The Myth of (Asian) America

While many people assailed Bill Clinton's Cabinet nominations last month as affirmative action at the highest level of government, some groups were complaining about their continued exclusion from this country's highest political offices. Sure, Clinton went a long way in meeting his promise to from a cabinet that would "look like America," appointing four Blacks, two Hispanics and four women. But one important group remained unrepresented: Asian-Americans.

Asian-American organization sent the transition team hundreds of names, but not one Asian-American was seriously considered for a position. There were rumors that Rep. Patsy Mink (D-Hawaii) might be the next secretary of the interior, but she said she wasn't even interviewed.

Granted, it is ridiculous to expect that every group in society be represented on a Cabinet which has only a limited number of spots. (Along with Asian-Americans, people born in North Dakota, people who worship the sun and people with the last names starting with Z also went unrepresented.)

And Asian-Americans on the transition team like Doris Matsui will likely see to it that qualified Asian-Americans are appointed to important sub-Cabinet positions. Even George Bush appointed a Chinese-American, Elaine Chao, to head the Peace Corps.

But even talking about diversity in positions below the Cabinet level irks many of Clinton's critics. They argue that the best people for the jobs should be picked regardless of their ethnic background. They also warn about the unintended backlash from whites and other minorities that might result from appointing members of certain underrepresented groups. If Cabinet appointees are perceived as mere tokens, both they and their ethnic groups might be stigmatized as qualified only by the color of their skin.

This isn't likely, especially for Asian-Americans, who have proven time and time again their competence and dedication as public servants. Just ask their constituents, the people (most of them from other ethnic backgrounds) who keep re-electing them.

However, what critics of Clinton's efforts to promote diversity really don't understand is that the risk of a public backlash must sometimes be taken if minority politicians are ever to be given a chance to show what they can do, and if the groups they represent are to ever develop a collective political voice.

Clinton doesn't have anything against Asian-Americans. The problem is that there just aren't enough Asian-American politicians out there. And according to Los Angeles City Councillor Michael Woo, who is also a front-running candidate for mayor, this lack of politicians is a self-fulfilling prophecy. "As there start to be more Asian-American politicians, more Asian-Americans will consider political careers," he says.

Mink says Asian-American politicians have to be cultivated at the grassroots level, gaining experience and establishing footholds in their communities. Only then will there be a natural filtering up to the state and federal levels. The problem is that most Asian-Americans just don't want to run.

In the past, Woo points out, pursuing public office was difficult because of overt discrimination against Asian-Americans. Recent studies also suggest that some Asian-American immigrants are more concerned with the politics of their homelands than the politics of the cities in which they live. Some of these recent immigrants also face language barriers which make it difficult for them even to cast ballost.

But these obstacles don't exist for many Asian-Americans. According to Woo, the real reason more don't run for office is that politics is just not a high-status profession for Asian-Americans, who desire more stability and money than public office can usually provide.

Mink puts it a lot more bluntly: many Asian-Americans just don't want to make the effort to get involved in their communities, she says. They are too absorbed in their work and businesses to take the time to reach out to others. And those Asian-American candidates who do run for office and are defeated often refuse to run again.

This is also part of the reason behind the notoriously low voting turnout among Asian-Americans. "Low rate of voter turnout has been a continuing disappointment," says Woo, who adds that more Asian-American candidates like himself--along with more voter education outreach--could be a good way to get more Asian-Americans to the ballot box. But right now, low turnouts and lack of candidates among Asian-Americans form a vicious cycle of political inactivity.

The reason for this political silence is as much self-absorption as the deceptive media messages that label Asian-Americans as the "model minority." The problem is that many Asian-Americans buy into this message: Why bother voting or running for office--why bother doing anything--when things are this rosy?

This success stereotype is a remarkable change from the image of Japanese-Americans propagated during World War II. Then, they were branded as deceitful, second-class Americans and herded off to internment camps--all for their own protection, of course.

But the new stereotype says they've suddenly made it in this country. Proponents of this view are quick to point out that as a group, Asian-Americans have a higher median income level than any other group.

But this statistic is more misleading than helpful. Since Asian-Americans tend to live in large urban areas, their incomes and costs of living will naturally be higher. When income levels are compared by region, those of Asian-Americans are actually below those of white families. This statistic also shows income per family, obscuring the fact that more Asian-American family members have to work to eke out the same income as other families. Finally, these statistics fail to show the higher amount of education needed to reach the same personal income level as whites.

Even though a greater percentage of Asian-Americans than whites live in poverty, the model minority stereotype seems to say that Asian-Americans do not need any public policies designed to help them. It makes other minority groups who have not reached such a high socioeconomic status appear as if they alone are to blame for their situation. And it obscures the fact that Asian-Americans still face a "glass ceiling," barring them from management positions and certain occupations.

But besides its basic untruth, the most dangerous aspect of this image of success is that Asian-Americans themselves have begun to believe it.

Once internalized, the stereotype adds to our political silence, telling us there's no reason to get involved. If we keep working hard at what we're doing, its says, everything will turn out okay.

There is no doubt that many Asian-Americans have been very economically successful. But success in our private lives and businesses too often functions as a form of amnesia, making us forget persistent problems in the public sphere. No matter how hard we work and try to assimilate, Asian-Americans remain victims of hateful and racial violence.

Discrimination, although not as blatant as it was during World War II, continues to plague our community. Last spring, the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights warned about the increasing number of anti-Japanese and anti-Asian hate crimes in this country. The report warned political and business leaders that these crimes were not unrelated to racebaiting campaign rhetoric that blames Japan for America's economic woes.

A well-known incident of such racial scapegoating occurred in 1982, when Vincent Chine, a Chinese-American, was murdered by a white auto worker who thought he was Japanese. Asian-Americans are tired of being mistrusted, accused and sometimes physically injured for "stealing" jobs that supposedly belong to American workers.

But even as these problems persist, Renee Tajima '80, the Japanese-American director of a documentary about the Chin murder, warns that Asian-Americans have become increasingly insular, ignoring the communities most likely to encounter such prejudice.

Especially at Harvard, where students are saturated with the ethic of success, it is easy to forget the growing diversity of the Asian-American community. This community--like America as whole--is increasingly becoming one of recent immigrants, be they refugees from Vietnam or poor store owners from Korea. These Asian-American groups whom we keep at arms length bear the brunt of prejudice that all Asian-Americans face in some way.

And second-generation Asian-Americans--often the ones who have "made it"--forget the humiliation suffered by their parents as they tried to fit in, learn the language and "dress American." They forget the surprise people still express when they hear how well we speak English. "Wow, you were born here?"

Philip Kan Gotanda, a well-known Japanese-American playwright, writes that the prejudice Asian-Americans face is more subtle than that facing Blacks and Latinos. Particularly now, he said in a recent interview in the Los Angeles Times, Asian-Americans are left out of the mainstream culture. They are in a "double bind" where they are cast as "'insidious' at the same time there's this feeling of knowing them. You get the worst of both worlds."

This explains the difficulty Asian-American actors have had in trying to break through stereotypical roles like "Long Duck Dong" in Sixteen Candles. And when Asian-Americans aren't portrayed as geeky and insipid, they're cast as mysterious experts at Kung Fu.

The stereotypes could be a lot worse. Rep. Robert Matsui (D-Calif.) says that nowadays, one's "Asianness" can be a political advantage, as long as the negative parts of the stereotype are downplayed. "Not looking like a politician is a major asset," he adds.

This doesn't mean Asian-Americans should run on platforms openly proclaiming themselves beacons for the Asian-American community. Since Asian-Americans often constitute less than two percent of a given district--including the ones represented by Matsui and Norman Mineta (D-Calif.)--that would be politically fatal.

Nonetheless, once elected, Asian-Americans should be responsible not only to the constituency that elected them, but to the broader Asian-American community, even if it lies outside their districts' lines. Mink says that sensitivity to the interests of this broader constituency comes "naturally." Asian-Americans coming to Congress, she says, are automatically more understanding.

But understanding isn't the same as speaking out. Fitting in, not standing up, is what comes naturally, especially for politicians. And for Asian-Americans especially, fitting in just isn't good enough if it means ignoring broader responsibilities to the community. As Woo acknowledges, attending to one's dual responsibilities once in office might require more work and longer hours than other politicians need to spend.

By speaking out against discrimination and prejudice, Asian-American public figures can make sure that our country's efforts to make American number one are not cloaked in racist Japan-bashing language. They can also speak for those segments of the population left behind by the model minority myth.

Asian-Americans who force the public to address the diversity and unique problems of the Asian-Americans population are actually helping to dispel two stereotypes: one saying that we are all successful and another saying that we are all silent.

It's far easier to become mute and complacent, shying away from responsibilities to the broader ethnic community, the neglected populations of Asian-Americans in this country who are economically underprivileged and who do not have a shot at success because of language barriers and prejudice.

But if more Asian-American take the risk and run for office, even when winning is unlikely, it will begin to be easier for the voices of all Asian-Americans--no matter how different--to be heard. For both Asian-Americans and their elected officials, the responsibilities of leadership are simply greater.

For those who care passionately about public life and service, making a difference means that we must acknowledge our differences first. Asian-Americans are beginning to realize that the harder we try to ignore our problems as a community and strive to "assimilate," the more these goals will escape our grasp.

My hope that more Asian-Americans will get politically involved is not a call for the cultural balkanization of our country's politics. But political realities demand political responsibilities, and the reality in our country is that group discrimination and oppression continue to exist.