not your model minority employee
“Strength to me is… crying in your car an hour before work and knowing that you have to get a grip because in an hour, you have to paste on a smile. You have to tend to your priorities.”
I stare at that sentence from my journal entry dated 2010. Of all the ways that I could have defined strength, this is what I landed on. Strength was not taking breaks for restoration. Although I don’t sense the same level of pride and certainty in which I wrote it then, it still resonates today. Except that ‘hour’ has shortened to 5 minutes before a Zoom meeting. Throughout multiple chronic illnesses, regardless of any grievances, heartaches or circumstances I’m experiencing, I must tend to my priorities; to exceed goals and succeed in my work. Since a young age I’ve been ingrained to equate my worth with my productivity and achievements. Conditioned to take pride in professional recognitions and define myself by being a consistent, yet humble, over achiever. My whole life, succeeding was an expectation and anything short of ‘excellent’ was not good enough.
I had internalized the model minority myth and bought into the meritocracy myth, trusting that if I (or anyone) worked hard enough, success would follow. It wasn’t until post-graduate studies and early in my career that I started paying attention. I started to discover how dangerous these stereotypes were, how the heterogeneity of Asian subpopulations were being erased, how anxiety over academic achievements were spiking, and how other groups were inaccurately painted as “problem minorities” due to their own shortcomings rather than the byproduct of systemic issues that were overlooked by policy makers.
The term ‘model minority’ characterizes Asian Americans/Canadians as a polite, law-abiding group who have achieved a high level of educational and financial success compared to other minority groups due to innate talent. On the surface this can come across as a compliment because it praises this group for their achievements and work ethic. However as you dig deeper, this myth creates subtle and harmful narratives that generalizes a very diverse community, overlooks disadvantaged members of the group, and when internalized, promotes behaviours that are damaging to wellbeing, esteem and the health of the community. This myth is responsible for the stereotypes of Asians and the expectations others start to have of the group. This showed up in the many roles I’ve held; as a daughter, partner, student and professional at work. As I work to actively unlearn my conditioning of this myth, I’m met with the tension and resistance of its very real, persistent existence.
Journal excerpt: 2012
There are kids out there who have never
grown out of being someone their parents
told them they should be,
they are handstitched
apologies to their ancestors with post scripts
that say, “Sorry you didn’t accomplish what you
wanted to, I will do it for you,”
and there’s nothing wrong with legacy
but having a meter stick placed in front of
you and being trained to reply with “How high?”
like a dog, when asked to jump is uncomfortable,
seems like trying to force success
and forge life into the shape of a standard your
soul doesn’t know how to mold itself to,
and
I wonder where the dreams of listeners hide
when they do what they’re told and day by day,
their own free will washes away like pebbles
being shaped by the tide,
effortlessly, as if this
is what the water was meant to do:
Smooth the world in its own image, round all of
the edges of rocks out until there are no more
arrowheads,
no children sharp enough to make
their own decisions, cut their own incisions into the
layers of the earth, leave their own scars and legacies
behind, I wonder if some parents know that they are
trying to turn their children into themselves,
if they understand that people are more than cells
to put long lost dreams in,
are not prisoners you
should train to walk in a straight line, stay in just
one state of mind for the rest of their lives, I wonder
if all of your ancestors would weep if they saw you
doing something that makes you unhappy for
the sake of family—
would they realize that it is
one thing to respect your elders, but another
entirely to become them?
That being someone
you are not leaves bruises buried deep beneath
the parts of you that you wanted to use to make
something beautiful.
And I wonder if they know:
Being someone you are told to be is a lot easier
than being someone you want to be when the
path is already set for you, the footsteps are
fresh before you, but being who you really are
takes bravery; heart and soul,
and if they wanted you to do great things,
they’d only ask you to unlock what is already within you.
5 ways the model minority myth creates harm & barriers in the workplace
I go back and forth from “I” and “we” statements, because I share what I know is true for my experiences as a first generation Canadian, South Asian woman in business and supported by research and conversations I’ve had with my community members as an HR & DEI practitioner. None of the below could ever be true for all Asians because we are not a monolithic community. We represent the largest continent in the world, one that is rich with cultural, religious, and ethnic diversity.
It leads to burnout. The pressure to consistently perform at 110% against an internal success bar that is unattainably high is exhausting. I struggle with perfectionist tendencies because anything less than perfect feels like failure. Failure has never been positioned as a milestone to celebrate as a learning or approach with self-compassion. Instead, failure has been something I’ve been raised to sit in shame with and bounce back quickly and quietly from. And so, extra hours, effort and attention is put to avoid delivering output that falls short of meeting the best possible standards. Burnout also comes from feeling like we need to compete and be the best. Growing up, many South Asians may have routinely been compared to siblings or cousins by parents and caregivers, further perpetuating a scarcity mindset. In the 1600s, the idea of scarcity was intentionally weaponized by dominant groups in power to justify the unequal distribution of resources. Even as Asian professionals advance, scarcity continues to be reinforced by unspoken policies like the bamboo ceiling and racial quotas. According to a study by Studio ATAO, “One Filipinx American chef shared their experience of being rejected by a publisher because they already have another Filipinx chef.” This reinforces the false notion that the only value of marginalized people are their identities, making them interchangeable commodities and thus increasing competition for recognition within underrepresented groups to be ‘the one’.
We are less likely to report abuse. Some of us have been raised in families where a lot gets swept under the carpet for the sake of social harmony and honour. We have grown up with norms of not burdening others with our struggles or feelings and being expected to maintain relationships with people (typically family members) who were rude, abusive or disrespectful. This can be among the many reasons why we don’t often speak up or report wrongs. According to a study by AAPI, Asian Americans have experienced hate incidents at a significantly higher percentage than the general population, but are also among the least likely to report. This is often due to them wanting to avoid bringing unwanted attention to themselves or their family members, and is most common in younger people who were immigrants or children of immigrants. Their parents had worked so hard for them and thus they don’t want to burden them or seem ungrateful. We also have been taught to respect authority and defer to elders and thus it takes courage and unlearning to speak up in opposition to those who are considered our superiors at work. I seldom, if ever, reported abuse at school, in my personal life or at work. When I was bullied as a child, I would fake stomach aches to stay home. When I was sexually abused as a child, I stayed silent and swallowed grief and pain for the sake and comfort of others. And for years, any time I had experienced mistreatment at work, I changed my behaviour to better assimilate or avoid attention.
We are least likely to be promoted to management and executive roles — less likely than any other racial group, including African Americans and Latinos. The stereotypes — lack of leadership qualities and assertiveness — are particularly used against Asian women, who are seen as docile and unable to fit in with the corporate executive culture. Stereotypes pigeonhole us in roles that often require technical expertise. A 2005 study concluded that two stereotypes persist of Asians, individuals rate us as having high competence (we are seen as intelligent and successful) and low on social skills (we are perceived as nerdy and antisocial). And because we’re seen as deferential worker bees, Asian Americans are rarely given the opportunity to work on assignments that can develop strategic and leadership skills. Lacking these opportunities, the glass ceiling (also deemed as the bamboo ceiling) becomes impossible to crack.
Our cultural differences can be at odds with Western ideas about leadership style and norms. Asian collectivistic values centre harmony and humility; emphasizing the needs and goals of the group as a whole over the needs and desires of each individual. I was raised to be self-effacing and so, promoting myself in job interviews, marketing myself as a consultant, or taking fair credit for my achievements can feel awkward and unnatural. I was encouraged to blend in (and conform), rather than stand out. There is an expression commonly repeated in Asian households, “The tallest nail gets hammered down”. This is also likely why I get anxious when public speaking and allowing myself to be fully seen and expressed. It took me a long time to embrace the discomfort of speaking first in meetings, especially when sharing perspectives that go against the grain.
We feel guilty asking for more. I recently read an article about how immigrant children learn gratitude as a coping mechanism. Practising gratitude and having an abundance mindset can be healthy and foster contentment, however over-indexing can prevent us from asking for what we deserve and need, and also manipulates us into thinking that we did not earn what we have. It can make us vulnerable of being taken advantage of (in relationships and contracts), stabilizes gender and racial pay gaps and results in us taking on more workload and responsibility for less, because we recognize how lucky we are to be in the organization, role and country we are in compared to the sacrifices and struggles of our ancestors and parents.
As I continue to explore my identity as a disabled, first generation, Indo-Canadian woman in business, I close with this tweet that I think about quite often that was shared by my former colleagues and close friends (Genia & Tommy).
