WHITE
RICE, TREADING WATER
Larissa
Pham
In high school we made jokes about
diversity.
My private, college-prep school was three
hundred students strong. Most enrolled were day
students, but some dormed; the majority of the dorm students international, and the majority
of those, Asian. There was white rice in the cafeteria every day: a halfhearted extension of
cultural acceptance, a culinary olive branch, we joked, towards the dormies. Most of the day
students were white.
students, but some dormed; the majority of the dorm students international, and the majority
of those, Asian. There was white rice in the cafeteria every day: a halfhearted extension of
cultural acceptance, a culinary olive branch, we joked, towards the dormies. Most of the day
students were white.
Asian-Americans occupy a strange place in
America these days. Tokenized as model minorities
and f or the most part very little trouble for “society,” especially in the field of education, we
slip under the radar. Our lighter skin gives us a pass, too: I think of it as treading water in the
domain of whiteness. There’s racism, of course: but it’s different, and backhanded, and easy to
blink at, thinking: am I really that different? Am I?
and f or the most part very little trouble for “society,” especially in the field of education, we
slip under the radar. Our lighter skin gives us a pass, too: I think of it as treading water in the
domain of whiteness. There’s racism, of course: but it’s different, and backhanded, and easy to
blink at, thinking: am I really that different? Am I?
I was, and I was not, and I am only just now
beginning to understand.
For me, being Asian-American in high school was
more about the constant conflict I had
with my family: I wanted to be more American, less Asian-; I wanted that youthful freedom,
late night movie dates, sleepovers with my friends. I wanted to be able to sit in a dingy diner
at midnight and not have to worry about calling home. I didn’t think about how my race fit
into the equation of my adolescence or my education—or maybe I did, and glossed it over
entirely. In my mind, the only Asian thing about me was my family. What was the rest of
me? I didn’t know. Liminal.
with my family: I wanted to be more American, less Asian-; I wanted that youthful freedom,
late night movie dates, sleepovers with my friends. I wanted to be able to sit in a dingy diner
at midnight and not have to worry about calling home. I didn’t think about how my race fit
into the equation of my adolescence or my education—or maybe I did, and glossed it over
entirely. In my mind, the only Asian thing about me was my family. What was the rest of
me? I didn’t know. Liminal.
In high school, we didn’t really talk about race. I didn’t really think about race. I floated
through for years, Asian and not-Asian, treading water.
It wasn’t until I read a bit more—and after I
moved across the country, to New Haven,
Connecticut—that I realized I had grown up in a bubble. A prep-school bubble that let
me think there was no such thing as racism, because I so comfortably passed for white-
acceptable. A bubble where I never got called out on my race because at that time even
I didn’t quite understand it. A bubble that gave me the privilege of being a “smart Asian”
and never let me see the ugly side of oppression. A bubble that needed to be—and has
been—popped.
Connecticut—that I realized I had grown up in a bubble. A prep-school bubble that let
me think there was no such thing as racism, because I so comfortably passed for white-
acceptable. A bubble where I never got called out on my race because at that time even
I didn’t quite understand it. A bubble that gave me the privilege of being a “smart Asian”
and never let me see the ugly side of oppression. A bubble that needed to be—and has
been—popped.
What does it mean to exist in this liminal
space? It’s white rice. It’s an uneasy place to grow
up in: the Asian-American identity itself already questionably homogenized and sanitized.
The pressure to exist and “pass” in the dominant domain of American whiteness is a heavy
and easy one to succumb to. We are given a privilege of sorts, in the ease in which we can
operate in the domain of whiteness—but with that privilege comes internalized racism; a
fragmentation of identity that confuses what we are, what we experience, and how
we present.
up in: the Asian-American identity itself already questionably homogenized and sanitized.
The pressure to exist and “pass” in the dominant domain of American whiteness is a heavy
and easy one to succumb to. We are given a privilege of sorts, in the ease in which we can
operate in the domain of whiteness—but with that privilege comes internalized racism; a
fragmentation of identity that confuses what we are, what we experience, and how
we present.
I don’t make jokes about diversity anymore.
Instead, I read and write essays about race
and academia and media because these things are important. I think about race a lot these
days. I think about intersectionality a lot these days. These matrixes of oppression are
structures larger than myself; and they affect me in ways in which—when I was younger
—I was too busy treading water to understand.
******************************************************************************
I want to thank Larissa for comosing this guest entry especially for this blog and this topic. Her ability to convey the liminal state is evidence that she has the talent to convey subtle shifts of mind and, at the same time, profound insights into the human condition.
In the Weekend edition of The Yale Daily News, her cover article, The Madama Butterfly Effect, examines in detail and with great insight, the way in which Asian women are being portrayed by the Media. Larissa has a bright future ahead of her. I hope she will continue to write. She has much she can teach all of us.
and academia and media because these things are important. I think about race a lot these
days. I think about intersectionality a lot these days. These matrixes of oppression are
structures larger than myself; and they affect me in ways in which—when I was younger
—I was too busy treading water to understand.
******************************************************************************
I want to thank Larissa for comosing this guest entry especially for this blog and this topic. Her ability to convey the liminal state is evidence that she has the talent to convey subtle shifts of mind and, at the same time, profound insights into the human condition.
In the Weekend edition of The Yale Daily News, her cover article, The Madama Butterfly Effect, examines in detail and with great insight, the way in which Asian women are being portrayed by the Media. Larissa has a bright future ahead of her. I hope she will continue to write. She has much she can teach all of us.
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