Tradition wins acceptance, but something else is lost
Growing up, my mom and her sisters would ease muscle pain by carving a heated soup spoon against hardened tissue. Known as Gua Sha, this ancient practice found among many East Asian countries is believed to help improve circulation and ease tension by manually applying pressure with a tool such as a spoon or coin wrapped in a towel. I can recall them sitting one behind the other and applying even and deliberate strokes to the back and neck, leaving behind faint red streaks on the skin like new earth after a forest fire.
Nowadays, Gua Sha stones have become a top beauty trend retailing anywhere between $18 to $80. The jade, amethyst or rose quartz stones are marketed as a must-have tool by wellness influencers to accompany any “clean” beauty routine, and can be found on almost any skin-care commerce platform. Gua Sha how-to tutorials by beauty influencers have multiplied online, ranging from free videos on TikTok and YouTube to $110 for a one-hour virtual workshop.
Not limited to beauty trends, other elements of East Asian culture have grown increasingly popular over the past few years. This includes holidays such as Lunar New Year and Dragon Boat Festivals, integrative health practices rooted in Traditional Chinese Medicine such as acupuncture and qi gong, and culinary traditions including bao and bubble tea.
While we see the increasing popularity and commodification of Asian culture, we’ve simultaneously witnessed an unprecedented rise in anti-Asian racism with all Asians scapegoated as the perpetrators of COVID-19, an extension of historical views that Asian people pose a danger to public health.
What began as reports of harassment
and verbal abuse at the start of the pandemic led to physical altercations, and escalated inevitably to the shootings in Atlanta in March and the murder of eight people, six of whom were women of East Asian descent.
While the rise in popularity in practices rooted in Asian cultural traditions could be positive and lead to cultural understanding and acceptance, often cultural origins and intentions are stripped away, rewritten or erased for profitability. It feels as though some have capitalized on the popular elements of Asian culture while leaving out Asian communities. The popularity disguises the reality that our communities face racial violence, leaving us out of the conversation about racism and discrimination. Trendy, yet invisible.
Living with these duelling and contradictory narratives is frustrating and exhausting.
On one hand, the potential of acceptance by mainstream society is being dangled in front of us, making us believe we are tantalizingly close to gaining their acceptance. But it is a myth that keeps us placated and silent. Cultural appropriation is the false hope of acceptance, the broken promise of belonging as it strips our already lacking representation for the price of a trendy $80 Gua Sha.
We need to start by recognizing that everything that we consume is not in a vacuum but is within a system that is rife with inequities and discrimination. In the same way that the environmental movement has us assessing the origins of our food and clothing, whether it’s locally made and sustainably sourced, we need to start understanding and learning about the cultural origins of what we consume.
So, what are ways to respectfully engage in cultural traditions?
First, educating yourself. Researching cultural goods such as food, clothing, art, beauty practices and educate their historical context that brought it to your e-commerce platform, local shop, or restaurant.
Supporting businesses and organizations that pay proper respect to cultural origins, including a way to give back and support the communities where those cultures come from. Call out and voice your concerns when you see culturally extractive practices.
Lastly, businesses need to adopt practices that give back and support the cultures they are sourcing from. This could include an emphasis on hiring certain artists for designing packaging or murals, consulting with cultural experts and paying them for their expertise or appointing them to decisionmaking positions or donating to causes that support the biggest challenges facing the communities they are sourcing from.
We can no longer claim that “borrowing” culture of historically underserved populations is harmless. Over the past year, we’ve seen first-hand how this leads to cultural erasure and readily turns into societal scapegoating. It is time to move toward a future where we adopt respectful practices when it comes to consumption of other cultures.
Tiffanie Tri is a community builder, advocate and social entrepreneur. As the Chair of Girls+ Rock Ottawa, she advocates for equitable access to resources, opportunities and safe spaces for underserved communities