Albert Shen of Shen Consulting, far left, on the Third Runway at Sea-Tac Airport, just before it opened. Photo courtesy Chen Communitcations.

Mayor Greg Nickels announced this year’s Ten Mayor’s Small Business Award winners, who were celebrated at an awards ceremony at Town Hall on Oct. 13. This year’s winners of the 2009 Small Business Awards include: Shen Consulting and Schemata Workshop. For twenty-five years, ten small businesses in Seattle have received special recognition for their accomplishments. Past recipients included Uwajimaya (1984).

A decade ago, CEO and founder of Shen Consulting, Albert Shen, started his company with $1000 of his own money. Shen Consulting is a Program and Project Planning, Design and Construction Management company, specializing in construction management and inspection, transportation engineering, and quality control. Christine Chen of Chen Communications, writes, “Today, he is doubling revenue in a recession, plans to hire more people and will hit the $1 million revenue mark in 2010. This small business, started by the son of Chinese immigrants to go beyond the glass ceiling in his industry, has hit ‘the big time’ … Shen Consulting helped complete projects such as Sea-Tac Airport’s Third Runway, the Airport Light Rail Link, and the Parking Lot Floor Count, which uses video cameras to inform drivers about the number of available spots and eases airport ‘parking rage’. Currently, Shen Consulting, Inc. leads two major projects for the Port of Seattle: the 2008-2011 Airfield Capital Development Program and the Sea-Tac Airport Consolidated Rental Car Facility. The Mayor praised Shen Consulting for its commitment to deliver on time and on budget while passing on savings to its clients through virtual workspaces and overhead cost-cutting whenever possible. Also notable is the CEO and founder’s own community involvement: Shen sits on three boards, including the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation as well as organizations that support minority-owned businesses and Asian professionals, such as SCIDpda (Seattle Chinatown International District Preservation and Development Authority).” Congratulations Albert!

Schemata Workshop, owned by husband and wife team Mike Mariano and Grace Kim, founded their full-service architectural practice, Schemata Workshop, in 2004, after twelve years working in Seattle and Chicago. Schemata Workshop’s design work reflects a simple, restrained elegance, material integrity, and is informed by the firm’s clients, the surrounding environment and existing conditions. Open communication, employee mentorship, and collaboration with area firms are important. Recognizing the role and potential for the positive impact of their practice, Schemata Workshop works with clients to develop communities that emphasize social, ecological and economic sustainability.

Seattle's Chinatown before the Jackson Street regrade.

One hundred years ago, in late 1909, Seattle city officials celebrated the completion of the regrade of Jackson Street. After two years of excavation, some 85 feet was chopped off the steep street, setting the stage for new development and settlement of the southern portion of what we now call the Chinatown/International District and, arguably the District’s birth. It is remarkable how the District has re-invented its Asian American character and preserve it over this 100-year period.

The Jackson Street Regrade paved the way for development in the District

The Jackson Street Regrade, one of 62 in the city, was undertaken to make it easier for farmers and others in the Rainier Valley to get to the downtown area and easier for those in the south part of town to get to Lake Washington. The greatest cut was 85 feet at Ninth Avenue and Jackson Street. The grade of Jackson Street was reduced from 15 to 5 degrees, and the street was widened from 66 to 96 feet.

Shortly after the Jackson Street Regrade began, the city decided to regrade the Dearborn slope and to replace it with a bridge to connect Beacon Hill and Jackson Street. The entire Jackson and Dearborn Regrade projects were a gigantic undertaking that covered 56 city blocks, extending all the way to First and Lander where Starbucks headquarters is now and took until 1914 to complete.

Chinatown shifts from lower Washington Street to King Street

The original Chinese settlement in Seattle began in the 1870s and was centered on lower Washington Street, in what we now call Pioneer Square. That area became increasingly congested with the tremendous growth in the city in the late 1890s and the first decade of the 1900s. After completion of the Jackson Street Regrade, the Chinese began shifting their businesses from that area to King Street. The first Chinese building constructed in the King Street core were the Hip Sing Tong building on the northwest corner of Eight and King Street and two huge buildings on the south side. A Chinese group, the Kong Yick Investment Company headed by Goon Dip, was established for the sole purpose of constructing the latter two buildings. Shares were sold to Chinese throughout the Northwest to finance the construction of the buildings. The Wa Chong and Quong Tuck Companies immediately moved to the Kong Yick Buildings. Also setting up shop there were the Yuen Long Company, Wah Young Company, and Yick Fung Company, an importer/exporter and agent for the Blue Funnel steamship line. These were the first Chinese businesses on King Street. One of the Kong Yick Buildings later housed the Gee How Oak Tin Family Association and Chong Wah Benevolent Association, and the elaborate King Fur Café, where the Chinese revolutionary leader Dr. Sun Yat-Sen once had a fundraiser. The following year, 1911, Goon Dip built the Milwaukee Hotel, an elegant structure on Seventh and King Street. The top floor of the hotel was his family’s residence. That same year, the Eastern Hotel Building was constructed on Maynard between King and Weller Streets, supposedly for the Wa Chong Company. In 1916, the Bing Kung Tong constructed a building on King Street across from the Kong Yick Buildings and, in 1920, the Chew Lin Association built the Republic Hotel building on Seventh Avenue between Jackson and King Streets. By 1925, King Street had become the core of the new Chinatown. The old Chinatown on Washington Street had withered away to little more than a bunch of lottery and gambling houses.

The Heydays of the 1920s

The Roaring 20s were the heydays of the District and clearly the District’s best years. While the Chinese continued to shift from the lower Washington Street area and Nihonmachi continued to expand along Jackson Street, a Filipino presence in the District emerged. King Street and its adjacent streets were clearly the commercial core of the Filipino community then as they established hotels, businesses, labor and employment agencies, and fraternal organizations to meet the need of its immigrant and migrant population. In addition, a number of Black establishments, including a number of night clubs, appeared in the 1920s.The diverse population of the District hit its peak of about 4000 in the 1920s and business flourished. But the onset of the Depression, the subsequent incarceration of Japanese during WWII, and the increasing blight and stagnant economy of the area sent the District on a downward trend well into the 1970s.

A Long Road to Recovery

A concerted effort to rejuvenate the area began in the late 1940s with the emergence of the Jackson Street Community Council, a diversified group comprised from representatives of the Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, Black and White groups that comprised an area that extended to 23rd and Jackson Street. As the first community action/urban renewal group of its kind in the state, it achieve limited success, notably single-family housing programs. In 1952, Mayor Devin proclaimed the district the “International Center” in reference to the prevalence of non-white and Asian immigrant population in the area.

The District Re-Invents Itself

A great infusion of public funds to improve the streets, lighting, housing and social services in the District helped spark a turn-around in the District. Coupled with the dramatic arrival to the region of Asian immigrants, whose population doubled for three consecutive decades, the area underwent a significant rehabilitation. The increased demand for Asian goods and services, along with public and private investment over the last decades has resulted in a healthy revival of the District. Along with the emergence of “Little Saigon,” the area around 12th and Jackson Street, the District has been able to re-invent itself and preserve its Asian American character. Today, however, it no longer serves as the primary settlement area for Asian immigrants. Instead, it is much more a regional center for Asian goods, services, and culture.

Photo credit: CBC News

On the weekend of September 26th, Typhoon Ondoy hit the Philippines, dumping more rainfall in a single day than typically falls in a month. The typhoon caused massive flooding, swollen rivers and backed-up the sewer and waste water system which filled the crowded streets of Metro Manila. Homes at the edge of the Pasig and Marikina Rivers were swept to sea and over 600,000 families were displaced. Shortly after Typhoon Ondoy came Typhoon Pepeng which additionally caused massive landslides in Northern Luzon. The death toll between these two disasters is now over 600 people.

As images and news poured in about this disaster, the Filipino American community looked for signs of relief and aid from government officials. As families in the Northwest frantically called loved-ones in the Philippines, the Philippine government and US government both made token efforts to care for affected communities. Thirteen rubber boats were deployed to help over three million affected people while the United States offered $50,000 in aid. Compared to the $35 million that the US spends annually for military activities in the Philippines, it seemed a thin offer of help.

In Seattle, the Filipino American community rallied together, witnessing that neither the Philippine nor US governments had truly stepped up to the disaster. In a few days, “Prayers and Pesos,” a community vigil and donation drive was organized at the Filipino Community Center in Seattle by BAYAN-USA, the Filipino Community of Seattle and Ugnayan. Mike Rivera, who had been in the Philippines at the time of the typhoon, shared heart-wrenching photos of families climbing to their rooftops and struggling to float on top of the filthy sewage rising in the streets. He told the audience, “Please, if you’re thinking of giving your money to the government to help these people, just pray. They were nowhere to be seen. There weren’t even water stations set up for people.”

The damages are ongoing, with evacuation centers that are full of people, but short on basic supplies. Currently, 154 schools are still closed and over 180,000 metric tons of rice has been destroyed. Donna Denina, member of Pinay sa Seattle-GABRIELA USA, stated “President Arroyo drained more than 800 million pesos from the Philippine government’s emergency fund on her expensive foreign trips. Now that the people need relief more than ever, she is raising taxes on remittances and pocketing working people’s money.” On Monday, October 5th, Pinay sa Seattle wired $1000.00 to its partners in the Philippines, only to find that 10 percent was removed for new government taxes, revealing the corruption of the Arroyo administration.

Community members and organizers are resolved that grassroots efforts and direct contributions to communities in need are necessary to get relief and aid to the right hands. BAYAN-USA and GABRIELA-USA are supporting BALSA or Bayanihan Para Sa Sambayanan (translated to People’s Cooperation for the People), a program that has identified three of the most affected communities to support in the wake of this disaster. To donate online, please visit www.bayan.usa. The Filipino Community of Seattle is also accepting donations for typhoon victims. Please note BALSA on your donations.

Although the Filipino American family and community have a major influence in shaping students’ attitude towards self, school plays a significant role in influencing students’ attitudes toward self perception and their role in society. School has become more than just a place where students come to read. Following the progressive model, education had become a place where students learned to think, and schools were designed to socialize all people into Americans. Schools should support students to understand their ethnic, national, and global identifications for an individual can attain a healthy and reflective national identification only when the student has acquired a healthy and reflective ethnic identification. This invisibility in the curriculum influences how Filipino and Filipino American students construct knowledge. Examining the knowledge construction process provides insight into the current Filipino American identity issues.

The issues of identity, particularly colonial mentality, have reflected through the Filipino American student academic achievement gap throughout the nation. In 1993, the San Diego Unified School District completed a survey of 1,788 high schools students about coping with assimilation. Filipino American females had seriously considered attempting suicide within the past 12 months of the survey more than any other group in 1993. Filipino American counselors have indicated that the findings of the survey reinforced their beliefs that Filipino American adolescents are uncertain about how to cope with cultural conflicts and social pressures to assimilate. In 1997, I helped conduct a study that demonstrated the influence of assimilation. In this study, we found that Filipino American students were uncomfortable and resisted curricula that center Filipino American experiences more than their African American and White peers. The findings described how the Filipino American students “inherited colonial attitudes” from their parents. This was attributed to the education they received in the Philippines. A few scholars also said that the immigrant Filipinos fought to change America into the “Promised Land” that they had learned about as students in the Philippines. In interpreting Philippine history, through educational conditioning these parents valued the colonizer’s perspective and degraded the colonized which they viewed Spanish and American as good. Filipino Americans internalized the belief that anything related to their ethnic identity was negative and that the education they received from their colonizers was true and without fault.

In 2006, 73 percent of Filipino students in the Seattle Public School failed the science component and 55 percent failed the math component of the 10th grade WASL test required for graduation. This is directly related to the identity issue because it brings attention to how school, teachers, peer group, and related factor contribute to the Filipino American achievement gap. Teachers know little about Filipino American history and are unable to recognize its value. Filipino American students often experience cultural conflict in the different messages they receive about being Filipino; the personal and cultural knowledge they acquire from home and the academic and formal knowledge from school.

With these low expectations from school and teachers, Filipino American students distanced themselves from schooling.

As an example, high school classes to this day continue to be unsuccessful in deconstructing stereotypes that are attributed to shaping identity. Filipino American students point out that they have internalized these stereotypes and presupposed that Filipino Americans had little or no contributions to our nation. Acquiring this belief led from one stereotype to another, such as being passive and foreign which affected their academic achievement and self-esteem. Furthermore, their peers who were mostly students of color also internalized their cultural stereotypes such as being lazy, troublemakers, and under achievers. Collectively they began to question facts in textbooks, especially in history and American government classes, as demonstration of resistance to the stereotypes internalized.

Much of the class time was spent on “disciplining them” instead of giving them the opportunity to be engaged through discussions. All they wanted was to be heard by the teachers who were in the position of power. Even though the teachers were knowledgeable with their respective subjects, “they could not relate” to them and the teachers “could not relate to them”. Teachers with no cultural responsiveness could interpret this as “acting out”. It was not that they were unwilling to learn, it was more that the teachers were not giving them the opportunity to learn and providing them with appropriate instruction.

According to the NAFAA data on K-12 Filipino students, board members and K-12 administrators highly recommend:

• Hiring more Filipino administrators, teachers and counselors, ensuring staff that can culturally and appropriately deal with the challenges and problems Filipino students encounter in the school system on a daily basis.
• Revising and infusing existing curricula with Filipino culture, history and experiential content, and provide other educators with training that introduces them to Filipino culture, history, practices and skills enabling them to work more effectively with Filipino students.
• Involving Filipino community members and parents in the school’s daily operations and special programs which can be achieved in coalition with other ethnic groups when the opportunities arise and place Filipino educators in leadership and succession positions.

Furthermore, our community possesses enough resources and networks to establish a new organization or existing agency (like FYA and FYEP) to meet the academic, cultural, and social needs of the Filipino American youth. These suggestions will help clarify and understand identity issues, increase reflective citizenry, civic engagement, and bridge our academic achievement gap.

Sanguinetti’s niece, Serenity, 9, and her nephew (Serenity’s baby brother), Nazir, 2. They are racially-mixed with African American and Asian ancestry.

I remember the first time I brought Jason home to meet my parents. My mom told me she was excited and told my father they were about to meet their new “son-in-law.” I found it very interesting she knew before I did that he was my “match.” You see my mother believed everybody had their “match.” The person they are destined to be with.

When we got to my parents’ home, I could tell Jason was nervous. He was worried about their reaction. You see my husband is part Jamaican and part Italian, but identifies as being Jamaican. My parents were surprised! But I was proud of them for not being too Asian-centric. In great Asian-style, they made us a fabulous lunch and stuffed him until he could eat no more.

It was not until later that my father expressed his concern about me dating someone Black and in the military. My mother tried to console me by telling me how much she liked him. She did not see him as Black or White, but someone who was funny and kind. Of course, I was hurt and angry. I rarely brought anyone home to meet my family and when I did, my father decided he does not approve.

I did not tell Jason at first, because I was embarrassed that my Cambodian-Vietnamese father, who identifies culturally as Cambodian was being somewhat racist. I figured my father would be more open to the idea of dating outside our culture since I had a beautiful niece who is part African-American and Asian, whom they absolutely adore. I realized after talking to him and to my mom he was not trying to be racist, but concerned about our own “mixed-race” babies.

You see my father did not want other people in our community or in our society to think his grandchildren were “different” as he told me. I finally understood. It made me think about my own difficulties about being “different”, from mainstream culture.

It was already hard for me to navigate my own world of being first-generation refugee from Cambodia, being part Cambodian, Laotian, Vietnamese and Chinese and a woman of color. I guess having children with Jason would only add to my already complicated life. But what do I do? Do I let the fear of judgment from others keep me from my “match?” Or do I make the conscious decision to love him no matter what others think about our union?

Since meeting my husband, I believe my mom’s idea of love. We do not always have a choice about falling in love. But I believe creating a life with a partner is a choice we all make. We choose every day to work at our relationship.

My husband and I celebrated our four year anniversary. And we are contemplating having our own family. We discussed having “mixed-race” children and how they may be treated in our society.

I feel disheartened thinking even in 2009, we still have to think about racism and discrimination based on a person’s look or skin color. We still have the need to label and box people in. Children of mixed race do not choose to be born into a multi-cultural family, yet. They are subjected to ignorance and fear. I have armed myself with personal stories about family, about culture and education to protect my niece, nephew and someday my own children. I hope they will have the courage to choose their own cultural identity and not let others decide for them.

In 1970, the label was updated to: “Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined That Cigarette Smoking is Dangerous to Your Health”.

By 1985, it highlighted specific illnesses caused by smoking: “Surgeon General’s Warning: Smoking Causes Lung Cancer, Heart Disease, Emphysema, and May Complicate Pregnancy”.

Despite this alarming advisory, Asian Pacific Islander communities still produce disproportionate numbers of smokers. With October designated ‘Healthy Lung Month’ it’s a perfect time to kick the habit.

According to Elaine Ishihara, Director of the Asian Pacific Islander Coalition Against Tobacco (APICAT), statistics for Washington state indicate smoking prevalence rates decreased from 22 percent to 15.3 percent over five years, but among communities of color it remained consistent.

If data is segregated by ethnicity and gender, API’s are at 12 percent with Vietnamese and Cambodian men making up 38 percent of that. Chinese men also have high rates.

Chan Saelee, a Youth Chemical Dependency Counselor at Asian Counseling Referral Service (ACRS), believes smoking is cultural among older adults, a habit picked up during their youth.

“If you go to any party, you’ll see a lot of older adults smoking,” he explains. “It has a big influence on teenagers or pre-teens who might see that as a grown up thing to do.”

His clients cite “youth stress” as their primary reason for smoking—saying it helps them cope with school, money and family.

Although he stops short of calling it a class matter, Saelee sees many young smokers hailing from Seattle’s south end where their lower-income parents—who tend to smoke–expect them to help out financially by working while going to school.

Like Saelee, Ishihara thinks cultural aspects make tobacco socially acceptable, especially for immigrant populations and their children.

“In the Cambodian community, they use cigarettes as a way of ceremony, as a wedding gift,” she states. “Socially, if you’re offered a cigarette and you refuse, it’s…rude.” And, she adds, for families concerned about employment and housing, smoking prevention is not a priority.

She faults the industry for targeting youth and urban communities of color. Since the FDA enacted stringent anti-smoking laws, and most states banned smoking in bars and restaurants, tobacco companies have developed new products that appeal to young urbanites.

Disinterested in older adults, they pursue youngsters that become addicted early and use their products longer. Ishihara says marketers have turned to hip-hop culture and YouTube, funding music festivals and car giveaways to reach their demographic.

The industry also offers ‘mom and pop’ stores money to advertise their products. A photo project last year monitored various neighborhoods to determine where tobacco products were sold.

“Within four blocks in the International District, there were eight places that sold cigarettes or tobacco products, compared to Madison Park that had a very limited amount,” complains Ishihara.

As for kicking the habit, ACRS provides cessation programs that shun full abstinence in favor of counseling and offering alternatives for stress relief.

For Ishihara, it’s about education and engaging the community by providing resources to non-English speakers in their own language published in their own newspapers. Currently, the Quit Line commercials are all in English.

APICAT also distributes a health booklet through a Vietnamese temple group and publishes articles in Vietnamese. Because the materials are circulated through the temple, they have credibility.

To reach youths, APICAT funds a paddling club, promotes healthy lifestyles through exercise, sponsors events and contests with anti-tobacco messages, sells t-shirts, and hosts an annual hip-hop function at a tobacco-free venue.

1-800-QuitNow

“With the American culture in general, it has become that if there is something wrong, almost automatically, we want to medicate a person, even if the person is only 10 or 11 years old,” says Victor Loo, current Director of the Recovery Services at Asian Referral Counseling Service (ACRS). “Ritalin is a common prescription for ADHD. I think physicians are quite open to saying, ‘this is what your kid needs,’ rather than suggesting other alternatives.”

Ritalin falls under the category of a stimulant, one of the three most common forms of prescription drugs abuse, according to the National Drug Intelligence Center. The other two include depressants, such as barbiturates or tranquilizers, and opiates, such as OxyContin and Percocet.

But despite his opinion on the changing climate of medical practice, Loo reports that abuse of prescription drugs is not high amongst the APA community, accounting for less than 10 percent of his cases. Instead, the ACRS is seeing an increase of illegal drug abuse, such as marijuana or cocaine, and alcohol, he says, is still the highest reported substance abused in the community.

“I think prescription drug abuse is more mainstream in the Caucasian population,” says Loo. “However, there is the possibility of underreporting because Asian culture tends to keep a lot of things very hidden,” he continues.

After speaking with a former abuser, Loo’s suspicions appear to be correct.

“When I was on it, I would say 80 percent of the users were Asian Americans,” says a former two-year opiate addict. “I think it’s more in white culture because they tend to show it more than Asian people.”

Both also described a similar path in which the habit develops.

First the addiction begins with a legitimate injury, a physical, mental or emotional problem that permits access to the drug. Due to the drugs’ chemical potency and immediate effectiveness, they easily become a coping mechanism for patients.

Second is the availability. Many patients can easily acquire a prescription or find pills by searching the family medicine cabinet. A black market has also emerged to cut out expensive visits to the doctor, and according to the former user, “you can even order them online.”

Third is the social response. Stigma attached to prescription drug usage is minimal in comparison to other illegal substances, despite their chemical similarities. According to Loo, “in [APA] culture, anything that is given by a doctor or an authority figure is perceived as good.” Furthermore, finding other addicts and creating a social circle of enablers normalizes the habit, or “makes it okay.”

But like all addictive substances, the fleeting moment of escapism is only temporary, and the consequences eventually catch up. Oftentimes, a life-changing event shakes users out of the habit, or if they’re lucky, they see it happen elsewhere before they go through it themselves.

“It was really sad when I saw people that couldn’t buy things for their kids,” explains the former user. “If they had ten dollars, they’d rather buy two pills than buy lunch for their kids. I told myself that I didn’t want to get to that stage.”

And while prescription drug abuse cases aren’t frequent at ACRS, Loo says the organization is well prepared in providing step-by-step counseling, as well as many alternative treatments in place of prescription drugs, from acupuncture and meditation courses, to rehabilitation through art and dance.

The approach of ACRS’ Recovery Service Department is symbolic of where medical practice needs to go, or more fittingly, where it needs to return. Natural solutions like rehabilitation through conventional activities avoid the possibilities of addiction, but the difficulty remains in reducing dependence on artificial chemicals, and coping with illness and injury without them.

That was the reality of adolescence for Jay Bansali (name changed to protect identity), whose Indian American roots brought a specific set of challenges to coping with bipolar disorder.

“There was this general attitude among Indians that if people knew, it would embarrass or shame the family,” he said.

But this aspect of Bansali’s story isn’t unique to the South Asian American community—in fact, this seems to be a common thread regarding mental illness in many Asian American communities. “For many of the people we serve, the concept of mental illness is unheard of … it’s just not talked about,” said Natividad Lamug, the Education Coordinator for the Asian Counseling and Referral Service (ACRS) in Seattle.

This is what makes Bansali, now in his mid-20s, so different – his family proactively helped him seek out and receive professional treatment at an early age.

Statistics suggest that Asian Americans have a lower rate of mental illness compared to other ethnic groups – but this can be misleading. Asian Americans are also less likely to seek help, thereby under-reporting mental health issues.  This is consistent with the fact that Asian American women have the highest suicide rate in the U.S. amongst females between the ages of 15 and 24.

“The labeling of Asian & Pacific Islanders with the false stereotype of the ‘model minority’ – highly successful, well-educated, and upwardly mobile – exacerbates the cultural stigma surrounding mental illness,” said Betty Hong, executive director of Asian Community Mental Health Services (ACMHS), in a news brief. “The stigma is so great that it prevents those who may need support from seeking treatment altogether.”

Bansali felt directly affected by the stigma attached to this stereotype: “I guess their [my family’s] expectations of me were immediately lowered from being someone great who excels in life to someone who could just function with their illness on a day to day level.”

It is this context that makes culturally specific counseling so important. But it also comes with challenges, like trying to address the vast diversity of Asia and Asian Americans. ACRS’s slogan is “Hope and opportunity in 30 languages,” offering services primarily to East and Southeast Asians. But they also see people from South Asia, and have the ability to work with interpreters when necessary.

But as Natividad Lamug points out, regardless of what part of Asia a client comes from, trying to understand their different needs is always a long process. For example, clients who are refugees from Vietnam and Cambodia may have higher rates of post-traumatic stress disorder, as a result of war in those countries. Similarly, Asian Americans will have a different cultural context to their treatment than Asian immigrants.

The training manual from the National Asian American Pacific Islander Mental Health Association (NAAPIMHA) addresses this in greater detail: “A clinician who is unfamiliar with the nuances of an individual’s cultural frame may incorrectly judge as psychopathology those normal variations in behavior, belief or experience that are particular to the individual’s culture.”

Lamug also notes that clinicians need to realize that their clients may seek alternative treatments. “Often, people might see mental illness as arising from a misalignment with the gods or because of spirits. They may seek help from religious leaders, rather than getting medical help,” she said.

In some ways, one’s cultural background can also play a role in treatment. For example, a study by UCLA on recovering from schizophrenia showed that having a strong, supportive home environment and community could help prevent relapse. The family values that are prevalent within many Asian cultures have the potential to help those who are struggling with mental illness – once the cloud of stigma is lifted and there’s openness to discussing the illness itself.

The root of combating these stigmas is education. ACRS and Sound Mental Health offer a variety of services and programs for people in the Puget Sound area who are living with mental illness, as well as for their families and communities. Gayle Johnson organizes a series of community forums at Sound Mental Health designed to raise awareness around mental illness. “We’re open to suggestions from the community about what programs might help – so if you have any ideas, please share them with us.”

For now, there are small, encouraging signs of change for Jay Bansali. “The men in my family don’t really ask me about my illness even though they know about it, like it doesn’t exist. But the women have learned to talk to me about it openly, like there is no stigma or shame.”

Over late lunch a fortnight before “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat” opened, music director/conductor R.J. Tancioco and Musical Theater star Jennifer Paz agreed that “Joseph” had brought them full circle as friends and colleagues.

Judging by the pasta filled plate in front of him you’d think the slender Tancioco was getting ready for an endurance bicycle tour. And he might as well have been. As music director/conductor, the physical workout he submits himself to eight times a week can easily be compared to that of a top athlete. He plays the piano (and is known to sneak a snack) while conducting orchestra and performers. That he needs the nourishment Tancioco knows from experience, for this is the fourth time that he is working on “Joseph.” The first time, he played the title role at the Village Theatre.

“I was attending Seattle Prep and a friend who was involved with the Village Theatre’s KIDSTAGE suggested I’d join.”

The second time was as Musical Director for KIDSTAGE, and the third he worked as Musical Director for the Main stage production.

“David Armstrong (5th Avenue’s Artistic Director) came to see that show and invited me to be MD for “Hair” at 5th Avenue Theatre.”

Paz, for whom this is the first production of “Joseph”, also showed a good appetite, but where Tancioco chose carbohydrates, she opted for protein rich salmon. As the Narrator of the show, she’s on stage 75 percent of the time. She may be petite but she’s got a big, strong voice that needs to be fed.

“It’s meaningful to me for getting to work with R.J. again. He’s my friend, and I really trust his artistry. He knows how to pull great vocal moments out of you.”

After having expressed his concern that their exchange may start sounding like a love fest, R.J. added his appreciation for Paz.

“Her ease is unique. A lot of Narrators scream the score, but then there’s no variety. The score demands variety. Jen has vocal ease and color. And I noticed today how she processed last night’s run-through notes, and how she navigates through voice. She’s a musical director’s dream.”

After gracefully accepting his compliment, Paz said, “I had a lot of practice. I worked on Miss Saigon a total of 5.5 years. After 1000 performances I stopped counting. In that show I had to sing 80-85 percent, that was my training. That’s how I got my 4-year degree; I went to the University of Saigon. Every show I work on, I technically compare to Ms. Saigon.”

Tancioco is enthusiastic about the orchestration of the show. “One of most exciting things about working at 5th Avenue is that they accommodate Andrew Lloyd Webber’s original score. The music was written for 15 musicians, and they hired them. The music and sound of the show will blow your mind away.”

If not that, it’ll be the presence of 52 children and 25 adults of multiple ethnicities on stage. Fans will be glad to see familiar names such as Heather Apellanes, Marc Dela Cruz, Michael Dela Cruz and Ben Gonio listed.

“Everybody brings something different to the show,” Tancioco said. “It’s great to see Asian-American singers on stage, and when kids look in the orchestra pit, they see me! If I were a 7-year-old boy seeing the show with Jen as Narrator and some of the brothers that would give me something to dream about.”

“You don’t associate Andrew Lloyd Webber with Asian-Americans. Seattle is special, elsewhere you don’t get the same opportunity, other than playing the role of the token Asian-American,” Paz said.

“It’s encouraging,” Tancioco added.

The story is about forgiveness and redemption, but as for the message that audiences may take away from “Joseph”, Paz said: Any dream will work. It’s attainable. You have to have a dream.”

To which Tancioco added: “As the song says.”

“Joseph” runs through November 1, at 1308 5th Avenue. For information call (206) 625-1900 see www.5thavenue.org or info@5thavenue.org.

Pianist Lang Lang

Aptly named, the charismatic pianist Lang Lang—whose first name is derived from the Chinese character meaning ”brightness and sunshine” and surname, “educated gentleman”— joins the Seattle Symphony on November 1 to perform Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 2 in B flat Major, Op. 19. But before his rise to stardom lays a sweeping tale of drama and intense hardship in a country that was until recently closed to the West.

Lang Lang’s autobiography “Journey of a Thousand Miles: My Story” (Spiegel & Grau) encompasses the myriad challenges and joys in realizing his consuming passion for music. Born in the army barracks of Shenyang, China, the five-year-old Lang Lang created a world where figures like Mozart, Bach and the mythical Monkey King all co-existed in his vivid imagination: “When I saw Elvis Presley perform on television, I thought of Liszt. Liszt was a rock star—he was wild, and women swooned for him. In my imagination he raced motorcycles and flew jet planes faster than the speed of light. Liszt and Monkey King would have gotten along famously.”

In China, where classical music is more popular and recognizable than The Beatles, Lang Lang is the product of parents whose dreams were plighted by the Cultural Revolution that began in 1966 and lasted a decade. His father Lang Guoren, an accomplished erhu player who performed with the Shenyang Air Force Band, channeled his own displaced hopes into cultivating his son’s talent. His mother Zhou Xiulan also once dreamed of joining a dance or musical troupe.

In the documentary “From Mao to Mozart,” chronicling his 1979 visit to China, violinist Isaac Stern expressed telling observations on the Revolution’s aftermath. He couldn’t help noticing the deficits in ability of young musicians who were in their mid- to late teens compared with those, say, eight- or nine years old. Indeed, classical music during the Revolution was deemed unsuitable because of its imperialist associations. Music conservatories were closed; even listening to recordings was considered a crime. One of Lang Lang’s teachers told him, “…people threw the great recordings of Horowitz, Rubinstein, and Schnabel out the window and destroyed the scores.” Certainly that would affect the outcrop of musicians who had minimal exposure to the milieu of concerts and the legacy of sharing ideas with other artists.

Being “Number One” became the shared mantra of father and son, who together moved to Beijing in the hopes of having Lang Lang accepted into the conservatory. Lang Guoren went as far as eavesdropping on other students’ lessons and relaying tidbits of information to Lang Lang: “…my father became my secret agent. He’d put on his police coat from Shenyang and con his way inside the conservatory, where parents were not allowed. There, he’d check the schedule to see who was giving a master class so he could sneak into it. If a security guard caught him and escorted him out, he’d linger in the hallway and quietly reenter the room when the guard was gone. If he was ejected a second time, he’d stand outside the classroom, pressing his ear against the doorway to hear what was being played and said. He’d do the same when a well-regarded teacher gave a private lesson…In the evenings, he’d report his findings to me, and they were always helpful.”

Some propitious encounters facilitated Lang Lang’s development, such as meeting Uncle No. 2, a Beijing fruit stand owner, during times of hardship living with his father and separated from his mother. This man became a friend to the father as well, and became a buffer between Lang Lang and his father, who at times proved to be a harsh taskmaster. Other friends served as sources of inspiration for Lang Lang, such as the blind Japanese pianist he meets in Germany or the Chinese restaurateur who hosts Lang Lang and his father during a competition.

Upon his acceptance to the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia, Lang Lang began to more fully explore the spiritual aspects of music making facilitated by his teacher Gary Graffman, something that wasn’t possible when preparing for competitions and entrance exams in China. In “From Mao to Mozart: Twenty Years Later,” Stern emphasizes the “why” rather than the “what” of music during a chamber music masterclass, with the ultimate aim of “building a civilized society” rather than merely cultivating skilled musicians. Initially, the concept seemed unfathomable to Lang Lang and his father, considering the ingrained hierarchical system in China.

Now in his late twenties, Lang Lang has broadened his scope as a concert pianist to include his work with UNICEF as an International Goodwill Ambassador. He visited Zanzibar—part of Tanzania, located off the coast of East Africa—venturing beyond the chic hotels and restaurants in major metropolitan cities where concert halls are located. “During that trip, I often thought of my own difficult childhood, but my days and nights in Africa redefined the meaning of difficulty and put many things in perspective for me. I kept remembering what Kofi Annan, the [former] UN secretary-general, had told me in New York before I’d left for Africa. ‘Lang Lang,…your responsibility as an artist goes beyond music. Your art must serve people and peace’.”

Lang Lang performs with the Seattle Symphony on November 1, 2:00 pm at Benaroya Hall. For tickets or more information, call 206-215-4747 or visit www.seattlesymphony.org.