This past semester was my hardest semester at Princeton thus far. As a junior, I was confronted with taking five classes for the first time, having to think about my independent research, producing independent research, attending to a more rigorous work schedule, the thought of actual post-graduation plans, familial tensions, maintaining entire relationships and, of course, Continue reading
I recently came across numbers from the Pew Research Center indicating that nearly 40% of Asian American women marry out of their race, in comparison to the national average of about 14.5% for both sexes. Continue reading
Growing up, I always struggled with finding a stable identity of my own. I knew I was Latina, but I felt like I could only relate to Latina women in my family and never the ones on television and film who show how an “actual” Latina was supposed to be and act. In television programs, terms like “exotic” became the norm when describing tanned skinned, seemingly typical Latinas. Yet, it wasn’t until adolescence, when I began religiously immersing myself in pop culture, that I started to realize just how pervasive and damaging this one idea of what a Latina is actually was. Continue reading
I remember the first time I listened to Childish Gambino. It was my senior year, his album Camp had dropped that past November, and while surfing the web, I came across his music video for “Freaks and Geeks.” Although at first I was confused as to why Donald Glover from Community was filming himself rapping and moving sporadically (was that dancing?) around some random warehouse, I was quickly won over by his flow and his wit. Halfway through the song, one of his lines caught me by complete surprise. I paused the video and replayed it to make sure I had heard it correctly: “Love is a trip, but fucking is a sport / Are there Asian girls here? Minority Report!”.
What?! Did Asian girls just get a shout-out in a rap song?! I listened to the rest of the tracks in Camp, and there was no denying: Childish Gambino had yellow fever.
The conversation always goes the same way. In a circle of friends, the discussion somehow arrives on the topic of dating, or race, or both, and then somebody says it: “You like white guys” – “You like Asian girls” – “You like black men.” Continue reading
When I was in middle school, a boy in my class — who happened to be white — told me that he liked me. I kind of just stared at him, nodded silently, and went back to doing my work, because I didn’t know whether he was joking or not. As a fifth grader, I couldn’t even fathom the fact that a white guy could find me attractive, and I think a lot of that mentality has spilled over into my college years.
No need to fear” is a phrase that sounds utterly ridiculous, like something a super-hero would chime as he swoops in to save the day. Yet these four words come most easily to my mind in daily situations where the only thing I am trying to save is my own dignity. Continue reading
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