Meagan Su Our Approach
We are APHC (Asian Pacific Health Corps) at UCLA, an organization aiming to promote healthy lifestyles and provide healthcare resources for the underserved API community. As health insurance can oftentimes be a confusing journey for many, we seek to introduce the basics of U.S. healthcare insurance and tips on how the API community can find the most suitable healthcare insurance for themselves in the U.S. What is healthcare insurance in the US? Healthcare insurance in the US can help pay for medical expenses through privately purchased insurance, social insurance, or a social welfare program funded by the government (“Why health insurance is important”, n.d.). Different healthcare insurances in the US can cover different medical costs, from vaccination to cancer treatment. Why do we need healthcare insurance? It could be very expensive to visit a doctor once in the US without healthcare insurance. A single doctor’s office visit may cost several hundred dollars and an average three-day hospital stay can run tens of thousands of dollars or even more depending on the type of care provided (“How U.S. Health Insurance Works”, n.d.). Most of us could not afford to pay such large sums if we got sick, especially since we don’t know when we might become ill or injured or how much care we might need. Health insurance offers a way to reduce such costs to more reasonable amounts, and it can reduce the financial pressure on people. Mr. Wong, one of the interviewers, was a Chinese immigrant who moved to New York in 2000. He had heard that medical care in the United States was so expensive that he didn't even dare to get sick. Even if he felt uncomfortable, he simply put up with it, telling himself that it was an “exercise” for his immune system. Without health insurance, the burden of a single doctor's visit and the potential expenses of a hospital stay felt like an insurmountable mountain. In a foreign land with uncertainties abound, health insurance emerged as a crucial shield, offering financial relief and ensuring that the pursuit of the American dream wasn't overshadowed by the looming shadows of medical bills. How do immigrants get healthcare insurance in the US? With society's progress and development, it is much easier for immigrants to get healthcare insurance than before. Many healthcare organizations offer different language translators and healthcare insurance applications for various immigrants, and most of them focus on helping Asian immigrants, providing Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Thai, etc.(“Key Facts on Health Coverage of Immigrants”, n.d. ) Also, there are more professional service centers and organizations that can offer assistance with enrolling in health insurance programs, such as Medicaid, CHIP, or marketplace plans. This assistance may include helping immigrants understand eligibility criteria, completing application forms, gathering required documentation, and navigating the enrollment process. For example, the APAC insurance service center provides guided assistance throughout the insurance application, minimizing obstacles surrounding language barriers. Additionally, United Health Care can guide the immigrants through the application for health insurance until they get it successfully. Lastly, Medi-Cal and Medicare can offer help with applying for healthcare insurance and language help for the elderly API immigrants living in California. How to Choose the Most Suitable Healthcare Insurance? There are more and more applicable choices of healthcare insurance for API immigrants to choose from. How to choose the best one for you? Here are some key factors and conditions for you to consider:
Sources: How U.S. Health Insurance Works. Vaden Health Services. (n.d.). https://vaden.stanford.edu/insurance-referral-office/health-insurance-overview/how-us-health-insurance-works See how health insurance coverage protects you. See How Health Insurance Coverage Protects You | HealthCare.gov. (n.d.-a). https://www.healthcare.gov/why-coverage-is-important/#:~:text=Health%20insurance%20covers%20essential%20health,before%20you%20meet%20your%20deductible. Key facts on health coverage of immigrants. KFF. (2024, February 6). https://www.kff.org/racial-equity-and-health-policy/fact-sheet/key-facts-on-health-coverage-of-immigrants/ About the Author Meagan Su, a senior student at UCLA majoring in Biology, is profoundly interested in exploring healthcare treatments and policies in the U.S. As an Asian American, she is deeply committed to serving and advocating for the Asian and Pacific Islander (API) communities. She is also an undergraduate researcher, healthcare volunteer, and artistic instructor outside APHC.
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Isaac Yoon and Jonathan Wang interviewed Dr. Wonseop Lee, an Acupuncture specialist practicing in Newport Beach. The interview discussed how Asian American health disparities are prominent throughout the nation, especially in predominantly caucasian areas.
What experiences have you had in your profession regarding being an Asian American? 25 years ago I came to America as an acupuncture doctor and the adjustment was definitely not easy. At that time Eastern medicine was not widespread whatsoever and my practices were often misunderstood by patients. Even a slight side effect after receiving treatment would lead to them threatening to sue me, and this wasn’t a rare occurrence. However, as the American healthcare system began to show more interest in Eastern medicine and schools in the United States began to conduct more research on Eastern medicine such as Harvard, they soon began to understand the intricacies of acupuncture such as how applying needles in the leg can help ailments in the eye. As these discoveries continued, even natural health stores or common pharmacies have begun to take interest and implement Eastern medicinal herbs. This soon became commonplace as these pharmacies opened their eyes to the potency and effectiveness of these herbs. Later, American pharmaceutical corporations would mass produce these herbs and Americans have come to love this type of medicine. Despite these advancements, prescription knowledge of these types of medicine is lacking. Even now, many doctors and pharmacies don’t know what type of Eastern medicinal herb is needed in certain scenarios which causes difficulties in prescription. Nonetheless,we’ve come to the stage where there is heavy interest in Eastern medicine. When it comes to difficulties with language, my medical practice in Florida showed me that there is still a lot of discrimination towards Asian people. I could pick up on the feeling that white medical practitioners and patients tended to look down on me. This caused an even greater urgency to explain Eastern medicine to these people and help them understand. When it comes to cultural differences, Koreans tend to value courtesy very highly especially when it comes to our families. The Korean family is not based on the American idea of an “immediate family” but an “extended family.” This meant that the patients here would often be shaped by individualistic ideals and follow their own beliefs or thoughts instead of my suggestions. I had to adjust to this culture because I couldn’t tell them to change their own values. I began to think that I must become “Americanized” and become acculturated to the way of life here. What are some of the similarities and differences between the body constitutions of Asian individuals and other races as well as the optimal treatment methods according to these differences? Asian and Western people have distinctive constitutions by nature. Asian people have a “vegetable DNA,” or a constitution that benefits from a more plant-centered diet and Western people have a different DNA or constitution. This difference in constitution causes a difference in treatment methods which arises from the Asian’s constitution which is “deficient”, while the Western constitution is stronger and powerful. Because Asian body constitutions are generally weaker, they need more medicine to support their body while Western people have more strength than needed which means they need treatments that lower this excess of energy. This isn’t the case for all Asian people or all Western people. I’d say around 80% of Asians have this “deficient” constitution while 80% of Westerners have a more powerful body characteristic. This causes Westerners to have more resistance to hot or cold environments as their body can maintain homeostasis better, while Asian people are weaker at resisting both temperature extremes. This is what leads to the differences in treatments. Because the Eastern and Western treatments are so different, aren’t there instances where Asians can misunderstand the American healthcare system? Due to Western medicine’s immediate effectiveness, Asians also understand the benefits of Western medicine. For example, Western medicine’s systematic nature of prescribing specific medications for specific cases leads to a consistency that can be relied on. If an Asian person gets a bacterial infection, they will get the same antibiotic prescribed to them no matter what clinic they go to and they will still undergo chemotherapy at any hospital if they get cancer. By forcefully killing viruses or cutting out problematic areas in the body, western medicine gives immediate results that are forceful but reliable and feasible. On the other hand, Eastern medicine isn’t about killing or cutting out but settling natural herbs into the body to support the internal organs and strengthen one’s immune system. This will dissipate the germs and illnesses in one’s body naturally. Wouldn’t the lack of overall wellness and internal organ support that Western medicine provides compared to Eastern medicine lead to an eventual disappointment in certain Western medicine practices within Asian immigrants? I think so. Patients in regions such as Newport Beach have distrust for Western medicine and avoid eating medication. This is because western medicine damages one part of the body as a cost for repairing another. This causes a cycle where the newly damaged area requires a different type of medication which causes damage to another area requiring new medication, and eventually patient medication lists can span up to 3 pages long. There are lots of experiences like this. On the other hand, people with time on their hands can take prolonged eastern treatment which would make them better without a doubt, as the natural remedies are harmonious to their body. However, Western medication usually sacrifices one for another which could lead to distrust from the Asian community. Are there any social ways we can bridge the healthcare disparity in Asian Communities? I believe that healthcare providers can often discriminate against Asians because they believe Asians are not as keen to notice the mistakes they make and they can overcharge or exploit these oversights easily. One of the ways to fix this is just to work towards people treating each other equally and for healthcare providers to not be counterfeit in their practices. Dr. Wonseop Lee Acupuncture & Oriental Medicine Master at South Baylor University (1999~2002) American Liberty University (2002~2005) Ph.D Sun Acupuncture Clinic in La Crescenta, CA (2002 ~ 2005 ) Lee Acupuncture Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida (2005 ~ 2010) Rapha Acupuncture in Newport Beach, CA (2010~Current) Isaac Yoon, Jonathan Wang Growing up in a Korean church that placed a heavy emphasis on outreach to other countries and spreading the gospel, I was introduced at a young age to the honorable efforts of health professionals combating health disparities in global communities. While funding and economic issues were the main reasons for the disparities in healthcare for countries such as Mongolia, I found that people with disabilities also experienced a big gap in both the availability of transportation and finding suitable vocations in many households to gain access to healthcare. However, from witnessing health professionals contribute to solving these disparities, I realized that these issues could all be resolved with a more thorough approach to healthcare. One way to achieve this thorough approach to healthcare to help underrepresented communities, specifically API communities in the United States, is better integration of Eastern and Western medicine in the healthcare system. Coming from a context of Eastern medicine and differing styles of healthcare and communication, many API individuals can find it hard to adapt to Western medicine and fully adapt to the system of healthcare in the United States. While Eastern medicine focuses more on well-rounded remedies such as acupuncture or exercise therapy, Western medicine focuses on addressing specific illnesses or targeting particular parts of the body to achieve immediate results. On the other hand, Eastern medicine uses herbal treatments where “herbs are combined in a specific proportion. The concept is that herbs work together to obtain the best response [having] no specific targets” (Zhang et al., 2019). While Western medicine remedies contain the same compounds as these herbs, “it has evolved from the use of herbs to the isolation and use of the most active ingredient in herbs, to the use of (semi-)synthetic compounds. Relatively recently acquired knowledge on the chemical structure of drugs and on specific targets, e.g., receptors, has made it possible to elucidate the molecular mode of action” (Zhang et al., 2019). In other words, Eastern medicine uses herbal mixtures that are not specific to certain parts of the body and instead boost the overall energy and health of the patient. On the other hand, Western medicine uses specific compounds commonly found in these herbs but concentrates them in certain medicines to create a more concentrated response in the body within targeted regions. This drastically varying method of treatment could intimidate or alienate APIs who may be used to the Eastern style of medicine, as though Western medicine remedies tend to have stronger responses due to the concentrated nature of the medicine, they also contain more side effects. Side effects from common allergy medicine, such as Benadryl, could lead to disappointment in API communities when they feel lethargic especially when the effects of eastern medicine such as “[Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM)] are low. In TCM, patients are treated in a ‘personalized’ way according to the tradition and the doctor’s experience” (Zhang et al., 2019). The stark difference in personalization and care to the patient, side effects, and overall drug effectiveness are all ways APIs can feel alienated via Western medicine treatments. Furthermore, the temporary nature of Western remedies can lead to distrust of an API’s healthcare provider. Many APIs go to American healthcare providers with ailments expecting them to be less prone to sickness later down the line as a result of the consultation, but the truth is that the cold medicine provided by the U.S. healthcare system doesn’t have the effects of long-term immune system boost like Eastern herbal medicine would. Patients have reported a decrease in pain and improved recovery times after utilizing Eastern medicine such as acupuncture and various herbal products (Hopp, 2019). If the API individual were to get sick within the next month, they could grow hesitation against the healthcare provider which could lead to an invalidation of Western treatments as a whole. However, there are many cases where Western medicine is needed for Asian Americans. In our interview with Dr. Lee from Rapha Acupuncture, Dr. Lee stated that “Western medicine’s systematic nature of prescribing specific medications for specific cases leads to a consistency that can be relied on. If an Asian person gets a bacterial infection, they will get the same antibiotic prescribed to them no matter what clinic they go to and they will still undergo chemotherapy at any hospital if they get cancer. By forcefully killing viruses or cutting out problematic areas in the body, western medicine gives immediate results that are reliable and feasible.” Asian Pacific Health Corps (APHC) serves disadvantaged Asian and Pacific Islander communities. APHC hosts free bi-monthly health fairs, providing hypertension, BMI, vision, and other health services. During the Monterey Park Health Fair, we interviewed several patients about their decisions to attend. A common thread emerged among the respondents, with most highlighting the health fair's convenient location and the appealing factor of being free. This emphasis on affordability is exemplified in the article, "Barriers to Health Care Access in 13 Asian American Communities" as it sheds light on the broader challenges to Asian American health disparities. For instance, the insurance rate for whites is approximately twelve percent compared to seventeen percent for Asian Americans (Lee et al., 2010). Moreover, Asian American immigrants struggle to find stable jobs and income, which hinders their ability to afford healthcare. Due to COVID-19, the percentage of employed Asian American men dropped by 17.5 percent compared to only decreasing by 11 percent for Caucasian men (Kim, 2021). Additionally, language and cultural barriers alienate Asian Americans further through unconscious biases and communication differences. For instance, Asian Americans with limited English proficiency have difficulties understanding healthcare terminology and communicating with providers. Many Asian Americans believe that their doctors do not comprehend their culture (President's Advisory Commission, 2003). These can negatively impact the hiring and/or promotion of Asian Americans in the workplace, thereby creating larger health disparities in the community. Another way to ensure that underrepresented API individuals receive proper healthcare and resources is to ascertain that the information they receive about healthcare is tailored to their culture and understanding of medicine. For example, providing informational pamphlets about certain diseases, screenings, or clinics in different API languages so they can have a better understanding of these concepts can be important. In addition, even giving information about how certain Western medical procedures translate to Eastern medical procedures can help dramatically. For instance, Western pain management treatments such as injections or medications exhibit parallels to Eastern acupuncture. Specifically, many API individuals are more used to Eastern medicine than Western medicine, and giving out information about how certain Western medicine procedures are similar to Eastern medicine can help open these people up to other Western medicine processes. The article by Ming Huang asserts that combining Eastern and Western medicine alleviates circulatory and respiratory diseases, and has been "proven [effective] in the treatment of persistent fever, coma, and pulmonary effusion" (Huang, 2023). This understanding has the potential to bridge the gap of health disparities in the Asian American community. In conclusion, the disparities in healthcare such as lack of healthcare information and the inability to afford healthcare due to lack of financial support faced by Asian Pacific Islander (API) communities highlight the urgent need for comprehensive and culturally sensitive approaches to healthcare. Challenges such as affordability and employment opportunities ultimately widen health disparities in communities. Moreover, efforts to tailor healthcare information, including effective translation and communication, and bridge the gap between Eastern and Western medicine can enhance understanding and acceptance within API communities. The intersection of the lower insurance and employment rates as well as cultural obstacles, such as language barriers, deepens the health divide among Asian Americans, which underscores the need to promote equal access to healthcare for all members of the community. Dismantling the structural inequalities will bridge the healthcare gap between communities and can ensure a healthier and more inclusive society. Sources: Lee S, Martinez G, Ma GX, Hsu CE, Robinson ES, Bawa J, Juon HS. Barriers to health care access in 13 Asian American communities. Am J Health Behav. 2010 Jan-Feb;34(1):21-30. doi: 10.5993/ajhb.34.1.3. PMID: 19663748; PMCID: PMC6628721. Huang, Ming et al. “The role and advantage of traditional Chinese medicine in the prevention and treatment of COVID-19.” Journal of integrative medicine vol. 21,5 (2023): 407-412. doi:10.1016/j.joim.2023.08.003 https://www.nccih.nih.gov/health/traditional-chinese-medicine-what-you-need-to-know(Hopp 2019) Kim AT, Kim C, Tuttle SE, Zhang Y. COVID-19 and the decline in Asian American employment. Res Soc Stratif Mobil. 2021 Feb;71:100563. doi: 10.1016/j.rssm.2020.100563. Epub 2020 Oct 8. PMID: 33052161; PMCID: PMC7543758. President’s Advisory Commission on Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders Addressing Health Disparities: Opportunities for Building a Healthier America, 2003 Zhang, M., Moalin, M., & Guido. (2019). Connecting West and East. International Journal of Molecular Sciences (Online), 20(9), 2333–2333. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijms20092333 About the Authors:
Isaac Yoon (he/him) is a 1st year biology major. He spends his free time going to the gym, playing the clarinet, playing basketball, playing video games, and hanging out with friends. Jonathan Wang (he/him) is a 2nd year psychobiology major. He spends his free time watching sports, especially basketball and football, hanging out with friends, and watching anime. Part 1: Experiences of Queer and Trans South Asians Chip Agarwal I interviewed Prahas Rudraraju (they/them), a Master’s student in Asian American studies at UCLA. We talked about experiences of colorism within the Asian American community and navigating queerness and transness in Asian spaces.
We discussed the feeling of being the “spokesperson” for different communities, whether it be as queer people or Indian people. Rather than finding a solution to this, we identified that this may be relatively inescapable. The practice to prioritize in these situations is rest and finding spaces where you do not have to “speak for your people.” For Prahas, they were able to find a queer Indian space in a local organization, Satrang SoCal. This organization provides a safe social space for queer and trans south Asians. When speaking with Prahas, I came to the conclusion that there really is no avoiding advocating for your communities, nor did either of us really desire to. However, the important thing is to avoid burnout, making sure you always have ways to recharge yourself from this important expenditure of mental energy. One example of the erasure of gender diversity in India can be seen in holy texts. In Hindu holy tests, such as the Mahabharata and the Ramayana, there is strong documentation of how the hero Arjuna was gender-diverse. He is described as “Arjuni – the female Arjuna.” However, as in many cultures, these legacies of diversity have been lost, often purposefully. This presence of Arjuna as gender-diverse is not common knowledge today, even to those who are experts in these texts.. The significance of this is that those who read these texts today do not understand gender diversity as not only a part, but an integral part of our culture. Had this incident of erasure not occurred, we could have had a more promising and supported future for gender-diverse Indians globally. We turned to the topic of Asian American reception of queer and trans identities in the modern day. We could not help but comment on how stigmatized these identities are in our communities, despite the rich history of these identities within our cultures. I brought up the example of the hijra, a group of gender-diverse Indian people who have been recognized as a critical and holy part of Indian culture for centuries. They are often relied upon to bless newly married couples for future fertility, and to educate children of their communities. Prahas and I commented and shared how disappointing it is that these people, once holy, are now ostracized. Upon further research into this topic after our conversation, I uncovered that upon British colonization, hijra identity was criminalized. In 1864, the British created an extension of the 1533 Buggery Act that criminalized all gender-diversity and queerness in India. It aimed to eradicate “non-procreative sexualities.” This legislation, later immortalized as section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, resulted in a huge amount of hostility towards the hijra and other queer folks, shifting a prior legacy of acceptance to one of discrimination. This lack of a desire to understand diverse identities led to a subsequent and devastating loss of culture and quality of life for queer folk, especially the hijra. The hijra were excluded from nearly all employment for hundreds of years under this legislation. They continue to advocate for themselves and have made some progress in regaining rights today. Proposition 377 of the Indian Penal Code was struck down in 2018, decriminalizing homosexuality, and thus helping the fight for LGBTQ+ rights in India. It is heartening to know that progress is being made, though the legacy of colonization runs deep. Prahas and I transitioned our conversation towards looking forward, and I was curious to ask them if they had any advice for queer Asian youth. They talked about the importance of safe spaces where people feel comfortable being themselves. The biggest piece of advice I took away was, “find a space where you can thrive.” So there you have it, folks. Find a space where you can thrive. Things are looking up, I hope. Until next time, Chip About the Author: Chip is a third-year Psychobiology major and Classical Civilization. Chip is passionate about advocacy to create social change and serving the under-resourced in medicine, especially as a queer, trans, and nonbinary Indian person. Outside of APHC, Chip does research in the UCLA DiSH Lab and volunteers at local animal shelters. They enjoy spending time with family, french toast, and a good book. Ryan Horio
Starting at the end of 2019 and still lingering to this day, violence against the Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) community has ingrained its traumatic scars on individuals, families, and a whole generation of AAPIs. With the death of 8 Asian women at a spa shooting in Atlanta, GA, continuing hate crimes towards elderly in the Bay Area, and deadly attacks on individuals such as Michelle Go, everywhere we look are fragmented pieces of our nation’s xenophobic ideals that resurfaced with time and in the right conditions. According to the Department of Justice’s 2020 Hate Crime Statistics, there was a 77% increase of hate crimes towards Asians from 2019 to 2020. However, these numbers are not representative of the situation as a whole due to low reporting through official channels within the AAPI community. #STOPAAPIHATE, a movement and social organization formed to combat AAPI violence during the pandemic, received over 9,000 self-reported hate crimes from March 2020 to June 2021. Furthermore, a study conducted by Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health found that 25% of Asian Americans reported fears over another person threatening their safety because of their race or ethnicity. The COVID-19 pandemic was not simply an issue over public health but was rooted in the socio-political powers that ran our country at the time and influenced the rise of anti-Asian hate. During the Trump administration, anti-Asian rhetoric when describing COVID-19, such as “China virus” or “kung flu,” added fuel to the flames as white supremacists took this as a sign to harm members of the AAPI community. Maybe it was a ploy to reduce China’s power on the world stage, but hundreds of thousands of Asian Americans across the nation suffered its repercussions. My friends felt these repercussions, my family felt these repercussions, and I felt these repercussions. Whether that meant fearing for the safety of my mother and sister every time they went out in public or worrying about my grandparents who lived by themselves when they went out for groceries, the actions of the administration at the time taught me this—words, and how you use them, hold their weight in gold. Unfortunately, this is not the first time in our nation’s history that xenophobic sentiments excluded AAPIs. Legislation such as the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 and the Gentlemen’s Agreement of 1907 limited Asian immigrants from entering? America, and from these feelings coined the term, the Yellow Peril. Scapegoating Asian communities as the reason for public health crises and societal issues is not a new concept, and we saw glimpses of this during the Trump administration. When things start to go wrong, our country has always wanted to find others to blame, starting with the people who “don’t belong.” Although almost a century and a half has passed since this time, it is a shame to see how we have not changed our beliefs one bit. COVID-19 not only highlighted these social issues, but also revealed health inequities within the AAPI community. Before the pandemic, AAPIs had a sense of invisibility regarding health data. Due to racialization and the aggregation of different cultures and ethnicities under the broader umbrella of Asian or Pacific Islander, language barriers and cultural differences cause inaccurate data and data gaps. Moreover, due to historical events and everyday microaggressions, many lack trust in the government and public health sector. With a global pandemic on our hands, this sense of invisibility came into the limelight and displayed itself through the inequalities we see today in the accessibility to healthcare, misinformation about vaccinations, and misrepresentation within health data. Paranoia from seeing people getting attacked on national and local news outlets leads to increased rates of mental health issues, especially when these people look exactly like you. For a community that historically uses mental health specialists less than our white counterparts, we may be seeing an influx of depression, anxiety, or other mental health cases coming out of the pandemic as many refuse to talk about mental health, similar to other BIPOC communities. Faced with the truth about these social and health inequities, we can feel discouraged and pessimistic—I know I did—but we can also feel frustrated and impassioned to enact change. To take up arms, we can start by using our voices to amplify these untold stories. Now, more than ever, is the need for our lived experiences to penetrate into the mainstream instead of residing on the sidelines of such issues. Grassroots organizations such as Dear Asian Youth, an organization of Asian youth dedicated to uplifting and promoting the Asian community through intersectional activism, and J-Town Action and Solidarity, a collective building community power in Los Angeles Little Tokyo that is rooted in a history of activism and community care, were formed as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic to combat the inequalities and inequities minority communities have been facing. Taking initiative is something that we need. We should be creating spaces to learn about the history of AAPIs in our education system, not through a white-centric lens but through the perspectives of our own people. We need to bridge the cultural disconnect between white society and AAPIs through promoting diversification and understanding intersectionality. We need to reform the current narrative on AAPIs by doing it ourselves—not by letting others do it for us. Through the COVID-19 pandemic, we have learned about the flawed ideals this nation has continued to survive off of, and only through consistent action and unyielding solidarity can we move this country forward with our own two hands. Laura Kubiatko Asian Americans, specifically Chinese Immigrants, are the largest growing demographic in the United States increasing over 35% in the past 10 years. Despite the impression of this statistic, systemic and cultural communication barriers still exist between Asian Americans and accessibility to services in society. In particular, many regional East Asian languages, like Cantonese, aren’t considered “nationally” recognized languages, making this barrier even steeper. Facing the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic, the need for critical deliberation of public health and healthcare information is only exacerbated. To focus on Cantonese in specific, this language has over 80 million worldwide speakers, but only 18 four-year universities in the United States offer it as a formal language program. More universities and institutions favor Mandarin, also known as Putonghua, as the standard for Chinese languages. In comparison, Cantonese is often referred to as a “regional language” or academically as a Less Commonly Taught Language (LCTL). A common misconception about Cantonese and Mandarin is that they are simply dialects of each other – the expected comprehension between an English-speaking individual with a New York accent holding a conversation with an English-speaking Californian. Although they both share the same written characters, Cantonese and Mandarin are entirely different languages, featuring varying tones and pronunciations. The two are essentially incomprehensible to the other. Areas featuring lots of older Southern-Chinese immigrants in North America are historically Cantonese speaking enclaves. However, despite areas like the Bay Area with counties like San Francisco, San Mateo, Santa Clara having large populations of Chinese and, in particular, elderly Cantonese speakers, many institutions even in these areas do not prioritize Cantonese as a foreign language; Mandarin dominates in terms of popularity within Chinese academia. Many Chinese schools across North America do not even offer Cantonese as an option, meaning students with a historically Cantonese speaking family will only be offered the option to learn a language foreign to their heritage. The movement to #SaveCantonese originated in the wake of the termination of 20-year Stanford Professor, Dr. Sik Lee Dennig. Dennig served as Stanford’s only Cantonese language professor. In particular, she helped students reconnect with their heritage culture – incorporating both traditional language learning as well as immersive experiences. Despite the outcry of support by both Stanford students as well as Cantonese community members, Stanford denied the request to reinstate Dennig as a professor. Instead, they only offer two Cantonese courses – neither of which is taught by Dennig. Photo Courtesy: @SaveCantonese_CCSF
To support the #SaveCantonese Movement at Stanford and Community College of San Francisco, Asian American activist and writer Celeste Ng organized a petition garnering over 4,000 supporters. You, too, could add your signature to this list! Eradicating and de-prioritizing a language so essential to the Chinese-American immigrant population is also facilitating the creation of structural barriers: erasing cultural and communicative relationships. China is extremely linguistically diverse, in fact, Mandarin and Cantonese are only two of the most popular languages spoken by the Chinese population. Attempting to homogenize Chinese culture and linguistics by only offering instruction in one of the languages only erases, instead of highlighting, the rich history of Cantonese immigrants in North America. Anna Li
The “Asian American” is an inherently political identity. The concepts of the ornament, “the insignificant, the superfluous, the merely decorative, the shallow…,” the consumption of Asian goods and the “yellow” woman are easy to criticize. The discussion of the Asian American identity can move beyond attempting to place it objectively as a means of time and place. There is much more to how the identity, whether it is welcomed or not, is utilized as a political and aesthetic tool. In 2016, the US government banned the use of the word “oriental” from federal law. The word had been present in Title 42 of the US Code detailing public health and social welfare up until that point. It would be replaced with the term “Asian American,” created in 1968 to act as an umbrella term for a growing diversity of people of Asian descent. Ten years later in 1978, Asian Pacific American Heritage Week would be established (later into Asian Pacific American Heritage Month in May), combining two originally separated communities into what is known as the Asian Americans and Pacific Islander (AAPI) community. The Asian Pacific American community encompasses a large number of various ethnic groups from a various number of countries. At times, it is difficult to truly understand the worth in such a label when other more specific labels could be more appropriate. In Best! Letters from Asian Americans in the arts, Holly Shen writes, “I wanted to understand the nuanced relationship between representation and objecthood. I was uninterested in leveraging or exploring identity because I considered it juvenile… [but] the truth is, I wasn’t interested in identity politics because it meant having to engage in my Asian Otherness.” The concept of an “Asian Otherness,” often adopted into forms of orientalism, is not so much discussed in its form or how it has managed to stay alive rather than attacked for its existence. After all, as Xin Wang says in “Asian Futurism and the Non-Other,” “Otherness is not a universal experience… [it] necessarily operates from a place of deficiency.” A prominent definition of orientalism comes from Edward Said, who emphasized the West’s intentional distinction in separating ‘the Orient’ and ‘the Occident’ on several levels, including politically, socially and ideologically. Although Said’s book was centered around orientalism of the Middle East, the general concepts of the distinction between “the East” and “the West” (such as the overrun dualistic philosophies of “the collective” and “the individual” between the two groups) can still be applied. If we must accept the fact that globalization is an inevitable process, perhaps then the elements of Asian culture that are best palatable towards the West, or what the West chooses to represent the East can be seen as a pretty byproduct that is not truly “Asian.” If the Asian American identity is purely for modification and discourse within its community, what exactly does it mean to be Asian American? There comes the fear, and perhaps more prominently, anger, towards the buying in of the “Asian aesthetic,” both literal and metaphorical, while ignoring the basis of where such art came from. At the same time, there is a softer pushback in the name of “transorientalism,” claiming that the way globalization is changing and portraying the Asian identity is worth something in how it represents the current generations, and is not any less authentic compared to more “traditional” definition of defining what it means to be Asian. Even more insistently, fashion and art often push against the notion that an artistic idea is owned by a single or group of people. In regards to one prominent Chinese aesthetic in fashion and art, the blue and white porcelain, Michelle Guo mentions that “China voluntarily aestheticized itself into its ‘inauspicious signs’ for outsider consumption in the historical context of transnational trade rather than colonial power imbalance… the history of chinoiserie is one that is devoid of… sinisterly ideological underpinnings.” Yet still, there is a particular fear that race “pigeonholes” an artist’s work into forcing them to make their work about their identity. Jean Shin, an artist who works with detailed-oriented sculptures, speaks about a need to preserve her Korean-American identity yet knowing that it is utilized against her to generalize her art. But even if the artist does not intend to allow her art to represent a part of her racial or ethnic identity, the power lies in the audience in how it is interpreted and utilized. Ultimately, it is inherent to the identity-seeking process for some amount of performance to be involved: after all, “Asian American” and “Pacific Islander” are more than a single indicator of a person’s ancestry. Is it not enough to create art? It is, but it will not remain as simply just that as it diffuses out to its audience. There is no bowl of sweets to choose from: art will unconsciously cling to the experiences crudely and inaccurately defined as “the Asian American experience.” The idea of Asianness will remain an imperfect model of what a race looks like. But identity will always be there, unmoving, eternal. Trinity Vu Southeast Asia: Brunei, Burma, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, Timor-Leste, Thailand, Vietnam, and the Hmong people. For many people, this is a region of exotic animals, jungles, food, and vacation hotspots. However, these countries have more than just culture and picturesque destinations in common; they are connected by similar histories of war and trauma that have followed Southeast Asian immigrants to the United States creating a shared refugee experience. Many countries in Southeast Asia have experienced foreign militant occupation by imperialist forces at some point throughout their history. For example, the American occupation of the Philippines began in 1898 and continued into the 1900s before erupting into the Philippine-American war which resulted in hundreds of thousands of Filipino civilian casualties. It wasn’t until 1946 that the United States finally granted Philippines independence. A more recent event that resulted in the large-scale resettlement of many peoples within the Indochina region is the Vietnam War that began in 1955 and lasted until 1975. Occupied by the Japanese during World War II and the French afterwards, Vietnam was eventually able to expel imperialist presence and divided into North and South Vietnam. However, after the South Vietnamese president was assassinated, a war began between the two regions and American forces eventually traveled to aid the South. During this war, President Nixon carried out secret bombings of suspected communist camps in Laos in 1964 and Cambodia in 1969 before ordering the militant invasion of Cambodia in 1970. However, as the war dragged on, American forces gradually withdrew, Saigon fell, and communist governments were established resulting in the fleeing of many Vietnamese, Laotian, and Cambodian refugees to neighboring countries temporarily until they could find passage to the United States. A significant portion of these refugees traveled via small boats, fitting as many people as possible aboard each vessel, and became known as the boat people. During their journeys across the ocean, they faced constant risks of separation and death due to starvation, drowning, or possible attacks. Those who were able to arrive on US soil were placed into refugee camps across the country until they could be assigned to resettlement agencies that would help find them sponsors. Even if families were placed in the same camps, there were no guarantees that they would be resettled together or near each other. While sponsors were expected to assist refugees in adjusting to the country and assimilating into American society, if these sponsors did not possess the capacity and resources to aid refugees, the refugees often had no other access to health care services, education, and little options to enter the workforce. Despite refugees having immigrated to escape the war, often with little to no money, higher education and skills, and or sufficient English proficiency, they were expected to become self-sufficient, quickly adapting to life in the US, and follow the “American Dream” bootstrap narrative that hard work would lead to success commonly held by many voluntary migrants. This disparity between accessibility and expectation created a generation of immigrants who were expected to assimilate into American society with minimal aid and a lack of linguistic and cultural understanding while battling unaddressed trauma from war, violence, loss, and separation. While the Southeast Asian American (SEAA) population has grown to constitute a sizeable portion of the US demographic and the Vietnam war remains a large memory for many Americans, there is still a lack of Southeast Asian representation in academic curricula, especially the K-12 education system, unless it contains direct ties to a part of US history. This absence of acknowledgement and focus on Southeast Asian history has fostered a sense of invisibility and scarcity of agency among Southeast Asian students regarding their history, shared experiences, and culture. Because of this, there remains a simultaneous lack of solidarity among Southeast Asian students and disconnect from South and East Asian Americans.
The deficit of SEAA representation, coupled with the resettlement of many refugees into low-income areas and lack of aid provided to them, has resulted in disparities between the Southeast Asian American and general Asian American populations. These disparities and the challenges that result from them are masked by the lack of disaggregate data highlighting differences between specific SEAA populations in comparison to Asian American and national averages. For example, while Asian Americans have a greater college attainment rate than the general US population, the SEAA populations in particular have much lower rates. SEAA populations also possess a higher rate of unemployment, poverty, and low English proficiency than both the Asian American and national averages. These disparities continue into the American healthcare system in which, while it has become more inclusive of Asian accessibility, there remains a deficit of SEAA healthcare professionals and language-related accommodations and information dissemination. While it has become common practice to provide materials in different languages in healthcare settings, there is a lack of Southeast Asian vocabulary and translations that when coupled with low English proficiency populations produces linguistic barriers to accessing healthcare services including mental health care. SEAA are further hesitant to utilize these services because many are unfamiliar with the concept of mental health care and Western medicinal techniques and culture. Because of the culturally ingrained lack of acknowledgment of mental health accompanied by the cultural and linguistic barriers preventing those who desire care services from seeking them, many refugees battle with unaddressed trauma from their experiences during wartime and resettlement which is then passed on to descendants evolving into intergenerational trauma. The generational gap is further exacerbated by the lack of English proficiency in immigrants compared to the lack of non-English language proficiency among American-born generations which has generated a culture of silence in which younger generations do not ask and older generations do not tell about their experiences and stressors. The scarcity of SEA and SEAA representation in modern American media and the education system further deafens the silence emphasizing that SEAA should just work hard and assimilate into American culture as quickly as possible. Until the US begins down a path to address and remedy the disparities and barriers that continue to plague Southeast Asian Americans, these communities, engulfed by a culture of silence and passivity, will not be heard. Sources Brittany Tran Menacing. Corrupt. Threats. These characteristics revolved around Asian Americans during the period of growing Asian immigration during 19th and 20th century America, collectively culminating into the idea of the Yellow Peril.
The Yellow Peril is the intense fear that Chinese immigrants will invade and destroy the West in hordes, subsequently extending to all Asian groups. These xenophobic ideas manifested from the enduring fears underlying European society of the exotic “Orient” and included ideas of Asians as threatening, uncivilized, disease-ridden aliens whose purpose was to pollute pure, white society with non-Christian ideas. Yellow Peril beliefs are a form of racialization, the phenomenon in which ideas about different bodies are socially constructed by people in positions of power with particular agendas, who imposed their authority by specifically associating Asian Americans with repulsive characteristics. In the 19th and 20th centuries, Yellow Peril discourse was perpetuated by Asian exclusion policies and fueled the anti-Asian movement. Due to the increasing Asian immigration during this period, Yellow Peril fears intensified and US officials sought to decrease immigration, so they built Angel Island Immigration Station in the San Francisco Bay to selectively exclude Asians from entering the US. On Angel Island, Asian immigrants were detained for months to years in demoralizing conditions, subject to intense medical exams and nearly impossible interrogations, and were essentially imprisoned because they were isolated on the island. Yellow Peril discourse further justified the growing anti-Asian movement during this period. Xenophobic actions ranged from racist phrases hurled at Asian Americans walking on the streets to outright violence. For example, almost 300 attacks against Japanese Americans were recorded in San Francisco in 1906. Anti-Asian exclusion groups and laws were also implemented in response to growing Yellow Peril fears—predominantly those of Asians taking jobs from white laborers. Laws like the 1917 and 1924 Immigration Acts were imposed to restrict Asian immigration, while white labor groups like the Workingmen’s Party of California and the Asiatic Exclusion League pushed for Asian exclusion. Ideas that Asians were sources of contamination also stemmed from Yellow Peril beliefs. When smallpox overwhelmed San Francisco in 1876, health officials immediately blamed it on the “filthy and diseased” Chinese immigrants living in Chinatown, which was deemed a “plague spot.” Public health officials targeted Chinatown through surveillance, random inspections, and the nuisance law; authorities justified that this law was enforced to prevent environmental pollution from contaminating living spaces, but it was realistically used to regulate Chinese immigrants by controlling their conduct in public spaces and evicting them from their properties, while justifying these actions by maintaining Yellow Peril ideas that whites needed to be protected from “filthy” Chinese people. The current treatment and ideas towards Asian Americans are linked to historic Yellow Peril beliefs. Anti-Asian racism across the US ranges from microaggressions to violence, which has increased significantly with the COVID-19 pandemic because of foreigner racialization: between March and August 2020 alone, over 2,583 incidents of anti-Asian racism were reported. This specific form of racialization associates Asian Americans with Yellow Peril ideas that Asians are deviant, public health threats who must be infected simply based on their appearance and COVID-19’s Chinese origins. Characterizations of COVID-19 as “the Chinese virus” by powerful parties for political purposes further associates Asian Americans with disease and low standards of living. Ever since the rise of “China plague” and “China virus” discourse in the beginning of October, anti-Asian racism spiked once again, while ideas of justice and revenge against China began to circulate rapidly. This resurgence in Yellow Peril discourse is simply a rearticulation of historic ideas that Asian Americans are foreign, diseased, and in need of public health assistance, making Asians even more vulnerable to racism than before. Although rooted in history, Yellow Peril discourse has not yet disappeared; it still reverberates throughout our society today through Asian American discrimination and mistreatment. Richard Lu It’s 10:00 AM on a Saturday and you’ve woken up with a terrible case of bedhead.
“That’s alright, I’ll just take a shower” you think to yourself. Yet, the more time you spend scrubbing and brushing your hair, the more it becomes apparent that your messy hair has won. Finally you turn to your trusty last resort: a fresh haircut. You immediately call your favorite salon, but much to your surprise, no one picks up. The hair salon is closed today. In fact, it’s been closed for a few months now, and it’s not alone—all of the salons are closed! That’s been the case for the majority of Americans since early 2020—especially for those in California. However, to understand how we got to this point, we’ll first need to look at a recap of the events. As COVID-19 began spreading to the United States and much of the rest of the world in February 2020, California’s state governor Gavin Newsom hastily put his foot down on March 19, 2020 with the hopes of stopping the spread within the state dead in its tracks. In his rather terse “stay at home” order, Governor Newsom instructed for the entirety of California—except for “essential workers” such as health care providers—to remain at home and close their businesses in order to reduce contact between individuals. Included with those that had to close (and with no future reopening plans in sight), salon and barbershop owners were rendered helpless as they watched what for many was their only source of income slip away into the vice of COVID-19. This salon shutdown hit Vietnamese Americans in the state the hardest, as Vietnamese Americans own nearly 75% of all salons and comprise nearly 80% of the nail technician workforce in California. After being left in the dark for several months, the beauty services industry finally caught a break in late July when Newsom allowed for services such as barbershops, nail salons, and massage parlors to reopen in outdoors accommodations. However, by then the damage had been done; though they were allowed to reopen outdoors, only an estimated 20% of all salons actually reopened. The other 80% of salons were either on the brink of collapsing on rent (and therefore logistically could not reopen in time) or had closed down permanently. In fact, in a survey done by CalMatters in regards to reopening, 1/10 salons in Santa Clara County reported that they had permanently closed as a result of COVID-19 and Newsom’s lockdown order. This late break ended up being short-lived though, as sudden spikes in COVID-19 cases in California forced Newsom to lock down the state once again in early December 2020. With that, the fate of what was left of the Vietnamese American-owned beauty industry went up in the air. This brings us to today: early 2021. With salons and barbershops still closed and again with no true reopening plan in sight, many Vietnamese Americans in California (and various other states as well) are left counting the days until they can no longer provide for themselves and their families with their underwhelming unemployment benefits of $100 a week. On top of that, with a normal median salary of $23,000 for nail technicians, it’s unlikely that the average salon worker has enough money in their savings—if any at all. However, the damage done by these shutdowns is far from being solely financial. When the March lockdown first started, Newsom’s message included a shocking statement that immediately garnered discourse within the Vietnamese American community: “This whole thing started in the state of California—the first community spread—in a nail salon. I just want to remind you, remind everybody, of that. I’m very worried about that.” The community demanded sources. Facts. Proof. Newsom’s statement seemed to come out of the blue, and with no response from the governor even amidst the community’s overwhelming demand for evidence, it only sounded more and more like a lie. Regardless, the negative image of salons generated by Newsom had already done it’s damage. In its wake, nail salons saw monumentally low customer volume when they reopened; shops that normally saw dozens of customers a day would be lucky if they managed to see 10 during COVID-19 times. Over the course of the three months that they were allowed to reopen, it was clear that salons—and the Vietnamese American community—were once again at the mercy of COVID-19. Now, it would be erroneous to not mention the certain victories that the Vietnamese American community achieved in the face of COVID-19. Though many were rendered financially helpless with the initial closures, this did not stop the community from voicing their upset against Newsom’s blind-eye toward nail salons. In fact, it was the community’s relentless efforts in getting their discontent through to Newsom that finally pushed him to include salons in the reopening plans of August 2020. On top of that, their collective effort to collect, produce, and donate PPE equipment to health professionals helped prove that the Vietnamese American community (and their salons) are more professional than many perceived them to be. So, while the world continues its grand battle against the proliferation of COVID-19, the Vietnamese American community and their salons anxiously stand by waiting for the moment when they can finally reopen—that is, reopen for real. In the meantime, it’s important to make sure that we do our duty in stopping the spread as well. Wear a mask in public, maintain a minimum distance of six feet from other individuals, and stay at home. Though the world is separated, stopping the spread of COVID-19 remains a collective effort, and it’s imperative we remain faithful of social distancing procedures and the health professionals fighting for our lives. |
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