I wrote this piece after watching the movie twice, and this was the first time I really shared about my experience as an Asian American. Putting this on Facebook was really uncomfortable and I was terrified about what people would think. But the responses I saw revealed the power that I held. Not in who I was or what I’ve done, but power in my story. People commented about how they could relate to me, how they wanted to hear more, or how they had a different perspective. That’s why I’m really glad I started this blog. Because I finally have a space to share my story and hopefully create discussion. But if anything at all, I’m just happy to express a part of me that I am learning to love more and more:)
When I first saw the trailer for Crazy Rich Asians, I wasn’t that excited. I didn’t know it was based off a book and that a lot of people were looking forward to the movie. I just thought it was cool that an all Asian cast was featured. Only cool. But I did want to watch it, I love movies. So, when a friend asked a group of us to go see it, I saw no reason to decline.
I smiled, laughed, and even cried throughout the movie. It’s a GREAT movie; one of my favorites for sure. But I left the theater feeling so much tension. There was a part of me that was struggling with the movie and the worst part was that I didn’t know what I was feeling and why. The only feeling that could come close to describe what I felt was a sense of longing. But longing for what? Even that didn’t make any sense.
A week later, I went to see it again. And as I drove home, I started crying. Because it suddenly made sense.
Everything I was bullied for was celebrated in this movie. Everything I was looked down on for was valued in this movie.
While most of my childhood took place in an established Asian community in Dallas with Asian friends, Asian churches, and Asian food, there were a few years that I spent it away from an Asian community; in a small city in Arkansas. And though I made great friends and great memories during those 4 years, I also resented myself. I was the only Asian out of two in my grade. As a short, chubby, Asian boy with a bowl cut and glasses, I definitely stood out. And I was picked on because of it. Classmates would point and laugh, call me names, push me around. Even when it was in my face, I couldn’t fully comprehend why I was different and why that was supposedly a bad thing. I was just a kid and I just didn’t want to be picked on anymore. I began wishing I didn’t look Asian. I wished that my parents could speak English well and that they wouldn’t pack me Chinese lunches anymore. I wished to be treated normally. Looking back, I realize I didn’t want to be different, I just wanted to be seen, acknowledged, and affirmed as who I was. I longed for it. But not knowing how to navigate this struggle, I buried these memories and experiences deeper and deeper.
And then this movie comes out and shows Asian characters with stories and ambitions. Characters shown as beautiful and handsome. As leaders and lovers. And NOT as the stereotypical nerd or exotic token. It embraces the food, language, and culture and displays these aspects with pride and confidence. Aspects that were in my life that I was ashamed of and denied. This kind of representation matters. Not just because I see someone that looks like me on a big screen. But because for once in my life, a story is being shared that celebrates my culture and identity.
I’m still unpacking those old memories and figuring out this Asian American identity. But this movie and the conversations it has started has given me a glimpse of what it looks like to embrace who I am as an Asian American and how to represent it proudly. And as I’m transitioning out of college and into the real world, I am so thankful that I get to figure this out and be on this journey.
