Everybody wants to hang out with the cool kids, right? If you’ve ever felt that feeling—either you are happy to be with the cool kids or you are unhappy about the cool kids—you will know what I am about to talk about.
This is a post about orientalism and how it might be at play in convert Buddhist communities. Orientalism is form of fetishism of Asians—in this case, the monk. And orientalism is part and parcel of liberalism. Common law and political values in liberalism are the foundation on which we see others. Consider, for example, the affect the picture for this post produces in many of us —peace, tranquility, and equality, real practice, authentic practice in Nepal. Ok. Nice stereotypes.
Years ago, I visited the San Jose Betsuin Temple…. I know a couple of people through my academic life who attend there. Although this is a different sect of Buddhism than what I am used to, I thought it would be good to see. I’d been to an O’bon celebration there (hey only 15000 people attend that). Even though this isn’t my immediate Buddhist community, there’s a way that this community is also me. The culture is familiar to me, these are, after all, mostly Japanese Americans. Regular street clothes. I left my rakusu on its shelf…. at home. Can I be a Buddhist without announcing that a rakusu is involved? Most of the time, besides my short hair, the wrist mala is the only exterior sign that I am Buddhist. Not special. That is the teaching I know. I brought cash… bc I knew I would be visitor, I would donate. I was going to someone else’s house.
Though it felt tricky for me, I’d invited a couple of priest friends, hakujin (thats what my parents used to say…. in a whisper…as if it explained a lot). I was and continue to be interested in how JA Buddhist temples connect with the community—and I wanted my friends to see this. My friends arrive in samue and rakusu. And my heart sinks in embarrassment. This is my quintessence of being Japanese American: I am embarrassed for you because you seem oblivious to why you are embarrassing yourself (and me). These guys do not rise to the level of Napoleon Dynamite. I think my friends are eager to be seen as cool kids. My first thought was, “no. why can’t you just be cool?” To me, an appropriate way to visit someone else’s house is to be a guest. Blend. Not stand out. The ego stands out.
Here’s the Orientalism part. In our effort to be authentic we stereotype the thing we are hoping to emulate. The pic for this post is exemplary. Monks are considered cool… its a part of the popular culture imaginary … the iconography of Buddhism in popular culture is a shaved head person wearing monastic robes, in some contemplative pose. But honestly, if you are Asian American, emulating Asian-ness, can be appropriation. And to watch others emulate the iconic monk thing can be weird, creepy. Not always. Its is context driven.
So for those of us doing Buddhist practice, our appearance is not nothing. But does it have to be something? Also, let’s be real: it can be different for me and for you. I myself, have occasionally worn samue… out in the world (esp. right after ordination). But it felt not right to me as a Japanese American, as Dana. But for many, an expression of our belonging, of our status in the hierarchy of Soto Zen, is to dress the part.
I found it weird and ironic to be in a Japanese American temple with my Soto friends who, at least in exterior appearance, were doing the iconography of the monk, super orientalist.* This is not quite right… but I thought of it as whites performing Asian in the presence of Asians. Sometimes… ok, often times, ugh. I assumed people were whispering “hakujin” behind our backs. I wanted to say… hey, I’m cool, I just work with them, we drove separately. My friends are not the cool kids. In their defense, they were just signaling what they always do…. letting us know they are priests. Seriously now, how important is that, letting everyone know one is a priest?
Back to my friends. So here I am at a primarily Japanese American temple with the two hakujin. Everyone is invited to offer incense after service, and there is a special reception next door after the service. I eat lightly. This is not my house. I am a guest. I catch a glimpse of my friends who have mounds of food on their plates. One of them, wide eyed, asks “all of this, is it just free?” Greed is a funny thing when it comes to free. Whoops. I really need to get out of here. I think I see one of my friends wrapping up leftovers to take with. Its a small thing, I donate 3 times what I might have —because I worry my friends have not done so.
There is dharma here: desire in the form of belonging and status are something to practice with. In theory, perhaps having a rakusu or robe might mean one has been working on their ego, but in a practice laden with hierarchy, sometimes a certain smugness (rather than humility) pops up. Projection is a cruel teacher if one is able to study such things. This is and is not about clothes, or food, or money. Buddhism is a culture of being familiar with one’s ego about practice—which is about food, clothes, and money, among a great many other things.
*It is not always orientalist to wear Japanese work clothing…. I myself might be in samue if I am at the place where I did some training. And when there, I certainly do not think anything of people who wear samue. But, context is important.
Outtro: You might be wondering—so why did you not give your priest friends some feedback, before, after or during? My answer moves on three levels: a) petulant: the very question is a liberal bypass. why is this my job? I was not asked for feedback, and it was not desired…. I felt there was, in this case, a built in arrogance that this was a little jaunt, like an anthropological visit to Buddhism among those who “don’t practice the way we do.” Sometimes, I think people give Tibetan Buddhism more accord than Japanese American Buddhism. It did not have to be that way. I can think of plenty of my colleagues and friends in Soto Zen who would have asked prior … about decorum and dress. Or asked afterward, in a debrief. b) I did try with the hint: I did explain when asked about “free” that there is a reciprocity (not necessarily a quid pro quo) in Japanese American culture… and that I thought if one was grateful, one could offer a donation, and c) historical ignorance is a thing: Japanese and Asian culture is embedded in zen practice….. from where I sit, it is important to appreciate one’s ignorance in the matter. Part of that cultural expectation is that you are not special, and we are not trans-action oriented. So, sometimes, I just sigh, and wonder.