Self-identity for Asian Americans is a tricky thing. If we were to assume the false characterizations and negative stereotypes which have been created by the media or by historical propaganda, we would simply be "obedient servants," Charlie Chans, kung-fu fighting/chop suey-eating gang members, Geisha-girl silent spies, wimpy computer geeks and the like. On the other hand, if we were to assume all the ubiquitous trappings and values of White American ideals, it would only serve as a June Cleaver masquerade, a Betty Crocker fictional character, a Barbie Doll outfit or some other exaggerated image that obscures and denies the uniqueness of our inherited culture and sensibility. The conflict surrounding modern Asian American identity, in a country which has repeatedly demonstrated its hatred and wishful dominance towards us, is one of rebellious pride yet also often sadly mixed with a residual sense of self-contempt. For every non-white culture in America, self-identity becomes a complex but noble process of reconciling and reclaiming our distorted history, a redefining of ourselves which reflects a fuller and more realistic self-image. But how do we grapple with these issues and where does the source of change come from? Asian Americans who were born after the Civil Rights Movement grow up today in a more politically correct environment, yet are still faced with an onslaught of hate crime episodes and subtler forms of institutional racism. Within the family, language and customs often disappear and what remains is half-learned traditions, half-known family members, half-tolerant neighborhoods and half-realized self-images which inevitably exist in a place between "what is lost and what gets found." All of these things become ripe for investigation. Accused of being totally superficial, Generation X Asian Americans are forced today to create their internal reality from all of these volatile elements in addition to fabricating an external reality from pop culture icons, MTV imagery, the effects of divorce, the reality of AIDS, the new political activism, and technology as bodily extension. The search for identity and continuity is often an attempt at just making sense of the chaos! Young Asians relocating to America are also challenged by the immediate necessity of modifying their behavior in social situations and becoming aware of significant cultural differences. Suddenly immersed in an environment which assigns and labels specific characteristics to us as a race, the experience is filled with contradictions and an ambiguous self-consciousness. For better or worse, identity becomes irremediably fragmented and ideas of place, of home, of shifting personas, of heritage all come into question. As Asian America itself becomes progressively diverse, new concerns emerge and many familiar ones are bound to be revisited and reconsidered. Addressing many of these ideas was crucial to our series of images entitled, Play the Game (You Can't Win). We envisioned Asian American culture today as a sort of "push-pull" test -- an awareness of how acts of racism have influenced who we are, yet a refusal to play the victim role. It is a relentless game, a formidable challenge, which requires intelligence, strategy, strength and no doubt, lots of sportsmanship. Our intention is to place the history and truth of racism within the context of recognizable games and puzzles so that the interplay between ironic fun and frustration would be metaphorically emphasized. We attempt to portray racist hate using the hangman game imagery and to depict, with a tic-tac-toe game, how Asian Americans are assimilated by cultural brainwashing in Racist Love. The contrast between reality and the stereotypes about female and male Asian Americans are illustrated with mazes and puzzles in Song For My Brother and Miss America. We symbolically displayed the effects of severed family ties as an incomplete deck of playing cards, an existence residing in a haunting and unstable House of Cards. Wordplay conveying the idea of our history having been the property and development of others is examined in Monopoly of Culture. Paint By Number and word finding games in Find Your Fate are meant to communicate the history of Anti-Asian laws and derogatory name calling. Lastly, we account for some slang terms which have been used to describe aspects of the Asian American experience in our version of a crossword puzzle. The visual clues and verbal puns of this series were designed to humorously yet poignantly illustrate the process of discovering and uncovering our collective subjectivity. These pieces express our irreverent outrage but also, hopefully covey a bit of optimism towards how we will define ourselves as Asian Americans in the future.   --Sharon Tani & Merlin Lembong   Sharon Tani, a half-Chinese American/half-Japanese American artist, has lived and worked in the San Francisco, New York and Los Angeles areas. She received undergraduate degrees from San Francisco State University in English Literature and Fine Art Photography. Using traditional, digital and alternative media, she is currently developing work as an MFA candidate at the Art Center College of Design in CA. Merlin Lembong was born in Indonesia, raised in the Chinese tradition, and educated in the United States over the past seven years. She received her BFA in Graphic Design from California College of Arts and Crafts. Working for two years in San Francisco, she has been trained in multiple design disciplines. She is currently an MFA candidate at the Art Center College of Design in CA.