The Model Minority: Asian-American Youth and the Harmful Perpetuation of a Cultural Myth

My living room piano speaks loudly through its stillness. Drawn to the haunting beauty of its polished black wood, visitors would constantly inquire about the dust on its keys. As its former player, I was expected to replace the quiet with a symphony; only a weak voice would answer. I used to play, but I don’t know how to anymore. They were never satisfied by this reply: Surely, you must remember something!

Instead of sonatas or fugues, what I remember is ten years of conflict. Since the age of five, one of my mom’s greatest goals was for me to become an accomplished pianist. Unfortunately, five-year-olds are not known for their willingness to devote their time to Chopin. My mom went through great lengths to get me to stay at that piano bench. A practice schedule of two hours a day was strictly enforced. She would beg and bargain, proposing peace offerings of ice cream. When those failed, time-outs, guilt trips, and cancelled play dates abounded. A frequent result was crying and yelling from both ends. Though the ferocity of the battle muted after a few years, any natural love for piano was effectively crushed. I did not ever play for joy or pleasure. Nevertheless, my mother’s pressure to perform became my own. As dozens of recitals and competitions passed, the community praised my talents and congratulatory ribbons accumulated on the walls above the piano. I must have memorized hundreds of pieces of classical music during my decade as a mandatory musician. After passing the most advanced level of performance exams with highest honors, I had finally accomplished what my mom had wanted. That was the last time I ever touched those keys.

When I share this story with other Asian-Americans, most of them can commiserate. Battles over the piano are a common theme of the first and second generation immigrant experience. Of course, there are slight variations. Instead of the piano, maybe the violin enslaved them; perhaps there was no instrument, and the enemy was mathematics. The specifics of the goal may differ, but an acute and unyielding push to excel lies behind each story. This conglomerate of societal and parental pressure directly targets academics and extracurricular activities. It percolates outward to affect all aspects of Asian-American life and seeps inward as high standards are internalized. The commonality of this cycle of expectation, external pressure, and assessment has even become a part of cultural myth. Asian-Americans are seen as the “model minority,” a hard-working, ambitious, and prosperous group because of inherent cultural values. While this is a reductive generalization, their statistical prevalence at top universities and in white-collar professions seems to support this stereotype (Fong 1075). Amidst the distracting decorations of success, one crucial question is often overlooked: what casualties result from this constant pressure to achieve?

I forfeited the piano, but much more is at stake. Many sacrifice their emotional well-being, their passions, their identities; some even give up on life. First and second generation Asian-American adolescents have internalized model minority standards of success with devastating results. Because education occurs during developmental years, these attitudes leave a deep, psychological imprint on involved youth. The idea that self-worth is restricted to quantitative measurements becomes ingrained in their consciousness, building from childhood and peaking during their undergraduate years. Psychological anxiety and mental health problems are prevalent even amongst those who attain the highest standards. Not only is this constant burden of expectation overwhelmingly stressful, but the myth also stifles individuality and normalizes self-sacrifice during a critical point of development when young adults begin to make independent choices and craft worldviews. The pressure on Asian-Americans to succeed becomes a feedback loop of burden and self-repression, perpetuating the model minority myth by encouraging conformity to its clichés.

De Capo: The Beginning

Asian-Americans have struggled with societal connotations of the model minority myth for decades. The term “model minority” was first used by sociologist William Petersen in a 1966 (Fong 1975). In a New York Times article titled “Success Story: Japanese-American Style,” Petersen praised Asian-Americans as an example that other minorities should emulate. Citing their academic and economic success, he lauded their ability to overcome obstacles like the World War II internment camps and stated that “every attempt to hamper their progress has resulted only in enhancing their determination to succeed” (Fong 1075). Petersen attributed their perseverance to cultural values of self-help and self-discipline, which are traits that continue to be associated with Asian-Americans today. His article’s explanation for their quantitative achievements gained popularity and spawned further discourse on the subject.

In addition to coining the concept of the “model minority,” Petersen established cultural difference as the basis for their success. This weaves subtle racism into the superficial flattery of the model minority myth. Because Petersen’s definition emphasized cultural disparity, Asian-American success became a foundation for societal separation. Indeed, cultural values play a significant role in Asian-American values because a “majority of them have only been living in America for two or fewer generations” (Iwamoto 80). Especially in Eastern Asian societies, Confucianism has a strong influence: Its tenets of respecting others and cultivating the self through study and work inculcate a “strong belief in meritocracy” that many immigrants maintain (Li 145). However, the reduction of Asian-American persistence to the mere transplantation of Confucian values from the East to West encourages awareness of distinction (Chou 222). It enables a perceived dichotomy between hemispheres to develop, representing the myth’s veneer of orientalism and cultural determinism (Chou 218). Binding Asian-Americans to the continent of Asia separates them from mainstream America, reinforcing the idea of otherness. This suggests that “no matter how well Asian-Americans assimilate, they are at best the model minorities instead of becoming part of the majority” (Chou 222).

A stereotype of foreignness emerges from the model minority myth and presents obstacles in the Asian-American pursuit for social acceptance. Although overtly racist policies like the Chinese Exclusion Act are a thing of the past, de facto discrimination is manifested through marginalization and ignorance. An underlying current of exclusion manifests itself daily through questions like “Where are you really from?” or “What are you?”, which Asian-Americans report receiving on a regular basis (Iwamoto 79). Because Asian-Americans are seen as foreigners, model minority rhetoric sometimes expressed anxiety and “fears of losing strength and the will to lead in the context of Asian domination” on an international and domestic level (Fong 1077). Immigrant success was an occasional source of antipathy for the threatened Caucasian majority, as well as other minority groups who felt denigrated by model minority rhetoric. Even when achievement did not breed hostility, it contributed to ignorance. Blinded by the façade of success, many Americans dismiss problems in the Asian-American community. Thus, the model minority myth presents Asian-Americans with a burdensome dilemma: Success is the means toward societal acceptance, yet it is also a criterion for exclusion and misunderstanding.

Allegro: My Tempo Must Be Fast if I Want to Keep Pace

The nuanced duality of success as a mode of acceptance and exclusion adds to a feedback cycle of pressure. Cognizant of racism and other societal obstacles, Asian immigrants felt the need to work even harder to improve their condition of life. Because early Asian immigrants were excluded from labor unions and had very few options for employment, they saw “schooling as one of the only avenues left for their upward mobility” (Lee 54). Relying on the meritocratic systems of their homelands, immigrant parents believed that education was the purest means for their children to attain a better life. Despite the elimination of de jure discrimination, this conviction persisted over time. A 2009 psychological study found that anxiety over a perception of foreignness caused parents to emphasize academic achievement as a “means to achieve higher social status and overcome potential discrimination” (Benner and Kim 873). Parents perpetuated these feelings by instilling a similar, anxious drive in their offspring. Interviews with Asian-American valedictorians and other top ranking students reveal the commonality of their motivations: “We know we are a minority in this country, and we have to do better than other Americans. That’s the only way we’ll have a chance” (Hsia 92). Excelling in school, attending a prestigious university, and earning a comfortable living in a white-collared profession became the immigrant American Dream. Sadly, Asian-Americans felt that twice as much effort would be required to attain it. Perceived racism indoctrinated immigrant parents with the pressure to succeed, and this anxiety contributed to the flourishing of a new stereotype: the model minority.

The cultivation of this uneasiness moved model minority expectations from a societal to parental basis, and Asian-American familial structure was especially conducive to this development. Traditional values like “honoring parents, not bringing shame to the family, and placing family before the individual” facilitate molding a disciplined work ethic (Fong 1075). The close-knit “family-centered nature of Asian families” also causes pressure to become an especially consumptive part of the lives of Asian-American youth (Lee 53). Parental pressure is especially onerous in their communities because the burden of familial honor and advancement is placed on the child. In interviews conducted by New York University, a Chinese-American undergraduate claims that “parents believe that how kids do in school reflects on the entire family” (Teranishi 72). Asian parents view their children as extensions of themselves, so excellence in education is a family affair. The combination of home life and educational expectations contribute to schooling’s omnipresence. A Harvard student who was interviewed for CNN’s “Asian in America” supports this claim: “I know that family and education were most important in my family. It’s one of the best aspects of Asian-American culture. It’s a double edged sword though…because it can be brutal.”

A salient example of the overwhelming parental pressure exerted on first and second generation Asian-Americans, New York Times bestseller Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother describes one mother’s merciless integration of home life and academic expectation. Exalting a harsh parenting style as typical of the “Chinese way,” Yale Law School professor Amy Chua proudly shares the secrets behind her daughters’ success. Pushing her children to excel in all subjects, she finds that it is “crucial to override their preferences” because “nothing is fun until you’re good at it, and to get good at anything you have to work” (Chua 43). She talks about excoriating her daughters publically to yield better piano performances, admitting that she even withheld bathroom privileges until one child could adequately play a difficult piece. To counter those who are shocked at her austerity, she maintains that everything is done in her daughters’ best interest: “Chinese mothers believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they're capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away” (Chua 182). In her explanation for why such harsh parenting is necessary, she conveys why hard work, education, and anxiety over the future are underlying Asian-American themes in the push for success. She has raised her children in this manner since they were young, and this trend toward accomplishment at all costs only increases as higher education approaches.