(Part of) Who I am:

I want to share a small bit of my story to contextualize this reflection further.

My family story has an immigrant core. Both my grandparents and my parents emigrated from their respective birth lands (mainland China and Taiwan) in search of political safety and new opportunities for their families, respectively.

I have been told that hard work and perseverance are part of a creed that is bred into my - and our - bones. It is my family’s legacy. There is immeasurable pride in my family’s physical toil of working the land from lush island into agriculture fields, from(?) fishing the seas and ocean to building navy ships--- that despite the grueling labor, “it” was worth it for survival and creating stability for future generations.

The same expenditure of physical labor lived in my parents, in their commitment to building a better life in the United States for my sister and me. My childhood and immigrant experience centered around the physical and emotional absence of my parents, and the accelerated pace of growing up, becoming independent and self-sufficient as soon as possible. 

As the first generation to attend college, my sister and I also carried all the expectations to be more successful than all those before us. Education was the only road to success. To be able to go to college and attain “white collar” jobs, preferably a doctor, lawyer, or accountant, were signifiers of achieving a certain level of social and economic status – perhaps that we all (the generations before and after me and even representing the AAPI people) had made it. 

On a sociocultural level: In the model minority trope, AAPIs are used as the example of the “good” immigrants/POC who achieved the American Dream because Asians and Asian Americans survived and thrived by putting our heads down, never complaining, getting our work done and never causing or stirring up trouble. This narrative has created significant divisions between communities of color and further perpetuated stereotypes and paranoia of a “dog eat dog” world that we, especially as BIPOC people, must fight each other over the same small slice of US economic pie. 

Myth-busting & Existing tensions: 

Several realizations rose to the surface as I questioned and reflected on my various sociocultural identities and familial legacy. I became more aware of:

• Binary of hard-working to being lazy residing in me. There were only two statuses: either I was hard working or I was lazy; any space between or outside of it collapsed, did not exist. The word lazy is such a loaded word, and one embedded with white supremacist underpinnings and meanings and weaponized to pit communities of color against each other. And, this binary is entrenched in imperialism, colonization, xenophobia, and racism.

• Nuance between hard work & grind culture. Because there was pride attached to my familial legacy of being hard working, I was oblivious to the nuances between working hard and being worked to death. And there is a difference. 

Being able to preserve and survive is invaluable. My family’s blood, sweat and tears are something to be proud of, and it was exploited, passed on across generations and morphed into something else that was difficult to untangle and give up. Hard work is not grind culture that views human beings as machines, willing and ready to donate our lives to a capitalist system that thrives by placing profits over people. Grind culture, even hustle culture, is a collaboration between white supremacy and capitalism.

• The American Dream alongside the myth of meritocracy. 

Despite my knowledge that the myth of the American Dream is a reinforcement of classist division, it was difficult for me to throw away the fantasy of a meritocratic society. I wanted so hard to believe that success and advancement were based on one’s hard work and/or ability that I blamed myself for lacking in these areas. It felt easier to believe that I wasn’t working hard enough, and all of my parents’ sacrifices were for naught. Such messaging is difficult to eradicate.

I end with these thoughts.

I thought I was aware of how isms and harmful internalized scripts have impacted me. I was staggered to discover how entrenched some of these narratives remained in and affected me. And, that pissed me off.

I believe labor and productivity is a collective issue. I also believe that capitalism, white supremacy, and colonization have tamed and muffled our field and conversations with each other on these topics. These structures continue to perpetuate alienation and self-isolation, which in turn also prevents the next generation of important dialogues and systemic solutions. Even in putting words to these thoughts, I had nagging worries that I was coming off as whining and complaining. Who am I to talk about this when I had plenty of privileges and security (which is true!)?! And having presented numerous times on these topics and talked with folks, I believe I am onto something worthwhile. 

I have settled into no longer warring with myself (as much). In my own assessment and valuing of my work, I now have clarity of where and what my line in the sand is when it comes to being exploited. I have left that institution for my self-preservation. While financial security is an ongoing issue, I feel lighter in being able to turn down toxic messages that have been so harmful to me. I feel liberated to celebrate my family’s enduring and awe-inspiring resiliency while also saying “no more.” I am hopeful that by sharing my mid-life crisis, we can start having more conversations about this pertinent topic.