After reading and watching about the zoot suits, it reminded me of myself when I was a freshman in high school. 9 years ago, I was a rebel who wanted to do anything in my hand to go against what my parents and relatives told me to do. Because of that, I committed a crime knowing that I wasn't the typical asian that my families told me to be. Maybe it was because of where my high school was located. Maybe it was because of my insufficient funds. I just can't simply give an answer for the way I was dressing, but from what I could remember, I grew up with this fashion, and I went through many ups and downs because of it.
If I could say one thing that I learned in high school is to adapt to changes. From eighth grade to freshmen in high school, it self was a huge change. However, leaving all my middle school friends to go to a different high school is a bigger change. On top of that, when I found out that I was basically the only asian kid in school, besides the two math teachers Mr. Kim and Mrs. Kim, I knew I was in trouble. From Los Angeles, I moved to San Bernardino county due to my family issues. When I got to school, I quickly learned that I would have to get along with people at school or else, my high school life wouldn't be easy. My high school consisted about 75% Mexican, 20% African American, 4% Caucasian, and 1% Asian. This stat might be wrong however, my point is that the majority of people in San Bernardino were Mexicans and Blacks. Living and growing with Mexicans and Blacks, I grew up dressing like them, acting like them, and becoming like them unconsciously. My white tall t-shirts, baggy pants/jeans, basketball shoes, and baseball caps were my daily appearance in San Bernardino. Unusual for an asian to dress like that since our parents want us to look educated, wealthy, and normal in their eyes: a shirt that fits, pants that aren't too tight nor too loose, any cheap tennis shoes, and clean hair cuts. These are the typical asians' look when asked to other ethnicity other than asians. So when I started dressing like them, it was different in Mexicans and Blacks eyes. However, they accepted me and I quickly made friends. They even gave me a nickname that I still carry on, "Oh Chino (Oh's my last name and chino means chinese [although I'm not chinese but it didn't matter])".
With that said, I encountered with many problems due to the way I dressed. My family and relatives didn't like the clothes I was wearing because they thought I wasn't representing my family too well. There were many times they tried to buy me different clothes and shoes. But by then, it was too late. I felt that I needed to wear these clothes. For example, When we would have a holiday parties or family gatherings, we would have more than twenty people coming. With such a large crowd, it was matter of time for my mom to yell and scream at me, wanting for me to change my clothes. Of course, I refused. As a consequence, I would listen to all the elders talking about the way I dressed jokingly, which I knew it wasn't a joke, more like a sarcasm. Through that, they would treat me like I committed a crime. However I continued to keep my fashion. I felt that I had to keep my fashion alive order for me to stay alive. It was like Ramirez and their zoot suits. Those Mexicans who were rebellious, wore zoot suits. They were identified as people who were bad and obnoxious in their community. Not only those who wore the zoot suits, but even their families. Because that one individual wore a zoot suit, others assumed that even his or her family was the same. Thus, my family didn't want me to represent myself and my family through the way I dressed. In my mind, I didn't think that I was representing them any differently. If anything, I thought I was breaking the asian stereotypes: smart, nerdy, weak, and thick accent.
Family was just a small problem, when I would get stopped by cops on the way back from school. This happened so many times that it became a daily event. It was as if they assumed that I brought nothing but trouble upon them. When I started to drive in my junior year in high school, it was just matter of time for me to notice that my fashion had everything to do with my "Daily Pull Over". It was around 5pm when I was approached by a cop in his car. He pulled me over and raised his gun as he walked out of his car. He asked me to stay in the car with my hands on the steering wheel. He came next to me and first thing he said was, "What's up with the hat?" At that time, I was wearing a blue LA baseball cap, which was my favorite baseball team. He seemed to not care whether I was innocent or not, and he quickly asked me to come out of my car. As I stepped out, he asked if I had any drugs or weapons on me, as if I looked like someone who had them. When I told him no, he handcuffed me and told me to get inside of his car and wait. I waited and watched him search my car repeatedly. Of course, I had nothing on me but that only got the officer mad. He came back to his car and checked my background on his computer. With my record as clean as a brand new car, he pulled me out of the car and continue to ask me if I was in a gang or sold drugs. I remember looking at him so pissed off that he yanked against the car. I was able to tell that he was very frustrated because he knew he had the wrong guy. In the end, he lectured me not to wear my sunglasses and my blue baseball caps. After that night, my anger towards the cops grew much bigger, and I realized that it had everything to do with my appearance. My incident in the past is very similar to Ramirez's story with zoot suits. Cops seem to have a list of dress codes that they follow, to help them find criminals. I understand that, that could be helpful and all, however in this case, I was a victim. Like myself, there are many people who could only afford these clothes that are available in Swap Meets/Flee Markets. Like myself, there are many people who dress the way they do, not only because they want to but they have to. Yes, because people believed that all asians were all smart, innocent, and weak that, that could've helped me when I was in those incidents. However, it seems very unfair to know that cops generalized who's a criminal and who's not through their appearances. Back in the days, Mexicans in Los Angeles wore zoot suits to stand out and to gain respect from other ethnicity. Therefore, my intention of wearing the clothes that I wore were similar to the reason why Mexicans were zoot suits.
Some say that your appearance says who you are, but I disagree to the fullest. If we were to look at people the way they dress, then we have no idea what's behind its cover. Let's not judge a book by it's cover, but actually find out what's behind the cover.
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