Identity Crisis

I was recently helping my cousin brainstorm for his med school applications, more specifically on the essay about diversity. I remembered that he was heavily involved in the Taiwanese association at UPenn, and I suggested that he write about that. His response: "I don't want to emphasize that I'm Asian." This reminded me of something that I read online a while back, in which a half-Asian, half-white girl encouraged Asian-Americans to choose not to divulge their ethnicity on college applications if their last name didn't already make it obvious. The idea was that declaring oneself as Asian immediately pits you against all of the other Asians with the same academic achievements, musical accomplishments, volunteer activities, and the like. The basis for the argument was the disproportionate amount of Asians who are denied admission despite their qualifications, while those from other ethnic groups gain admission even though their resumes aren't as stacked. I can't speak to the veracity of this assertion; I don't have the data, nor do I care enough to mine for it. What I'm interested in is the conception that one has to play down being Asian in order to get anywhere in life. For anyone who has attended Chinese school on Saturdays or uses chopsticks more often than not at home, who grew up with burner drip pans covered in tin foil or a household in which English was rarely spoken, being Asian is an integral part of oneself. There are studies out their validating a subtle shift in personality and attitudes when one switches between languages--one subconsciously assumes the values of the culture that they relate to whichever language they are using at the time. The idea that one has to play down something so special and important in order to succeed is laughable and heartbreaking all at the same time. These schools are claiming to be focused on diversity. The unspoken understanding is that being Asian isn't considered diverse. Yet there is a distinct cultural identity to be found there. Out of nine hundred plus Facebook friends, less than a hundred of my social connections do not have an Asian background. Beyond that, most of them have married or are dating other Asians, even outside of their specific ethnic group. It's not an exclusionary or racist practice; it's a matter of cultural values and social comfort. A friend of mine who studied Asian-American culture at Cornell explained that there is a difference in which people with Asian-Americans communicate. It's the reason why they gravitate towards one another; we actively seek out those with whom we are comfortable speaking our minds without worrying about being misunderstood. It's a validated phenomenon, and one to which I can attest after moving to an area which is primarily Caucasian. For the most part, I feel like a duck out of water, and in the past nine months, I've had to rework my conversational skills and learn the nuances of speech in order to befriend my coworkers. Still, it leaves me exhausted at the end of the day, and it's a welcome relief to open GChat or pick up the phone to talk to those with whom I can be myself. How, then, can the world ask a person to deny this aspect of oneself? You're asking us to play down who are are in our "off hours," when we aren't forcing ourselves to assume certain behaviors in order to get by; when we aren't putting on a performance so that others won't see the downsides of our collectivist mentality or perfectionism, the passive-aggressive habits that always seem to emerge at the most inconvenient times. We're getting mixed messages here. On the one hand, we're told to celebrate our culture. On the other, we're being told that if you're Asian, you have to conform. It's a double standard, and one by which I refuse to abide. Excuse me while I go refill my hot water pot.