“Coronavirus! Chinese Virus! Ching Chong (Qing dynasty bug)!” Every time someone calls me one of these derogatory terms and slurs, I recall a news report on the attack on an elderly Chinese lady. In panic, she shouts and cries in Toishanese, my mother tongue: “He hit me!” She was attacked for a simple reason: She was Chinese during the pandemic. This “anti-Asian virus” rhetoric peaked across the United States. Absurdly, many Americans perceive Chinese people as both the object and the abject by using them as profitable commercial symbols while simultaneously seeing them as viruses that need to be expelled from the country.

Not long ago, videos with captions like “You met me at a very Chinese time in my life” appeared on many people’s social media. For example, drinking hot water somehow became a Chinese “aesthetic” behavior. Yet, this tradition is due to a movement to combat poor hygiene in the last century, and a tradition in Chinese medicine. The historical facts were less known to people because the trend of “Chinesemaxxing” narrowly focuses on what can be aesthetic only. The traditions were isolated from their history, most importantly, and their people. China and the Chinese people shouldn’t be someone’s “discovery” like Columbus “discovering” America and its indigenous people.

The trend of “being Chinese” isn’t the first time people in the United States have appropriated Asian cultures. Chinoiserie and Japonisme thrived in the 1800s, where colonizers exploited Chinese and Japanese elements as commercial symbols. And yes, this exploitation can still happen today. Take, for example, Logan Moffitt, a white TikToker who commercializes pre-prepared hot pot base as “Hot Pot Bomb.” In this scenario, Chinese hot pot becomes an element that could be rebranded as a discovery. It ignores the history and cultural significance of why hot pot is important in the Chinese diet. As these “Chinese” behaviors become a trend to practice, it provokes further discourse about cultural appropriation.

When the process of Chinesemaxxing becomes a way to be “more Chinese,” Chinese becomes a commercial adjective rather than a noun referring to the “Chinese people.” Indeed, Chinesemaxxing does, to some great extent, promote Chinese cultures. To many WashU students, this trend could be an opportunity to normalize being Chinese and should be accepted. It seems paradoxical, however, when many are Chinesemaxxing while ignoring the discrimination and violence that the Chinese endured in the US. In other words, when people lose the right to be Chinese in this country, Chinesemaxxing then becomes an ironic trend, in contrast to the living reality of the community. 

For example, Anna May Wong, a famous Chinese-American actor, was rejected from the movie adaptation of “The Good Earth,” a story set in China. Instead, the two main roles went to a white actor who had stereotypical make-up to portray a Chinese person. Yes, Chinese culture is promoted through this movie, but it follows a similar path to Chinesemaxxing, where the actual Chinese is missing from the picture. Rather than a fun trend, being Chinese in the US comes with danger, including hate crimes and discrimination.

I agreed with Student Life contributing writer Ben Yarkin’s proposal to invite Chinese international students into the conversation and normalize their presence in the WashU community. From my perspective, however, speaking Chinese with the intention to “be more Chinese,” or Chinesemaxxing, still contains the danger of repeating the historical objectification of the Chinese people. Being more Chinese shouldn’t be a goal, not for Chinese people or anyone. It is dangerous to categorize or standardize what it means to be Chinese. Importantly, Chinese doesn’t only mean Chinese international students. I also suggest talking to American-born Chinese students and the older generation of Chinese immigrants. Ask them how they feel about the current political climate and how we can work together to combat unjust policies. 

As someone who grew up in LA’s Chinatown, I was lucky because it was safe to be Chinese. American-born Chinese in other states or regions that don’t have this racially segregated space as a shield may experience discrimination when they are Chinese. Certainly, many are invited to “get out and assimilate,” but it requires them to become outsiders, with potential punishments if they are being too Chinese. By being too Chinese, the Chinese people attract inspection as “exotic” objects. Inviting a Chinese classmate to a party doesn’t change the fact that their visas are revoked. Simply, inviting us to parties wouldn’t be a band-aid solution to stop the exploitation and objectification, not on the WashU campus or other places.

Consider taking a class in the Asian American, East Asian, or WGSS department. Learn about how the real estate industry exploits Chinatown and the Chinese people’s space. If you hope to experience Chinese culture by attending one of the on-campus events during the Asian Pacific Islander Desi American (APIDA) month, all are welcome. More importantly, let’s make these parties and celebrations continuously exist in this country without fear. Instead of observing Chinese traditions to fulfill a certain goal, take actions and time to bring the people back into the context of these traditions.

Therefore, this article does not intend to discourage the practice of Chinese traditions but to point out the importance of history, people, and community when it comes to the discussion of Chinesemaxxing. Be cautious of any future cultural aesthetic trends, and remember where they come from and the history they carry. Chinese people, Chinese people’s dignity, and Chinese culture don’t have a place when the Chinese are seen as an object or a virus.

他们都说我不是人，而是一个物件，我不信 (They all say I’m not a person, but an object. I don’t believe it).