Another reason why I refer to myself as Taiwanese-American

As I said in my entry yesterday, in college I made a very deliberate decision to refer to myself as Taiwanese-American almost exclusively (as opposed to Chinese-American, which is also accurate when used to describe part of my cultural and ethnic heritage). I did so because it was then that I realized that even educated people who read newspapers (or say they do) don't know that Taiwan is an independent country with a distinct culture of its own. These are two truths that I hold very dear to my heart (and the latter is why I love being a features reporter in this country. It truly has a vibrant and dynamic culture, and I adore interviewing indie designers and artists).

The second--and equally important reason--was that conversations with certain of my classmates made me realize that many people see Asian-Americans as one, big homogeneous blob. They think we all live in California, are middle class, spend all our days taking piano lessons and cramming at Kumon, etc. In other words, when many people think of Asian Americans, they think of the demographic that produced the so-called "model minority".

They don't understand that not all Asian immigrants arrived at the same time and that not all are economically prosperous. Assuming that Asian Americans are all alike and not made of distinct demographic groups trivializes the very real struggles that some of these groups face (for more about why this "model minority" stereotype and its implications are harmful, read Frank Wu's "Yellow: Race in America Beyond Black and White.")

And within each demographic group are further layers of complexity. Take Chinese Americans, for instance. As Iris Chang made clear in "The Chinese in America," Chinese immigrants arrived in the United States in three waves, each of which were very distinct from one another. The first were the estimated 100,000 Chinese laborers who arrived in the US during the Gold Rush. The second wave was composed of refugees fleeing the 1949 Communist Revolution; many of them came with advanced academic degrees and were able to build a middle class life for themselves in the US (these were the people who had the label "model minority" attached to them). The third wave immigrated to the US from China in the 1980s and 1990s and, as Chang writes, "this large wave encompassed Chinese of all socio-economic groups and backgrounds."

I think people also tend to view all Taiwanese-Americans as being alike (maybe because Taiwan is a small country to begin with). But I know that even within the Taiwanese-American community, there are distinct differences in ethnicity, culture, education, religion, political beliefs and languages spoken. Taiwanese-Americans include people, like me, who were born in the States, people like my parents who immigrated over as young adults, and people who immigrated in middle age or older. Some Taiwanese-Americans live exclusively in the US; others fly back and forth between the US and Taiwan and see both as their home base. Some see themselves as part of the Chinese diaspora, others do not. Some households speak Mandarin, some speak Hakka, others speak Hoklo, others speak English (and many speak a mixture of the above). There are many different ways that Taiwanese-Americans define themselves, and we certainly do not all think alike. This is something that I've begun to appreciate more and more as a US-born Taiwanese-American living in Taiwan.