Growing Up as an Asian-American

“Stand Tall” by Cleo Wade in Heart Talk

DISCLAIMER: This is my personal experience of growing up as an Asian-American. It is MY truth, and it touches on a couple of sensitive topics. This isn't meant to bash on anyone, I just want to be honest in sharing the difficulties that I faced. Long story short, I am proud of who I am today. I am extremely grateful for all that I have experienced. If you feel like this is too much to take on, I hope that you check out my other posts instead. Enjoy!



"Different" and "same" were the worst words in the English language. I hated that they defined me. It was like there were people in the world that were wearing the same pair of sunglasses and through their lenses, and they saw "different."

"Oh I need YOU specifically to help me with math."
"Your ____ is good because it has that special Asian touch."
"WHAT IS THAT? Your food looks disgusting. How can you eat that?"

Or they saw the "same."
"Your name is (not my name) right? No? I'm sorry, it's just that you all look the same."
"Since you two are Asian, you have to date each other."

 And they assumed that through my lenses, everything was wide screen.
"Is it really hard for you to see with your eyes like that?"

I tried to take these comments with a grain of salt. But it didn't work because I attempted to change myself. I begged my mom to pack me a sandwich and a bag of chips for lunch. I followed the same YouTube makeup tutorials that everyone else did. I refused to watch Korean shows. I made fun of people who listened to Korean music. I cut my hair if the only other Asian girl at school had long hair. But it wasn't enough to make people's reactions to and interactions with me change. At some point, I believed that I wasn't enough. I truly believed that the boys I liked didn't like me back because they weren't "into Asians." I believed that I was isolated from friends because I would make a friend group too diverse. Humans are usually more comfortable with what they know, but because they didn't know how to treat me, I made them uncomfortable, and it was my job to change into what they did know.

The biggest struggle about growing up was the loneliness. Through the news or through my friends, I constantly witnessed tension between white and black people. In school, they would sit at different tables. On TV, they protested against each other. I was in awe that people were fighting for themselves, as they needed to be heard. But I also believed in peace and unity, yet these different unions were formed based on race, so I was constantly questioning where I fit in, in these different situations. I also didn't know who to look up to. Asian-American celebrities, speakers, writers didn't seem to star in movies, or win awards, or be interviewed, and to be honest I wasn't really aware of any growing up. Perhaps the question of where I fit stood for a long time because I didn't belong at all. Maybe I was too "different" or not didn't have enough of "same."  I don't believe that I faced the brokenness and fear anywhere near extent that other people/races might have, but I always thought equality applied to everyone, including MY people who seemed to be forgotten. So I decided to jump on the bandwagon and forget the Asian side of myself.

 I had no interest in learning to speak, understand, read, or write in Korean. The thought of learning kept leading to flashbacks of being pushed by two, third-grade boys in the first grade or the gagging sounds made by my friends when I brought rice and seaweed to school in the fourth grade. Korean traditions and holidays could only stay inside of my household. When my friends came over, I hoped with all my might that my parents would speak English perfectly.  I refrained from my favorite Korean snacks and foods as well. But even without pursuing the Asian of side me, I still was receiving comments, and my heart kept hardening from them.

I didn't want to be a bitter person. To keep me from that, I eventually had to learn that even if what other people do is wrong, it's up to me whether I let it prolong inside of me. I easily let go of comments, but I still didn't let "Asian" be a part of my identity. It did take Asian friends to show me that I wanted to explore my culture and not only accept this side of me, but be PROUD of it. Around the same time I started to feel comfortable with my Asian self, hanging out in K-town with my friends or listening to K-pop, I also realized that I had a disconnect with communicating to my grandparents, other distant relatives, and even my own mother sometimes. The gap between my family relationships became more important to me than the comments from people around me so I started to immerse myself into the Korean culture. I started avidly watching K-dramas, listening to K-pop, and using the resources around me to learn how to read and write Korean. Within these past two years, I have learned how to read Korean, have texted my family in Hangul, invited several people to try Korean food for the first time, and have spoken Korean in front of my peers. It took me a long time and a lot of effort to get to this point where I was comfortable with who I was, and now I can't imagine myself without this amazing part of my identity.