Embracing My ‘Otherness’ and Forging My Own Path

My phone flashes with another notification highlighting violence against an Asian American. Someone who looks like me was murdered, an innocent bystander pushed off a subway platform and into the path of an oncoming subway train. Another reminder that Asian Americans are seen as “other,” even more glaring in this Covid-inflicted world.

I was born and raised in Bellingham, Washington, a small town north of Seattle. There weren’t very many Asian Americans in my town, but my family made frequent trips to Vancouver, British Columbia, where many Asian immigrants resided. I loved all the Chinese and Japanese food I grew up eating, but I didn’t fit in with the Asians I saw in Vancouver. So instead, I did my best to blend in with my white classmates. I didn’t want to be associated with the “typical Asian kid” who was good at math and played the violin (even though I did play the violin). I didn’t want to fit into the model minority stereotype; I didn’t want to be a stereotype at all.