Ben
is a perfectionist and overachiever whose tunnel vision leads to
nothing less than graduating at the top of his class. As he struggles
to achieve social success, he discovers his darker side. He and his
friends: Virgil, Daric and Han lead a double life of mischief and petty
crime to alleviate the pressures of perfection. As their adopted
identity grows, the gang tumbles into a downward spiral of excitement,
excess and fun.
Never underestimate an overachiever.
*Warning: rated 14A for language and sexuality
-preceded by-
What Are You Anyways? Director/Writer: Jeff Chiba Stearns Animation/Comedy | 2005 | 11 minutes | Canada Website & Trailer: http://www.meditatingbunny.com
Follow
the adventures of the Super Nip as Jeff Stearns explores his cultural
backgrounds growing up as a mix of Japanese and Caucasian in a small
white bred Canadian city. "What Are You Anyways?" is a short
classically animated film that looks at particular periods in Jeff's
life where he battled with finding an identity being a half minority -
from his childhood origins to the epic showdown against the monster
truck drivin' redneck crew. "What Are You Anyways?" is a humourous yet
serious story of struggle and love and finding one's identity through
the trials and tribulations of growing up.
*Followed by a short discussion on bicultural identity.
Hosted
by the Asian Canadian Cultural Organization, a not-for-profit
student-run organization that promotes awareness of Asian Canadian
culture and issues. Sponsored by Perspectives, UBC's bilingual
English-Chinese student newspaper.
Fighting for Depth At Harvard and beyond, superficially positive Asian stereotypes carry harmful—and complex—consequences.
Published On
Wednesday, November 15, 2006 8:28 PM
By and Alwa A. Cooper
Crimson Staff Writer
Peipei X. Zhang ’08, Asian-American and unrepentant English
concentrator, wants you to know that she does not like math. Not
science, either, though she’s good at both. Economics is boring, and
keeping quiet is overrated. “When I was younger, I was the fuckup. I
did my schoolwork, but I played a lot. I wasn’t as studious as every
other Asian kid. Like, there’s a lot of shy Asian girls, but I’m not
them,” Zhang says, fashionably groomed in a cable-knit sweater and
tweed shorts.
“When I was applying to college, everybody expected me to
fail, because I wasn’t fitting into the stereotype of a good Asian
child, according to the traditional Asian parents. Among my parents’
friends, no parent told their child, ‘Be like Peipei,’” she says.
In high school, Zhang excelled academically and participated
in a slew of extracurriculars, but it was her outgoing personality that
stood out: teachers told her she was “too loud” to be an Asian girl.
And yet, Zhang succeeded in winning a spot at Harvard. The
Chinese-American community she grew up with in Boston was shocked.
“When I got into Harvard, the other parents were like, ‘How the fuck
did she get in?’” she says.
While Zhang and the rest of Harvard’s future Class of 2008
were preparing their college applications, Wall Street Journal reporter
Daniel L. Golden ’78 was writing a series of articles on the
inequalities of admissions practices at top-tier universities that
would earn him a Pulitzer Prize. Many of the articles, and the vast
majority of Golden’s book—“The Price of Admission: How America’s Ruling
Class Buys Its Way into Elite Colleges—and Who Gets Left Outside the
Gates,” published in September—focus on preferences given to wealthy
white students. However, sandwiched between chapters on “A Break for
Faculty Brats” and “The Legacy Establishment” lies a section that
touches a nerve recently exposed by affirmative action cases at the
University of California-Berkeley and the University of Michigan: “The
New Jews: Asian-Americans Need Not Apply.”
Much like Jews were before the 1950s, Asian-Americans are
“shortchanged relative to their academic performance,” writes Golden.
They are held to a higher academic standard in admissions, and are
routinely admitted to the highest-level schools at the lowest rates of
any ethnic group, including whites. Golden interviewed several current
and former admissions officers at these schools to tease out a
justification for the numbers. As it turned out, no sweet-talking was
required. Official after official went on the record for Golden on the
matter. The reasons for the rejections? One Korean student, applying
from a top prep school, got pegged at MIT as “yet another textureless
math grind.” At Vanderbilt, a former admissions staffer offered that
Asians “are very good students, but don’t provide the kind of
intellectual environment” that colleges are looking for.
THE FIRST “MODEL MINORITY”
On January 7, 1928, six years after Harvard President and
acknowledged xenophobe A. Lawrence Lowell, Class of 1877, decided to
make it his business to keep Jews out of Harvard, an article called
“Trial By Jewry” appeared in The Harvard Crimson. The article was a
short news piece—not an editorial—running just 315 words, half of which
were devoted to a racist attack on Jews.
“Individually, by their artistic ability and business acumen
the Jews play an important part in American life. But, in their race
clannishness, they choose to constitute a distinct body. And as such
they are a perfectly legitimate subject for discussion,” the author
says. “Race pride is a powerful and admirable force, but it would seem
that the Jews could attain the desired friendly unity with the Gentile
much sooner if the chord were not struck so loudly and often.” These
few damning words sum up the experience of the Jewish student at
Harvard, and indeed the Jewish person in America, until the mid-1950s.
Jews, many of whom were only first- or second-generation immigrants, if
that, were seen as pseudo-American. But due to their growing population
and prosperity, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore their
presence.
As Jewish numbers climbed at the institutions of higher
learning that had once been reserved for long-established families of
white Protestant descent, anti-Semitism increased. Nevertheless, by the
time Lowell took over as Harvard president in 1909, Harvard was more
than 20 percent Jewish, according to a recent New Yorker article.
Alarmed, President Lowell eventually instituted a quota that cut the
population of Jews at Harvard down to 15 percent over his 24-year
tenure. To justify its actions, Harvard turned to Jewish stereotypes of
“race clannishness” and abilities limited to purely brainy pursuits.
The message sent was that Jews as an ethnicity were one-dimensional,
presented little benefit to a university but brainpower without
personality, and tended to self-segregate. Almost 100 years later,
Harvard’s attitudes toward Asian-Americans, another “model minority,”
has echoes of its past attitudes towards Jews, both in its admissions
and in its approach to University life in general.
SOUND FAMILIAR?
At Harvard, Asian-American concern over suspected
discrimination in admissions predates Golden’s book. In 1992, an
admissions official met with members of the Asian-American Assocation
(AAA) to reassure them that, despite reports that Asian-American
students consistently had the lowest admit rates of any ethnic group at
Harvard while having the highest SAT scores, a quota designed to lower
their numbers did not exist. The difference between the rates of
admission between Asian and white students was chalked up to
preferences for legacy and recruited athletes, two categories that are
filled almost entirely by white students. Despite the lower rate of
admission—The Crimson reported that for the Class of 1995, Asians were
admitted at a 17 percent rate, whites at 19 percent, Hispanics at 20
percent, and black students at 32 percent—the population of Asian
students at Harvard has dropped only slightly from a high of a full
fifth of the student body in 1992 to about 17.7 percent now. Asians
made up 3.6 percent of the national population in the 2000, and that
figure is rising, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.
Director of Admissions Marlyn McGrath Lewis ’70-’73 writes in
an e-mail that this discrepancy in representation doesn’t concern the
Admissions Office. “A fundamental thing to understand is that we do not
think of ‘representativeness’ as a goal of our admissions process. We
do not use goals, targets, or quotas in choosing among applicants,”
writes McGrath Lewis. “When our proportions of Asian-Americans are
larger than their proportion in the country as a whole, that simply
indicates how well those who did apply did compared with other
applicants in our pool.” As for Golden’s accusations of stereotyping,
McGrath Lewis denies it occurs: “It would be incorrect to say that our
Committee reviews Asian-American students by criteria different from
those we use for other applicants,” she writes. “Nor does our Committee
operate on the stereotype that Asian-American students are ‘poorly
rounded’. We have too much experience with students of all backgrounds
to make that assumption.”
Golden’s experience, however, suggests otherwise. He writes
that Harvard evaluators “ranked Asian American candidates on average
below whites in ‘personal qualities,’” and repeatedly described them as
“‘quiet/shy, science/math oriented, and hard workers.’” While McGrath
Lewis and other high-ranking admissions officials deny the presence of
stereotyping, the lower-level staffers responsible for individual
applications acknowledge that such practices exist, according to
Golden’s book. The reason lies in the language of the stereotype—the
Asian student is good at math and science, talented with the piano or
violin, quiet, and shy. He or she can be found more often than not in
Cabot Science Library until the wee hours of the morning, bent over
chemistry or economics textbooks, while other students socialize.
Unlike the often explicitly negative labels placed on Latino and black
students, on the surface the Asian-American is a ‘model minority.’
Since Asians are doing so well in getting into college and getting
jobs, the argument runs, they don’t need the lip-service respect paid
to other minorities.
Several white students at dinner in one of the House dining
halls, who asked not to be named, offered their own takes on the
stereotype. One said, “Well, they’re science concentrators. They stick
together. Socially inept.” Another agreed, “Studious…oh, yeah, asocial,
definitely. I mean, that just comes from studying, and not knowing how
to talk to people.” A third: “Yeah, I guess I think of them as having
broken English.” In other words, the anti-Peipei Zhang.
Asians concentrating in the humanities or participating in
unscholarly pursuits have come to expect surprised reactions from white
students. Jeremy S. Lin ’10 is a recruited basketball player, a member
of the varsity team. He is also Asian-American. Since matriculating
here, he’s discovered that these two facts are difficult for many
Harvard students to accept together. “Some people don’t believe that I
play basketball,” Lin says. “When people see me, they automatically
assume I’m the worst on the team. They ask me if I only play when we’re
already winning by a lot, things like that.” Again and again, from
scribblings in the margins of college applications to dining hall
conversations, the same themes arise—softpedaled by patronizing
concessions to perceived skill in the sciences, the accusation is that
Asian-Americans do not speak the university’s language, do not
contribute to university community, and do not participate in
university life. According to many Asian-Americans, the fact that
racism directed towards them is rarely direct is no less damaging to
the community. Yet, others consider themselves lucky that that’s all it
is.
One Asian student, who lived in a virtually all-white
community before coming to Harvard, doesn’t see the problem. “I think
because I haven’t had the whole ‘identify with your own color’ thing,
sometimes it’s annoying to me when people get really into
[Asian-American activism],” the student, who asked not to be named,
says. “Racism was a fact of life for me, growing up. When you’re on the
playground, and you’re in an argument, sometimes it comes down to you
being called a Chink. And that’s terrible, but this stuff is minor.
Pick your battles, I guess.”
HISTORY OF A STEREOTYPE
Like Jews at the turn of the century, Asians in America and at
Harvard often come from immigrant families. Many Asian students cite
the experiences of their parents or grandparents, who often fled
politically unstable countries for a more secure life in the United
States, as a significant factor in decisions about career paths. Lisa
S. Pao ’08, an English concentrator and second-generation immigrant,
identifies that mentality as a source of the stereotype. “You watch
what it means to your parents, to come to another country and work so
hard and build a better life—it’s sometimes an unfortunate assumption
that having a better future means more money,” Pao says. “And that’s
why a lot of the majors that [Asians] who get into college pick are
medicine, economics, business.” Zhang’s parents, though they supported
her in her choice to study English, weren’t fully comfortable with it
until she landed an animation internship last summer at Nickelodeon
Studios, proving one could concentrate in the humanities and also
eventually get a job.
Members of many minority groups who, like Zhang, see clichéd
portrayals of their own ethnicities doing battle with often exclusively
white images of what a typical American should be, often resolve at an
early age to define themselves against that stereotype. “One issue
that’s often overlooked is the social impact of being seen as a
minority. You hear people say ‘When I was growing up, I thought to be
Asian was ugly. I didn’t want to be Asian. I wished I was white,’” says
AAA Co-President Sanby Lee ’08.
“I hated being Chinese.” Zhang says. “Now I know it’s part of
my heritage, and I don’t have to conform to what’s expected of my
ethnicity. I would go to Chinese [language] school, and I was just the
oddball.”
Often, it’s only in high-school, college, or later that
Asian-Americans and others are able to create their own conceptions of
their ethnicities and how to relate to them. Even then, they can face
criticism from others. “If you do something that’s not seen as
typically Asian, there’s a tendency for people to treat you as not
Asian,” Lee says. Government concentrator Edward Y. Lee ’08 says,
“There will be Asian-Americans who will be like, ‘Why are you acting so
white?’”
The views of those like the prejudiced admissions staffers
Golden interviewed are always at risk of becoming the identity that
minority groups embrace for themselves, making them even more harmful.
The luxury of exploring one’s academic and extracurricular interests
without worrying if they contribute to the marginalization of one’s
community is a privilege that non-minorities take for granted, and that
many Asian-American students feel they don’t yet have.
“The hardest thing for me was realizing that [my
concentration] is a stereotype. I didn’t know until I was in my late
teens, and that was difficult,” says Molecular and Cellular Biology
concentrator Alisa T. Zhang ’08. She is typical of Asian students
concentrating in sciences, who are aware of the stereotype and struggle
to resist being limited by it. The externally positive nature of the
Asian stereotype—So good at math! So skilled in the lab!—becomes a
burden when it circumscribes the role Asians play at Harvard, and it is
difficult to escape when so many students, for a variety of reasons,
feel they have to sheepishly admit to being part of it.
These students are also confronted with pressure from older
members of the Asian community to “Americanize.” “I do think the need
to assimilate is bigger in the Asian community [than among other
minorities],” says Sanby Lee, who is also a Crimson editor. “But I
think that surface conception of self-segregation ignores other
factors.”
BREAKING FREE
Edward Lee, vice-chair of the Undergraduate Council Finance
Committee, co-founder of the Asian-American Political Initiative, and
aspiring politician, has made it his mission to encourage
Asian-Americans at Harvard and across the country to speak up and join
American political dialogue in more concentrated ways. “Throughout
history, Asians would rather stay silent than stick out,” he says. They
want their children to be the cream of the mainstream. I think [taking
the safe route] is more of a hazard than it is beneficial.”
Asian Americans feature relatively little in the UC, and even
less so in national politics. Often, Asians and the American majority
feel mutual discomfort with the weaving of Asians into the political
and social fabric, and that discomfornt manifests itself in a
reluctance for either side to get involved in the public sphere. An
unfortunate consequence is that Asians then continue to be
marginalized. “There’s not even an idea that Asian-American history is
part of our history,” says Sanby Lee. “We’ve brought this up with
faculty before, and the gist of it was that they don’t see a need for
[an Asian-American studies department] because there’s already East
Asian studies. It’s a lack of awareness of the issue that just makes it
very difficult.” The culture of silence on both sides of the issue is
what allows, among other things, college administrators to tell a Wall
Street Journal reporter that Asians all look the same on paper without
fear of retaliation.
The goal of unity, however, is further compromised by the fact
that the sheer number of cultures amassed under the label of “Asian”
makes it difficult to achieve the kind of homogenous front implied by
the names of groups like AAA. When people use the word Asian, much of
the time they mean East Asian, and usually specifically Chinese. East
Asians, meaning those with Chinese, North and South Korean, Japanese,
or Taiwanese ancestry, make up a majority of the Asians at Harvard.
Often, Southeast Asians—the region variably composed of India, Vietnam,
Thailand, and several other countries—are lumped in with East Asians on
ethnic surveys. In the smaller-scale world of college admissions, the
Common Application, used by over 300 colleges, splits applicants of
Asian heritage not into categories of East Asian and Southeast Asian
descent but into “Asians” and “Asian-Americans”. Southeast
Asian-Americans with heritage from countries like Vietnam and Laos have
some of the country’s lowest high-school graduation rates, but in
applications are indistinguishable from their East Asian counterparts,
who are generally much more socioeconomically and educationally
advantaged. Efforts to reduce the numbers of Asians in colleges, mostly
directed toward East Asians, end up penalizing Southeast Asians, Golden
writes in the book. Beyond the Southeast Asian/East Asian divide, there
are historical factions within the groups. Until only a few generations
ago, Japan and China were bitter enemies (see sidebar); now, they’ve
been bound together in a designation that, while useful for political
reasons, is somewhat meaningless in other, important cultural ways.
As far as making a stronger Asian-American voice heard on
campus, to the extent that it can be done when an entire continent is
lumped together under one term, Sanby Lee recognizes the challenge: “I
definitely think that it comes up again and again in not wanting to be
politically involved, that stereotype of being very apathetic, passive,
not wanting to stand out.”
LOOKING AHEAD
Asian-Americans occupy a unique position on Harvard’s campus,
represented in pure numbers at as much as four times their national
presence yet barely acknowledged in the administrative and political
life of the university. If the community’s tag as the “new Jews” holds
up, in fifty years Asian students could have an even more considerable
stake in higher education. According to The Chronicle of Higher
Education, Jews, who still comprise less than two percent of the
American population, comprised one third of the Ivy League in 2000—an
astronomical amount, and one now readily accepted by admissions
administrators, who no longer force Jewish applicants to do battle
against a stereotype designed to prevent them from succeeding. In the
Ivies of the future, Asian students will make up increasing numbers of
alumni applicants—a highly courted demographic to top schools. They may
eventually enjoy the same prize Jewish students have won; first, to
gain a seat at the table without adhering to American stereotypes, and
then, to use that power to redefine the conception of what it is to be
American. But a major roadblock to Asian-American empowerment is that
same old stereotype, imposed upon them by society and internalized by
the community, that can polarize its members when it should unite them
to reject it. But as the community expands its historical conventions
to include a new tradition of speaking up when necessary to defend its
places at Harvard and in America, Asian Americans are slowly but surely
putting strength behind their numbers.
Chinese parents win back their daughter
By Woody Baird, Associated Press Writer Tue Jan 23, 6:37 PM ET
NASHVILLE, Tenn. - A Chinese couple who lost custody of their baby
daughter after putting her in what they said was temporary foster care
with an American family won their heartbreaking, seven-year legal
battle Tuesday to get her back.
In
a unanimous decision, the Tennessee Supreme Court said a Memphis judge
wrongly took away the Chinese couple's parental rights. The high court
said the couple were penalized because they did not understand the
American legal system and thought they were giving up their daughter
temporarily so she could get health insurance.
Now Anna Mae, who turns 8 later this month, could soon be taken from
the only family she has ever known and returned to her biological
parents. The court gave no timetable for the little girl to be reunited
with the couple, who came to this country from China.
The custody fight has been tied up in Tennessee courts since Anna
Mae was less than a year old. The Memphis judge's 2004 decision drew
widespread criticism as culturally and ethnically biased.
The Chinese couple have drawn support in their struggle from the
Chinese Embassy in Washington, and Chinese community groups around the
country complained of cultural bias in Tennessee courts.
Shaoqiang He said he and his wife, Qin Luo He, are eager to be
reunited with Anna Mae but will move slowly to give her time to adjust
to leaving the home of Jerry and Louise Baker in suburban Memphis.
"We want our child to remember their kindness and their love," he said.
The Bakers planned to tell Anna Mae about the court decision Tuesday evening, said their lawyer, Larry Parrish.
"She has not wanted to have any conversation about it. She will close up her ears and run in another room," Parrish said.
"This will be a life-changing experience no matter how smoothly it
goes," Parrish said. "There is no way it can be otherwise. It's just
how you make the best of the worst situation."
Jerry Baker said the family was in shock after the ruling. They have
four biological children, including a daughter about the same age as
Anna Mae.
God "is going to protect these little girls," Baker said. "They're
going to survive, and they're going to have productive lives."
The Hes have had two more children since Anna Mae's birth. "When she
wakes up each morning, she'll wake up and see her mother and daddy and
her brother and sister, and we'll all have the same faces she has,"
Shaoqiang He said.
Anna Mae was born in 1999 shortly after her father, a student at the
University of Memphis, was accused of a sexual assault. He was
ultimately acquitted, but the charge cost him a scholarship and the
student stipend that was his family's primary source of income.
The Hes said they sent Anna Mae to live with the Bakers temporarily
when she was about a month old because of their legal and financial
hardships. But the Bakers refused to give Anna Mae up.
In its ruling, the Tennessee Supreme Court said the evidence
overwhelmingly shows that the Hes gave up Anna Mae "as a temporary
measure to provide health insurance" for her, "with the full intent
that custody would be returned."
The justices returned the dispute to the courts in Memphis to work out a plan to reunite the child with her biological parents.
The Hes, who have faced deportation throughout the dispute, have
said they would return to China, but could not leave Anna Mae behind.
After placing Anna Mae with the Bakers, the Hes initially
visited her regularly. But in 2001 the Hes and Bakers got into an
argument, the police were called and the Hes were ordered to leave the
Baker home. Four months later, the Bakers filed a court petition
arguing that the Hes had abandoned their daughter.
In 2004, Judge Robert Childers of Memphis took away the Hes'
parental rights, ruling that they had abandoned Anna Mae under
Tennessee law by not visiting her for four months.
Child-care experts from several universities argued that
Childers was wrong to compare the parenting skills of the Bakers and
the Hes or to consider whether Anna Mae would have a better life in
suburban America than in China.
The Tennessee Supreme Court agreed that living conditions in China were not relevant.
"Financial advantage and affluent surroundings simply may not be
a consideration in determining a custody dispute between a parent and a
non-parent," the court wrote.
Bruce Boyer, director of the Loyola University ChildLaw Center
in Chicago, said the transition will be difficult for Anna Mae, but she
will go from one loving family to another.
"She will carry the impact of it for the rest of her life, but
the trauma will be far less than we see with kids who are bounced
around the in the foster care system every day," Boyer said.
Here's an excellent series of films screening at UBC. I saw last week's set and it was a real eye opener. Check it out if you can!
Film series @ UBC: Trafficking, Labour Export, and Migration
UBC Department of Geography hosts a film series by the Philippine Women Centre of BC
Week 1: Labour Export and Migration
Wednesday, January 24 @ 4pm - 6pm
Location: GEOG 100
“Brown Women, Blond Babies” Come meet the “Third World in our living
rooms…” Thousands of women leave the Philippines every year to work
abroad as domestics. This classic film tells the stories of some of the
women who migrate to Canada in search of security but find loneliness
and exploitation.
“When Strangers Reunite” Many Filipino live-in caregivers in Canada
are separated from their families for many years as they work under
Canada’s immigration policies. This hour-long film offers an intimate
and candid portrait of the effects of labour migration in people’s
lives. What happens when family members, who have become virtual
strangers, are reunited?
Week 2: Trafficking of Filipino Women
Wednesday, January 31 @ 4pm - 6pm
Location: GEOG 100
“Say I Do” This documentary chronicles the stories of mail order
brides from the Philippines now living in Canada. Through a flourishing
internet-based mail order bride industry, these women marry Canadian
men to escape a life of poverty, improve their future, and support
their families at home. When they arrive in Canada, they find
themselves in remote regions of the country with men they truly do not
know.
I guess I've been neglecting Xanga for the past little while. Anyway, here's Rosie O'Donnell using a mock Chinese accent. Pissed off a bunch of Asians in the US, whereas most people north of the border had no clue this even happened, and don't really care anyway.
Her intial response to the backlash was telling Asians to "loosen up" and that they need to learn to "grasp her humor." Here's her follow up on a later show:
Not much of an apology, eh?
Here's a new show called My Life Disoriented, airing on PBS on December 26th. It's a show about an Asian American family transplanted from San Francisco to some place called Bakersfield, where there are practically no other Asians. The main character, an artsy girl, ends up having to prove she's not a sellout but also show she's not one-dimensional by getting along with non-Asians. This could be a great opportunity for Asian Americans to improve their visibility in mainstream culture. Official website: http://www.mylifedisoriented.com
Trailer for a documentary about Richard Aoki, Field Marshall for the Black Panther Party in Oakland, California.
Dragon Boys will be premiering on December 17th at the Rio (Broadway & Commercial) care of the Canadianized Asian Club. It will air on CBC on January 7th-8th.
Better Luck Tomorrow
What Are You Anyways?
Fighting for Depth
While Zhang and the rest of Harvard’s future Class of 2008
were preparing their college applications, Wall Street Journal reporter
Daniel L. Golden ’78 was writing a series of articles on the
inequalities of admissions practices at top-tier universities that
would earn him a Pulitzer Prize. Many of the articles, and the vast
majority of Golden’s book—“The Price of Admission: How America’s Ruling
Class Buys Its Way into Elite Colleges—and Who Gets Left Outside the
Gates,” published in September—focus on preferences given to wealthy
white students. However, sandwiched between chapters on “A Break for
Faculty Brats” and “The Legacy Establishment” lies a section that
touches a nerve recently exposed by affirmative action cases at the
University of California-Berkeley and the University of Michigan: “The
New Jews: Asian-Americans Need Not Apply.”
Asians concentrating in the humanities or participating in
unscholarly pursuits have come to expect surprised reactions from white
students. Jeremy S. Lin ’10 is a recruited basketball player, a member
of the varsity team. He is also Asian-American. Since matriculating
here, he’s discovered that these two facts are difficult for many
Harvard students to accept together. “Some people don’t believe that I
play basketball,” Lin says. “When people see me, they automatically
assume I’m the worst on the team. They ask me if I only play when we’re
already winning by a lot, things like that.” Again and again, from
scribblings in the margins of college applications to dining hall
conversations, the same themes arise—softpedaled by patronizing
concessions to perceived skill in the sciences, the accusation is that
Asian-Americans do not speak the university’s language, do not
contribute to university community, and do not participate in
university life. According to many Asian-Americans, the fact that
racism directed towards them is rarely direct is no less damaging to
the community. Yet, others consider themselves lucky that that’s all it
is.
