The Grifters in Our Midst?

Asian American women on the neighborhood’s new racial tension

Juliette Bui was going to go out to Union Pool on Friday—and in fact, she did. But first, she hesitated. “I thought, ‘Oh my god, should I even go to Union Pool? Those are her old stomping grounds?’”
Bui, like other Asian American women in North Brooklyn, feared that she would be mistaken or just plain mocked for her ever-so-slight resemblance to a wanted criminal known in pop culture parlance as “The Hipster Grifter.” Really, the only thing Juliette Bui, a Vietnamese American, has in common with Kari Ferrell is the continent that her ancestors hail from and the neighborhoods—Williamsburg and Greenpoint—that she hangs out in.
A 22-year-old from Utah, Kari Ferrell, like so many discontented suburban youths before her, moved to New York seeking adventure. But she didn’t have the dough. To pay for her dreams, she “grifted” off friends—lying to them that she had been diagnosed with cancer and needed the money for medical costs or would pay them back. According to the Salt Lake City police, she racked up $60,000 dollars of bad checks, forgery, and other crimes. Her victims were often white men in their mid-twenties, who were willing to give Ferrell the cash because, they reported, she was “charming” and believable. Most of Ferrell’s “friends” and victims lived in the neighborhood, thus their stories of these encounters were set at bars such as Coco66 and Union Pool.
Still, Farrell’s crime spree would not have affected women like Greenpoint’s Juliette Bui if the coverage had ended there—with an account of a criminal.
First reported on a blog at Vice Magazine, which is located on North 10th street and briefly employed Ferrell before doing a background search of her, it was picked up in The New York Observer as a profile under the headline, “The Hipster Grifter.” The snippy blog, Gawker, went on to dissect it ad nauseum—and thus Kari Ferrell became a full-blown media sensation.
In the first description of Farrell that occurred in the original profile, Observer reporter Doree Shafrir highlighted that Ferrell was “of Korean heritage.” Hyphen Magazine, which focuses on Asian-American culture analyzed the way that the article placed her race, arguing that it portrayed “‘cute Asian girls…as perfect hipster bait.” When the blog hypothesized as to why the story had become such a media sensation, the authors wondered “Is it because she’s Asian and unsuspecting?“—the conventional racist stereotype being that Asian women are submissive, and therefore appealing as sexual partners.
“It’s a fetish that has been around a while,” said Jin Moon, a Greenpoint resident. “She just exploited that.” But Disgrasian, a blog run out of California by two Asian American women, called the theory that Ferrell’s race had duped men into handing over cash “ludicrous.” “We’ve seen Asian fetishes rot many things—most notably a man’s appeal—but common sense…?” wrote Disgrasian. The scam, they purported, was not about using her race and should not be made into a racial story.
Still, the racial divide between Ferrell and her victims became a heavy element of most of the coverage. The weekend after the story broke, Gawker blogger Patrice Evans ventured to Williamsburg and interviewed an Asian woman “Have you ever done any grifting in your life?” he asked her in a video. What could she say? She joked: “That’s my halloween costume.” He went on to ask a white man if he thought Ferrell was “praying on hipsters who seem to have an Asian fetish.” “Well, we all do,” the man said, lightly. “This isn’t a set up because I’m racist?”
This open mockery of a sexual fetish made some Asian women in the neighborhood uncomfortable. It seemed to tune in to the other stereotype—that of the “Dragon Lady,” which came about before World War II and depicted an evil, calculating woman.
Jin Moon, however, took possession of the racial dialogue. She became a “Board Member” of the Korean Hipster Fan Club on Facebook.com, which was founded by a white comedian, and she jokes about Ferrell, “I would have liked to introduce her to a few guys.” At a speed-dating event at a Greenpoint Avenue bar, the MC—Moon’s friend—announced to the group that later that night, the Hipster Grifter would show up. The only person who showed up was Moon, an Asian woman. It was a weird situation to walk into but Moon wasn’t uncomfortable—she found the whole thing funny. “Some of them actually believed I was the Hipster Grifter. So dumb.”
Still, Asian American women who hang out with the neighborhood’s tattooed set will forever be battling with this stereotype, which has now been brought out in the open. “This is a predominantly white neighborhood,” said Juliette Bui, of the Greenpoint blocks where she currently lives. “And if you’re another race, you’re going to be uncomfortable.” But she’ll deal with the weird looks, she’ll endure comments from friends telling her that if she just got a “couple more tattoos” she could pass as Ferrell.
“There are a few Asian stereotypes,” said Bui. “And now she has become a new one.” Maybe, she wonders, the new stereotype could be a good thing—it doesn’t show Asians as computer geeks or submissive workers, but as charming deviants—lovable Al Capones—capable of outsmarting everyone.
Still, it’s a new stereotype—and one which North Brooklyn’s female Asian population will forever have to face.