Why Randall Park is Important to the MCU Film Universe, to Me

For one of her classes, Mini Me Bookworm is supposed to write something about Randall Park and what his inclusion in the MCU universe means. I’m paraphrasing so I may be getting the assignment wrong. I know it means something to her, but it means something slightly different to me.

I grew up watching characters on tv and movies that didn’t look like me. Or when they did, they were caricatures and stereotypes that made me literally cringe in my seat. It was embarrassing. Prime example: Sixteen Candles. Foreign student. Asian with a funny name that I won’t repeat here. It was made up for comical effect, likely written by white screenwriters. I grew up on John Hughes and there are so many classic scenes in that movie. Would I play that movie for my girls? I haven’t yet.

In To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (the film) Lara Jean calls out the blatant racism in the film. Do I remember other Asian characters in film when I was little? Well, I remember classmates calling me Bruce Lee’s daughter so maybe they grew up with the Bruce Lee movies. In their defense, I grew up with these kids in a smaller school environment and it wasn’t fully meant as a racist slight, but rather a funny thing they said because one time one of the boys was trying to get something out of my back pack and I rushed over to defend my things. I may have sort of drop-kicked him. It sounds more serious when I type it out, but I think he was looking for a pencil. Or may trying to stick in a note. Either way that particular boy was harmless, but the other boys took up the nickname. Even now I rationalize it as there was some teasing involved in the fifth and sixth grade way. If I had gone to a bigger school where I didn’t know all the kids or where I felt threatened, maybe it would have bothered me more.

What bothers me now is this: the fact that they obviously wouldn’t have called me that if I wasn’t Chinese and Filipino. And I definitely can’t imagine someone calling my kids something like that—they are clearly mixed Asian/white but they’ve grown up in a different environment than I have. Mini Me is in high school now, but her grade and middle school was a private school with a diverse population. It emphasized learning as fun and praised all the smart kids. She will joke now and say she was one of the nerds, but she was among bright friends (of varying ethnicities) and that was accepted. When I was growing up, it was assumed that I was smart because I’m Asian. I know that is still commonplace in other parts of America.

Circling back, what does Randall Park being in Fresh off the Boat, that movie with Ali Wong, Ant Man, Ant Man and the Wasp, and WandaVision mean to me? It shows a talented actor playing different type of endearing characters. FOB shows Park as the goofy but caring dad—one maybe similar to the sitcom dads I grew up with like Mr. Keaton on Family Ties. (Full acknowledgment: sitcom dads are often caricatures.) The MCU film franchise shows inclusion of the Asian not as a token caricature, but someone in the FBI. It would be odd not to have an Asian as one of the main characters in Ant Man as it takes place in San Francisco.

What it boils down to is REPRESENTATION MATTERS. Not merely so my kids can see that they can do anything and be anything, but so that the kids and grown-ups living in small town America and big city America can see that we are people just like them. Agent Woo makes mistakes in Ant Man—he never really catches on because Paul Rudd’s character outsmarts him. But in WandaVision, he becomes more of a hero.

I’ve not been very vocal about Black Lives Matter and all the anti-Asian hate crimes that have risen this year. I’ve hinted at it and I’ve followed all the coverage and discussed all the intricacies with my husband and also with my children to a lesser extent. It’s been a lot to take in and process. And I saw many people rise up as allies, I’ve seen many people peacefully protest for rights, I’ve seen many people call out others for their racism.

That’s the first step. While I have been lucky—neither me nor my family has experienced any direct racism to us in this pandemic time, I have heard others say ‘Ching ching chong’ or make slanty eyes to me as a teen, I’ve had others tell me what my name is even as I insist that I know what it is, I’ve had patients make presumptions about me because of the way I look and/or my female gender, and I’ve seen and heard someone who was supposed to be the leader of our country call the coronavirus the “Chinese virus” and “Kung flu”. So many people make excuses for him, but I’m tired of accepting these racist slants and talking it away. It is not okay. And I’ve seen many people I know dismiss his words, but this is not a reality tv show, this is not for ratings, and there is a real call for justice because WORDS MATTER.

We take those words and it becomes part of our psyche. When you see a ridiculous character of a foreign exchange student teen making a fool of himself, you wonder if everyone thinks that you are like that person. When our kids see the leader of our country demean them and other people accept it, they think that it’s okay. Or, the other kids (and adults) take on that taunt and carry it on.

The last few years have been so divisive. We are tired but we are not broken.

Randall Park matters just like Anthony Mackie matters. Chadwick Boseman. Scarlett Johansson. Zoe Saldana. Karen Gillan. We are no longer living in a time where Hollywood hires white men and women to play Asian actors—even as it feels like it when Jenny Han had to insist that Lara Jean be played by an Asian actor. (Thank you, Jenny Han and Netflix.). And we are living in a time where hate crimes are no longer acceptable.

I’m writing this because discussion is important. Words are important. Words matter. And you can see that trend in our media, and in social media, and trickling down to our schools and every day lives. My daughter’s school sent out an email and held a forum after the mass shooting in Atlanta a few weeks ago. They are discussing what happened because the kids are talking about it. At the elementary school I went to, there is no way that would have happened. But we are no longer living in the 80s. We are no longer living in a place where it should be acceptable for three men to hunt down another man like it was a sport.

We are no longer the silent minority. We can’t be. Our lives and our children’s lives depend on it.

I live in the county I grew up and was born in. I accidentally moved back after eleven years of living elsewhere. (Accidentally meaning I matched here and I stayed on after having kids.) And I thought I was living in a different place, a better place, a not so stifling and conservative place because I wanted my kids to grow up in a diverse area where they are judged not by what they look like on the outside. But just this year, on the other end of our county, there’s an Asian family that has been harassed ever since they moved to the neighborhood. The harassment continues but decreased thanks to the good intentions of some of their neighbors who have volunteered to stand guard. I don’t want anyone to have to stand guard around my house while my children live in fear.

But if we stay silent, the racism continues, in big and little ways. If I stay silent, then my girls learn that it’s okay for people to treat them this way.

We’ve grown tired. It’s been a long and stressful year. I just want to continue being a mom and a pediatrician and a writer. But I cannot stay silent any longer.