J
a Du, formerly called Adam, is a white male from Florida who thinks of himself as Filipino, saying, “Whenever I’m around the music, around the food, I feel like I’m in my own skin.”
His story appeared on USA Today, which reported that Ja Du drives a tuktuk, a vehicle that he said is widely used in the Philippines. He also claimed that he “grew up enjoying Filipino food, events, and the overall culture.”
“I’d watch the History Channel, sometimes for hours—nothing else intrigued me more but things about Filipino culture.”
Ever since Rachel Dolezal happened, transracialism has had more of a presence in public discourse. The term used to refer to parents of one race adopting a child of another (think Madonna and Angelina Jolie and their adopted children), but now has been coopted to mean “someone of one race who identifies with another.”
Ja Du, who is currently in New Orleans, according to The Root’s Anne Branigin, not only identifies as Filipino but is also transgender.
His efforts could be regarded as a tribute to the attractiveness of Filipino culture, but alas, this fan of Filipiniana has got his Southeast Asian cultures mixed up. Tuktuks are a conveyance popular in Thailand, somewhat analogous to our tricycle. “Ja Du” sounds more Vietnamese or Laotian than anything.
None of the articles I’ve read about him have mentioned that he has Filipino friends or has spent any great amount of time in a Filipino community, so his information about the culture is second-hand and in the two instances mentioned, erroneous.
He means no offense, says Ja Du. “If that’s who they [transracialists] are and they want to celebrate it and enjoy it,” he said in a WSTP-TV interview, “then you have to think ‘What harm is it doing?’ All they want to do is throw themselves into that culture and celebrate it.”
This was echoed by Tampa psychologist Stacey Schreckner. Although she has not worked with clients who say they are transracial, her opinion is “live and let live.”
“If someone feels that they feel at home with a certain religion, a certain race, a certain culture, I think that, if that who they really feel inside, life is about finding out who you are. The more knowledge you have of yourself, the happier you can be.”
Others, however, would call this cultural appropriation. Branigin says ‘Filipino’ is not a race, but an ethnicity or nationality. She calls Ja Du’s attempts to live as a Filipino as “white people nonsense.”
“This is not how it works,” Branigin says. “Why are we treating religion, race, and gender as though they operate in the same ways?… Taking on an ethnic identity… is theft.”
In Dolezal’s case, there was an economic advantage to her claiming to be black—her last position was as a president of the Spokane, Washington branch of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. Her own (white) parents, Ruthanne and Lawrence Dolezal, have called her “irrational” and “disconnected from reality.”
By her own admission, she had identity problems growing up and so does Ja Du. That they both fixated upon non-white cultures is interesting. They can identify as part of a minority group, or underdogs, negotiating their own roles as they please within their chosen community, yet in a pinch, they can escape from adversity brought about by that identity because they are still white and possess all the privileges that brings.
That is why they cannot be fully Filipino. Race, a social construct, carries with it advantages and disadvantages that “adoptees” cannot fully experience by virtue of their birth.
Take the case of the Hey Joe Show guys, five returned Mormon missionaries who served in Cebu. Sumner Mahaffey, Connor Peck, Tylan Glines, Davis Blount, and Jake Mingus post videos of themselves on Youtube speaking fluent Bisaya with an authentic accent. Similarly, Dwaine Wooley, an Australian married to a Filipina, speaks good Tagalog, while Kyle Jennermann, a Canadian in his late 20s, calls himself Kulas on his enthusiastic travel blog Becoming Filipino.
They have acculturated, but not “transracialized,” because one can celebrate a culture without transforming into the same race as the people of that culture. As Jennermann says, “Simply put, I am not Filipino… Truth is I will never be able to say ‘I am Filipino’ (and never deserve/would have the right to). But there are so many simple beautiful things that I have experienced and witnessed that make up Filipino culture… I love the Philippines and would be honored to be able to call myself ‘part Filipino’.”
Like Shreckner, I believe that if it makes you happy and comfortable, then go for it. I would add the caveat, “as long as you are not hurting others.” As Ja Du asks, what is the harm? If he wishes to pretend or play at being Filipino, and he derives satisfaction from that without anyone being harmed by what he is doing, then let him.
Perhaps he might even get it right, and ditch the tuktuk for a tricycle and change his name to Juana (or Jhoanna) de la Cruz.
Dr. Ortuoste is a California-based writer. FB: Jenny Ortuoste, Twitter: @jennyortuoste