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A.S.I.A. Affinity Group Hosts Upper School Assembly

On February 8, The Asian Students in America (A.S.I.A.) affinity group led an Upper School Assembly. Topics included the dangers of the model minority myth, the importance of mental health awareness, the varying experiences of being Asian American and biracial, and a personal story of merging Chinese and Korean cuisines. In addition to sharing their stories, Audrey Lee '22 and Annabel Lee '22 performed Arirang, a culturally significant Korean folk song. Precious Singson, a teacher in Potomac's History Department, shared a brief oral history from her mother, an immigrant from the Philippines. We thank them and our other student speakers, Ellie Yoon '22, Michelle Ahn '23, Ella Lu '25, and Christian Lam '25.

From Ellie Yoon '22

I identify as Korean American, and today, I want to talk about something that’s definitely not talked about enough and is a little bit heavier, which is mental health and the exceptionally large amount of stigma behind it in Asian American communities. So according to the CDC, suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States. But when broken down by race, suicide is the first leading cause of death among Asian American young adults between the ages of 15 and 24 – right about our age and onwards. This is true of no other racial group in America. And statistically, Asian Americans are also the least likely racial group to seek and utilize mental health services. 

So what can you do?

  1. Recognize the fact that Asian Americans and all people of color struggle with mental health issues and there is unequal access to health care whether that be due to cultural norms, a lack of services that can accommodate various languages, or a lack of cultural sensitivity by health care professionals.  

  2. Become aware of your own attitude and beliefs toward the Asian American community and examine your own implicit bias and negative assumptions.  

  3. Educate yourself and others about unique challenges of mental illness within Asian communities and by doing this, you chip away at the stigma that permeates through culture.

  4. Finally, show compassion and love to everyone because you don’t know what someone’s going through. 

We all have a part in breaking the stigma, creating a community that supports and advocates for one another, so today, I implore you to take the next step – whatever that means for you.

From Audrey Lee '22

Strangers have never shied from asking me “Where I’m really from?” Los Angeles would be the correct answer. But, people typically think of somewhere east, so far east that you have to cross the Pacific Ocean. When I was little, I was playing at the playground, minding my business as an 8-year-old does, when a random stranger approached me and asked, “Chinese? Vietnamese?” with no other context. It took me time to register what she was asking. I finally answered, “No, Korean.” Now looking back at it, I realize how unusual this interaction was. Why does it matter what my 8-year-old self or my 12-year-old self or even now my 17-year-old self’s ethnicity is?

At Potomac, all of us are hard-workers at such an academically-rigorous school, and hearing that your hard work is only because of your race can be really discouraging. It also points to a larger stereotype that many people confine Asian Americans to, known as the “model minority” myth. This stereotype often pictures all Asian Americans to be straight-A students, prodigy violin or piano players, whose favorite classes are restricted to math and science, and of course, they will eventually become doctors or lawyers. This expectation can be harmful for multiple reasons. Not every Asian American meets this model minority stereotype, and it can lead to a sense of inferiority rooted in false and unfair expectations. This can also devalue the success and hard work of Asian Americans who are high achievers. And lastly, it generalizes Asian Americans to all be the same, when this isn’t the case.

Although at times I have felt too Korean or too American, I realize I don’t need to pick. I am not confined to just one because I am a Korean American. Beyond this, I am also much more than a particular ethnic/racial group or any combination of them. So while this speech has covered bananas, Korean dumplings, and more, I hope you were able to learn a little bit about my experience as a Korean American. Thank you for listening.

From Michelle Ahn '23

I’m really fortunate to be fluent in Korean, a gift I didn’t understand when I was much younger. Like Audrey, my parents would make me go to Saturday school, where I would sit for seven hours journaling hangul in my Hello Kitty notebook. Looking back on it now, I realize that being bilingual is a privilege only available to me through my parents’ diligence; many immigrant households deliberately choose to raise their kids strictly “American,” by which I mean only in English. It’s a sacrifice that many parents make in order to help their children assimilate easier, even if it means severing them from their families and their backgrounds. Being able to communicate with extended family is a privilege that many don’t even realize, and I’m genuinely thankful to my parents for giving me the gift of communication, even if my Korean is a bit rough at times.

Many of you already know that I’m a competitive archer, but not many know how I began such a niche sport. I was at my grandmother’s home in Seoul, lazily listening to the 2016 Rio Olympics. Just as I was about to doze off, a particular event caught my attention. I was immediately captivated by the women’s archery event, not only because of the uniqueness of the sport but the competitors as well. Growing up in America, I rarely saw Asian representation in athletics, so watching the Korean women’s team taking home gold completely changed my perspective; I realized that I wasn’t limited to what American media told me I was, and that was the moment I decided to begin archery. I got pretty good at it too, and I even won some sweet national and international titles. All the while, my grandparents, despite their age and the 13-hour time difference, kept rooting and praying for me, a gesture they still fulfill every tournament. For me, being Asian American isn’t negated by physical distance or even childish resentment; being Korean American has taught me that my language, my culture, and my sport start with my family, and their love and support for me, regardless of how many miles are between us.

From Ella Lu '25

I come from a mixed-race household where my Dad is a second-generation immigrant with parents born and raised in China, and my mom is…very white, and she grew up in Ohio. Like others, from a young age, I’ve been hearing questions like “Where are your parents from?” When I responded honestly with “Maryland and Ohio,” this would often upset whoever was asking me because to them, I should have understood what they were asking me. I should have understood that they thought I looked Asian, but not Asian enough so in an attempt to understand why I look the way I do, they asked me the always fun question of “Where are your parents from?”

My whole life I’ve been in this gray zone of not really fitting in with either culture and I mean I’m not alone. I’m sure many others have felt the same way, including my siblings. But through these experiences of being shoved in different directions about who I should be and being questioned about why I look the way I do, I’ve found it hard to know who I am. I’ve always felt like because people can’t “figure out what I am” there’s something inherently wrong with me because others never seem satisfied with who I am, and they must know about “what I am” or why I look the way I do. However, all these events are a part of who I am and it’s all a part of my experience being biracial.