https://www.newyorker.com/books/under-review/the-stories-we-tell-and-dont-tell-about-asian-american-lives
"These more well-to-do students, reared in a relatively inclusive and legally “colorblind” era of globalization and multiculturalism, have fewer hangups about their identities than those who came before them—yet they still experience a feeling of otherness that they have difficulty articulating. Eng and Han describe their experience as one of “racial dissociation,” because the conceptual frameworks they have learned, which downplay or ignore the realities of racism, do not adequately reflect the actual world they live in. These subjects live under a kind of historical amnesia, making it even more challenging to locate their sense of loss, which has become “dispersed,” ambient. Rather than sharp pangs of guilt there is simply constant anxiety. They feel “psychically ‘nowhere,’ ” ill-equipped to deal with the subtler yet still existing barriers to assimilation."
I have so many grudges against the "Asian American" community. I always tell myself I am either a Korean or American (someday, maybe). But I'm not a Korean American. I am not one of them.
One of my problems with them is that they often believe they are better off than those left behind in Asia. One of their laughable reasons is that they're now fluent in English, and in their memory, all their family and friends would kill for an opportunity to learn English in America. This is symbolic to the fact actually they're the ones left behind, not fully comprehending the dynamics of developing countries. Seoul, Beijing, Shanghai (I will not talk about Japan as I have uncomfortable thoughts about Americans' attitude towards Japanese culture) - these are all fast-changing cities, more so than most metropolitans in the states, and needless to say, more so than the suburbs where Asian American communities (K-town, C-town) are mostly located in. Do they know how easy it is to find a white loser looking for an English-teaching job in Seoul? Or, how useless foreign language skills are in the job market?
But maybe there is another reason that I am reluctant to identify myself as a"Korean American" with a dash, with a qualifier. Maybe, I simply didn't want to be a minority. Because when I am a Korean expat, I have someplace to go back, and all of my everyday shit in real life seems so trivial and temporary. When I'm a Korean American, I have to call this place my home even though I feel like a stranger, even though I have to constantly try so hard to belong. I'll be like that awkward long-term Airbnb guest where I have to dig up the kitchen for 5 minutes to locate a cutting board.
Now I don't feel like I can forever avoid that term.
"Identity isn’t a prescriptive solution. But when you’re uncertain of your place within society, it can help to have ready-made categories or narratives, even if you choose to reject them. There’s a power in being able to recognize our struggles as the result of paradoxes we live within rather than seeing them as purely private failings. It’s a step toward imagining lives that we might be the authors of, with endings that we write ourselves."
"These more well-to-do students, reared in a relatively inclusive and legally “colorblind” era of globalization and multiculturalism, have fewer hangups about their identities than those who came before them—yet they still experience a feeling of otherness that they have difficulty articulating. Eng and Han describe their experience as one of “racial dissociation,” because the conceptual frameworks they have learned, which downplay or ignore the realities of racism, do not adequately reflect the actual world they live in. These subjects live under a kind of historical amnesia, making it even more challenging to locate their sense of loss, which has become “dispersed,” ambient. Rather than sharp pangs of guilt there is simply constant anxiety. They feel “psychically ‘nowhere,’ ” ill-equipped to deal with the subtler yet still existing barriers to assimilation."
I have so many grudges against the "Asian American" community. I always tell myself I am either a Korean or American (someday, maybe). But I'm not a Korean American. I am not one of them.
One of my problems with them is that they often believe they are better off than those left behind in Asia. One of their laughable reasons is that they're now fluent in English, and in their memory, all their family and friends would kill for an opportunity to learn English in America. This is symbolic to the fact actually they're the ones left behind, not fully comprehending the dynamics of developing countries. Seoul, Beijing, Shanghai (I will not talk about Japan as I have uncomfortable thoughts about Americans' attitude towards Japanese culture) - these are all fast-changing cities, more so than most metropolitans in the states, and needless to say, more so than the suburbs where Asian American communities (K-town, C-town) are mostly located in. Do they know how easy it is to find a white loser looking for an English-teaching job in Seoul? Or, how useless foreign language skills are in the job market?
But maybe there is another reason that I am reluctant to identify myself as a"Korean American" with a dash, with a qualifier. Maybe, I simply didn't want to be a minority. Because when I am a Korean expat, I have someplace to go back, and all of my everyday shit in real life seems so trivial and temporary. When I'm a Korean American, I have to call this place my home even though I feel like a stranger, even though I have to constantly try so hard to belong. I'll be like that awkward long-term Airbnb guest where I have to dig up the kitchen for 5 minutes to locate a cutting board.
Now I don't feel like I can forever avoid that term.
"Identity isn’t a prescriptive solution. But when you’re uncertain of your place within society, it can help to have ready-made categories or narratives, even if you choose to reject them. There’s a power in being able to recognize our struggles as the result of paradoxes we live within rather than seeing them as purely private failings. It’s a step toward imagining lives that we might be the authors of, with endings that we write ourselves."
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