Conversation at a Swing State Asian Mart

In many Asian families and communities, opportunities for cross-generational political dialogue are few.  But sometimes they arise in unlikely places.

By Peggy Hong, IMDiversity.com Special Contributor

One of the last and most practical things my mom taught me before she died was “the healthy way” of preparing ramen. I’d stopped buying it years ago because of the hydrogenated fat and MSG. But the way Mom made it was by cooking the noodles, then straining them, while simmering her own broth with whatever wholesome ingredients she had on hand. That way, you could slurp away at the curls of ramen, toss in some kim-chi and an egg, and spare yourself of guilt.

So I was at Asian Mart on Milwaukee's Old World Third Street, surveying the ramen aisle and thinking of Mom, when I became distracted by the mention of George Bush by a loud voice at the checkout. A 50-something woman, probably Filipino, was talking to the African man who runs the Africa Hut restaurant down the street.

“My taxes are lower this year!” she exclaimed. “I couldn’t believe--less this year than last year. Tax cut is good!”

I couldn’t help myself. As I approached the cash register with my case of Sapporo Ichiban, I touched the woman’s arm. “So, you’re going to vote Bush out?”

“No! I like Bush,” she declared. “I’m voting for Bush. He’s saving me money.”

“But isn’t everything else more expensive?” I queried. “Like health care, medicine, even gasoline...”

“No, no, I’m saving money,” she insisted. “I decided long ago, I’m voting for Bush. I like him because he’s honest.”

This was admittedly more than I could handle. Before I could counter, the woman added defiantly, “I don’t care about the war.”

“Really? Do you think Bush was honest about the war?”

“We had to go in,” she asserted, “because of the WMDs.”

“But we’ve been there a year and a half and we haven’t found any.”

“They had them. They buried them. It’s easy to bury them. And we had to get rid of Saddam Hussein.”

“Well, what about the other dictators in the world? What about Sudan, what’s happening in Darfur?”

The woman shrugged, repeating her rhetoric like a mantra. I decided to try a different tack.

“Who do you like for Senate?” I asked.

“Senate....I don’t know much about Senate....If Feingold has done good things for us, I will vote for him...”

“We’re really lucky to have Feingold,” I suggested. “One of the best things he’s done is oppose the Patriot Act.”

“Patriot? Patriotic....I’m patriotic,” she said, nodding and pursing her lips.

Behind the cash register, the affable shopowner, an older Filipino man, finished bagging my groceries, smiled, and said, “I guess we’ll all be watching the debate tonight!”

Indeed.

As I was waiting to cross the street to my car, a young man who had silently heard every word standing behind me in line shook his head, saying, “Wow...that was tough...you made some good points.”

“But I don’t know how much she heard,” I said.

We crossed the street and got into our cars, mine a Civic with a bumper full of political stickers, his, a RAV with a university decal, and drove off. Driving home, I imagined what Mom would have said. First of all, she’d never have gotten into a political debate at the Asian grocery. I thought how rare it was for Asian Americans of different generations to really ever talk to each other about politics -- or even have an opportunity to.

Mom's last earthly vote was for George W. Bush in 2000 because, she said, he seemed like a prince. But after having Medicare cut, and prescription drug costs go up, few of his 2000 campaign promises fulfilled, and the war continuing to escalate in Iraq, would she vote for him again?  Maybe, like the woman at Asian Mart, she'd have her reasons.  But maybe, too, this year we would have taken the opportunity to sit and watch the debates and talk about them together.  I go home with my ramen and wonder.

Other Readings of Interest

• Politics of a Model Minority
  By Peggy Hong, IMDiversity Special Contributor
  Looking at her somewhat divided, somewhat undecided family, the writers weighs immigrant-generation aspirations and interest as "outsiders" against more outward-looking concerns of a new generation that feels it belongs

Peggy Hong is a Korean-American poet, activist, yoga teacher, college instructor, and mother of three teens living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She is author of three poetry collections, and her new book, THREE TRUTHS AND A LIE (Water Press and Media) will be released this fall.

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