
Alison Kim
Marie:
Let’s start with some questions about you, when and
where were you were born, your family background.
Kim: I was born in
1955 in Honolulu. My mom is Chinese and my dad is
Korean. On the Korean side I’m second generation born in
the United States. On the Chinese side I am second and a
half. English is my first language, my mother’s first
language. She knew just a tiny bit of Chinese, and my
dad knew probably equal amounts of Korean. I lived in
Hawaii for nine months. I was a military brat; my dad
joined the service. We all went to France, I think for
two years. We spent a couple of years in France, and
then moved to California. California is really my home.
I grew up in the Monterey Bay area, outside and on the
ex-military base, Fort Ord. We went to Germany for three
years when I was in elementary school, came back and was
stationed in Georgia. We lived there for an extremely
brief time, which I was so grateful for, then came back
to southern California. I graduated from high school in
California, in the Monterey area. The town I grew up in
was really small. I think it was maybe six thousand
people when I was growing up.
Marie: Where was that?
Kim: Marina. It’s right outside of Fort Ord. It’s still
just dunes. Now they have a higher population because
they included part of the Fort Ord population as the
city when they were decommissioning the base. So when we
grew up it was playing in the dirt and walking to
school. It was really small.
I started working in Monterey, and I worked for a long
time before I decided at age thirty to go back to
school, to quit my job. I moved back to Hawaii for a
year, to get closer to family. I had come out earlier,
but it was a very white community, so I was wanting to
reconnect with family and my Asian culture. I knew my
grandmother on my Chinese side was getting older, so I
moved back to Hawaii, thinking I was going to live there
for
awhile, and go to school there, and do some family and
Asian lesbian research. But the island was way too small
for me.
Marie: Which island?
Kim: Oahu. Small,
just because there’s so much family. The thing my mom
told me when I went was, “Don’t flaunt it.” That’s all
she said: “Don’t flaunt it.” And that meant, don’t let
anybody know that you are a lesbian. The islands are so
small. I have second cousins, aunts, uncles, the
neighbors—you can’t really go anyplace without knowing
somebody who knows your family. To not flaunt it means
don’t be seen. So that was a little bit difficult. My
aunt and my uncle really welcomed me into their house,
and my partner at the time. I lived with them for a few
months. But it was like, oh no I can’t do this. We got
our own place but the islands were just too small. I’m
used to California where you drive for ten hours and
you’re still not out of the state, whereas in Hawaii you
drive for an hour and you’re around the island.
Moving from Marina to go to Santa Cruz was for me moving
to the big city. People laugh because now I am in San
Francisco. San Francisco has been really hard for me to
be in; moving to Santa Cruz was my stepping stone to San
Francisco. When I went to Santa Cruz it was like, God
I’m really moving to the city!
Marie: So let’s go
back just a minute. You said you came out when you were
in high school.
Kim: When I was in
high school, I probably came out to myself—I knew when I
was in junior high. We were in Germany between the fifth
and the eighth grade. And I think around the sixth or
seventh grade… You know how you hear those words about…
Well, I don’t know what words they said. They probably
said faggot all the time then. We knew that was bad.
Even though I didn’t know… Faggot is male, but in my
mind it just meant homosexual, right? I knew that it was
really scary, and that it was not a thing to be. But
also, with our neighbor upstairs… We (the daughter and
I) were kind of fooling around on the balcony, and I
thought, oh I can’t let anybody know this. I think that
was probably when I first started having that fear of
anybody knowing who I was.
Then when I was in high school, when I was fourteen, I
had my first sexual experience with a woman. I wasn’t
really out. It was sort of like—okay, you did this and
it was done, and you never said anything about it. Then
when I was a senior, seventeen, that’s when I came out
to myself. I was in a relationship with two other Asian
women at the time, which today to me is totally amazing,
because it took years afterwards to find other Asian
lesbians. But at that time I still thought I was not one
of “them,” (lesbian) because the only image of lesbians
was the butch diesel dyke, and that’s what people talked
about. Also, it was in the early-1970s, so there was
women’s liberation and bra burning, political activism,
protesting the Vietnam War. All things I believed in,
but knew a lot of people did not. So all of those things
combined made for a very hard time coming out. But I was
in a very private relationship until 1980, when I
finally found a lesbian community. It took many, many
years.
Marie: A lesbian
community where?
Kim: In Monterey.
Actually before that, in the late-1970s, I was taking
classes at Monterey Peninsula College. I had taken a
humanistic psychology class, and one of the course field
trips was that we went to a retreat at Pajaro Dunes.
There were all these people and I was totally wigged
out. We did some Gestalt therapy. And I’m going, okay,
this is a little intense because this woman couldn’t let
go of her mother, and they were trying to get her to
throw this blanket (which represented her mother) across
the room, and she couldn’t. And she’s crying, and we’re
all sitting around in this circle. There was this guy
who was coming on to me. He was really nice. I liked
him; he was a friend. But it made me question my own
sexuality. What’s going on? I knew I was a lesbian.
Actually I had been in therapy for a little while
dealing with other issues. I had a really bad therapist
who was a military Freudian therapist, and basically
said that my problem was being homosexual. Anyway, at
this retreat I came out. I got into the center (of the
circle) and I came out. I said, “I am a lesbian. Will
you accept me for who I am?” One of my partners at the
time was at the retreat and decided she had to leave.
She couldn’t even stay. But when I came out everybody
around the circle, of course, said, “Yes, we accept you
for who you are.” In my mind I was thinking, this is
such a sham. That’s what they’re going to say. They have
to say yes, because we are sitting here in this
classroom and we are all supposed to be evolved people.
So I didn’t really buy it. But there’s this one person
in particular who said, “Only if you accept me, because
I am too.” I was like, yes! I’ve got a soulmate here.
Someone I can talk to. But she was so removed. She was
in her own thing. She had been out for awhile. She had
been out in the Monterey community. I tried to talk to
her and she was just not really approachable.
I think it was a few years later that I saw an ad in the
Monterey Herald, just a regular newspaper. It said
something about a women’s newspaper. So I said, let me
order one of
these. I also remembered this woman from the retreat. I
got her address and drove by her house and left a note
in her mailbox, “Remember me; I’d like to talk to
somebody.” I was totally isolated and alone. She didn’t
call me directly but she actually sent me a newspaper,
which was Demeter (the women’s newspaper). She sent a
copy to my house and it got there the day after I had
seen the ad in the Monterey Herald. I said, this is
fast! But then it turned out that she had sent it. I did
go to her house and meet her, and talked to her a little
bit. She told me that there was a community in Monterey.
That’s how I got hooked up and became really involved
with the newspaper, and with the community. Just jumping
in and doing…
That’s the first time I started writing. I didn’t really
have confidence in what I did. I didn’t think that I
could write. I wrote a lot of poetry in high school, but
my oldest brother sort of squashed me. He said, “Who
ever told you you could write?” Granted, I go back and
read some of this stuff and it’s pretty elementary, the
beginnings of love, nature, friendship, but actually a
lot of the stuff I was writing… I’d do a lot of thinking
and it was a lot of philosophy. I used to read
Siddhartha and Kahlil Gibran. That was my style. Be Here
Now. All the books of the time. Actually, a lot of the
love poems I wrote to my “best friends” in high school.
Marie: So you were
writing newspaper articles, too.
Kim: Yes. That’s
when I first started. I had never been to a women’s
festival. I came out into a lesbian community in 1980. I
had never traveled alone. I was always kind of fearful.
I went to the National Women’s Music Festival when it
was still in Urbana (Illinois). I traveled by myself. I
had a few savings bonds. I didn’t have much money at the
time. I was working; I had a good job. I didn’t have
many savings. But I had met this woman and we got to be
kind of tight. We were sitting at her house and she
said, “There’s this women’s festival.” I said, “Really?
I’ve never heard of this. Why don’t we go?” This is that
burst of fresh energy. Let me have whatever I can have.
I said, “Come on. I’ll buy your ticket!” I didn’t want
to go by myself. I just thought, anything’s possible.
She ended up not being able to go and I ended up going.
She said, “Oh, you’re going to have to write an article
for us for the paper.” And I’m like, “You don’t just ask
anybody to write an article. This is a newspaper! There
are reporters, people who do these things.” She said,
“No, you have to do this.” So I took it very seriously.
When I went there I wrote an article and it got
published. They said, “This is great. Thank you for
doing this.” And from there I just kept writing
different things.
Marie: This was for
which newspaper?
Kim: For Demeter .
Then I started helping them with the calendar. I’m sort
of a behind-the-scenes person. I never liked to be the
organizer or the leader. I would do a lot of the grunt
work and footwork. I worked with different women on the
calendar for about a year and a half. I took some
photographs for some of the issues. I had a friend who’s
an elementary school teacher, whom I loved. She was
doing what I considered some pretty radical things at an
elementary school in Salinas, and she was a lesbian. At
Halloween they had a little parade with the kids and
chanted, “Witches Heal.” They didn’t have Valentine’s
Day. She had Susan B. Anthony Day. And instead of
bringing candy she’d bring peanuts for the kids. She
started a peer therapy group (without calling it that)
for the kids, because a lot of the kids had issues at
home. She was doing this big Women’s History Day thing
so she brought me in and said, “This is a writer for
this newspaper, and she’s going to do some photos.” So I
stayed there and wrote about her class and took photos.
They did this collage. The collage ended up going to
Sacramento to be displayed in the Capitol Building for a
little while. The kids were really happy. It was great
because they got that pride. I was like, hey you know
this ain’t bad! When the article and photos got in the
paper, she took thirty issues so that the kids could all
see it. This was about their class and their teacher and
what they were doing.
Marie: That’s great.
So when you decided to go to Santa Cruz, I wondered
whether you thought of it as a more welcoming community
to lesbians and gays? What year did you come to UCSC?
Kim: In 1985. I
moved to Santa Cruz in 1984. I think in 1981 I met Karen
Belford. She’s from Santa Cruz. She was very active in
the women’s community. She used to play guitar. This is
how I moved to Santa Cruz. At Cabrillo College they had
a [International] Women’s Day thing. It probably was
1980. A lot of things happened for me in those first few
years. They had a women’s festival. That was actually
the first women’s festival I had been to, not the one in
Illinois. They had different performers and different
speakers. I was just sitting there by myself. I had just
broken up with my partner. The three of us were together
in high school. After two years Audrey ended up getting
married to a man, someone I worked with. Then it was
Shirley and I, and we stayed together until 1980. We
broke up in 1980 and she got married to a man. That one
was really difficult. With Audrey it wasn’t so
difficult. Audrey and I stayed friends forever after
that. Until she died. She had a lot of health issues
that came up because she couldn’t reconcile her
sexuality. She was really a lesbian. I guess you could
say she was bisexual but she really in her heart I think
was a lesbian. She didn’t tell me until a few years
after we split that the only reason she got married was
because she thought it would settle all her feelings
that she had for women. She was trying to do the right
thing by her family and by society. Instead, she got
really sick. She ended up having kidney disease and all
kinds of stuff. She ended up living for six years
afterwards. They had given her one year. She was a
fighter. She was always a fighter. So that was hard.
So Shirley and I had been together and we broke up in
1980. It wasn’t because I wanted to. I was totally
devastated. I was all alone and for the last ten years
we had done everything together every day. We lived
together for awhile and then we both moved back in with
our parents, but still saw each other every day. All of
a sudden it wasn’t there. We were both different people.
So I was in a really low place, and I went to this
festival and was just sitting there, kind of sad, but
excited at the same time. I had never been around this
many lesbians. And you didn’t know how many were
lesbians, but at the time the women’s movement was
really code for lesbian. I was just amazed. I saw all
these women walking around. Some were together and some
were not. So I was excited, and I was sad because I was
there alone, didn’t know anybody and I also didn’t have
a partner. I was watching the performers. There were
some flamenco dancers and they were terrific. Then after
the flamenco dancers came this single woman with an
acoustic six-string guitar. She bounded onto the stage
and said, “How do you follow something like that?” She
was really filled with energy. That was Karen. She
seemed just so down-to-earth, and very open. I saw her
outside later on and talked to her. I ended up really
crying and saying, “I’m so alone in this house and I’ve
never… And I’m so excited about being in this women’s
community, and I don’t know what’s going on.” She just
was the sweetest person and talked to me for awhile and
said, “Whenever you need to talk…” We became friends and
talked for a little bit after that. So I already knew
there was this festival going on in Santa Cruz. They’ve
got things happening. Karen was really great. She told
me about other things that were happening in Santa Cruz.
So yes, I knew that Santa Cruz was a gay/lesbian
friendly place. Plus it was closer to San Francisco,
which I wanted to be part of.
By the time I moved to Santa Cruz, I was really looking
at my cultural identity. Different things happened. I
wrote one article in Demeter about racism, and was
feeling kind of isolated. There was in Monterey an
invisible women’s community. There were three women of
color and I was one of them. It was exciting because I
could affirm my lesbian identity. But then it started to
be where I felt like hey, there’s another part. Plus, I
was
trying to expand my own identity of who I was as being
Asian. I’ve always identified more Chinese than Korean
because I’ve known the Chinese [part of my] family more.
I was doing funny little things, like I knew when we
used to go to Chinese restaurants they would always hold
the bowl of rice by their mouth and just scoop it in. So
I started eating my food like that, holding it and just
scooping it in. I could down four bowls of rice at one
time, thinking okay, now I’m more Chinese because I can
do this.
Santa Cruz was that stepping stone to San Francisco
where I thought, well there’s a bigger Asian lesbian
community. The Monterey area has a good-sized Asian
community but it’s… I don’t know how to describe it. In
Pacific Grove, in Monterey they had a large Japanese…
They were second or third generation, settled in, very
comfortable, and very conservative, I would say. I was
thinking, I can’t be here and be a lesbian and be out.
Plus, we knew a lot of people. My mom and my dad were
very gregarious. The Hawaiian community, everybody knew
who’s who. So that was a little hard. I thought coming
to Santa Cruz is a stepping stone to be that much closer
[to San Francisco].
In that whole period Chris was exploring her Latina
lesbian identity, and I was exploring my Asian lesbian
identity. We were housemates. I had moved into this
house. It was a lesbian feminist house. It used to be a
white lesbian feminist house. Then it transitioned to
being a women of color household.
Marie: In Santa
Cruz.
Kim: Yes. Chris
moved into the house after me. She was a student at UC
and I wasn’t a student yet. I’d drive to San Francisco
every weekend, because I had heard about the Asian
lesbian community. I started going to these meetings.
The community in San Francisco was still in its
beginning stages, especially compared to where it is
today. There was a lot of political strife. I jumped in
right at the time when a big split was happening. That
was a little bit hard, but at the same time I was in a
place where I could go in a room and they were not only
lesbian, they were all Asian. It was pretty amazing.
Chris and I started coming to San Francisco together.
She’d go off to her Latina lesbian stuff; I’d go off to
my Asian lesbian stuff; and then we’d go back to Santa
Cruz. It was a really great time of mutual support and
trying to find who we were in the community.
Marie: What was the
split that was happening within the Asian lesbian
community?
Kim: It was about
visibility and ideology. Who do we serve? It was about
political action versus social… It was like, “We can’t
all be political. We don’t want to be. We just want to
get together and be together.” Others were saying,
“We’re not political enough. We’re just doing this.” So
there was a big split. Actually that group was the group
that started the newspaper Phoenix Rising, which was in
print for a long time. Originally the group was called
Asian Women. Then they became the group Phoenix Rising.
Then they transitioned to the Asian Pacific Lesbian
Bisexual Network—APLBN. They sort of took it over. At
some point there was a group called API Sisters. Then it
shifted. Someone kept the newsletter going for awhile. A
different group took it over. The people in the original
group went into these different groups and then they had
the APLBN and then the NN, which was the national
network versus the local network. Now there are so many
groups in San Francisco—a Mandarin group, a Korean
group, a Vietnamese group, a Japanese group.
Marie: The Asian
group split up into these different caucuses?
Kim: I wouldn’t say
the group split, but that new groups formed to address
specific identities. Then there are younger groups.
There’s this group—APIQWTC, “APICutesy” they called
themselves. That’s supposed to be an umbrella group of
organizations. Then they have a group called Quack—for
young queer girls. They have AQUA for [people] under
twenty-five years old. There’re just so many…
Marie: So what made
you stay in Santa Cruz rather than come up here to go to
school?
Kim: This was the
city. It was too big. It was exciting, but I would have
felt totally lost. Santa Cruz still had that small town
feeling. I still feel like you can walk down the block
and it’s just like the block in my little neighborhood.
Whereas San Francisco was—the city. I didn’t know
districts. I didn’t know where anything was. You were so
anonymous, and I’m not really used to that. It’s even
hard now being that anonymous. We know two of our
neighbors, but we are not really friends. We talk to a
few others.
I wanted to go back to school. Two dreams I had when I
was young were to be a writer and an artist. I always
thought writers and artists lived on the fringe. I
thought that’s why I wanted to be one, because I always
found myself a little bit different, not different in a
bad sense, but wanting to not just be like everybody, to
have a different way of thinking, I guess, a different
way of looking at things. That’s who I thought artists
and writers were. I really didn’t know just how much on
the fringe I was going to be when I came out. It wasn’t
just the artist, writer stuff. It was a lot more than
that.
Chris was taking a women’s studies class. I had taken a
women’s studies class at Monterey Peninsula College from
Paula Butterfield. And when I was in Monterey, in the
area, Bettina [Aptheker] and her partner Kate [Miller]
used to teach these women’s history classes. But it
wasn’t school. It was at the Pacific Grove Art Center.
It was upstairs. Hardwood floors. Just a big open space.
There would be around twenty women there. Bettina would
just talk, and tell these stories about different women
in history. I hated history. I’ve always hated history.
It was like history, what is that? You remember these
dates and places that you have no connection to. It
didn’t mean anything to me. I never could connect
history to anything. And all of a sudden Bettina is
here, and her and Kate are talking about all these
different women, and these women mean something to me
because they were lesbian, or they were pioneers in what
they were doing. They were strong, not just physically
strong, but they were strong to live the lives that they
were living. I thought, this is history? Okay, I can
hang with this. But I also knew, this is history but
this is women’s studies history. So I knew there was the
women’s studies program in Santa Cruz.
Chris was in women’s studies, and I wasn’t a student.
This is how it all began. I always tell this story and
she goes, “It’s not true.” But my truth is that Chris
was busy learning about herself so she wasn’t going to
class. She was in Bettina Aptheker’s Women and Culture
class. I would sit in on the class all the time. I knew
Bettina from Monterey, and Bettina was cool with me
going in. That’s where I met Dafna Woo. She was in the
class at the time. And I don’t know if you knew Ruth
Chin?
Marie: I did.
Kim: I adopted Ruth
as my grandmother. Ruth was great. I just loved Ruth.
She was such an inspiration to me. She told me that she
was in the Seniors-in-Residence program and that she was
going to go to China, and maybe when she graduated she
might get into a little politics. I’d always heard that
you’re never too old to learn, but after meeting Ruth I
really believe it. Now I don’t have time because I’m
raising the kids and working. But when I retire, I’d
still like to learn some more and maybe go back to
school, or at least be at school. You were also an
inspiration to me, and made me consider library science.
I’ve told you this many times. You being at the library.
The library is full of resources and all these people
who are doing these amazing things, but you don’t know
unless you are there. And also, what’s available and how
you can help guide and be part of it.
Being in Bettina’s class was just like—hey, this isn’t
bad. I can do this kind of school. I’ve always been
really great at school. I’ve always gotten really good
grades but I didn’t like the pressure of the grade
thing. I also liked Santa Cruz because of the narrative
evaluations. I wanted to go to school for myself. It was
sort of to get a degree, because I was the first one in
my family to go to college and to get a degree. But
mostly it was about me, and giving myself the
opportunity to write and to do art. So I did the double
major of art and women’s studies. Santa Cruz has such a
strong focus on writing. It didn’t matter if you took
the astronomy class, which I did as one of my core
classes, you still have to write a paper. Or statistics,
women’s studies, anthropology. I got to really learn a
lot.
Women’s studies was great because it afforded me the
opportunity to pursue whatever I wanted. I was already
beginning to look at Asian lesbian writing. I really
wanted to find more and just record it. I didn’t know at
the time how much I wanted to do. It started out with
having a need for myself. When I’d find one or two
things it was like, oh terrific. Let me have this. This
is great! Look what I found! It led me to want to find
more.
At the first Women’s Music Festival on the West Coast
that I attended, I organized a workshop. I went around
the camp, and any Asian lesbian I saw I said, “Okay,
we’re going to have a thing here. We’re going to meet at
this tree,” or whatever. I think I found six Asian
lesbians and we all met and shared writings. Everybody
said, “Wow, that’s really cool!” They didn’t know that
things existed, or they also felt like they were the
only one. I mean six of us was pretty amazing to me. It
was pretty amazing at the time. That was even before I
started coming to San Francisco. I think that 1980 is
when I first came out in the community, and that’s when
I heard about these festivals. 1981 was probably my
first festival. Probably 1981 and 1982 is when I started
coming to San Francisco.
Marie: That was
before you started at UCSC.
Kim: Yes. The reason
I am remembering that, is that I remember us all saying
we felt like the only ones in the world.
Marie: Once you got
to the University, did you feel that there was a
community there, as far as Asian/Pacific Islander
lesbians?
Kim: No. Not at all.
That was the really difficult thing. Prior to UCSC
living in Santa Cruz… In the house where I lived there
were no other Asian lesbians. People said, “Oh, have you
met Cristy [Chung]?” I said no. Chris said she had her
phone number because she had stayed with her, but she
never gave it to me. I kept hearing, “You’ve got to get
ahold of Cristy.” Cristy was one name I had heard. I
think I put an ad in Matrix Women’s Newsmagazine, and a
notice up in Bookshop Santa Cruz, at Café Pergolesi, and
up on campus, saying that I was forming an Asian lesbian
group, so anyone please contact me. The first person who
contacted me was somebody in Vacaville! I’m like, “Okay,
you are in Vacaville and you are on your way to Seattle.
What’s the connection with Santa Cruz?” But actually it
was Kaweah Lemeshewsky. She was a student from
Vacaville, and she was going to do some peace march from
Seattle. Kaweah is Japanese and Native American, so she
was involved in a lot of Native American things, but she
also wanted to connect with Asian lesbians. She was
going to be gone for the whole summer but she wanted to
connect. My desire at the time was immediate: I want
something now. “I’ll be back at the end of the summer”
seemed like such a long time. It’s hard now to put time
into perspective because I don’t really remember. But
eventually what happened was I met Kaweah. Then I moved
to Hawaii. When I came back I met Cristy, because I
happened to be at Bookshop Santa Cruz. I was supposed to
meet Chris. Chris was living in San Francisco now and
she had driven down to meet me because I had just moved
back. I heard somebody talking to her friend Cristy. I
went around the corner and said, “Are you Cristy?” We
met, and afterwards we got together. Then Willie
Wilkinson was also on campus and she knew my ex. She had
come over to the house once. And Dafna from Bettina’s
class. Somehow we all kind of connected. But we never
really formed a group. We really tried to, but it wasn’t
happening.
I wanted to get something together. So my second year at
UC we said, “Well, let’s try to do something. Let’s form
a writing group so we can start getting together.” I
don’t know if the writing group came before the book
idea, or the book idea came and we said, “Let’s start
this writing group.” So we started putting up flyers,
and did a benefit saying we wanted money because we want
to put an Asian lesbian book together.
It’s kind of funny, because it wasn’t like we had this
formal writing group. We’d bring our writing; we’d meet
at a pizza parlor. George Ow, the Chinese
philanthropist, owned one of the pizza places. He let us
meet there. I was thinking, wow this is pretty
progressive. I always think of Chinese as being so
conservative, and here we are with lesbians who are
meeting here. I don’t know whether he really knew,
whether it was a formal thing, but in my mind it seems
like he knew. Kaweah had approached him and asked if it
was okay. So we would meet there. It wasn’t a big
writing group. It usually ended up being me, Cristy, and
Kaweah. Every now and then we could maybe wrangle up
somebody else. As we heard of people in the community,
we approached them and said, “We’re doing this book,
please submit something! We’ll help you write something.
We’ll help you edit. We’ll type it. We’ll help you do
everything!” People kind of responded. Akemi Hamai was
there. She had come out recently. She wasn’t out to her
family. It was like, “Okay, you can include me.” By the
time the book came out we used her name, because she
said, “Okay, this isn’t going to be in the Japanese
community.” We said, “Okay, we’re going to have a photo
shoot.” One of us had a camera and we met at a
playground in Santa Cruz. Roberta Almerez, a
photographer, submitted some photos. And there was
another woman who was anonymous because she was planning
on moving back to her own country and she wanted to make
sure that it wasn’t going to cause any problems.
We sort of just grabbed people and said, “Please give us
something.” It wasn’t that we had this group and we were
all working together. It was like, “Okay, you have
something for us? You don’t have something for us. Okay,
come on. We’re going to help you right now get
something. Okay, we just want your picture then.
Whatever!” We wanted to do this because it was for us. I
don’t think we really thought beyond ourselves very
much. Except I know that I had this need when I
connected with Cristy to meet with other Asian lesbians,
and she was exploring her identity too.
It was not until 1987 that we got the grants from the
University to write the book. I also got the President’s
Undergraduate Fellowship to do the research. The
research [money] was for me to go to different archives
and then to go cross-country and interview people. That
was all at the same time.
Marie: And what were
the grants to do the book?
Kim: Chancellor’s
funds. [UCSC] had that Year Towards Community fund. And
we raised a little bit of money on our own. Cristy’s
mother donated a little bit of money.
I laugh, because that’s when personal computers were
barely getting started, and none of us knew how to
operate one, really, except for Kaweah. She worked in
the lab and she knew how to use a Mac. She said, “You
just type everything in and then I’ll format it.” We’re
like, “What does this mean?” It wasn’t even a layout
program. You know now you can do a whole layout and
print it out just like you want it. She just formatted
the text with bold and center text. We still cut it with
exactos and pasted it up on layout boards. I think wow,
to look back now—we spent until three in the morning
sometimes, just trying to get it done. That’s when Irene
Reti and Sarah-Hope Parmeter were really helpful to us.
Somehow Cristy knew them, and so Cristy and I, and
Sarah-Hope and Irene met at a coffeeshop, and they
literally drew on a piece of paper, “Okay, you do this
for your layout. Okay, now if you are thinking about a
book, page one goes here. Page two goes here. Page four
goes here.” I mean, [they] literally walked us through
how to do this. We took their little sample and pages of
notes and said. “Okay, this is what it’s got to look
like.”
But that year, with the fellowship, Cristy and I went
cross-country. We went to Los Angeles, to one of the
archives. Then we went cross-country, and we met women
along the way. We stayed in Chicago. We met this woman
Lola, who was a carpenter, an Asian lesbian. She was
great. On our way back we were running out of money, so
she hired us to do some carpentry work, which we had
never done in our lives. But she hired us so that we
could have a few extra dollars to get us home. There
were some great women in New York we got to stay with
for a month while we did research at the archives. From
there we went to D.C. for the March [on Washington,
D.C.]. But all along the way we had our book. We were
taking it into bookstores and taking it to people. It
had such a response. People ate it up with eagerness.
They felt, “We need this. This is so great!” I don’t
think we ever really thought about it. We thought for
ourselves, “This is great.” You always hope that people
are going to want to look at it. But I never really
understood how isolated so many of us did feel, or how
much there was lacking in print and a sense of
community. So by the time we got to Washington, D.C., we
were walking across this huge field and this woman went
up to Cristy and said, “You’re in that book, aren’t
you!” We were like, “How could this be?” This woman was
from Boston. I don’t know if she was still in school.
She probably was an intern in school to be a doctor. She
is now my gynecologist in San Francisco!
Marie: [laughter]
That’s fantastic.
Kim: She delivered
our twins. And she’s an Asian lesbian. We didn’t really
have a connection other than her, “Wow, thank you for
doing this book.” So the first time Chris and I went for
our ob appointment, I didn’t want to say, “Oh yes,
remember our book?” I was kind of nervous because of
this whole pregnancy stuff. She said, “Your book made
such an impact on me.” I said thank you, but I didn’t
know what else to say. It was amazing because the book
came out in 1987. The kids were born in 1998.
Marie: What was the
impact of Between the Lines in the Santa Cruz community,
and at the University?
Kim: I don’t know
the impact. I know that we got a lot of support from
everybody, from teachers, from staff, from the library,
from you, our friends. Everybody said things. I don’t
always take it in. That’s my thing. But it was very well
received everywhere we went. Even when we went into
bookstores, not just in Santa Cruz… Of course the
bookstores in Santa Cruz carried them. Even small
bookstores where we had no clue what the Asian
population was, they would say, “This is great.” It
started in Santa Cruz, and it carried us the whole way
coming back. The support was there. We never could have
done the book without the financial, academic, and
emotional support.
Marie: It was from
the administration on down, because you got a
chancellor’s grant.
Kim: Yes,
completely. That was the thing about [UCSC]. That’s why
I always recommend Santa Cruz to everybody. If people go
to other schools I say, “Just make sure you do what you
want to do. I never would have believed that you go to
University and do what you want to do, and get what you
want to get.” I believed you go and it’s like everything
else—they teach you something and you are supposed to
absorb it. But not that you go and do your own work and
your own research, and it becomes part of this body of
work. I didn’t really know the value of my own work
until I heard people reiterate it. I’m really proud now
that I have this body of work and it’s part of the
library, that it’s accepted as academic, scholarly, of
value. I never really could say that because it was
always so personal. It was always my own thing. It was
my search, my desire. I wanted to see myself. I wanted
to read about other people like me.
Like we were saying earlier, in San Francisco before
there was one main group and now there are subgroups.
I’ve come to an identity of being Asian, but even within
that I’ve always struggled about where I fit, because I
am Chinese and Korean. I’ve identified as more Chinese,
but now I don’t really fit in the Chinese groups because
a lot of them are
first or second generation and speak the language. I
never spoke any of the language, and my family is really
from Hawaii. So I identify with the local people. But
then, I’ve been in California so long. Unless I’m around
my mom and family I don’t really talk much pidgin. So
then I kind of don’t fit in there. I am always
struggling with my identity, about where do I fit,
either within the lesbian community, within family, or
within my social community.
Marie: You are a
mother at this point, too. That’s a whole other
identity, bringing up children. Other people don’t have
that identity or don’t always relate to that, at times.
Kim: Definitely.
Marie: Do your
parents live around here?
Kim: My father’s
dead. But my mother still lives in Marina. That’s why
Marina, the Monterey Peninsula has always been my home.
I think it will always be my home. Hawaii is my root,
but the Monterey Bay…
Marie: Has your mother always been very supportive of
your choices?
Kim: No. [laughter] Actually, when I first came out to
her, one of the first things she told me, (because I was
going through relationship angst) was, “If she wants to
leave, let her go.” That just totally upset me. Because
if it was a boyfriend, no one would ever say, “If he
wants to leave, let him go.” As if you are holding them,
right. But maybe because I was the butchier of the two.
You laugh. I always say I’m butch and everybody laughs.
But she was very femme.
My mother actually couldn’t deal with it for a long
time. I came out to my mother in 1974 or 1975. She
couldn’t deal with it. My family is not one that talks
anyway. They do not talk to each other, and they
definitely didn’t talk about feelings and emotions. So
it was very hard. She also told me, “Don’t tell your
father. He will have a heart attack and die.” So in
1980, when I came out in this community and went to the
festivals, I was very happy and beaming. I had come back
home. I had bought… You know, when you first come out
you buy all the labrysis. You’ve got your necklace. You
have everything—Tshirt [that reads] “Witches Heal.”
Everything. I had a belt that said, “Women Loving
Women.” I wore it to work and I worked at the phone
company. Every now and again someone would catch it. I’d
kind of wear it like I was proud, but I’d kind of be
cringing and hoping nobody sees it. I’d walk backwards
so that I wouldn’t have to turn around.
My dad said, “Something is making her happy.” He didn’t
really know. But I could tell that they were happy that
I was happy. So I decided that was the year to tell my
dad. My dad just said, “So what else is new?” I thought,
wow. But then later on, when he was drinking, he blamed
my mother. It was all her fault. A few years later I
talked to him, when he got more comfortable with it. My
mom never could say the word lesbian until the
mid-1980s. When I talked to her she would run out of the
room and say, “Oh, something’s in the kitchen,” or,
“I’ve got to go check this,” and just leave me on the
bed and just not come back. So she didn’t deal with it
very well. She said, “Don’t flaunt it.” My dad told me
later that his heart was really pounding very hard, and
it was racing, and he just didn’t know why. I consider
my parents alcoholics. My dad, when he was drinking,
said, “You’re beautiful, it doesn’t matter.” He said,
“Not outside. You are really beautiful inside. You are
my daughter and I love you.” I was both saddened and
heartened at the same time. I was happy that he said
that, but I was also very sad because... You have to
wait until you are drunk before you could say something.
So it was this give-and-take thing.
My mom really surprised me. It was the Book Collection
Contest. Everything happened in 1987.
Marie: I was going
to ask you about that. This is the McHenry Library Book
Collection Contest.
Kim: I don’t know
how it all began.
Marie: I think I
suggested that you enter it because there are some
monetary prizes, and I knew about your research.
Kim: I think you’re
right because I wouldn’t have heard about it any other
way.
Marie: Yes, because
usually students didn’t pick up on it, so when we were
at the reference desk we would say, “Hey, you have
something going. Why don’t you write an essay? You might
win a little money.”
Kim: Okay. Because I
know I wouldn’t have even thought about it. Not only
would I not have thought of a book collection contest, I
wouldn’t have thought that my subject was appropriate.
That’s a big thing. So to get your encouragement…I
really think that you were at the beginning of me taking
off and having this huge expansion, because without that
kind of support, and encouragement I would have
thought—who cares? I care. Cristy cares, and the other
six Asian lesbians that I’ve met care. But I’m not one
to say, “I’m in a group with all these Asian lesbians
and look what I’m doing.”
The Book Collection Contest preceded the book. That was
the start. You told me that this had value. People are
talking about this great literature and you are saying,
“Okay, you have these magazine articles and a couple of
books here and a couple of newsletters.” Someone wants
to know about that? Right. This is a university. I know
there’re not a lot of Asian lesbians there. Who’s going
to care about Asian lesbians? So you were extremely
instrumental in having me do that. I don’t know if you
remember that when you read the essay you said, “Let’s
have Michael Warren…” He took a look at it and helped me
edit it. He was a professor of literature. I never
really thought that there was any possibility. I think I
was encouraged that you had encouraged me. I just felt
like, hey there’s something to this. But it still didn’t
sink in. Then when I won, it was like wow, I can’t
believe this! She was right. There’s something to this.
I wanted everybody to see it.
I told my mom about it. She was so excited. She wanted
to tell her friends. They do this annual trip. She
belongs to the Nisei VFW. They take an annual trip to
Reno. They all ride on the bus, and party on the bus,
and chat and drink and eat. She said she wanted to tell
her best friend, who is Chinese, that I had won this
award, and that I had written this essay. I said, “But
Mom, that would be coming out.” I knew that she didn’t
want anybody to know. She said, “No, it doesn’t mean
that.” With my mother, any time the word lesbian was
there it meant something. But all of a sudden it didn’t
mean that. She was just so proud that it was recognized,
and that it was valued by academia. She said, “No, I’m
going to tell my friend. It doesn’t mean that you are a
lesbian. It means that’s what you wrote about.” So that
was one of the first times that she was talking about
it. That was the first time she started acknowledging it
to her friends. That was her first time she ever said
something to a friend. I think she had said something to
my aunt, her sister, before. But my aunt, I say, is a
lesbian. Her brother, my uncle, was gay. My aunt doesn’t
always say that she’s a lesbian but her life and the way
that she lives it…
Marie: These are
your mother’s siblings?
Kim: My mother’s
siblings. But actually I was going to say, that’s the
first time she acknowledged it to other people. The
first time she started acknowledging it to herself was I
think in 1982, after I’d come out. They were doing some
of those witch hunts in the military at the time. I had
gone to Seneca, New York, to protest at the Seneca
Women’s Peace Encampment, so I had gone cross-country by
myself. I was going to different peace encampments along
the way. I was headed to New York and ended up staying
in New York for a couple of months. I don’t know how I
managed because I get heat stroke really easy now, and
this was in the middle of the summer, 107 degrees. I got
mosquito bites. Dry cornfields. I was on this
hypoglycemic diet, non-dairy. I was going through all
kinds of stuff all at once. But when I was out there she
was sending me articles from the newspaper, either about
Seneca or about the stuff that was going on in Long
Beach at the time. I was like wow, my mom is noticing
this lesbian thing and sending me stuff. That was her
way of being supportive of me. My mom is not one who
emotes a lot or who will send me a lot of stuff or talk
about it. So for her to send it was this major opening.
Marie: Perhaps the
fact that it was university recognition. For someone who
had not been at the university, that must have been…
Kim: No, it was.
Absolutely. I know in me it’s really strong, this
establishment or authority figure. In school it’s always
the teacher and we are just the students. You always
have this high respect for any position. So to be
recognized by the University is this major
acknowledgement. At the time I was still pretty naive
myself. The University moves so fast. You are going from
one thing to the next. You don’t get so deep into
things. I mean you do, but you don’t. So with the
President’s Undergraduate Fellowship I said, “I got it!
Yes.” But I didn’t understand what that really means. I
look back, and I say, that was pretty good. And at one
point earlier I had an application for a Mellon
fellowship. But I didn’t know to act on it. I could have
tried to do something like that. I was like oh wait, now
I am too late.
Marie: I’d like to
ask more about your experience at UCSC. For example,
were you aware of faculty members who were gay or
lesbian? You mention Bettina Aptheker. I assume she was
always out.
Kim: Bettina I knew.
Other ones I don’t remember knowing. There was one who I
always had a question about. I found out later that she
was, actually, and she was Asian too.
Marie: Did you have some contact with her around those
issues? Either being gay or being Asian?
Kim: Yes, I took an Asian-American women class from her.
I think there were two or three Asian lesbians in the
class. We were very vocal. As a group, we were always
talking about different Asian stereotypes. We said,
“We’re not going to be those quiet Asian stereotypes.”
It was an evening class and I remember making lots of
noise after class and before. Just to be loud. Playing
with the professor. Actually I wrote a piece in class
about my mother and Pearl Harbor, because she was in
Hawaii at that time. She told me, “Oh, you should write
more of these, and you should try and publish this.”
Again, this is another one of those things—”Okay, yeah,
sure.” I thought there was lots of stuff written. But
there weren’t as many personal stories, which I didn’t
realize [until] later on.
Marie: Was there
lesbian content in the class to start with?
Kim: We brought it
up. We included it in everything. But it wasn’t part of
the curriculum. It was Asian-American Women’s History.
Marie: Which
lesbians are part of.
Kim: But we weren’t
part of that. She did the traditional economic,
political, social factors. But we always made sure we
included it. We had to do some scenarios in class, and
so we wrote a scenario with lesbians, of course. There
were actually some Asian women, non-lesbian, who were
very supportive and really friendly to work with. I have
fond memories of them, because sometimes I think coming
out as an Asian lesbian within your own community there
is a stigmatization. We don’t want to cross those lines.
We worked closely with some other Asian women who were
totally comfortable with working around these issues.
One of them played a lesbian in the scenario that we
wrote. The reason why I said that I didn’t know if the
professor was lesbian or not, was because of her
ideology. I read something of hers later on, about not
trying to influence. That’s why she was closeted, or
maybe because she was new to the campus.
Marie: But you felt
comfortable as an out lesbian?
Kim: Yes. We were
like raging. We were really coming into the community.
The whole stuff with the book collection, traveling to
different Asian lesbian conferences. Organizations were
starting to happen. I think because of the work we did
at UC, people started to know a little bit about us, so
that even when the organizing started to happen in San
Francisco, it happened jointly: San Francisco-Santa
Cruz. One of the retreats that we had for the Asian
lesbian groups happened at the UC campus. People stayed
in dorms and everything. It was because of the
connections that were made with us. There was a strong,
vocal group of Asian lesbians in Santa Cruz. There
wasn’t really a big group, it was just loud and vocal. I
don’t know that I knew that many professors who were
lesbian, but they were all very supportive.
Marie: Are there
particular people who stood out for you?
Kim: In the American
studies department, Ann Lane. She was one of my sponsors
for one of my independent studies. Bettina, of course,
because she sponsored I don’t know how many. Kay Metz,
who also sponsored independent studies for me in the art
department. I don’t think I did out lesbian stuff in the
art department. But she was very supportive. Like we
brought Mayuma Oda down to the campus. There was a woman
named Amy; there was Cristy, and Akemi, and a couple of
other Asian women. We tried to bring different speakers
down. And we always had the support of women’s studies.
It was when Nicolette [Czarrunchick] was still kind of
new in the women’s studies office. She hadn’t been there
that long.
Marie: You didn’t
teach any student-directed seminars?
Kim: No, I had
wanted to, but I was too chicken.
Marie: Did you work
at all with the folks at the Women’s Center?
Kim: Beatriz
Lopez-Flores was the director of the Women’s Center. I
used to go hang out there some. I did my art show there.
I didn’t do many things like organized events there,
because I wasn’t living on campus; I spent a lot of time
not on campus. I did a lot of independent studies, spent
a lot of time traveling and doing other kinds of work.
Marie: Other than
Bettina’s class and this Asian-American class which you
brought some lesbian content into, was there any other
class you took that had lesbian or gay content?
Kim: Not really.
Shelly Errington in anthropology. She did the South
Asian women. There was no lesbian content. But I could
read homosexual overtones in some of the literature and
some of the writing. For my final paper I did something
that used the basis of some of the religious and
spiritual stuff in the community. Unfortunately I never
got that paper back so I don’t know what she thought
about it. To this day I’m still really bummed about it
because I still want to know.
Marie: Were there
any LGBT organizations happening when you were here?
Kim: The Center was
there, but I wasn’t involved with it at all. I don’t
know how much it was going, I think because we were so
focused on getting Asian lesbians together. I know that
there were some conflicts going on at the LGB Center
because Cristy was involved a little bit, and her ex was
really involved. Cristy was pissed off a lot. So I said,
“Okay, we don’t really want to go there. They are doing
their thing and we are really focused in our own
direction.”
Marie: It didn’t
seem like the kind of place where you could start the
group and meet there?
Kim: No. Actually,
you know what we started? We started LOCA [Lesbians of
Color Alliance] at one point. I think that was the last
year. It was at the very end. Plus, my memory is gone.
After forty it sort of starts going faster than it did
after thirty. [laughter] In the archive there are a
couple of flyers for LOCA. I had completely forgotten
about it until I was going through the archives and
getting it ready for the library and I said hey, that
rings a bell.
Marie: So you were
at the beginning of it. You helped start it?
Kim: I remember
being in at the beginning. I remember meeting outside of
the Whole Earth Restaurant, and talking with Amy. I
don’t know if Akemi was also involved at that time. I
remember setting up a mailbox. It was where the old
Student Center was, across from the bookstore.
Marie: So it was an
official student organization.
Kim: Yes. But much
more than that, I don’t remember.
Marie: But just that
there was a need for a lesbians of color organization.
Kim: Yes, we did
feel a need for a specific lesbians of color group,
separate from the LGB Center group. For some reason I
remember, I don’t know if it’s true or not, it was like
we started it and then it took a break for a quarter. Or
maybe we started it, and I had left because I wasn’t on
campus for a couple of quarters, and then it started up
again. I’m not sure. But for some reason I have this
recollection that it died down for a little bit. Those
were the two things that I remember organizing.
Marie: In the
community, were there any particular places that you
socialized, coffeeshops or bars or organizations?
Kim: Oh God. Do you
remember old Mona’s Gorilla Lounge?
Marie: [laughter]
Kim: Not as Asian
lesbians, but this is another thing. When I first came
out in 1980, I had never gone to a bar in my life. In
1980, I was twenty-five. I guess that’s not that old. My
aunt used to tell me, “You should try to go to a lesbian
bar. You can meet some people.” She had gone with some
of her friends. But my image is still truck drivers;
some really butch woman is going to come to this bar,
and it’s kind of dark—all those pictures that you see.
It’s like reading an Ann Bannon book, right? Okay, I had
no clue. I had never been to any kind of bar in my life.
Plus, I’d never danced. My family, none of us have any
rhythm, so that’s part of the reason why we don’t dance.
And none of us ever went to any school dances. No one’s
ever gone to a prom. No one’s ever gone to any dance
function.
They said, “Well, do you want to go up to this place,
Mona’s Gorilla Lounge?” So I went up there. There were
holes in the dance floor; that’s how bad it was. There
were a few holes in the dance floor on the back side.
But that was my first experience. All of my friends were
dancing. In those days I did get kind of wild. Then they
closed down and became Cha Cha’s. Then there was that
Dragon Moon, where we used to hang out. Most of the
lesbians of color, we’d all go to the Dragon Moon. It
used to be a bar. Maybe on Soquel? It was a dance bar,
and we used to go there a lot. A big old dark dance
floor with mirrors on one side. We’d just go there and
dance hard for a few hours and then go back home. Then
later on in my Santa Cruz days there was the Blue
Lagoon.
Marie: Was it a
lesbian bar?
Kim: I think it was
a lesbian/gay bar. Maybe it was a mixed place, but we
never had any problems being there.
Marie: Either at
UCSC, or before when you were coming out, were there any
books or people who had a particular impact on you. You
just talked about Ann Bannon. [laughter]
Kim: That was fun. That came afterwards. This Bridge
Called My Back. Finding Barbara Noda’s first books of
poetry, Strawberries, and to realize she was from
Watsonville. She was local, rural, Japanese. That was
pretty amazing. I couldn’t miss Kitty Tsui’s book. There
are so many pieces in there that were reprinted
everywhere. And the magazines I always loved Connexions.
That was out of Oakland and prints no longer, right?
Marie: Yes.
Kim: They were doing
translations. That was amazing.
Marie: They
published those two lesbian issues that were so
important.
Kim: Yes, writings
about lesbians in their home countries. And Lesbian
Connection. I still get Lesbian Connection to this day.
It’s just fun to read because it’s every lesbian’s
writing—down home writing that anybody can read. You
don’t always agree with what’s being said, but there
really is an exchange. You get very different
viewpoints, different sides. There is very rarely any
Asian lesbian stuff in there. I read it through all the
time. Every now and then there will be a reference.
There are probably a lot of people like me who read it.
It’s just not like we’re always writing about Asian
lesbian issues.
There was one article in This Bridge Called My Back, one
of the very first by an Asian lesbian. I think that was
Kitty Tsui? And Barbara Noda. And just the local papers.
Matrix at the time, because it was talking about the
local lesbian issues.
Marie: There wasn’t
really any strictly lesbian paper?
Kim: I would read
Matrix to see what was going on, because there was
always the calendar. I was much more involved with
Demeter and Plexus in the Bay Area.
Marie: Did you write
for Plexus?
Kim: No, I think I
submitted something once. A poem or a letter. And off
our backs. Then I used to read Sojourner from Boston. I
had subscriptions to all of those at the time. It was
good because it had wide coverage. off our backs always
had the international section also. Sojourner I got
because I had a long-distance relationship with somebody
who lived in Boston. Another great book that I really
liked was Nice Jewish Girls: A Lesbian Anthology. That
was one of the first anthologies. When Compañeras came
out I met one of the editors. I thought it was
important. When I saw Nice Jewish Girls I was really
impressed. I had a lot of Jewish women friends and a lot
of Jewish women in my life and I thought when I read
that book that it was great. Here were these women… It
was very specific. They’ve got their own book. There’s a
place to read and for me to learn a little bit more.
I think that’s sort of how our anthology came to be. On
a much smaller scale but thinking: “Look at this. Where
are the Asian lesbians? We need something too. Look at
this.” Not just because we are entitled to one, but
because it’s really nice to see ourselves and for other
people to see us. For us to see each other, more than to
see ourselves.
Marie: Where is the
anthology for Asian lesbians? There hasn’t been one?
Kim: There are
several anthologies that came out after ours.
Marie: Do you think
there is one pivotal one like Compañeras or Nice Jewish
Girls?
Kim: I don’t think
they were specifically lesbian. Women Hold Up Half the
Sky, that’s South Asian women. There’s another one
published by Sister Vision in Canada.
Actually going back to the connections and what we did
at UC, Willie and I put together a proposal for putting
together an anthology, to do a whole book. We were
hoping to have it be a bigger thing. But that didn’t
happen. I don’t remember if that came before or after
Between the Lines. I think it might have come after. We
always talked about it. Between the Lines got such a
great reception. That book is still requested because
it’s never been marked out of print, so we still get
library requests for it.
Marie: Can you make copies?
Kim: No, I can’t.
The book was used in some university classes also. At
one point somebody had requested twenty copies. I wrote
them to say, I don’t have the actual book but I can copy
it and spiral bind it if that’s what you want. So that’s
what I did. I did twenty of those one time for a class.
Even though it was well received and people are still
looking at it, Between the Lines was the voices of just
a few of us. It wasn’t as broad as it could have been.
It could be very broad because there are so many
different groups and different experiences. There are
immigrants. If you are first generation, second
generation, third generation. Even if you are first
generation, whether you were born or raised in
Chinatown, or born and raised in Hawaii, or in Kansas,
or adopted or biracial. There are so many experiences.
The five of us did represent a lot [of diversity]—
Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Hapa, Filipina, South Asian.
It just so happened that way. It could have been bigger.
But it was good.
Marie: Is that
something you might like to tackle in the future? Have
you thought about that?
Kim: Yes, I always
have so many projects in mind you would not believe it!
Marie: Tell me some
of the projects you have in mind.
Kim: Well, I still
need to update that bibliography that’s with the
archive. The one I turned in was for right then, and I
realized there is a lot of stuff that I don’t have on
the bibliography. The title is listed but it’s not in a
bibliographic form, which to me is so much easier, so
much more accessible. So I’d like that. There is always
the oral history project/video project that I would like
to do. That’s one of my dreams. In my spare time, I put
together a whole proposal—what I’d like to do for an
oral history project, what it would take. The interview
questions. What I would need to do to set up the
interviews. Set up releases. Put together the budget,
the timeline. I’ve got this whole notebook on it. The
advertising. The publishing costs. All those details. I
am so detail-oriented. I did that at one point because
this is something I’ve wanted to do since I was at
school. Like you, I am fascinated with people’s stories.
Everybody says: “I’m nobody. I’m nothing.” But everybody
has a story. I love hearing people’s stories. And I have
a vision of having pictures. My book would be ten
volumes [laughter] because I’d like to see photographs,
even of family going back, who they are now, or of them
as a child and them now. It wasn’t that I was going to
do all the interviews, but I had it set up so that I
would arrange to have different people do the
interviews. I started to make the guidelines for the
interviewers, what I wanted.
Marie: You are very
organized.
Kim: That’s where
the double Virgo comes in.
Marie: Tell me more
about the oral history project.
Kim: I would get the
stories of Asian lesbians. I have hundreds of projects
that are focused around Asian lesbians. It’s so hard for
me now, still. I hate to confess that I’m not quite this
woman of 2000. I get confused with all of the LGBT
issues. I am still like— Asian lesbian. Asian lesbian.
If I think about it intellectually, I can broaden my
spectrum of queer experience. But I’ve always really
been focused on lesbian issues. So it’s kind of hard,
because I feel like I haven’t quite made the big leap,
you know, where everything else has gone into LGBT. I’m
still in “L”. Or it’s gone to “Q” instead and I’m still
at “L.”
So that’s one of the projects. The other side of that,
instead of doing a written project, would be to do a
video project, but doing the same thing. I love seeing
people’s lives, their parents, or their family. The API
PFLAG group just did one with the family. They had a
lesbian and a gay man, and they were talking with their
family about how it was for them to come out, and what
their experience was. The siblings talked about what it
was for them too, when their sibling came out to them,
how it was hard or not hard, or whatever.
Then another project is writing. I’d like to write a
book on the history of the small Asian lesbian groups
that have sprung up across the country and come and
gone. That’s a big project, because that would be trying
to get information from all over the place. In the age
of the internet it’s nice because you can get a lot of…
It’s not the same, but for some people it’s just much
easier in terms of time. They can be up at midnight
writing. I thought of finding all the Asian lesbian
groups on the internet and saying, “Okay, anybody please
send me a story of what groups you’ve been involved in,
and where you were, and what they were like.” I know
that everyone in that circle would have a different view
of what was in the center. So, someone’s going to be
saying, like about the San Francisco group, “Hey, that’s
not what’s going on. This is what was going on. We were
just having fun. It was a party. We were doing all this
stuff.” And I’m saying, “What was going on was that we
were trying to have political action and we were being
thwarted.” Trying to have a book that would have all
those kinds of stories.
Another book—I have lots of books in mind—is like they
have the gays and lesbians in literature, that book. I
thought I could use that as a model. But when you look
through those books there are maybe two, three Asian
lesbians in there. I know there are so many more. I
would like to do a biography/directory, a Who’s Who in
the Asian lesbian groups. It doesn’t have to be Urvashi
[Vaid] or Trinity Ordona. It would be Aly or [laughter].
It would just be different people who worked in the…
Like this woman Patty who was in Seattle. I don’t know
who she is. I’ve never met her. Her name used to spring
up in the newspaper Out and About, the small paper in
Seattle. I saw her name in that paper. She was active in
the community there.
Marie: Unsung
heroes.
Kim: Yes. From all
the research that I did at UC and all the books that are
in the collection, there are tons of books waiting to be
written. I would like to do another book of [Asian
lesbian] literature, a cross between a thesis and a
reader, so that people know that this is out there. A
literary history. In those books like the Biography of
Gay and Lesbian Literature they will list the people,
and say, “And they were published in this and this.”
Great. That leads me to say, what did they write? What
was it? I’m so glad that they were published back in the
1970s or whatever, but I’d like to see what they wrote.
All of this stuff is buried. It’s all there but it’s a
big task. And I still want to do my family. My mom is
seventy-one. She’ll be seventy-two this coming year. I
think she’s got stories still to tell. I’d like to have
some more of those family stories.
Marie: What about
your own personal story? What’s happening with you?
You’re partnered with a Latina. You have children. It’s
a biracial family, so there must be all kinds of
interesting issues.
Kim: I do think
about writing about now. I think about writing for my
kids. I think more about writing now, not from a lesbian
perspective, so much as the mother perspective. Anne
Lamott, the neurotic writer. I read some of her stuff.
She says she’s neurotic and she is neurotic, but it’s
fun to read. I kind of like that. I’m starting to write
some stories about the kids.
I’ve wanted to write my autobiography. I’ve started
several times on different things. I’ve also wanted to
write a novel with different characters who are
different parts of me. There was someone named Alison,
which is my formal name. And there was somebody else
named Aly. But then there was Kim. And there was
so-and-so. They would play all these different parts.
But then I thought, oh no, this is getting a little
scary, dissecting my psychological, emotional self! And
I’ve never written a novel before. I’ve never written
much fiction. But it’s an idea. There are lots of ideas
in there.
Marie: Are there any
particular issues that come up around being with a
Latina? I mean, you still keep your Asian identity
obviously, and your interests in terms of being an Asian
lesbian and being active.
Kim: I think at the
beginning. Now we are so much more homebodies, with the
family, so it’s not so…
Marie: It’s not like
you’re going out to organizations.
Kim: Yes. There are
still times when I’d like to, but it’s more about time
and stuff like that. Well, neither one of us have been
that active for awhile. Before we had kids, and before
we were really settled, we were a little bit more
involved. It would be, “Well, do you want to come to
this thing?” “Well you know, I don’t really know
anybody.” Those kinds of issues. In terms of us in our
relationship, it’s been so long now. I don’t know. I
think there’s more acceptance. We just know each other.
It’s more about our families. I don’t know if it’s so
much a cultural thing as, “Okay, your family is like
this, and my family is like this.” And of course it’s
cultural because of our backgrounds.
Marie: And you are
bringing up the children to know all their cultures that
are involved.
Kim: Yes, we’re
trying. As much as we know, okay? I’m really keen on the
kids growing up with Hawaii-style, and being around the
family in that way. This past few months we’ve been
spending almost every other week going down to Monterey,
which is a bit taxing. We are going at least once a
month or every three weeks. Because I want them to know
my mother. I want them to hang out with my sister-in-law
and her family, because they are the epitome of
local-style. Harriet is a granny. She’s seventy-six or
seventy-seven. She doesn’t care about anything.
Marie: This is who?
Kim: My
sister-in-law’s mother. My sister-in-law’s family I love
and adore. I call them all my sister-in-law, or my
mother-in-law, or whatever. But her family is totally
local-style. Everyone just hangs out together, sits in
the kitchen chatting, or hangs out on the couch, or
plays with the kids. They used to be really involved in
all the Hawaiian stuff. They are still involved in a
Hawaiian Club. I just like my kids to be around that. I
wanted them to have that part of my culture. That’s why
we gave them a Hawaiian middle name. Their first names
are both Spanish, and Chris feels very strongly about
that, wanting them to learn the Spanish language.
Language is not really an issue for my side because it’s
not like I want to teach them how to speak pidgin. We
spend a lot of time, as much as we can, with her family,
too. Her sister is big on teaching them different kinds
of things. The big party events we try to do bicultural.
Chris actually cooks stir fry and fried rice better than
I do. And I make the tamales and salsa.
Marie: [laughter]
Kim: So it kind of
works out.
Marie: There are
just a couple of things I wanted to ask you, and then
give you a chance to say anything further. One of them,
when you were talking about doing oral histories you
were saying you still think in the frame of Asian
lesbians. I was curious as to whether you would include
somebody who openly identified as bisexual or
transgendered. Have you thought about that?
Kim: I think about
those issues. Would I include someone? In my politically
correct state I think that I probably would. But, then
again, I don’t know. I guess it would be hard. I think
that my heart would be in having Asian lesbians and not
having bisexuals.
Marie: Are you
talking about somebody who identifies as that now? Or if
a lesbian was married before and now is in a lesbian
relationship and identifies as a lesbian?
Kim: I think, okay
they probably were married because they were following
the rules of who we were supposed to be, and now they
are a lesbian, so I would say that she’s a lesbian. But
someone who openly says, “I’m bisexual.” If they are in
a relationship with a woman, maybe. If they were in a
relationship with a man, no.
The whole transgender issue is so new to me. I’ve been
reading some things online, a listserv. There’s been
some discussion on this list about transgender issues.
Willie considers herself transgender. It’s opened up my
eyes. This year at the gay and lesbian film festival I
went to see some short films. The whole series, which I
didn’t realize, was on transgender issues. I got to hear
the personal stories. So it made a big difference. It’s
not like this category or this name. It’s the personal
stories. I heard about the struggles and how difficult
it was for many of them. And so, it was like okay, I can
get down with this. But I don’t know. There’s still some
hesitation and I’m just not sure about it.
Marie: The other
thing I wanted to talk about was the incredible archive
that you did. Can you run down why you gave it to Santa
Cruz and how you actually feel about that now?
Kim: Why I gave it
to Santa Cruz? To give back, and for preservation, and
accessibility [of the archive]. I love UC Santa Cruz. I
wish I could go back to school. I wish I could go be a
librarian like you were in Santa Cruz. I really do! I
keep thinking that… I’ve talked to Chris before
about—wouldn’t it be nice to go work at the University?
She says, “Yes, but my family is still up here.” I have
mixed feelings about Santa Cruz the place, being there,
because I had some really hard times because of a
relationship there. After I left, it was really hard.
Even when I went by there I had this feeling in my gut,
going there a few times. The last times when I’ve gone
down there, like to talk about the archive, it was fine.
But I love Santa Cruz, UC, not Santa Cruz the city. UC
gave me so much. The reason why I wanted to give it back
was because I felt like I was given so much. Different
people have different opinions. One very strong activist
in the Bay Area told me, “Why are you giving it to Santa
Cruz? Why don’t you leave it up here in the Bay Area?”
But I wanted to give back, was one of the big reasons,
because many of these opportunities I wouldn’t have had
if I hadn’t been there. I wouldn’t have gotten the
grants. I wouldn’t have done the book. I wouldn’t have
traveled. I wouldn’t have done the reader. I wouldn’t
have done any of it. Or maybe I would have. I don’t
know. But I got the financial support, the academic
support, the emotional support, so I wanted to give back
to the community. I always hear of people who go off and
they make it and they give back. I think of people who
are living in barrios and they go become a lawyer or a
teacher or something, and they come back and serve the
people. I don’t think of UCSC as like a barrio, but it’s
the same kind of feeling for me. That’s where something
was given to me, and I want to give back, not to just
give back to the University but for other people to have
access to, to be able to use the material. I also want
the material to be available. I don’t want it to get
lost. The other reason to give it to UC Santa Cruz is
because I want it to be well protected, not just not
getting lost, in the sense of being buried, but not
wanting it to get lost physically. Chris has always
known and Cristy always knew, if anything ever happened
to me (this is way before the archive), I wanted
something to happen with the collection, and I wanted it
to be sent back to UC.
Marie: How do you
feel about it now? I sent you the Cruzcat citation. Now
your name is across the world, across the internet.
Fifteen cartons, the summary: “includes books,
periodicals, and other issues important to Asian Pacific
Islander women.” And there’s a finding aid, which you
did yourself, which is absolutely wonderful. And it is
on the Online Archive of California, which means that at
a particular site that you can get into and you find
lots of materials about the history of California. So
even though yours includes more than just California,
it’s on there as a particular archive from Santa Cruz. I
just wondered if you had any feelings about it being out
there in the world now?
Kim: I’m happy about
it. I’m so glad it’s accessible. But I don’t know how to
let people know about it. I’m not good at saying, “Hey
look it, without feeling like I’m saying, “Look what I
did. This is here.” Which is kind of what I want to do
on this mail list. I have to figure out how to write
something so I don’t sound like, “Honk-honk; look what I
did!” But what I want people to know is this is here;
this is available. Everything these days just takes time
for me. Between being a mama and work and everything
else…
Marie: What is your
actual work now?
Kim: I work in
construction management. My official title is I am a
construction inspector. But I actually work more as an
office engineer, for the city of San Francisco.
Marie: Is there
anything else you want to add? One of the questions we
are asking, is imagine someone in 2070 reading this oral
history. What would you like them to know about your
life at UCSC? Is there anything you haven’t said
already?
Kim: [pause] It’s
always changing but the one thing that will be constant
is to really look at what you want. You might not know
if it’s what you want or not. But try it. If there’s
money available at UC, go for it. You’re not going to
have that opportunity once you graduate. When you’re not
in school anymore, you don’t have the time and you don’t
have the money. You don’t have the resources. You don’t
have the support. You can if you do private research and
stuff. But if you are out working and trying to support
yourself, you’re not going to have it. And it’s a good
learning experience. If you take what you learn at UC,
grant writing and those kinds of things, you can apply
it and do them. I think that’s the biggest thing. There
are so many opportunities there. Just try them. Take
them. Don’t just be there, but really, really use it.
It’s a special time. Earlier you asked about LGBT
organizations and the need for specific lesbians of
color organizations. I did feel the need to work with
other LOCs in general and specifically with other
Pacific/Asian lesbians. Since there wasn’t an existing
community, I and others created spaces for ourselves.
For me, encompassing my needs as a woman, Asian lesbian
writer, and artist meant using all the resources
available, including guest speakers, funding independent
studies, students and faculty and other organizations.
And that was important to me—I could create what I
needed and I had lots of support to do it.
To be able to sit here and say, “Oh, I’m published.” Or,
“A university library has what I did!” It’s something.
I’m really proud of it. It almost feels like nothing.
But to do it, it was like you are just going along
day-to-day doing it. It didn’t feel like work. It felt
like, this is what I wanted to do. There were times when
it was work, when you had a deadline, you had to turn in
a thesis. When I wanted to do this reader I was spending
late hours writing numbers and going to Kinko’s. But for
the most part, it’s like the work was easy because it
was something that I wanted and I was supported by the
UC community. In the year 2070 the environment will
change, the economy will change, all those issues will
change. It will all be a little bit different. It might
be a more crowded campus. But like I say, use the
resources, because there are so many. Including using
this Asian lesbian archive that’s in Special
Collections. [laughter] And write something!
-
Cristy Chung, Alison Kim, Arlene Kaweah
Lemeshewsky, eds. Between the Lines: an Anthology by
Pacific/Asian Lesbians of Santa Cruz (Dancing Bird Press:
Santa Cruz, CA, 1987).
-
Between the Lines will be digitized and
re-published on the University Library’s website.
-
Marie is referring to the UCSC Library
Catalog, Cruzcat, which has a citation for Alison Kim’s
Pacific/Asian Lesbian Archive (MS40 Special Collections).
|