Asian^American
The hyphen in “Asian-American” has historically intended to represent the complex assimilation of Asian culture to Americanism, a unifying bridge that allows one to explore the spectrum between two contrasting cultures. Instead, it seems I have begun to notice the effects of a heavily guarded tunnel on both ends that constrains one to remain in an ambiguous nebula. During my time at USC, I have noticed layered inconsistencies in the Asian-American community. Plenty solely spend time amongst themselves, have not exposed themselves to their native cultures, and are far from fluent in reading and writing their cultures’ languages — all while considering themselves “not Asian” but White people to be “too White.” Witnessing these circumstances makes me question if there is a societal divide far too great between these cultures for us to treat the hyphen alternatively as a caret: a catalyst for the individual to fully experience both cultures to synthesize their own unique identity within the spectrum of Asian-Americanism. Do we lack the platform of cultural solidarity to freely conduct this nuanced self-searching?
I was fortunate enough to undergo this process without the complete societal acceptance of multiculturalism due to my balanced exposure to American and Korean culture. I attended elementary school in Korea and finished the rest of my primary education in Cranbury and Princeton, New Jersey. My parents spent close to 10 years apart to put me through the American education system, where my father remained in Korea for work and my mother raised me in the States. While I am extremely thankful for the opportunities and experiences my parents provided, I undoubtedly experienced racism and racist microaggressions when I first moved. Classmates would point out my Asian accent, other town residents would look at me in an eerie way that sometimes felt alienating, and I was often asked “what Asian” I am. Derek Iwamoto and William Liu recognize the potential harm of my experiences and those similar to psychological well-being, “racism and intolerance directly contribute to mental illness by exacerbating anxiety and depression” (Iwamoto and Liu 81). Their study examines the factors and characteristics of Asian-Americans that can either magnify or diminish these impacts. Iwamoto and Liu’s conclusions underscore the importance of our sense of ethnic identity affirmation and belonging (EI-AB metric), adherence to Asian values (AVS-R metric), and conformity and dissonance attitudes.
The actions I took following my initial experiences upon moving to New Jersey would place me high on the EI-AB and AVS-R metrics. High values indicate a clearer “sense of ethnic background and what it means for me” and “higher self-actualization and acceptance,” respectively (Iwamoto and Liu 83–84). Although I made efforts to assimilate and digest American culture, I never did so at the expense of neglecting Korean culture and the fluency of the language. Looking back, I also seemed to have accepted aspects of my upbringing in a race and ethnicity perspective. As much as I adored my friends and peers, I inherently looked different from those that are not Asian, was used to taking my shoes off in the house, eating with chopsticks, and speaking a non-English language to my mother; these differences were difficult to ignore.
Works Cited
Freire, Paulo. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Translated by Myra Bergman Ramos, Continuum, 2000.
Pincus, Fred L., and Howard J. Ehrlich. Race and Ethnic Conflict : Contending Views on Prejudice, Discrimination, and Ethnoviolence. Westview Press, 1994.
Iwamoto, Derek Kenji, and William Ming Liu. “The Impact of Racial Identity, Ethnic Identity, Asian Values, and Race-Related Stress on Asian Americans and Asian International College Students’ Psychological Well-Being.” Journal of Counseling Psychology, vol. 57, no. 1, 2010, pp. 79–91, https://doi.org/10.1037/a0017393.
