A Chance to Change the Narrative
JDT
It was supposed to be like any normal Monday morning for me during COVID, just another start to a workweek in my home office. Little did I know that today would be different. As usual, I went to bed a lot later than I should have and I ended up waking up way too early and just couldn't get back to sleep. Giving up on attempting to get extra rest, I reached over the bed for the remote and clicked on the tube. Get some of the latest COVID updates, hear the useless political talk, and get a glimpse of the weather of the day - same 'ole, same 'ole right?
Sure enough, it was all the things I expected to hear except one... a story about a group of teens in the area establishing a non-profit looking to destigmatize mental health in the Asian American community?
My ears perked up and my eyes advanced from halfway closed to wide open. Naturally, as an Asian American myself, I was intrigued. It's always great to see the next generation of young people who were essentially me all those years ago now doing things in the community, and hearing about them I feel a great sense of pride. Especially as a father of two Asian American teens, I wanted to see what their peers were accomplishing. But what I ended up witnessing was just a little bit different. As I watched with anticipation, hearing about the project and its goals - wanting to debunk the Model Minority Myth, changing how the importance of mental health was seen among the Asian American community, and looking to bridge the intergenerational gap between immigrant parents and their American-born children - I was really blown away by the mission – but also in a different way.
I immediately got up, went to my computer, and went to the website for Project Lotus. Literally, for the next couple of hours, I absorbed the content. I read blog posts, listened to episodes of the podcast, perused through some of the linked articles. Everything described resonated in my body deeply on so many levels. The struggles with living up to expectations, both self-imposed and from others. Battling the stereotypes of what I was supposed to contribute to society versus what I actually wanted to do. The secret pain that existed yet was forbidden to be discussed, turning to other things to medicate that hurt. I might now be 30-plus years removed from being a teen, but I was hearing MY story.
I knew I had to get involved... but how?
I sent a note to the email addresses provided and got a response - they were interested in talking to me. A Zoom meeting was set up and three Asian-American faces not much older than my own children were on the line. I told my story – not quite Eddie Murphy raw - but holding very little back. I talked about growing up as an Asian American (an “Oriental” in those days) in an area of the country where there weren't many like me and the struggle to fit in. About trying to endure the pressures both from society and my own family to succeed in areas that were seemingly pre-destined for me and never feeling like I truly met the bar. About feeling the weight that what I accomplished - or maybe more so what I didn't accomplish - not only reflected on myself but my family, if not all Asians.
I described my own journey of eventually hitting rock bottom as an adult, forcing me to finally seek help and find healing with my mental health. From childhood to adulthood, from being a kid to now being a parent, I bore a part of my soul.
When I was done, thankfully no one was scared off. We spent some time chatting afterward and I listened to their questions and comments.
As it turned out many parts of my story sounded very familiar to them - in fact, they found it amazing how someone had trodden the same path, only it was decades before. They had never really interacted with an Asian American who despite being their parents' age, was similar to them and could speak their "language". I even heard the compliment that talking to me was like talking to someone in their own friend group - I could only laugh and told them to tell that to my kids, for they sure felt differently about their dear old dad!
I knew how I could be involved and contribute - simply by sharing my story. Especially in recent years - I've come to understand that life experiences, both good and bad, are never wasted. The joys, the tribulations, when shared openly can often benefit others by offering hope and help. If sharing my struggles - and how I was able to work through and even overcome some of them - could help others in their life's journey to avoid the same pitfalls, what a blessing that would be. Or if I could just be a listening ear, be someone who simply understood and help them realize they weren't alone with their feelings - oh, how I wished I had that when I was that same age. And here I was looking at the opportunity to be exactly that for others.
I strongly believe that things don’t happen by accident. There’s a reason why I woke up early that Monday morning, couldn’t happen to get back to sleep, and then catch the news story when I did. That's why you're reading all this right now. I might not be the best with the written word - after all, I only got a 600 as my verbal SAT score - but what I can do is be real. And sometimes that’s all you need to do to lend a voice to something you care about and hope to help others with.
Reflecting back on that Zoom meeting, one of the sadder things that I heard from the youth was that so many of the same things I experienced and described still exist in our Asian American communities today. It's almost like things haven't changed. But I'm hanging on to hope - Rome wasn't built in a day. I’ve seen healing in my own personal journey and in others around me, so I know it can be done. If we can openly talk about our struggles, we can dispel the stigmas and repel the shame. We'll never be able to fully modify thinking that's been passed down for generations but we can help change the current narrative and the future.