It is winter 2015. Venice Beach, California. A group of street performers, an elderly Chinese man, and a crowd of eager onlookers. What could go wrong? I am relishing the sight of black and brown and yellow faces surrounding me, the comfort I feel at simply being one of many faces in a crowd rather than one of the few colored faces in a sea of white. But then the unmistakable “Kung Fu Fighting” starts blasting from the speakers. And then the performers, a group of black and Latino men, chant,…
Yellow Peril and the Docile Chinaman
