Stop Saying ‘Mail Order Bride’

Last week NBC’s media department announced a plan to develop a culturally edgy sitcom that would follow ‘a widowed single father who orders a mail-order bride from the Philippines to help raise his two preteen daughters.’

Presumably NBC was trying to surf the zeitgeist of smash hit sitcom Fresh off the Boat, based on comedian Eddie Huang’s memoir of growing up Chinese-American in 90s suburban Orlando.

Mail Order Family meanwhile, is grounded in female comedian Jackie Clarke’s memoir of growing up with a Filipino stepmother, whom she didn’t like.  Clarke had previously drawn on this material for a segment on the NPR podcast ‘This American Life.’

Jackie Clarke volunteered to shine a light on the Filipino migrant experience.

In the podcast, Clarke describes her stepmother Pora as an opportunistic, emotionally unhinged woman who has zero interest in being a mother. The illustration from the press kit for the show pretty much reflects the picture Clarke paints in her segment.

Whilst valid content for a personal, if somewhat exploitative podcast, giving Clarke authority to speak for the Filipino spouse migrant experience is problematic. People are free to share their experiences, but when they also deal with other culturally sensitive topics, how they tell their story matters.

And given the way Clarke tells the story…well let’s put it this way, no one wants to see a little freckled redhead running around with tape on her nose to look more Asian, while her self-involved stepmother looks on in disinterested disgust.  The portrayal of the Columbian hot-head wife from Modern Family is positively progressive in comparison.

Needless to say the Twittersphere went nuts and within three days of releasing its media kit for the show, NBC promptly and wisely announced its decision to cancel the show.

I was relieved as hell, but also somewhat bemused by the basis on which my fellow Twitterers-in-arms had objected to the show.  The focus was human trafficking, rather than the negative stereotypes about female Asian migrants that would be propagated by the show.

To be clear, human trafficking is defined as ‘the illegal movement of people, typically for the purposes of forced labour or commercial sexual exploitation.’

Human trafficking comes in many forms and is a grave worldwide problem.  I agree 100% with the sentiment that human trafficking is not funny. I just don’t think it applies here.

To say that a woman who meets and marries a man from a more financially developed country through a dating agency is likely to be a ‘trafficked woman,’ perpetuates stereotypes of migrant women labelled ‘Mail Order Brides’ as desperate victims with no agency.

The term ‘Mail Order Bride’ is used to describe women who publish their interest in marrying abroad on an international dating website.  While they may eventually decide to become prospective spouses in a foreign country, these women do not sell themselves for sex or marriage, they merely sell their image and profile to the service provider.

The functionality of these sites is similar to OKCupid or Tinder.  That is, foreign suitors can message women, but are not given private contact details. What happens from there is up to the individuals themselves. If the relationship evolves to the point where marriage is on the table, they are free to apply for a Partner visa.

Australia has a high number of Partner visa applications every year. They constitute around 25% of our migrant intake, and for the most part applicants are from low-income countries. As a result we have extensive provisions to ensure that this visa is not exploited by human traffickers.

For starters, in order to be eligible for Partner visa, extensive evidence of a genuine relationship between the applicant and the sponsor must be shown. We’re talking photos, emails, interviews and third party statements. I’d also like to highlight that, duh, the Australian sponsor must have met the visa applicant in person.

(This highlights the first fallacy of the term ‘Mail Order Bride.’ If you had to travel to the country of origin to be able to bring an Amazon kindle into the country you’d hardly call that a ‘Mail Order Kindle’ would you?)

Critically, Partner visa holders who experience family violence are able to apply for Permanent Residency.  This ensures that visa holders cannot be coerced to stay in abusive relationships through the threat of deportation.  They are not ‘trapped women.’

The top 10 countries of origin for Partner visas in the decade from 2001-02 to 2010-11 show the high level of migration from low-income countries.

As I have a lot of family members from developing countries – particularly Bangladesh and the Philippines – I have known a number of women who have come to Australia via Partner visas.  A constant source of angst for me has been the negative racial stereotyping of these women in the West.  The controversy over Mail Order Family showed that these stereotypes are alive and well. Many people still cling to the somewhat racist and sexist notion that if you met your partner through an international dating web site, you are either a desperate woman or a gold digger.

There are many reasons why a woman from a low-income country would consider looking abroad for a life partner, as the preferred choice, without any sinister incentive.

A common reason women choose to list with agencies to marry abroad is that they have ‘aged out’ of the conventional marriage pool in their own country.  For example, much has been written about the phenomenon of Chinese ‘leftover women.’ These are women over the critical age of 27 who have embraced education and urban living, but are considered too old for marriage. It should come as no surprise that many of them set their sights abroad in their search for a spouse.

Divorced women and women with children out of wedlock, particularly in very religious countries, are another group that may have difficulty finding a partner at home.  This is certainly the case in the staunchly Catholic Philippines, where a divorce can only be obtained via an annulment.

Economic drivers play a big part of course. But they are more economically complex than simply wanting a grey-haired sugar daddy.

Over the past few decades many developing countries have followed India’s lead and invested heavily in education. Unfortunately professional opportunities in these countries have not caught up with the rich skill base of the population.

An unmarried cousin of mine in Bangladesh with postgraduate qualifications in pharmacy once lamented:

“It is very hard for us women, there are about 800 applicants for every professional job.”

By emigrating with a foreign spouse, these women can fulfil their dreams of career and family with far more agency than they would have at home.

I’m particularly frustrated by the fact that a racial double standard seems to apply when women improve their economic situation through marriage.  We see this double standard throughout Western literature and popular culture. From Cinderella meeting her Prince Charming, any number of Jane Austen heroines, to Carrie Bradshaw getting a big fuck-off-walk-in-closet care of Mr Big, we celebrate these protagonists.

Big promptly proposes to Carrie Bradshaw upon presenting her with the shoe-closet of her dreams.

But when an Asian woman improves her situation through marriage, and there is a visa involved, our views are very different. Why?

My theory: racial stereotypes about Asian women as sex objects run deep. I could not even begin to guesstimate the number of times I have heard the now infamous line: “Me so horny. Me love you long time”, quoted in popular culture or by idiot coworkers.

Hypersexualised stereotypes about Asian females such as in Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket run deep in Western culture.

Asian women are casually fetishised to the extent that week long bucks cruises in Thailand are a thing.  We got a solid reinforcement of these stereotypes in The Hangover II, which in the credits, featured the (sadly) iconic image of a woman launching a ping pong ball from her vagina.

Let’s be real.  We would never define women at home by invoking some sexist reference as to how they met their husbands. How about Nightclub Hookup Bride? OKCupid Bride? Blind Date Bride? Used-To-Date-His-Friend Bride? Or Victorious Other-Woman Bride?

(one of these could be used to describe my relationship, please take our poll below)

Many people express doubt that there can be a real and equal partnership that is based around structural inequality.  That is, the economic inequality between a suitor in a high income country, and a prospective spouse from a low income country.  This is of course nonsense. There is some level of inequality, be it financial, social or emotional, in the life of most relationships. This is something that does not remain static and changes as people go through different phases of their lives.

Despite what Phil Collins momma said, you can hurry love. To do so inevitably exposes one to the potential risks of scammers, play-ahs and a broken heart. Nevertheless, for most of us, companionship is a fundamental human drive. For many people an international dating agency has proven a sensible way to seek out a partner and resulted in a happy marriage.  Increasingly, women are also seeking out male partners on agency listings.

I would like to submit some alternative adjectives to describe women who meet their partners through international dating agencies, for your consideration:

  • Brave: they are willing to travel and make a home in a new place away from their support networks and culture.
  • Headstrong: they often confront disapproval from their families for being willing to marry a ‘foreigner.’
  • Resilient: many face down judgement and suspicion from in-laws who see them as gold diggers from a backwards culture.

Ultimately, their stories are not mine to tell, but if any of these women ever write of their experiences, I would watch that sitcom.

Tim Burton’s nostalgia: Romantic or Racist?

Over the past week veteran film-maker Tim Burton has come under considerable criticism over the lack of diversity in his casting.

The dozen or so child actors in Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children are exclusively white. When asked to comment on diversity in films and how it related to casting in the film by Bustle magazine’s Rachel Simon, Burton had this to say:

“..[T]hings either call for things, or they don’t. I remember back when I was a child watching The Brady Bunch and they started to get all politically correct. Like, OK, let’s have an Asian child and a black. I used to get more offended by that than just… I grew up watching blaxploitation movies, right? And I said, that’s great. I didn’t go like, OK, there should be more white people in these movies.”

mv5bmtcwntc4ntmzof5bml5banbnxkftztywmzc5odyz-_v1_ux214_cr00214317_al_So yeah, that generated a reaction.

A quick review of Burton’s 36 or so films confirms that he certainly has rarely felt a need for diversity in casting. In fact Samuel L. Jackson, who plays the villainous Barron in the new movie will be the first non-white with a substantial role in one of Burton’s films.

(Although it could be argued that Mr Oogie Boogie, the villain in The Nightmare Before Christmas who talks in deep baritone jive may have preceded Jackson in the colored villain slot. They were different times guys.)

Does this indicate that the casting in Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children is latently racist? Not really. The dozen or so children in the cast are all Caucasian, but according to the plot they are caught in a 1940s time loop.

Historically speaking, in the 1950s there were probably fewer than 20,000 non-white residents in Britain, almost all born overseas. So the probability of being non-white, British, and one of the twelve children in that region with superpowers is pretty low. I am with Burton on his casting choice in this one.

Equally, one cannot dispute that Tim Burton’s particular visions of times past (both British and American) are very, very, white. Like, if you were to line up the stars of his films end to end, you could not find a more pasty – sometimes supernaturally white – assortment of people.

In an era where ‘Make America Great Again’ means ‘Make America White Again,’ you cannot simply evoke cosy nostalgic images of a particular idealised white past again and again without reflecting on what that might mean to persons of colour (hereafter, ‘browns’).

Or generally, what nostalgia for western culture of times gone by may mean for browns.

Not everyone experiences nostalgia the same way

Generally speaking, books and movies that fetishize 1940s England, do not tend to appeal to me.

I don’t share the fascination with a simpler time of lacrosse games, picnics by the seaside and knitted tea cosies that some of my hipster friends share, for the simple fact that it represents a world I could not have participated in.

The same goes for music. While I can enjoy the music of ‘Joy Division’ and ‘The Clash’ as much as the next music nerd, when someone says: OMG I love vinyl and everything about the 70s I totally love the 70s I was totally born in the wrong era, wouldn’t you have loved to have been born in the 70s?

I think: Hmm…a time when a brown person could be called a ‘Paki’ and bashed to death by ultra-nationalists that listened to interesting music. No, not really.

Hardy ancestors or scary rednecks? The answer may depend on your cultural background, and whether you have seen the film ‘Deliverance.’

Meanwhile across the Atlantic, we have the back to basics lumberjack nostalgia. We have an abundance of hipsters self-styled as southern mountain folk playing undersize string instruments. It may seem a simple whimsical callback to a time before Web 2.0, but let me tell you if you are brown there is no mass appeal there. It is just music to lynch to. Or at the very least it is not going to call to something deep and basic at the root of your soul.

Look, there is nothing wrong with loving the Lumineers, or learning to make home brew, or only wanting to make movies with a gothic aesthetic.

But it’s naïve to make out like nostalgia is colorblind, particularly if you are going to invoke Blaxploitation movies as an argument for racial uniformity in casting.

They were quick and cheap movies churned out in response to the absence of people of color in American film. The cultural value of Blaxploitation remains contentious, but they were made in reaction to an exclusion by white film-makers, not as an exclusion of whites.

And as a general rule, browns do not have nostalgia for those times. It’s just Quentin Tarantino.

Nostalgia is messy and complicated and calls for a dialogue beyond one of simple racist labelling.

An example from my own life of being confronted with white nostalgia: I recently had lunch with a friend of mine of British heritage who had just returned from a holiday in India. When prompted about her trip, she immediately began gushing how great it had been to stay at the Imperial Hotel in Delhi, a famous colonial hotel, where she could imagine her grandfather sipping a gin and tonic among the frangipanis.

She then went on to tell an at length anecdote about how the British had made the Indians build a famous monument, the Gateway of India, to honour the British rule as a big ‘screw you’ for having to cede India to independent rule.

For me, knowing the consequences of a rushed and clumsy partition, following decades of divide and conquer setting different ethnic groups at each others’ throats, did not make me terribly receptive to this ideal of genteel colonialism.

I had to voice my feelings about her perception of my (sort of one generation back) homeland. An interesting, productive, if somewhat tense dialogue followed.

In my opinion, it is not racist to paint a nostalgic image of an era, as Mr Burton tends to do. But if you are going to continually romanticise an idea of time and place, that excludes particular ethnic groups, be prepared to talk about it, and to wear some criticism.

People who don’t have a place in your fantasy may get annoyed.