Asian lead in a "Black" story context stirs controversy

SOUTHERN FRIED RICE

Page Young stars in 'Southern Fried Rice'

Usually when an Asian American actor stars in a television show it is time to celebrate a victory for representation, but a new television series gives me pause.

Here we are again, staring down a "controversy" that really shouldn't be one if people just thought beyond their own bubble. The latest head-scratcher is Keke Palmer's KeyTV web series, Southern Fried Rice. 

The lead actress in Southern Fried Rice is Page Yang, who plays the character KoKo Jackson. The series follows KoKo, a Korean-American adoptee raised by a Black family, as she navigates her identity while attending a fictional HBCU. Yang's character experiences a journey of self-discovery, friendship, and romance as she confronts cultural identity, belonging, and privilege.

On the face of it, the show's premise might appear promising and ideal for some interesting situations where issues that are usually skipped over by white-centric shows can be given a platform.

But as usual in Hollywood (or web-TV land, more specifically), the execution is where it all falls apart, especially from an Asian American perspective. This isn't just about Black folks having creative control; it's about the substance of that creativity and who actually gets to tell what story.

Here are the lowlights:

The Title Itself: Let's start with the title, Southern Fried Rice. Seriously? Tying a Korean American character's identity to a catch-all "Chinese" food item is lazy and flattens the rich diversity of the AAPI experience. It's the kind of simplistic thinking we constantly battle against.

Cultural Appropriation, Not Celebration: The show seems to position the main character's immersion in Black culture as authentic "lived experience," while making the Black character who challenges her a villain. This completely glosses over the crucial discussions about privilege and "culture vultures." You can't just wear the aesthetic—the hair, the hoops—and claim the identity without engaging with the systemic realities. It felt less like a genuine exploration and more like a defense of appropriation.

Harmful Tropes and Lazy Writing: This is where it really stung. The show reportedly includes a character using a food-based racial slur ("Lo Mein") that is brushed aside. We also have a male character making cringey, objectifying comments about "Asian persuasion" and "diversifying his portfolio." These aren't jokes; they're harmful stereotypes that contribute to the fetishization and objectification of Asian women. When will they learn these tropes are tired and dangerous?

Missing Voices: Keke Palmer and creator Nakia Stephens defended the show by saying it was for Black creatives. Fine. But if you're telling an adoptee's story, and an Asian American one at that, hopefully you have AAPI writers and adoptees in that room because you can't speak for an experience you haven't lived and expect authenticity.

Despite the criticism, there were some strong positve points from the conversations between the characters. Specifically, an early class discussion on multicultural versus ethnic studies and a discussion between characters Koko and Joy, her black roommate, regarding Koko's privilege, as a "model minority."

Joy explains that while Koko is a person of color and an adoptee, she still benefits from aspects of non-Black privilege (e.g., often not being perceived as a threat in the same way as her Black male peers) and that her background has allowed her access to certain resources and opportunities that are not universally available. Joy emphasizes that Koko's privilege isn't about being rich, but about a relative lack of systemic burden compared to the daily realities of Black Americans.  

Southern Fried Rice could have been a chance for a thoughtful dialogue on cross-cultural identity, race, and the adoptee experience. Instead, it seems they fell back on tired tropes and a narrative that seemed more interested in defending a problematic premise than genuinely engaging with the nuances of our shared yet distinct realities. Another swing and a miss. 

The timing is awful, too, given the real-world tensions and the complex history between Black and Asian American communities, which has often been pitted against each other by external systems.

Keke Palmer and Stephens have both defended the show, insisting on KeyTV's mission to support Black creators and showcase diverse narratives. But here’s the thing: supporting Black creatives and telling nuanced stories should not come at the expense of respect for Black spaces and narratives. When your chosen narrative pushes Black people to the edges of their own story, you have failed to understand the assignment.

Sometimes, you have to realize that what seems like a fresh idea from a certain point of view is, in fact, a tired and offensive one from another.

This controversy should be a wake-up call to creatives, well-meaning as they might be. It's a reminder that creators and producers need to listen to the communities they are trying to portray, and they need to do so long before the public does it for them.

EDITOR'S NOTE: For additional commentary, news, views and chismis from an AANHPI perspective, follow me on Threads, on X, BlueSky or at the blog Views From the Edge.