At that start of every semester, I recognize I might be one of only a handful of Asians in my classes. This will most likely be true for the career field I have chosen to pursue going forward as well. I have come to learn that, to some extent, my voice is the perspective of the very few people of color in many rooms I will find myself in. Especially if there are even fewer other people of color in the room, I feel as I have to shoulder some kind of burden of diversity. Not just in the content I expect myself to contribute, but also in the mere addition of my voice in the conversation.
If I don’t speak up, people are going to think I’m one of those Asians. Quiet. Timid. Introverted. Studious. Anti-social. The nerd in the movies who only sits inside and does math for fun. People may not think twice to wave off my silence because of my skin color.
I feel this nagging need to overcome the stereotype that Asians are quiet. It infuriates me that people think that all Asians are docile, because I’m afraid that it perpetuates the idea that Asians are “pushovers”, apolitical, or don't stand up for themselves. I’m afraid that people think because of our heritage or culture, we as a demographic are less likely to stand up against injustice or that our issues don’t deserve attention. I simply do not believe that is true.
As someone who believes passionately in the inclusion of Asians, especially Asian women, in traditionally white or male spaces, I will always want to fight for making our voices present and heard. Therefore, once we are included in those spaces, we should appreciate and engage, which is an opinion I take very personally.
But personally, there are many days where I am sitting in the back of my 10:05 a.m. and just want to observe. Even when there is a conversation that I think a different perspective would be highly beneficial, I naturally don’t want to be too aggressive. I want to balance my enthusiasm with patience and propriety.
Yet on the other hand, if I’m too loud, too intense, I may get perceived as one of those girls. Annoying. A know-it-all. Bossy. Obnoxiously extroverted. One of those cut-throat Asian girls who lean towards ambitious and malicious.
I don’t want to fall into a trope. I don’t want to be seen as the quiet-shy Asian, but I also don’t want to fall into another stereotype of the bossy woman. I desperately wish that everyone I meet thinks of me as the complex individual I am—an amalgamation of bits of each of those characteristics. On top of worrying about what people think of when they think of me as a person, I worry about how to fight what people may unquestionably assume about me after just one look.
Perhaps I fear falling into stereotypes too much. After all, I’m always going to look Asian. My skin is always going to come with streaks of previous strokes of people who tried to paint people like me in negative light.
That is why I want to play my part to fight the stereotype. For someone who is easily described as extroverted and assertive, I almost feel the need to overcompensate for those who may fit closer to the stereotype. If I can stand as an example of an Asian woman who is loud and proud, then I have contributed to combating the stereotype.
However, that line of logic is terribly flawed. After all, quiet doesn’t mean impassionate or incapable. This concern I have can be easily interpreted as falling into the trap that being loud, pushy, and proud is superior to being quieter, gentler, or humbler. That is considered buying into the Western-centric opinion that being stronger, louder, and more forceful is always better.
It’s not. The Asian part of my upbringing reminds me that moderation has its place. All people are complex and valuable regardless of whether or not they’re loud or quiet, boisterous or shy, someone who speaks up all the time in their class or never speaks at all. It’s not my job to make everyone else remember that Asians can be whatever they want to be, and are as varied in personalities and perspectives as anyone else.
I just want the rest of the world to know that too.
Amy Wang is a Trinity senior. Her column typically runs on alternate Mondays.
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Amy Wang is a Trinity senior. Her column runs on alternate Thursdays.