The Committee of 100, a nonprofit focused on promoting the full participation of Chinese Americans in society, has announced that the iconic cast of The Joy Luck Club will reunite at its upcoming conference and gala in Los Angeles on April 25.
The event will honor the cast with the Cultural Icon Award and feature a live conversation, led by journalist and TV personality Lisa Ling. Janet Yang, president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, will present the award.
Released in 1993, The Joy Luck Club—based on Amy Tan’s bestselling novel—was a groundbreaking film for its portrayal of Asian American experiences in Hollywood. Featuring a mostly Asian cast, it broke barriers and continues to be a defining work when it comes to Asian American representation in film.
Joining the conversation will be the four actresses who played the daughters in the film: Rosalind Chao (Rose Hsu Jordan), Lauren Tom (Lena St. Clair), Tamlyn Tomita (Waverly Jong), and Ming-Na Wen (Jing-Mei Woo).
The Joy Luck Club reunion is no cause for celebration. Given how poor most Asian representation in media has been, it’s tempting to feel grateful for any mainstream success, but not when it comes by reinforcing stereotypes and selling out the truth. Amy Tan built her success by throwing Asian men under the bus and glorifying white men, crafting a narrative that pandered to white audiences at the expense of her own community. She intentionally portrayed at least four Asian male characters as nerdy, weak, and undesirable, reinforcing the same old racist stereotypes. And she didn’t just depict flawed families in general, she painted Asian family life itself as uniquely dysfunctional and something to be laughed at.
Meanwhile, the white male characters were portrayed as flawed but kind, depicted as “saviors ” who were calm, emotionally generous, and offered as a safe refuge from the supposed horror of Asian life. It was a deliberate contrast, not grounded in truth, but constructed to make white readers feel comfortable, noble, and superior.
Tan hides behind claims of “personal experience,” but that’s just an unverifiable excuse , there’s no proof, only her word, which conveniently shields her from criticism. Her word rings hollow when the result is a pile of racist caricatures served up for white consumption. This wasn’t just about selling books, it reflects her deeper need to seek validation from white America due to her own insecurity. She didn’t challenge stereotypes; she performed them. She didn’t break barriers; she reinforced them by willingly cooperating with the dominant racist narrative and selling out her own for personal gain. She was the Uncle Tom, not the disruptor.
Tan’s book trashes her mother, portraying her as erratic, superstitious, and emotionally manipulative. Yet she is, in so many ways, her mother, or at least the version of her mother she chose to depict. The same internalized shame, the same shallow obsession with status and need for approval. What she condemned, she inherited and repackaged not to heal, but to sell.
This isn’t representation, it’s a performance of racism tailored for white approval, and she executed it perfectly, gaining wealth and fame in the process. Once again, Uncle Tom. And no reunion or retrospective will change that. Thanks, but no thanks.
Open to the public?