“Blacks and Hispanics don’t deserve to take our spots at college.” The words spilled effortlessly from my mother’s mouth. “Asians are smarter. Work harder. Respectful.”

Hearing such sentiments from older generations is commonplace for the four of us, especially since we live in an ethnic cluster. 

Their entitlement stems from one source: the model minority myth. 

The model minority myth falsely molds all Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPI) into a studious, wealthy entity. Under the guise of this myth, we’re all socioeconomically successful due to our cultural emphasis on educational and economic prestige.

On the surface, this doesn’t seem far from the truth: AAPI ranks as the highest-earning racial group. However, this myth assumes us to be a monolith. In reality, AAPI hold the largest income inequality gap as our community encompasses a wide range of ethnicities and socioeconomic backgrounds (Pew Research Center). 

Being “model minorities” doesn’t make us any better than other people of color (POC); instead, it holds us to unattainable standards. The perceived success of Asians becomes incessantly weaponized against other minorities—the “non-models.” 

It would make sense for our parents to sympathize with other POC as they’ve experienced similar hardships, including U.S. citizenship denial and segregation to ethnic enclaves. So why embrace internalized racism? Why do Mom and Dad characterize other POC as lazy and incompetent?

It’s ironic. Our immigrant parents discriminate because they’ve experienced discrimination themselves. This oversimplified narrative downplays the incomparable struggles of other immigrants: “I came here with no money, but I made it. I overcame racism. Why can’t they? It’s their fault.” 

After our parents were cast aside and viewed as inferior for so long, it’s no wonder they readily accepted the title of “model minority” and reinforced its racist implications. It was a badge of acceptance. But this badge is superficial. 

Even though the myth promises equality and recognition, we’re still seen as “other,” as un-American. 

The consequences of the myth take shape before our eyes today. While these hate crimes against Asian Americans have been performed by people of various backgrounds, recently, our parents have been specifically using Black-perpetuated anti-Asian hate crimes as reasons to broadcast anti-Black sentiments. But as the younger generation, we’ve realized that this racial fracture between us and Black people is a manifestation of the myth. 

For years and years, Asians and Black people were pitted against each other. The very essence of the “model minority myth” draws a dangerous comparison of us as minorities. The very journalist who coined this term of “model minority” did so to denigrate Black people as incapable of the docility and ability to succeed that Asian Americans seemingly exhibit. It has been used by white commentators to further divide us. Once seen as a lifeline for Asians in the past, the myth now reveals its true form as an anchor that inhibits progress towards unity.

Change starts small—our parents must register that the badge can’t shield us from being treated as aliens. We are hurt and exhausted from fighting our own battles alone, from generations of internalized racism and from being seen as “other”. We must unite as minorities, acknowledge our shared hardships, and amplify our voices, together. Silence is no longer an option. 

As AAPI youth, we must be the catalysts for change. Let’s free our parents of this tarnished badge.

Photo courtesy of FLICKR.COM