Dominant vs. Counter Narrative Part II: Where Do Asians Fit In?

Now that the definitions of Dominant and Counter Narratives have been established, I turn now to the exploration of the complicated place Asian-Americans seem to hold within American society.

Asians and Asian-Americans are often referred to as the "Silent Minority" or as the "Model Minority." These names come from the Asian community's tendency to help ourselves or find help without making a public fuss about it. We also strive to be what we are told to be - successful, smart, and self-sufficient. In this way, the Asian community has publicly done what society often accuses the Black and Latino/a communities of failing to achieve - assimilation into the expectations of the White Anglo culture.

Where this seems to place the Asian community into a coveted position of favor, it nonetheless also takes power away from us. How? Let's go through this piece-by-piece.

The Illusion of Self-Sufficiency: Since Asians seem to be so successful, people often believe that we do not need assistance of any sort. At school, Asian kids are seen as the smart ones, even by teachers, and can get looked over when it can be glaringly obvious that they need help. It also makes Asian kids feel like that can't or shouldn't ask for help because it will make them weak, or open them up for ridicule from the others in the class waiting to pounce on the "smart kid." I've been there. Trust me, those kids are definitely in class and waiting.

Also, the media rarely covers the plights of Asian-Americans. It is definitely, in my humble opinion, an issue that a majority of reported crimes are perpetrated by Blacks, Latinos, and lower class whites. I emphasized the word "reported" because so much more happens than is reported on the news. 

Asian-Americans are often at the news table, reporting the news, but rarely are we a part of that discourse unless it has to do with the traditional stereotypes or the brief break from it. In the political news arena, you don't hear the reporters talking about the all important Asian vote. Nominees go after the other races, women, the elderly, young people ages 18-25. It's as if the Asian-American community disappeared from the social radar the moment it was clear that we have achieved the milestones set for us by the majority, which takes me to my next point of discussion.

Invisible Men and Women: Jeremy Lin is a prime example of this very idea. Lin is an amazing basketball player, playing as a teammate before playing as a star. However, if you read a quick bio about his climb to sports fame, you'll notice that he had been ignored for years and dismissed because he didn't fit the image of the usual basketball player. His Asian ancestry ruled him out for years, denying him access to the sport he now dominates.

This invisibility is maddening, and points to the issue with race in America. Society brands you anathema if your race, overall, fails to meet the goals and expectations set by the white majority. What many people of color do not know is that, once you've done as you were told, you are ignored and still considered a bit lower than your white counter-parts. That's because the final goal and expectation is that you visually become white. It is not enough to walk and talk properly; the skin must magically change or you will never be seen as equal. 

Asians are invisible in American, especially through the persistent omission from societal discourse. In television, movies, and even books, it is rare indeed for an Asian person to be the star, or for the story to be entirely about Asians. Don't sit there and say, "What about Joy Luck Club"  and Margaret Cho's "All American Girl?" Two pieces of evidence in a vast sea of shows and movies where Asians are on the sidelines. We are wives, gay men, stuck in the friend zone, nerds, etc. We are not the heroes, the male romantic leads, the bad guys (not that we want that, but we have the capacity!), or the President. Why? Next point....

Visual Cultural Separate-ness: Our eyes are slanted. Our skin, while pale, has a decidedly golden yellow tinge. We tan like a dream. We can fit in with the dominant culture all we like, but the question on the tip of most lips when meeting a person of Asian decent is: Where are you from? This question is loaded with the notion of alienness, that we are obviously different and therefore cannot possibly be American. Add to this the problem of Asians not speaking the same language as most other races do, and this is prominent reason for the usual hands-off approach to Asians in America.

There are two pieces to the racial puzzle - ethnicity and nationality. Ethnically, I am Thai. That is the country of origin for most of my family, and the home of my second language. Nationalistically, I am American. I was born in America, so therefore, my country of origin is America. "Where are you from?" suggests that most believe it is not possible that I am American, nor does it suggest that saying "I am American" in response is enough. Those of you who are Asian-American know exactly what I'm talking about. If you answer "I am American," it is immediately followed up with "well, you know what I mean. Where are you from?" *sigh* Ok, I'm ranting. I need to stop before I'm penalized with an emotion card.

Why does all this matter? I've actually been asked that by another Thai person. Why does it matter that Asians are not a focus? Why does it matter that we don't band together more tightly like other races? Simple. Divided, we are invisible and ignored. Politicians will work on laws and policies for the other races and cultures; Asians will not factor into their thoughts. Media will tell everyone else's modern stories. Asian will remain the subject of mystery and intrigue a la Kung Fu movies, Anime, and Slumdog Millionaire. Forget about Southeast Asia. Forget about modern China and how it has moved past the Cultural Revolution. Forget that India does more than hold cows sacred and answer your tech support needs. 

We need to care, because, if we don't, no one else will, and right now, no one even knows who we really are.