The Definition(s) of Asian American

Check your race: the fine line between community and erasure

By: Ariana Nguyen

In 1998, Disney’s “Mulan” was released. I was born five years later. Despite the fact that I had Asian representation before I was even conceived, I always found myself yearning for more. It felt like my white peers had endless characters to choose from while I had to actively search for my own. Mulan was one of very few characters who I could turn to when I wanted to fill that void. She looked just a little bit more like me than the other princesses did. She ate food that almost looked like my food. It wasn’t the same, but it was familiar enough, so I claimed it as mine. 


As I get older, I start to wonder about the extent to which I am represented by these scraps that have been thrown at me. 


Kdramas and Kpop have earned a place in mainstream media, and boba and Pocky have risen from obscurity. The way that Asian Americans are viewed in the West is evolving. There’s no denying the impact that “Mulan” had over two decades ago, and “Shang Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings” is another monumental movie on a growing list. Content by and for Asian Americans should continue to grow, but there is a problematic belief, popular in Western society, that representing one Asian experience will be enough to represent them all. 


This is one of many consequences of how Asian Americans are perceived. 


“All Asians look the same” is a sentiment that has been echoed throughout my life. If this statement is true, it begs the question, what does this quintessential Asian look like? There is no right answer to this question. Asian Americans are incredibly diverse, made up of numerous ethnicities. Southeast Asians do not look the same as South Asians, and they both differ from East Asians. Furthermore, Chinese, Korean, and Japanese are all unique and distinct ethnicities. 


Each ethnicity has specific features, dishes, and cultures, but they are too often thrown into a blender to fit into one word: “Asian.”


For decades the Model Minority Myth has been the face of the Asian American experience, praising us for a natural inclination for intelligence and prioritization of hard work. This success story is a gilded cage that serves to hide the struggles that Asian Americans experience. The economic disparities within Asian American communities go unacknowledged, and Asian Americans with darker skin have to fight to be seen as Asian. Our histories—the Chinese Exclusion Act, the Japanese Internment Camps—are replaced by a story of the American Dream, promoting a “pull yourself up from your bootstraps” mentality that minimizes the systematic racism Asian Americans and other minorities face. 


This pattern of broad and vague categorizations can be observed with other non-European continents. While German and Italian are seen as distinctly different, Nigerian and Ethiopian are not treated with the same respect. When people think of the indigenous land they stand on, they rarely know the name of the tribe. It seems that white cultures are worth knowing and exploring, but non-white cultures do not recieve the same amount of care. 


There are cases where racial labels are able to serve a purpose. There are shared experiences that exist among Asian American communities that go beyond genetics or geography. There is shared food and culture. We have similar struggles: language barriers, familial structures, experiences with racism. These shared experiences create a sense of solidarity, community, and safety. However, when used without proper care or context, this label can no longer be used to define us.


I am Asian American, but I am also Vietnamese. There is an overlap in these definitions, but they are not synonymous. The Asian American community is not a monolith, and our ethnicities are not interchangeable.


As Asian American presence in mainstream media continues to grow, these distinctions are important to make. “Mulan” will always be a monument for Asian American representation, but it’s not too much to ask for more. Diversity is not a one and done endeavor, and Asian American representation should grow to reflect all the experiences that make up Asian American community.

Wake Mag