A closer look at heritage

Over the weekend, Nydia Han bravely published a op-ed in The Philadelphia Inquirer reflecting in the rise of anti-Asian sentiment we’ve seen since the start of the pandemic.

I’ve shared it a few times and am doing so once more as I feel it is that important to share.

There are so many critical messages in Han’s piece, but what stood out to me more than anything was how she described her relationship with her Asian heritage.

Han writes:

“As an adult, I tried not to be “too Asian” for much of my TV news career, lightening my hair and rationing how many stories I pitched related to Asian communities. I was basically hiding my Asian self in plain sight. I was on television every day but not fully seen and heard.

But no more. Especially after this year, I feel a sense of responsibility to bring my entire self to my work and am gratified by what happens when I do. Thanks to my Asian American colleagues’ and my speaking up, 6abc is airing PSAs in support of our community, asking viewers to “Join us to end racism.” Our station and ABC News have also aired several programs to take action against hate.

I now see that my greatest assets are the gifts my ancestors gave me. I see strength, power, and beauty in being Asian. And being Asian American brings me joy. I celebrate Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month with the same pride I am working to instill in our kids every day.”

That, I thought as I read it, is how you embrace your heritage and acknowledge how you’ve grown to do so.

If you haven’t read Nydia’s piece, I encourage you to go find it now. I think there’s a ton we can all learn from it, myself included.

Just last week I shared a piece pegged on AAPI heritage month. After reading Han's work, I took a closer look at it and had to admit that I had glossed over my awkward relationship with my mixed race, writing:

Being half Japanese, I’m not always easily identified as such. Sometimes I can blend in as white, and I worried that calling attention to the parts of me that were being discriminated against was somehow minimizing the experience of those who cannot hide behind racial ambiguity.

I’m cringing as I read this back again. Because when I look it over, I feel I’m shrugging the very ethnicity I’m trying to honor, and I deserve to be called out for that.

A common recovery slogan, and one which is very near and dear to me is “progress, not perfection.” It emphasizes the importance of moving forward, not letting perfect be the enemy of good and gives credit where credit is due. I think of it as a way of embracing and celebrating your improvements, even if there’s still work to do.

In that spirit of progress, not perfection, I’d like to try again to describe my relationship with my Japanese American heritage.

I woke up at 6 a.m. this morning determined to do so and here I sit two hours later with 1,300 words on my laptop, Barack Obama’s Dreams from My Father spread open in my lap.

I desperately wanted to publish this piece this morning, rectifying last week’s cop-out as quickly as possible. But as I sit here thumbing through the greatness that is Dreams from My Father, I’m reminded of how Barack Obama missed his first deadline for the book.

Not that I’m in any way comparing myself to Obama, but reviewing his masterpiece, I’m reminded of just how complicated it is to dissect your own race, especially when you’re still struggling to understand it yourself.

With that, I’m going to give myself some grace. Instead of rushing to publish a correction where I attempt to tease out the many intricacies of my Asian-American Heritage in two hours, I’m going to take my sweet time and give my complicated identity the reflection and thoughtfulness it is worthy of.

For now, I’ll just say that I’m proud to be an Asian American woman. Not just this month, but every single day. My identity deserves to be celebrated, not glossed over, especially by me.