From one Vietnamese American’s perspective.

What does it mean to be Asian American? 

I think being Asian American means always being in a state of constant identity limbo.

Living in America, I find myself having two identities, navigating through them both day in and day out, but never truly fitting into either.

Speaking from only my experience and of those around me, as a person of Asian descent, specifically of Vietnamese descent, there are times when I feel I am not completely accepted within my community. Factors such as language barrier, not knowing the full history of my motherland, and not being born or having faced the immigrant livelihood–specifically, the loss of a country and coming to a new one to assimilate into–are the very things that keep me at arms length from the generation before me. 

On the other hand, for the American half of my identity, I find myself obviously not belonging into the fabric of this society because I do not look white, nor do people think I am American because, when one asks the question, “when you think of an American, do you see a yellow face?” We know what that answer is.

This struggle of not belonging to either of these contrasting and oftentimes opposite lifestyles, mentality, cultures, and identities makes being an Asian American a unique phenomenon.

It is hard to be an Asian American because of 3 main reasons. One, our problems are largely ignored by the mainstream media because when compared to the larger picture of racial conflicts in America, our plight can never be measured up to the sufferings of African, Latin, or Middle Eastern Americans. Moreover, because we are still people of color, we can never be fully accepted into the American society. Lastly, even within our own communities, such as our family and parents, we are disconnected because we do not share the same experiences, language, culture, identities, generation, mindset, and values as they do.

Let me give an example for each of those three issues.

1. Ignored by the Mainstream Media

When it comes to the racial injustices committed against minorities or people of color, Asian Americans are fortunate enough to never have to deal with police brutality or the killings or brutal beatings of citizens within their ethnic or racial communities. Occasions such as the brutal murder of Vincent Chin by disgruntled workers; Doctor Dao being dragged off the United airlines flight; and recently, violent acts brought upon Asian people due to the coronavirus having started in China, an Asian country, are never covered and discussed on a widespread national level.

While these incidences do not occur quite as often as violence committed upon black or brown people, these actions inflicted on Asian Americans are still forms of racism, discrimination, and injustice that still deserve to be covered, recognized, discussed, and acknowledged.

However, the unfortunate truth is, of course, the idea that Asians are the model minority in America. That despite us facing racism, discrimination, and injustice too, the rare occasion to which they happen and the fact that many of us do so well in the American system–churning out successful citizens who serve the overall society with prestigious careers: doctors, lawyers, pharmacists, and computer engineers–we have it better off than other minorities. Nevertheless, such arguments dismiss the horrible behaviors we deal with too.

Racism happens to us too. And we don’t like it either; neither should w have to be forced to keep our heads down and just deal with it.

For instance, just because an Asian woman is deemed beautiful while her Asian male counterpart is not, doesn’t mean that she is respected. She is still exotic, fetishized, fancied as being foreign. That doesn’t make me feel valued, cherished, loved, or even human.

Think of it this way, guys always point out that girls have it easier when it comes to the dating world. An average-looking girl would never be starved of male attention on online dating. Regardless, that doesn’t mean that she particularly enjoys the attention she may receive on that platform. Attention from creepers, stalkers, and weirdoes is not at all flattering or even welcomed. At times, it can even be threatening, dangerous, and yes, deadly as well. Any attention at all doesn’t mean it’s good attention and that alone is not a positive thing. Women having attention from all the wrong people is not a good thing; in other words, attention just for attention’s sake is not a good thing.

Similarly, just because Asian people may be more successful in America when it comes to prestigious careers and doing well in school, doesn’t mean we are doing very well in America. Not experiencing racism in one area that another racial group experiences racism, doesn’t mean we do not experience racism and discrimination in other areas of our lives, too. When it comes to applying to college and jobs, or getting promoted, we are discriminated against too. On top of facing that, we are also expected to be silent and obedient citizens too; don’t talk back, keep your head down, or risk punishment.

Put in another way, racism is like cancer. All cancer is bad. Despite breast cancer receiving more attention and coverage and funding than a rare type of cancer, that doesn’t mean that the rare cancer isn’t killing its victims either.

Now, I would like to discuss the issues of not belonging into either identities of our overall, collective Asian American identity. I’m going to give a personal example to make it more meaningful and understandable. Perhaps maybe even relatable (?).

2. Not Accepted into the American Society

As a result of the Vietnam War, my parents had to immigrate to America. Navigating through life with the Vietnamese American identity has been difficult, and fraught with misunderstandings and tension, especially when it comes to my relationship with my parents. This conflict is not unique to me and my parents though. They are also present in many relationships between Vietnamese American children and their immigrant parents. One well-known Vietnamese American author and a professor at the University of Southern California, Viet Thanh Nguyen, taught me that the way a Vietnamese parent expresses “I love you” is to ask “have you eaten yet?” rather than hugging or offering a physical form of love.

Growing up and being raised in the American culture and society via school, I had always craved the physical touch that I saw on television that my own parents denied to me. I found myself always hating that question (“have you eaten yet?”) because from my point of view, I found it as an annoying nag or my mother, specifically, thinking that the only thing that mattered was that our bellies are full. I wanted to be loved by being told directly so, to be embraced, or to feel their touch. Moreover, it made me think–with my independent American mindset–that it was insulting. What, did she think I couldn’t take care of myself and be able to feed my own body? However, after hearing Viet Thanh Nguyen’s explanation, I felt the tugs of my homeland, an understanding of my mother country’s history, and the warmth of this different form of love in my own flesh. 

I became saddened and disheartened that I hadn’t understood that having a full belly meant “I love you” spoken in the tongue of my own culture. I began to realize all the times I felt ashamed of my culture, history, bloodline, genes, eye color, hair, face, and clothing. When the show Fresh Off the Boat was released in 2014, the first episode resonated with a lot of Asian Americans and with me. The specific scene? The one where Eddie is chastised, mocked, and bullied for bringing his “stinky” noodles to the American cafeteria table.

I had experienced something similar growing up in America as well. I do not remember this story because I was so young, but my father once told me that one afternoon he had come to pick me up instead of my mother. My Kindergarten teacher had chased after us and had asked my father, “what language do you speak to your daughter at home?” My father had answered, “Vietnamese” and upon that response, my Kindergarten teacher promptly told him that it’s no wonder I hadn’t been doing so well in class. She said that if I didn’t learn how to speak proper English, I’d never be able to go to college or ever be successful. That day, my father drove me home looking into the rear view mirror, crying, fearful that his daughter would not amount to anything if she continued speaking Vietnamese in America.

When I heard that story, it upset me. It perpetuated this false idea that in order to be successful in America, Asians had to fully assimilate into the American culture, which meant erasing who they are or part of who they are, or were. And I don’t agree with that message. In high school, students are required to take a second language class. Knowing a second language is an extraordinary and helpful skill. Not only is it useful when traveling and for work when necessary, it also helps connect you to your family and community.

Additionally, why is it that a person who is not a person of color, usually the one who gets to decide how people of color succeed in America? America is a melting pot and what makes this country great time and time again as seen over the course of this country’s history is it’s collection of different cultures and languages; its diversity. For example, America was able to successfully fight World War II because of its Filipino, Japanese, and Navajo citizens. Moreover, why do I have to forget who I am and my own motherland to fully be an American? In order to be successful here in America? Why?

3. Not Accepted into Our Own Community

And by forgetting the language of my homeland, it makes being an Asian American even harder. Many people in my generation know the annoyance of meeting an adult from our community who ridicule or look down on us because we do not speak or have forgotten our native tongue. I can’t tell you all the times I have met an adult who’s given me the lecture of “See? She doesn’t speak Vietnamese as well or anymore because all she speaks is English all day at school and with her friends.” I actually speak better-than-average Vietnamese, but my siblings, especially my younger sister does not fare the same as I do.

This confusion of growing up at home with Vietnamese parents, being taught how to speak Vietnamese and how to behave like a proper Vietnamese person (for instance, bowing at your elders; taking off your shoes at the door; how to address your elders; the annual gift of the red envelope during new years) are seen as “other” by the very American system Asian American children are raised and educated in outside their Asian homes and families. It’s a perplexing process and situation.

To be the good Asian child, you must be respectful to your parents and remember your homeland’s culture, traditional clothing, and language. Yet when you go into American educational institutions such as elementary, middle, and high school, you are perceived as different, mocked, and even bullied if you act, speak, or dress differently from the American way of life.

That includes wearing your traditional garments; speaking a language other than English at school; or bringing anything other than hamburgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, pizza, or mac and cheese to lunch at school. 

When you go home to your community, you are ridiculed for forgetting where you came from and your language or behaving differently then what was taught. When you go to school, you are laughed at for being different, or denied certain opportunities in your professional career. These are some of the struggles of the Asian American identity that’s never been discussed or analyzed fully, torn apart, studied, and dissected piece by piece. This is why it is difficult to be Asian American because on top of these struggles, we have to fight against the stereotype of being the model minority and trying to speak up when we’re expected to shut up and keep our heads down. How many people know our story, our experience, our plight? How many think of us in times of racial tension or strife? How can we ever change our social standing?

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In honor of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage month, this is my blog post to celebrate this month. I hope you guys enjoy this read and if you are comfortable, you can share with me your experiences of being Asian American or emailing them. If you chose to email me, I, of course, will assume you want our exchange to be private and will respect your wish and never disclose your identity. These experiences, stories, and your voices deserve to be heard. As an Asian American, do not stay silent; speak up and be proud. Thank you for reading this post!