When I was in the fifth grade, my teacher pulled six students, including me, out of the classroom to discuss something separately. She began by introducing the topic as a secret, saying we should not repeat what we were about to hear to the other students left in the classroom. With a few nods and confused gazes, she proceeded to explain that we were to skip recess that afternoon and instead participate in “gifted” testing. As fifth graders, we weren’t quite sure what it meant to be tested as a “gifted” student. However, by reading the letters sent home to our parents, we were able to realize that it meant we were special in some way and that our teachers had high expectations of us. Curious to know what I could possibly be in trouble for, my classmates pestered me throughout the week until I finally gave in. After admitting to them that it was a test to examine if I was eligible to be in upper-level math courses, I could see the disappointment in their expressions as their shoulders slugged and their mouths responded with a simple “oh.”
“That’s boring. Of course you got tested for that. You’re Asian.”
I looked at my friends and we all chuckled. That was a funny joke.
A joke.
… But was it?
Growing up in predominantly white suburban neighborhoods, I became desensitized to stereotyping jokes and racial slurs. I grew up thinking that they were funny jokes — that my friends were just teasing. I was blinded by an image that is socially constructed and wrongly endorsed.
“Of course she’s good at geometry, she’s Asian.”
“Wow, Karen, you got a B? Isn’t that like an F to you?”
“Why aren’t you in orchestra? Shouldn’t you be good at the violin?”
I was numb.
Model minority — it’s all just a distorted image. There’s this veil around my shoulders that defines who I am before I even have a chance to introduce myself. I’m swallowed by stereotypical expectations that are apparently inherent to my nature when, in fact, I haven’t even started to discover who I really am.
So who am I? I am Asian American.
I am part of the model minority. I am perceived to be part of a group that is exemplary as many of my race have been known to highly succeed in the academic and occupational arenas. I am stereotypically seen to be more mathematically and scientifically inclined. I am supposed to be very educationally driven. I am expected to be musically talented.
But it’s a compliment!
No. It’s not.
Some may argue that a lot of the racism Asians face is not, in fact, racism because they involve “positive” characteristics. For example, stereotypical racist comments such as being good at math and being exceptionally intelligent are supposedly compliments and therefore not considered racist. They may argue that being considered the model minority is a good thing and that we should be grateful for the facade granted to us. These are ignorant and uneducated beliefs that do not consider the realities that Asians as a minority face. Racism cannot and should not be justified by its supposedly positive connotations. Not all Asian Americans grow up with the same circumstances, nor do we all have the same intellectual abilities. With model minority membership, we are assumed to have privileges and advanced capabilities. This is a conclusion drawn from ill-justified opinions that cannot be used as an excuse to legitimize racist thinking. In fact, this distorted image is detrimental to psychological health and brings heavy mental stress. When we as Asian Americans are expected to be above average simply due to our physical characteristics, we are pressured. We are pressed between walls with no room to discover ourselves by our own definitions. We are to fulfill certain standards that have been defined for us by those looking from the outside. We are defined by invalid generalizations and oppressed by the social institutions that endorse these generalizations.
The distorted image, in fact, creates somewhat of a cognitive dissonance to my psychological state of being. One part of me grips onto the social definitions of who I am. The other part breaks society’s rules and creates a new, unique identity. This dissonance shakes me until I finally realize that I don’t align with the social definitions I am expected to fulfill.
So who am I really? I am Asian American.
But I’m also not — in society’s terms. I’m really bad at any and every instrument there possibly is. My parents attempted to improve my musical senses by exposing me to the piano when I was young, but after six years of rigorous lessons and performances, I couldn’t develop a skill or a passion. In high school, I got a B in Algebra 2 and that was with an incredible amount of work and studying. I do, however, devote a great amount of time and effort to the things I am passionate about. My results aren’t always exceptional, but they are true reflections of my best abilities. Over the past years of feeling numb to such racial discrimination, I have come to realize that social definitions do not constitute for my personal identity. I can create my own characteristics and qualities — they don’t have to be predetermined. To all the other Asian Americans suffering their own types of cognitive dissonance: There is always room in between the pressing walls to be someone you create.
This is not only a personal issue, but also a social one. The image given to Asian Americans is an illusion, and once that veil is stripped many will be able to see that we are just struggling humans. The success of all Asian Americans is not “natural,” not all of us have the abilities to attend a prestigious university or to accept offers from big name companies and firms. Those who do, however, work for their results. We are constantly aware of our place in this society and the discrimination we face from illegitimate social constructions. Thus, we push ourselves to work that much harder to achieve average and above-average results. So to those who assume that the Asian student sitting in class got a better grade simply because good grades are inherent to the color of her skin, I would like to remind you that social identities are only minuscule in effect. Next time consider the fact that she is not just Asian, but perhaps also a diligent worker.