’s Day all week (Pssst…Don’t forget, it’s May 8th!) by doing what we do best: writing about the women who raised us, nurtured us, taught us, spoiled us, protected us and occasionally for some, drove us up the wall. We love our moms and wanted to share personal stories as a tribute to their hard work.

About 8 1/2 years ago, my mother suddenly passed away from complications due to open heart surgery and diabetes. Up until a few months before her dying, we had had a very tumultuous relationship. I was clearly her favorite, and like what many Asian parents do to their first sons, she pinned all of her hopes, dreams and unrealistic expectations on me. She spoiled me rotten, catered to my every need and made sure that I was taken care of.  (More after the jump.)

However, she also grew up in a household where her father and other relatives gave her constant physical and emotional abuse, and there were many emotional issues that she was never able to resolve. Looking back and knowing what I know now, she suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder from the constant abuse. She was overly obsessed with how she was perceived by others. When my sister and I failed to meet her impossible expectations, especially as my sister and I became teenagers, she acted out in the only way she knew how: with physical abuse until we got too tall and big for her to hit, then with emotional abuse that affected me for years, even after I left home to go to college. It wasn’t until I left for college that I realized that not all Filipino or Asian parents were abusive. The vast majority of my Asian and Filipino friends came from loving homes where the kids didn’t live in constant fear of being beaten, ridiculed, or even killed for some self-perceived slight.

It wasn’t until I began therapy for 2 years to sort out how the violence she went through manifested in her relationship with me that I began to see her for who she was, as a human being with flaws and mistakes but who also deserved love from her son. Even if she was unable and unwilling in the classic American way to deal with her own history of abuse, I personally had to make peace with my childhood relationship with her and forgive my mom.

My relationship toward her began to change slowly and imperceptibly, from one of absolute fear towards her until I realized that I had also gone through some post-traumatic stress disorder myself, to one where I saw her as a woman trying to raise her kids the only way she knew how. While the way she raised us was extremely messed up, I accepted that it was messed up, I stopped rationalizing it, and I relegated it to the past. More importantly, I had forgiven her and began to move on with my life. We talked to each other as adults, and when she gave me advice, I listened to her instead of brushing her off like I always did before I went through therapy. She accepted my partner at the time as my partner.

What was most telling for me was that in the days up until her surgery, she had been telling people how afraid she was of dying. For some reason, whenever I was alone with her, she never brought it up. We talked about things as they had always been. However, at the same time, we didn’t really talk about the future, as if we both knew that she wouldn’t be a part of it. She laughed about my choice of books that I would read while she was sleeping. There were times when we would both nap, she in her hospital bed, I in my chair, and always she would wake up before me, staring at me with a beatific smile, like she was trying to record those moments and etch them into her memory.

The last day that I saw her while she was still conscious and lucid before her surgery, when I had to leave, I gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you,” she said, “and check your driving.” Those were the last words she said to me. A testament of love, and a last nag.

It’s weird that for the longest time while in therapy, I desperately wanted my mom to be like all the white American moms I had seen on TV–a friend, not a mother. That’s not what moms are supposed to be. Parents, especially Filipino and Asian parents, will always be parents even when the kids are now adults.

I realize now that I was given a profound gift, a gift of forgiveness that I had given to myself and to my mom. In the last 6-8 months before she passed away, our relationship truly blossomed into one of respect and love and it’s something that I treasure and appreciate.

That’s why I called this, “My Mother, the Human Being.” I now remember my mom not as some archetype to be feared or adulated without question. She was a woman who survived incredible odds to give herself and her family a better life. But she was also human, who made mistakes, who at times was impossible to live with, but who was ultimately deserving of love from those closest to her. I like to think that I gave that to her, and that I learned to love her unconditionally.

The study was done by Harvard Institute of Socio-Political Progression, with the dubious acronym HIS-PP. The instrument used to measure this was called the Gump Index. And, of course, they were ranked #1 behind the Trojans of the 13th Century BC. How they managed to get living Trojans who are that old is beyond me.

Thankfully, some Filipinos are getting the joke. What’s funny, sad and surprising is that so many actually believe it. As a friend of mine sniffed, “Filipinos are less likely to do their research and look at the sources quoting this.” Maybe this explains why so many Filipinos watch Fox News with the crazy conservative Filipina American commentators who parrot the views that their white compatriots believe. (Joke lang, really.)

The Japanese obviously have more to gain by showing that the government still has some control; the Americans jab at the poor Black folks who had to loot in order to survive Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. The Japanese–to a certain point–believe that their government will be able to take care of them during a disaster; the Americans, unfortunately, know better.  This also downplays what I think is an important part of humanity: when faced with a life-or-death situation, your very survival overrides any sociological or cultural expectations. If a person has to steal from someone to stay alive, especially when one has suddenly become homeless, one will do it.

Alternet has posted an interview by Ed Schultz taking both American and Japanese media to task by addressing the presence of looting in Japan. I find it sad that racism is playing such a huge role in how Americans are looking at this disaster. While in the midst of all this suffering, we’re still pointing out that Asians are the “good minorities” and Blacks and the poor are the “bad ones.”