When comparing myself with my younger years, I have gotten better in terms of how I associate myself with my ethnicity. That is, I have grown to accept my Korean identity while also being more comfortable with myself rather than delving into the whole “I’m not like other Asians” mentality.
Of course, at the same time, I will admit that implicit biases and internalized racism are unfortunately still prevalent within me. Sadly, from time to time, I do still struggle with “self-hatred,” or, in other words, “anti-Asian” biases.
For instance, in my prior article Beauty Standards Exist in Literary Scenes Too,” which touched upon the issue of how beauty standards are also rampant amongst literary scenes, I stated the following:
“As an overweight female Asian writer, I can’t deny the body shaming I do still experience in the San Francisco Bay Area. Even though my chapbook, Reserve the Right, was published by Nomadic Press back in January 2020, I still don’t get the same amount of recognition and literary reader invitations like the other Asian female writers who happen to be much skinnier than me.”
My intent was not to ostracize these women for their literary merits, as I continued further by clarifying that my criticism was more so towards curators creating these exclusive spaces. Yet, if you read between the lines you can still sense the implicit bias that unconsciously slipped through within this quotation. I have to admit that I still, at times, struggle with the whole “I’m not like other Asians” mentality. When reading between the lines of what I have quoted from a prior article of mine, unfortunately you can sense that I still struggle with comparing myself with other Asian female writers. Honestly, it is an issue that I am still working on. Ultimately, it all boils down to the patriarchy — the cultural climate we’re in that essentially influences me in pitting myself against other Asian women. But I also am at fault too. I should know better, yet time and time again, I still find myself slipping into unconscious anti-Asian bias.
However, I am not alone and what helps me is that there is a discourse regarding internalized racism and implicit biases.
For instance, in an interview with Cathy Park Hong regarding the peak of anti-Asian hate and her memoir Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning, Vox author Alexa Lee first includes a preface with her initial fears prior to reading Hong’s memoir by stating:
“Hong’s unflinching analysis would lay bare an uncomfortable truth about myself.”
Lee also continues with the following:
“As an East Asian American with a college-educated, upper-middle-class upbringing, I worried that Minor Feelings would confirm what I privately always feared: that, like a tree whose roots wend around rocks and intrusions in the soil, I have contorted my identity to fit into white people’s expectations of Asian women. That racism isn’t just a structural reality that I participate in, but the foundation on which I’ve built my own ambitions, desires, and interpersonal relationships.
Minor Feelings did force me to sit with these anxieties, but in a way that was both cathartic and illuminating. Hong confronts head-on how internalized racism functions for many Asian people, and explicitly outlines Asians’ “vague purgatorial status” as victims and perpetrators of America’s racial hierarchy. “Racial self-hatred is seeing yourself the way the whites see you, which turns you into your own worst enemy,” Hong writes in one essay. “You hate that there are so many Asians in the room. ‘Who let in all the Asians?’ you rant in your head.”’
What I particularly appreciated from Lee’s interpersonal analysis along with making connections with Hong’s writing is on how racism even sinks into our overall well-being and lifestyle. From goals to who we choose to build relationships with, it all can stem from how unfortunately influential these racist systems are within communities. Reading this also gave me the realization on how I, in a way, became my own enemy. I have to admit that during my high school and early undergraduate years, such thoughts like “Oh no, I thought that I was going to be the only Asian in this room” had boomed into my mind. In fact, it’s a miracle that I gradually started to change during the last two years of my undergraduate studies. Yet even then, it’s embarrassing on how I would occasionally try to seem “edgy” by making social media posts about not wanting to drink bubble tea too often so that I wouldn’t like a “typical Asian” (and yes I know — self-hatred makes one say cringey things as well). Nevertheless, I gradually shifted my perspective, which has helped me to unlearn my internalized racism and anti-Asian bias. Of course, I still have a long ways to go.
Furthermore, within the Vox interview Hong further states the following:
“We’re always learning. I’m still learning, and I still have that internalized racism that I’m constantly vigilant of checking and rechecking myself. When I was growing up, America was an unapologetic white society, and a lot of racism was left unchecked. And that’s just it. You just soak in those impressions, and it takes a long time to learn and unlearn and relearn what your reality is and really trust yourself.”
With Hong’s statement, it really helped me to identify on what I need to learn, relearn, and unlearn as well. I also appreciated Hong’s honesty, which also is helping me to be both honest and trusting of myself as well. Additionally, it is absolutely true in how, with an unapologetic white society having been (and still is) rampant in North America, we all tend to just “soak in those impressions.” It goes to show as to why, especially amongst Asian American communities, we find ourselves unconsciously submitting to white supremacy by viewing ourselves with self-hatred. And that self-hatred does not only create division within our communities but with other BIPOC communities as well. I feel that it also boils down as to why the #StopAsianHate movement has been unfortunately hijacked by anti-Black biases considering that the media specifically has been mainly highlighting anti-Asian hate crimes being committed by perpetrators who happened to be Black. Through these severe forms of division stemming from internalized biases, we continue to be polarized. In doing so, it more so enables white supremacy as we remain divided rather than allowing each other to unite as a whole in taking a stance against oppressive systems.
Additionally, throughout most of my childhood and teenage years, I found myself having to float in two different worlds. One was having to navigate through educational environments as one of the few Asians in the classrooms while the other was being the only “awkward, quiet girl” in Korean churches. Even though there were more emotionally draining days from being in a learning environment where anti-Asian racism was much more rampant, yet because I still managed to have my own community of friends, I thus “tolerated” with being in that world. Despite the racism I had faced. Whereas when it came to being a part of the Korean-American church community, I felt left out. While I generally got along with my youth group peers, on most days I felt isolated. Most of the youth group members in the Korean churches I’ve attended in the past, had always known each other since their early childhood years. Because of that, it was difficult for me to form real friendships with them. Solely because they felt the most comfortable with each other; meanwhile I felt like an “outsider.”
It also didn’t help that a few other Korean mothers would confront my mom about how they thought I had “mental problems” and that I needed “medical help” because of how awkward and quiet I was. They thought I acted “too different” and wasn’t “normal” like the other Korean girls.
Now, keep in mind, meanwhile many other Korean parents, thought that I was polite and well-behaved, and were always happy whenever I greeted them at church. Yet, because of the comments from those select few moms, my self-esteem was still negatively impacted, to which my internalized racism and anti-Asian bias gradually grew. I naively believed that I wasn’t “good enough” for my Korean community. Despite the fact that those few moms were not at all representatives of the Korean community AND that Korean church groups are just a subculture of the overall community. At the time however, like those few Korean moms with their own implicit biases, I also caved into an internalized racist mindset. And so with the other world — where I felt more “accepted” in primarily white dominated spaces, for a while I felt “content” with my internalized racism.
I of course loved (and still do) my family and I had some Asian friends (and still do as well). Yet all that did not cancel out my implicit biases. For meanwhile, I harbored all that resentment internally.
When reflecting back on my prior experiences with Korean American church communities, I have come to realize that it was more so my younger self becoming more distanced and unfazed with organized religion itself. Yet, because of my internalized anti-Asian bias, I unfortunately equated those emotions as being “outcasted” from Asian community as a whole.
To make matters worse, when I began working as a server during my early college years, I dealt with some white customers who would not only judge me for not being knowledgeable enough about Korean language and culture but would also “analyze” in how I didn’t “act” like a “real” Korean. I remember one white man, who was saying all of this in front of his Asian wife as well, telling me that my accent was so “Americanized” any time I spoke Korean.
That man’s words became the “nail in the coffin” for me in terms of my Korean learning journey. I then held so much anger towards myself. Deep down I felt ashamed that I wasn’t “Korean enough.” Yet, rather than critically assessing that their ignorance was rooted in unconscious white supremacist values (in terms of giving in to stereotyped and over-generalized views that is), especially since I did not match in how their “definition” of what it means to be an Asian woman in their eyes, I instead internally “rebelled,” using it as further fuel for my anti-Asian bias. Unfortunately, for quite some time, I projected my anger towards my own Asian community. I even made sure that my voice sounded as “white” as possible. Ironically, in a way, that was ignorant of me. Yet, because of so much self-hatred I had, it hindered my critical thinking. Had I never made the effort in holding myself accountable, I might have morphed into a very hateful person. I do not want to even think about the type of person that I could’ve become.
In summary, I am continuing to hold myself accountable for what I have internalized in the past. As stated, I thankfully unlearned all of this. However, I am still a work in progress. My internalized anti-Asian bias is still, in some ways, an ongoing battle for me. So, there is still much more for me to unlearn and learn as well. Part of that process, simply requires me in being honest about myself. Also, the more I openly write on this, it can help keep me in check. That way, I can continue molding myself into a person who would have been the type of mentor that my childhood self desperately needed.
