In the era of social media, gatekeeping, and identity policing and politics, it’s difficult to keep hold of your own identity without someone telling you that you’re wrong. Other times, that conflicting voice comes from inside you telling you that you don’t belong where you think you do. As a multiracial Asian American, I’ve faced doubts about my own ability to belong in the Asian American community, and about the legitimacy of calling myself Asian. It’s taken years for me to be fully comfortable with calling myself Asian without fear of being questioned, or accused of cultural appropriation.
Many young Asian Americans are facing situations such as this, like my friend Evalin, a Chinese adoptee with white parents. Where she grew up, there weren’t very many Asian role models, so whenever she did see them, she felt distanced by the fact that they weren’t exactly the same. To her, these limited role models became a monolithic Asian stereotype that she didn’t fit into. Her family is also different from what people consider to be the stereotypical Asian American family; as an adoptee, her parents are white. Unfortunately, this has caused people to think of her as being not Asian, because she wasn’t raised what they consider to be “culturally Asian”. These sentiments had bothered her before, but over time, she realized it originated from people who were playing into the idea of the monolithic Asian American, because she wasn’t acting like what people believe to be stereotypically Asian.
Helen (left) and Evalin
Stereotypes play a big role in what non-Asian people consider to be the Asian American experience. They expect Asian Americans to look and act certain ways, and when we don’t, suddenly we’re less Asian to them. To add some of my personal background, my dad was born to Cantonese parents in Nicaragua and then immigrated to the United States where he met my mom, who is white. Ethnically, I’m white and Chinese, but also Hispanic, as the child of someone from a Spanish-speaking country. I was raised in an English-speaking household where my dad only speaks Spanish occasionally, and Cantonese wasn’t even in the equation. We never celebrated the Lunar New Year, and as a kid, I never remembered culture being a big deal. Honestly, when I pictured myself as an adult, I always imagined myself as a white woman.
However, as I grew older, I ran into some cognitive dissonance. I had acknowledged that I was Asian, but I wasn’t able to reconcile that with my Hispanic side. If I was Asian, then why did I also have an abuelita? And if I was Asian, why didn’t I look like all of the other Asian people I’d seen? I grew up in a predominantly white town, and the majority of my peers were white. I considered myself to be white-passing, and the topic of my ethnicity didn’t come up all that often. When it did, the general consensus seemed to be confusion. The confusion from people around me only served to confuse me as well. I eventually came to understand that my identity didn’t have to be so rigid, and that I didn’t have to choose any part of myself over the others, that they could coexist.
In the book “The Myth of The Model Minority”, by Rosalind Chou and Joe Feagin, the authors write about how many Asian Americans have adopted a white racial framing of society, and due to this, Asian Americans are given titles like “model minority”, or “honorary white”, supposedly intended as compliments, but in reality, oppressive terms that play on existing stereotypes of the Asian American community. As a result of being constantly faced with the doubt that I was not Asian enough to call myself Asian, I played into my whiteness, internalizing a lot of racist ideas that harmed my self-esteem.
When I went to college, I saw that I wasn’t alone in what I had faced, and other people struggled with the same things as I did and I started to unlearn the harmful behaviors that I had adopted. Other things that helped make me feel more secure with myself were taking Chinese classes in order to reconnect with the heritage that had been lost to me, and by meeting people who validated my lived experience. In addition, my friend Evalin also said taking classes about Asian America, and connecting with her heritage through cooking, language, and pop culture helped her to feel more secure in her identity.
All Asian American experiences are different. We have all faced different issues, and come from different upbrings, creating an incredibly diverse community. Asian Americans are not a monolith, but each of us are a part of the Asian American community, and we have every right to call ourselves a part of something bigger.
References:
Chou, R. S., & Feagin, J. R. (2015). The Myth of The Model Minority. Paradigm Publishers.
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