bi-bonds

Lucy Wang's Junk Bonds was a fast-paced look into the trade forum. The trading of bonds is an interesting parallel to the trading of identity; it is always a push and pull, give or take, win and lose. The protagonist, D.K., is an outsider to the company in a variety of ways: she is a woman and Chinese-American. I feel that she is also an outsider in another way: she seems to be more human than her male counterparts. At first, she is picked on ruthlessly, but with the introduction of Hiro, the tables turn. She is given the opportunity to be the top dog, to put someone down. I was appalled to read about how she cut his tie, but I think what affected me the most was when Hiro says to her "But we have the same face!" Loyalty lies in image because it is what we are used to seeing, what we are used to allying ourselves with. D.K. is in a unique position because while she does look like Hiro on the outside, she has a completely American mindset on the inside. Again, we see the split between the external and the internal.

To go further on the theme of image as loyalty, the guys at the company ask D.K. if she rooted for the Asian competitors in the Olympic competitions rather than the American ones. She becomes flustered, and I can relate completely; this is a question that I've asked myself many times. When watching the Olympic games with my white friends, I always felt like I was betraying someone or something if I chose to root for the Chinese or Asian competitors instead of the American ones. Strange, but I felt a lot more comfortable watching world sports competitions with my family or friends who were also Asian American, because they understand the dual identity that we have. I actually asked my roommate who is Korean American if she rooted for South Korea or America in the Olympic games. She said that when Korea played America in the World Cup a couple years back, she rooted for both because as long as one of the two won, she felt like it was okay. However, she also added that she felt that she was rooting for the Koreans a bit more than the Americans, but she didn't know why. We asked another of our friends who was Korean American about the Korea/America game, and he said, sort of sheepishly, that he rooted for Korea. He really wasn't sure why either; he didn't seem to consider rooting for America as "his" country. All three of us were born and raised in America, and yet the feeling of not quite being a part of the American community somehow still persists. I don't know what it is that makes us root for the country of our parents. Perhaps it is because the players look like us, and subconsciously, we gravitate towards that commonality. We can trade our identities to suit the situation, but it doesn't necessarily mean that we like it, nor does it mean that we understand why we do what we do. After all, trading is hard work, but we've got to do it to survive.