The Only Asian in the Room

 

It would surprise the childhood version of me to learn that as an adult, I am routinely in rooms where I am the only person of Asian descent. In fact, growing up in an all-Asian family with an extended network of Asian friends and family members, I was often in gatherings that were solely Asian or with token non-Asian representation.

Many of these experiences helped forge my Asian identity but also left me lacking a broader perspective on other cultures and even on my own: what are other settings if all you’ve known is water, and do you even know what water is like if it’s all you’ve known? Conversely, being the only Asian in the room has afforded me insights into similarities and differences across cultures, for which I am deeply grateful, and which have profoundly influenced my worldview. 

Alas, some of the learning and growing has been through the pain of directly or indirectly experiencing some of the dysfunction that characterizes much of race relations in this country. Some people feel free to express their barely veiled racism - towards people who look like me or towards other minority groups - and I have to navigate my own hurts or those of others being mocked while figuring out how to push back. Others share their own fears and frustrations - usually about how they are perceived or treated by white people - in ways that are new and heartbreaking for me even if mundane for them. 

We are better for the diverse experiences we have out and about. But that doesn’t mean those experiences are always easy. I will continue to lean into such opportunities. But some of them break my heart.