Statement to the Public and Chancellor

“I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’”
-Martin Luther King, Jr.

When I first heard these words as a small child, they transcended my physical senses and awakened the sense that many people had struggled and died in order for me to exist in a hate-free environment. Racism existed for me then as it does now, except the melodic rhymes that ridiculed all of my perceivable differences have now evolved into University supported essays of hate speech.

The ignorant portion of our community has deliberately transformed the outrage caused by Max Karson’s article, “If it’s war the Asians want…It’s war they’ll get,” into a debate regarding the definition of a literary device. This debate is irrelevant and should not detract from the fact that a publication supported and funded by the University chose to circulate an extremely racist piece authored by a man who has a long-standing and public history of writing racist, sexist, disrespectful, and generally offensive material. Additionally, the Campus Press published another lesser known opinion article authored by staff writer Lauren Geary titled, “No Hablo Ingles.” This article was personally offensive and has been considered racist by the larger Latino/a community. Why, despite Max Karson’s deplorable history, did the Campus Press still decided to appoint him as the Assistant Opinions Editor where he controlled the voices that would be spread across campus? The fact that these two racist articles were both written by staff members shows a systemic culture of racism and bigotry within the leadership at the current Campus Press.

Many have argued that Max Karson’s article was meant to be a counter-point to an opinion piece authored by an Asian-American previously published in the Campus Press. If they felt that the Asian-American’s piece was offensive, why did they choose to publish it? The Campus Press even admits that, “she (Amanda Pehrson) and Hewlings wanted to have a companion opinion to go along with Karson’s.” It is the responsibility of the Campus Press to represent the issues the community and University faces instead of fanning the flames of racial hatred. They have also argued that Max Karson’s article is, “satire and a commentary on racism at CU.” In what way is Max Karson an expert on Asian relations in American society; is he an Asian Studies major, is he of Asian descent, does he have immediate family that is Asian, or was he raised in an Asian country? The editors at the Campus Press should rename their opinion section, “Racist Viewpoints,” if this is their true intention.

The publication of these articles is another series of reoccurring events at a University that has racism rooted in its founding when it accepted a large donation from David H. Nichols, who participated in the infamous slaughter of Native American women and children at Sand Creek. The upper levels of our Administration seek to “contain” this situation. This is not an event that can be contained, covered up, or solved by simple apologies. Past administrations have taken commendable and measurable actions to combat racism and increase diversity. In contrast, this administration has imposed its own will without considering the voices of those who are most affected. Once again, the reputation of CU has been tarnished and the embarrassment will only continue unless this administration works towards sustainable change instead of damage control. The healing process takes time and the publication of these articles embodies institutional racism.

The First Amendment represents a basic human right and this should be respected. However, our civil rights also include the right to feel safe and secure. I believe that this is a clear violation of Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and in the words of John F. Kennedy, “Simple justice requires that public funds, to which all taxpayers of all races [colors, and national origins] contribute, not be spent in any fashion which encourages, entrenches, subsidizes or results in racial [color or national origin] discrimination.”

For these reasons, we as a community seek the immediate resignation of the Campus Press staff and University faculty responsible for the publication of these articles. We do not want a scapegoat offered up for sacrifice to meet the demands of an infuriated public. An investigation with the purpose of determining the responsible parties should be immediately launched by a panel of students and faculty who support and represent diversity. This investigation must be conducted in an open and public manner. These editors have shown a severe failure of judgment and integrity by publishing these pieces and I don’t think that a diversity workshop will remedy a lifetime of racism.

Finally, many have argued that Max Karson’s article is just an opinion piece and the community has overreacted. The response that we all have labored to create with regards to this article has wasted an incalculable amount of time and effort to many. Many have argued that this article was not meant to be taken literally, but when it is presented without any context there is no other way to approach it. These people also seem to be missing the point that these articles subjected the Asian, Latino/a and Chicano/a races to ridicule and disrespect. In addition, many students, including myself, are now aware of a constant and ever-present threat against us. After this incident, I feel less safe when I step foot on campus. It is not the threats in this article that most disturb me, it is the previous comments Max Karson has made in reference to school shooters that unnerves me.

As a Senior graduating in May and a member of UCSU, I think that I will have failed as a student, community leader, and resident of Boulder if this matter is not dealt with in a manner satisfactory to all those who have been impacted by these articles. I have heard many comments filled with anger, frustration, and outrage, but I urge you to follow the examples set by previous civil rights leaders and engage in a non-violent plan of action. I understand that many of you may be busy, but let me remind you that racism never takes breaks or holidays and neither should we. As a community of all races that supports diversity, we must stand united to let the public know that ethnic intimidation and ridicule will not be tolerated.

Karson’s audience appears to be Caucasian students. How does the shock value affect a response in them?

Also, I find something in your original post to be fairly problematic. Perhaps you can clarify what you mean via context.

“Or should I blame the other children for me not paying attention at hebrew school becomes I was somehow ashamed of being jewish, and if you spend the time to think about it, its silly to blame another child for something of this nature and then you can realize ah ha, its humor…or maybe you dont, in which case, massive lulz on you.”

I’m not hounding you for lack of reason. I appreciate your insight. But that part, particularly, stood out to me.

Though the author goes to great lengths of exaggeration to make his article humorous, I doubt that he’s joking about the impact of his childhood experiences. The disparity between him adapting “Caucasian” culture and his white peers adapting “Eastern” culture is that he feels that he is being forced to assimilate. And though this is hardly the case for the majority of people interested in Eastern studies, he has a point in saying that such cultural symbols are merely paraded around for novelty’s sake.

My point in the statement here is that in the above article he blames caucasians for his inability to speak korean. I was saying that if one reflects on such a belief, it is clearly silly to blame children for this, a child makes fun of anything thats different, and I believe that boils down to human nature. And if a person is so caught up in blaming others for their failure it is epic loss, and that they are to be lulz’d at.

Also, why do you see this author as going through great lengths to make it humorous when you don’t see Max as doing this? I don’t see how catching people with butterfly nets, isnt humor. Even though he should of said, gotta catch em all!, and made a nice pokemon reference. Maybe in the second edition?

“to differentiate them is the perceptions of the respective authors by their audiences.”
And what we have here is a systematic set of LIES and SLANDER by the founder of the group, DAVID CHIU, as well as outlets like the angry asian man blog, to create such perceptions. His labeling of the group as HATE SPEECH, and of course repetitively drawing imagery of past, and current racism, led many people to be convinced they were reading a racist article. Whereas if they would of read the damned thing naturally they would of noticed the satire. What these people have done is cruel in their slander, and is the reason why people are so convinced in their false belief created by these fools. It depresses me that idiots like these have the power to effect peoples mindset.
If it’s war the Asians want…
It’s war they’ll get
Max Karson

Issue date: 2/18/08 Section: Opinion
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Since I transferred to CU last year, I’ve noticed some tension between the white students and the Asian students. There’s never any outright conflict, but I notice little things. Like, Asians always seem surprised whenever I talk to them. They stare at me for a few seconds as though I must have made some mistake, and once they realize I’m intentionally speaking to them, they aren’t always thrilled.

On the other hand, white people are quick to ridicule Asians. They have no problem with making demeaning remarks about their looks, mannerisms, and accents-things they would never say about black people.

So when an Asian refuses to make eye contact with me or dismisses me with a one-word sentence, I just say to myself, “Max, Asians are not evil cyborgs. They’re human, just like you. And if you were a minority student in a sea of walnut-brained business majors and skiers, you’d be crabby, too.”

But last week, I had an epiphany.

After my friend and I finished working our abs at the Rec Center, we decided to head upstairs to tighten our buns on the StairMaster. As we walked down the hallway, a rubber ball bounced out of one of the racquetball courts and landed at the feet of an Asian in front of us. He picked up the ball and leaned over the railing of the court nearest to him.

“Hey, that’s not ours,” I heard a guy call up from the court. The Asian stared down at him for a moment, and then held the ball out to him. “That’s not ours,” the guy said again.

Then another voice called out from a different court, “Hey, does anyone see a ball up there?”

The Asian looked over, confused.

“I think it goes to that court,” I said, pointing to the one nearest to me.

The Asian stared at me blankly for another second, and then he looked back down into the court next to him and offered them the ball again.

“That’s not our ball,” the guy called up.

“Excuse me,” I said. The Asian whipped his head around and scowled at me. “I think it goes to that court.”

He paused a few seconds, and then he said, in a perfect American accent, “Okay,” and tossed the ball into the court next to me.

That’s when it hit me.

The Asian was so jaded by his experiences with the whitebread, brainless tree sloths of CU that even though three people had explained to him that he was trying to return the ball to the wrong court, it was inconceivable to him that we might be right.

And when he looked into my eyes, it wasn’t just irritation and disgust that I saw-it was hate. Pure hate.

I’m such a fool for not realizing it sooner. I can’t tell you how many times the Asians have treated me like a retarded weasel and I’ve forgiven them. But now I know that Asians are not just “a product of their environment,” and their rudeness is not a “cultural misunderstanding.”

They hate us all.

And I say it’s time we started hating them back. That’s right-no more “tolerance.” No more “cultural sensitivity.” No more “Mr. Pretend-I’m-Not-Racist.”

It’s time for war.

But we won’t attack their bodies or minds. We will attack their souls.

The first step, or “Phase 1,” is to find them all. Anyone who is interested in signing up to volunteer can do so by e-mailing me. Next Sunday at noon, we will all meet at Farrand Field. Each volunteer will be issued an extra-large butterfly net.

The hunt will then begin.

When I blow my whistle, we will scatter in every direction and catch as many Asians as possible. Make sure to pay special attention to the Rec Center, the UMC, the math and engineering buildings and Lollicup. If you’re not sure if someone is an Asian, give them a calculus problem to do in their head. If they get it right, net ‘em.

Captured Asians will be dragged to my apartment on the Hill and hog-tied. Once they’re all secured in my living room, “Phase 2″ will come into effect.

The Asians’ reformation will begin with a 100-round beer pong tournament. They will listen to “It’s a Small World” on repeat while they play.

When the tournament is finished, the Asians will then be forced to eat bad sushi from Hapa-with forks. When all the sushi is gone, they will be permitted to sleep for four hours, but the entire time I will shout through a megaphone, over and over, “Why didn’t you make enough Wiis?!”

In the morning, the Asians will arrange themselves in rows, if they haven’t naturally done so already. I will stand in front of them and hold up a card with the name of an emotion on it such as, “sad,” or “surprised.” The Asians must then make a facial expression to match the word on the card. Any Asian who remains deadpan or makes the wrong face will be tickled until they pee. When all Asians make the correct face at the same time, the game will end, but then they will be yelled at for being conformists.

The Asians will then be allowed to play “Dance Dance Revolution.” However, the game will be rigged so that the Asians will receive no points, regardless of how robotically they dance.

Any Asian who tries to escape will be butterfly-netted and sent back to my apartment for another “Phase 2.” Anyone caught speaking any language other than English will be kissed on the lips.

Once the Asian spirit has been broken, “Phase 3″ will begin. Before we let the Asians go, we will go to their homes and redecorate them in a traditional American style. We will replace their rice cookers with George Foreman Grills, their green tea mochi with fried Snickers bars, and their rice rockets with Hummers. And booster seats.

When “Phase 3″ is complete, the Asians will be released.

Now, I understand that this plan may upset some of you Asian readers, but the only other way to make peace would be to expel you. If you’re smart, you’ll turn yourselves in now, and it will all be over in a few days.

Besides, look on the bright side-we’re not going to put you through anything we haven’t put ourselves through, and we all turned out fine.

The piece that he was responding to:

A few words on the Asiaphilic plague
A weak exercise in scapegoat tactics

I’ve been spending a good amount of my free time studying the intricacies of what’s technically my original tongue: the Korean language. I am doing this because I refused to learn properly my parents’ native speech when I was a younger lad. The reason for this refusal can be found- or at least a great deal of it can- within the following two questions:

“Are you Chinese or Japanese?”

“Oh, then what are you?”

These were the two main questions with which I was pelted repeatedly during my elementary school years, the inquisitors being of course my suburban Caucasian peers, as I was one of three yellows in my school: myself, my sister, and a Chinese girl named Peng-Peng (blessed are my sister and I for having been endowed with Anglican names along with our Korean ones).

As I grew rather sick of the constant questioning, I began to wonder exactly why it was that I was so easily distinguishable among my classmates, and it did not take me long to realize that my eyes are slanted, my parents did not speak good English, and my general physical visage is just different. (Now, mind you, I am in no way a product of oppression- more like annoyance and personal weakness).

When Mother and Father insisted that Sister and I learn properly our original tongue, this was my response:

“No, mommy! I wish I was white!”

Thus, I ignored my parents, refused to learn Korean any further and lived out the rest of my developmental years.

Let us now skip those years, into what’s almost the present day.

I spent this past summer engrossing myself in the guilt and release of a two-month stay in South Korea, living with my relatives, and studying the language. I had realized some time before that I was ashamed of my formerly being ashamed of my parents’ transfer of their skin/culture onto me, and I was to pay bitterly in a self-experimentation session in order to learn Korean as quickly as possible.

I returned to my long-suppressed childhood.

They say children learn languages best- and indeed a child I was again. The details of that grotesque experience in South Korea shall not be explicated here- all the reader needs to know at this point is that it involved an induced psychological regression to my 6-year-old self, which was then diluted with leftovers from my 21-year-old angers, fears and lusts.

I trotted along the neon-flashing streets of Seoul, thinking exclusively in my limited Korean, childlike and wonderfully naive, wondering why I was receiving sudden flashes of murdering the white, touristic Asiaphile to my right who couldn’t pronounce anything properly- the one who was intruding on my goals.

Yes, the very Caucasians who discouraged me from my parents are now, a decade and some later, the ones who mystify Asian letters, exoticize my female peers and make gross attempts at understanding the Eastern mind through university lectures and the Thai restaurant down the street. Suddenly, the same Caucasians who once asked me if I was truly capable of seeing out of my slants of eyes are now tattooing Chinese characters on their arms, drooling after yellow women and marveling at the mysterious aesthetics of the Eastern mind.

And so they rape me of my linguistic eloquence, strain my relationship with my parents and then take my women. Fantastic, my friends - utterly grand.

“I’m a Japanese major because- well, you know- I just really like Japanese culture!” say so many of them.

“Wow, you speak Korean? Is that, like, related to Chinese at all?” someone, apparently not worth naming, once asked me.

It also does not make matters better that Korea is still the ignored purgatory between almighty China and technologically ruthless Japan. And so, I’m still asked if I’m either Chinese or Japanese, only it’s now out of awe, instead of contempt.

Dear Asiaphile,

I hate you.

Other Opinions:

The point it makes is that the people protesting Max Karson are just suffering from a massive victim complex and that they can only use their tunnel vision to imagine threats against themselves. Then they systematically label the article HATE SPEECH and RACISM in the titles before passing it along to their friends creating a preconceived notion that its some horrid article.

I enjoyed this article too, and I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t like to hear or read things they disagree with, even if it is blatantly offensive. Being offended, or shocked, allows a person to look at something from a new perspective, or to quickly pass off what is seen as horrid and appalling, leaving it to be shunned and locked in a vault for no one ever to read. For example, from article it makes you reflect on what exactly you dislike about yourself caused by peers as a child making fun of you, surely everyone has had this problem, and was forced to overcome it. Or should I blame the other children for me not paying attention at hebrew school becomes I was somehow ashamed of being jewish, and if you spend the time to think about it, its silly to blame another child for something of this nature and then you can realize ah ha, its humor…or maybe you dont, in which case, massive lulz on you.

So shame on everyone who truly lacks the ability to reflect on things they read. All these diversity people come off as some of the most closed minded people you could imagine, only willing to accept their initial reaction, and the reaction of their peers without any sort of reflection. Honestly, shame on you.

A comical piece: 

Why Asians Love Max Karson

Last August I moved into my new apartment in Boulder, eager to begin my first year of grad school at CU. Coming from the culturally diverse city of Boston, I expected a change. I had seen the Buff population demographics— 81.79 % caucasions, meaning 18.21 % minorities, with a mere 5.96 % Asian/Pacific Islander (we’re grouped together for the benefit of those who still can’t tell us apart). After arriving for the first day of school and meeting my classmates I had the feeling that those percentages were sorely overestimated. Still, I wasn’t surprised. I’m sure whoever counted didn’t bother asking an Asian to double check their math.

I won’t lie, I was homesick for a few days. Without other Asians around, with whom could I chatter in my native language? With whom could I play video games? With whom could I eat orange chicken while laughing at the Asian-wannabe-chopstick-dr

oppers?

But then I began to adapt. I started meeting new people, white people, Max Karson people. And you know what? I realized that I’d struck gold. Racial tensions? Please. I love white people, always have. For that matter I love black people, too. And brown people, red people, fellow yellow people, all-colors-of-the-rainbow people. But I now realize that I love one particular group of people more than all the others. I hate to discriminate, but I have to give a shout out to my new favorite people on the CU campus—Max Karson people. In fact, I love Max Karson people so much, that ever since meeting them, my new life goal is to be just like them.

Phase 1:

Everyday I go home, see my rice cooker, and lament the fact that I can only use it to cook healthy, well-balanced meals. I would love for you to replace it with your George Foreman Grill. Or maybe you could even show me how to make your American version of my Chinese food. Perhaps then I could eat like your people and enjoy all those protein-enhanced, fat-rich meals. The new diet could even make me grow. Lateral expansion would be preferable since it would make me look more like you.

Phase 2:

In the spirit of this visual emulation, I’m working on the right look. So when you see those blank stares, just know that they’re only a feeble attempt to immitate the glassy-eyed dullness I desire. I revere that stoned look so much that I often look down to avert eye contact out of respect for your enhanced mental state.

Phase 3:

Next, I have to be able to hang on the weekends like you. So when I stiffly hop around on Dance Dance Revolution, it’s only because I want so badly to learn your smooth moves so I can go out to the club and get crunk. While I’m there though, I’ll have to avoid drinking myself sick (likewise at the frat-party beerpong tables). I don’t mind the vomiting or passing out, but that Asian glow sure is embarassing.

Phase 4:

The final stage is by far the toughest: thinking like you. I haven’t quite perfected it yet, so I still manage to differentiate between those black-haired, slanty-eyed individuals. But I’m working on it; soon I’ll be able to see a sign over every face reading, “Beware, robot Asian.” Class is even harder. I find myself covering my math test with my notebook because I’m ashamed that I can’t overcome the hardwiring that forces me to crunch all those numbers in my head—accurately. Despite my best efforts, I just can’t seem to achieve your mediocrity.

So there you have it Max Karson people, my four step plan to assimilate into white America. In time, if I’m lucky, a new Asian import will arrive at CU, look at me, and think to themselves, “where are all the Asian people, all 5.96% of them?” To break out of their isolation, they’ll be forced to talk to me, and realize that I am a Max Karson person. And perhaps if I’m convincing enough, they’ll walk away and realize, just as I did, that they love Max Karson people.