Raving and the Asian Experience

Raving, at its core, is about escaping from reality. For Californians, with some of the highest rates of academic stress in the country, it can be an way to break free from societal expectations. California, especially the Bay and SoCal, also houses high concentrations of Asian-Americans. Compounding upon this academic stress, many Asian youths in these areas are children of immigrants, facing immense pressure to succeed academically and financially in order to honor the sacrifices their parents have made. The “model minority” myth plays a role in this, creating a stereotype that Asians must be hardworking, intelligent, and highly successful.

Enter raves, which offer sweet relief from the suffocating pressure of living up to this myth and your parents’ expectations. Rave culture, with its emphasis on Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect, offers a sense of community and acceptance that’s hard to find in the cutthroat world. This welcoming atmosphere pairs with kinship and representation, as many popular artists who perform at raves are Asian, like Steve Aoki and Knock2. It’s a chance to shed the limitations and stress imposed by society and feel represented with others who understand the struggle.

The ABG Dilemma

Now let’s talk about ABGs. Take a second to think of how you would define ABG. If you thought of a “basic” asian girl with a balayage and long nails, you’d be wrong. Originally, the term ABG, or Asian Baby Gangsta referred to a stereotype rooted in Southeast Asian gang culture, associated with tattoos and heavy makeup. This image directly contradicted the traditional, idealized image of submissive, docile Asian women. This was a derogatory term, as Southeast Asians were viewed as the less desirable, more exotic relatives of East Asians. Due to the concentrated settlement of Southeast Asian immigrants and refugees into lower income areas, they were often pushed into life in a gang. Even after caving to institutional pressures, they were subsequently mocked for it—hence the term ABG.

Nowadays, the term is used in a much looser way, diluted to “Asian Baby Girl,” although it still has negative connotations. ABG is now used to describe any Southeast/East Asian girl who plays Valorant, drinks boba, and raves. At first, Asian women attempted to reclaim it, in a sense, rejecting the model minority myth’s rigid characterization of their demographic. It was a way to rebel and state you were outside of the “Asian quiet nerd” stereotype, but this reclamation was misguided as it disregarded the history behind the word. This act of reclamation led to the dilution of the term and the overuse we see today. Now used as an insult in place of “basic,” the current use of ABG erases its history of Southeast Asian poverty, stigma around gangs, and misogyny.

The rampant use of ABG in our current era of TikTok and Yubo is heavily associated with raving and, as a result, is also negatively associated with all the negative stereotypes of new ravers. However, the appeal of raving to Asian-Americans and the reclamation of the term ABG is bastardized, as people mock and ridicule

The Pandemic and Asian Hate

We all remember that one thing that happened in 2020. Along with the plethora of other hardships it brought, somewhere along the way, PLUR died. 

“PLUR is dead” is a common phrase used to discuss the new wave of ravers and the entirely new scene that seems to have emerged recently. A flood of TikToks after last year’s Escape Halloween festival ranted about people shoving, stealing, and being overall rude at the event. Many attribute this cultural death to the pandemic, as it severely limited the scope of raves and therefore prohibited the spread of knowledge about PLUR. Now, as influencers and social media have popularized rave festivals on a larger scale, more and more “baby ravers” have not yet learned PLUR ethics.

The pandemic also brought with it an extreme rise in anti-Asian hate and discrimination due to sinophobia, pointing fingers at Asian people as a monolith who “caused” the pandemic. This unfounded blame is linked to the reintroduction of Asian ravers into the scene post-pandemic. Thus, from the perfect storm of hate, fear, and isolation, the “cause of the pandemic” also became “cause of the death of PLUR.”

So, Is PLUR Dead?

In my opinion, no. Well, not quite. Maybe it’s taking a little nap, but it’s definitely not gone forever. The pandemic may have thrown some curveballs at rave culture, but PLUR still has a pulse. It’s just up to all of us to keep it alive.  It’s highly ironic to mock Asian-Americans for finding a common hobby and interest, while blaming them for the death of a culture built on tolerance and love. And honestly, if you think PLUR is dead, step up  and be the PLUR you wish to see. Teach the new generation of ravers the true meaning of peace, love, unity, and respect. The real killer of PLUR is us, if we don’t end this divisive vitriol.