Growing Up Being A Model Minority
Image source: San Francisco Chronicle
Kindergarten was the first time I heard the word “stereotype.” I attended The Gordon School from kindergarten through 8th grade, where students were encouraged to seek “intellectual leadership” and “a drive for positive societal impact,” starting with the youngest classes. This entailed age-appropriate discussions about race, equity, inclusion, and injustice. Each was taught in a way that was applicable to kindergarteners’ lives. Race was demonstrated through the understanding that some classmates look different from others, but that we could all be friends. Equity was taught through the idea of sharing, and everyone was able to use all of the same materials. Inclusion and exclusion were typically illustrated during free play time: little kids were taught that it is unkind to exclude others from the activities you are doing. Lastly, injustice is taught through fairness and unfairness. For example, kindergarteners feel injustice when they sit out from activities as a form of punishment and discipline. To a kindergartener, not being able to join in an activity is the end of their world. No aspect of society is too hard or abstract for a little kid to understand. “Complicated ideas” must be taught in a way that is applicable to the lives of young kids. Only in this way will they fully be able to grasp these words and ideas.
In kindergarten, the class discussions about stereotypes were prefaced with a serious tone and manner, different from previous ones that were usually about letter sounds, simple sentences, or show and tell. My teacher, Ms. Parsons, conveyed the seriousness of stereotypes and the harm they cause. At the kindergarten level, stereotypes were taught tangentially to assumptions: your friend doesn’t necessarily like the same things you do or just because they look different from you doesn’t mean they can’t do the same activity. As I grew up, I learned that stereotypes were so much more than what not to do in friendships.
Middle school was when I learned that identifying as Asian-American made me susceptible to being a “model minority.” The idea of the “model minority” revolves around stereotypes regarding people of color (POC). It perpetuates narratives that people of color are boxed into and forced to embody. One example is the idea that an Asian-American child is musically or mathematically skilled. Not only are the stereotypes harmful, but they are also untrue. The “model minority” stereotypes erase individuality and agency among Asian-Americans and the greater POC community. It doesn’t leave any room for creativity and figuring out what a person likes for themselves. In addition, it stems from a closed-minded, racist mindset that usually has either an ignorant or degrading tone.
Another example of a “model minority” stereotype is people of color reaching high levels of academia. I used to look in The Gordon School’s brochures to see if I was featured in any of the pictures. When I would find myself, I was always delighted because I was proud to represent my school. What I didn’t realize was that my being in the brochure, sometimes even on the cover page, was an institutional tactic that illustrates the “model minority.” I wasn’t just representing my school, but also its apparent “diversity,” masking the reality of it actually being a predominately – 60 percent – white institution. While The Gordon School has the largest percentage of minority students I have seen and is making strides toward equality, all of this does not amount to students of color being equal. The brochures act as pedestals where the school highlights students of color to demonstrate that they can achieve high levels of academia as if it is something to marvel at. The existence of a few students of color on brochures implicitly reinforces the “model minority” stereotype and can ultimately be viewed as “model minority” propaganda. After this realization, I became wary every time a brochure was printed, not wanting to play into this role and these harmful stereotypes.
This wariness has followed me all the way to college. I am currently a junior at Wesleyan University, another predominately white institution where 47 percent of students are minorities or people of color (BIPOC). Everyone who has attended Wesleyan this fall has probably seen the university photographer walking around outside of Usdan — the university’s main dining hall — with a camera in hand. I’ve witnessed them scoping out the perfect table to capture and usually set their sights on the tables with students of color or tables mixed with white students and students of color. This selectiveness makes me inclined to believe that they are consciously or subconsciously photographing students focusing on how to best represent diversity on campus.
The “model minority” is embedded into the work the photographer does and plays into. It is an institutional tactic that has long been established, and that some may not even be fully aware of. Nonetheless, it happens and students of color register it. Not only is it uncomfortable to have your picture taken during lunchtime, but it reinforces the stereotypes that society should move away from. While there isn’t an immediate solution, we should all continue to build awareness of “model minority propagation.” Our responsibility, as consumers of advertisements, is to hold businesses and universities accountable for their false advertisements. If we can’t erase stereotypes in society, we can at least display realistic advertisements that illustrate a person of color as much more than a “model minority.”
References
Blackburn, Sarah-Soonling. “What Is the Model Minority Myth?” Learning for Justice. Southern Poverty Law Center, March 21, 2019.
https://www.learningforjustice.org/magazine/what-is-the-model-minority-myth.
The Gordon School. “Our Mission.” The Gordon School. November 20, 2022.