“¿Nation of Immigrants?” An Interview with Bao Phi

Culture Bully’s Kyle “Guante” Myhre sat down with local poet and organizer Thien-bao Thuc Phi, who recently facilitated the release of ¿Nation of Immigrants?, a compilation CD “of spoken word and performance poetry by Minnesotan Indigenous, immigrant, adoptee, refugee, and people of color—that seeks to explore, challenge, and explode the blanket-term ‘nation of immigrants.’”

Kyle Myhre: Could you tell the story of ¿Nation of Immigrants? What role did you play? Where did the idea come from? How was it pulled together?

Bao Phi: I shared the stage with Juliana Hu Pegues and Tatiana Ormaza at a working class conference organized by Peter Rachleff. They did their duet poem, and although I had heard it before, it blew me away again – I think great poetry has the power to repeatedly kick one’s ass. And I got to thinking about all the amazing poems by artists of color in the Twin Cities, and how people on the national level often sleep on the spoken word scene here. This is especially perplexing given the number of different backgrounds and stories that are colliding in the Twin Cities. We’re perhaps unique in that regard – all of these different populations here, and all the different voices. I don’t know if any other urban area in the U.S. has the same degree of multitudes represented here.

And thinking of these great stories, these great poems, I realized that many of them weren’t recorded on a CD anywhere. Ed Bok Lee’s Secret to Life in America, for example. Christy NaMee Eriksen’s What Would Harry Holt Do? Poems by Robert Karimi, Bobby Wilson, Marcie Rendon, Lorena Duarte, and so on and so on. I really didn’t want these poems to disappear over time, the way art and poetry by community-based artists of color are often neglected or lost through time and Eurocentric history. I wanted these great poems to be passed along, you know? To exist beyond the “now.”

So, I run a series dedicated to supporting artists of color and building audiences of color through the art of spoken word here at the Loft Literary Center, and pitched the idea to produce a CD. Barebones – just poetry. No music, no skits, no banter – just poetry. And we went from there.

KM: If the album has a kind of “thesis statement,” what would it be? Why are these voices so important, particularly in a place like the Twin Cities?

BP: Well, people perceive the Twin Cities as being very white. How did that Chris Rock joke go? “There’s no Black people in Minnesota, the only Black people in Minnesota are Prince and Kirby Puckett.” I think, if you live in certain neighborhoods and have spent a significant amount of time here, your perspective is very different. You know, I grew up in Phillips, two blocks from Little Earth. My parents are still in the same house. If you want to debunk the notion that the Twin Cities is white, you can just go to my parent’s house for dinner. I mean, I’m not negating the reality of white supremacy and the overall statistics, what I’m saying is, we have a vibrant community made up of multitudes here. And I’m not suggesting that we’re all a happy family. The point of this story was to provide the space for people to reveal often-buried histories and truth, provoke discussion, challenge notions of who and what is immigrant.

You could argue that this is especially important in a place like Minnesota. I think people often simplify movements into one particular group at a time, and almost always in relation to whiteness. I wanted to create something both artistic and useful that was created, from top to bottom, by people of color and indigenous folks. To complicate the discussion. To challenge mainstream assumptions of who and what is immigrant, who has the power to shape their own image and who’s voices are heard within a movement. And also, to validate these powerful poetic voices.

KM: What kind of relationship do you see between the greater Twin Cities arts community and artists from indigenous backgrounds, refugee backgrounds, immigrant backgrounds or even just artists-of-color in general? Is it a big happy family? Is it segregated? Where are the opportunities and who is getting the attention? How does this album, along with the work you’ve done with Equilibrium, fit into (or attempt to change) that framework?

BP: I work almost entirely with communities of color, so I don’t know if I can answer the first part of this question. What I’ll say is, when I was coming up a long time ago as both an artist and community activist (late 80′s/early 90′s), I felt like there was a lot of exotification going on. You know what I mean? Let me put it this way: here I was, a Vietnamese refugee from a working class family in Phillips who’s father was a vet, and who had two older brothers in the military during Persian Gulf War I. And at the time, crazy stuff was popping off: crack, gang violence, police brutality, Reaganomics, all of that. And so when I came out of that, doing political poetry, I think I was eagerly tokenized by a lot of people. And the funny thing is, I felt something back then, that I still feel now – that I could speak out on a multitude of things like war, class, police brutality, globalism, and people would really like me. But if I speak about race and racism – especially from an Asian American perspective – people don’t take me seriously, or tune me out. It’s like, Asian Americans can speak about anything except race, because it’s believed consciously or subconsciously that we aren’t affected by racism. I feel like a lot of discussions and movements are still moderated and controlled by white liberal people whom get to decide whose voice is valid on what issue. It’s a different set of boxes, but they’re boxes nonetheless.

My hope is to build community where artists of color and indigenous artists feel like they’re at home, rather than commodified or put onto some pedestal by another community. That’s what I’ve been trying to do with Equilibrium over the past six years. I’m not going to say that our communities are monolithic – on the contrary, part of the vision of this series is to build communities and artists of color in ways that are expansive and challenging. So, just because I bring in a Vietnamese artist, for example, doesn’t mean that all audiences of color or even Vietnamese audiences are expected to adore that artist. But we hope to create a space where discussions can take place and communities can grow – where we are at the center.

It’s not hugs and kisses all the time, but I do feel like there is a large amount of kinship and camaraderie amongst a lot of us in this community. I’ve been to places where different groups and clicks won’t even talk to one another, let alone share a stage or have dinner and conversation with one another. I think there are definitely spaces where cross-community discussions and partnerships take place. In a way that is critical but still supportive.

Spoken word is in a funny place in the Twin Cities. Because literature and hip hop are both big here – but spoken word isn’t, and probably shouldn’t be, considered by the same standards. So we don’t really fit into the framework. When you send a spoken word CD to the press, for example, is it reviewed by the literature reviewer or the music reviewer? You know, that type of thing. Where I think spoken word is, in and of itself, an art form.

I hope both EQ and this CD contribute to the idea that spoken word should be taken seriously, and that the voices included are representative of the multitudes of communities that collide and expand in the Twin Cities.

KM: How can people get the album now that the release party has passed? Are there plans to do something like this again in the future, like a “volume 2,” or maybe a compilation based around a different identity or theme?

BP: People can contact me directly regarding buying a CD (bphi@loft.org). You can also pick up a CD at Northland Poster Collective on Lake Street, but you might want to call ahead and make sure they have some copies left. And support Northland by buying some of their great stuff while you’re there!

Yes, I’m already trying to envision CD number 2. Some ideas include an OG CD, a compilation of poetry by spoken word artists of color who trailblazed the way for us here. Or, a CD containing poems about work. An all Asian American CD. I have a bunch of ideas – we’ll see.

KM: What about you personally? Any new projects in the works?

BP: I’m still doing shows nationally here and there, primarily for Asian American audiences. I’m working on a manuscript, hoping that works out. Also want to try and get a “geek of color” website up and running. You know, with the commodification of geeks and nerds into mainstream culture, critical voices from geeks of color are still marginalized and silenced. Why isn’t there more discussion on Grace Park on Battlestar, for example, or messed up race dynamics in the Iron Man film? Race and gender and sexuality issues in video games? I want to create a website where geeks of color can riff on these things in ways that are intelligent, funny, political, and accessible.

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