Model Minority Myth'S Perverse Effects On Asian Americans

As “melting-pot” America burgeoned with immigration, Asian American popular culture developed contemporaneously. Popular culture — as John Storey discusses in What is Popular Culture? — is an “empty” term that attempts to amalgamate both commentary and caricature of ideology and culture. Asian American popular culture models itself with the conditions of its society; it scrutinizes American politics, culture, and Asian American portraiture. A material conversation within Asian American popular culture is the model minority myth. Robert Lee conceptualizes this myth as a stereotype that subordinates the Asian American minority. The model minority myth, while deceptively harmless and seemingly flattering, is actually a means of oppression and is weaponized to drive tensions between racial minorities. Lee’s “model minority” framework will be applied to dissect America’s obsession with spelling bees and Hasan Minhaj’s personal testimony of the Asian American experience in his Netflix comedy special, Homecoming King. These examples parse the model minority myth into cultural and structural systems and reveal its insidious authority on Asian American academic and social perception.

Robert Lee, in Orientals: Asian Americans in Popular Culture, studies the model minority myth. The model minority myth can be examined under the considerations of history and implications. The Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965 motivated the model minority fallacy, prioritizing the immigration of educated persons and families and abolishing an earlier quota system based on nationality. Consequently, it is found that 83% of Indians who migrated to America in this period came as professional and technical workers. Of those, 20,000 were scientists with doctorates, 40,000 were engineers, and 25,000 were doctors. A deeper analysis of these statistics reveals that those who had the means to get to America were those that had a higher education and higher paying professions, and thus, the expendable income. This phenomenon is otherwise known as human capital flight. The consequences of such a movement is what creates the basis for the “model” minority, attempting to falsely explain these structural events using culture. It confuses correlation as causation, suggesting that those migrating to America were generally well-educated and hence representative of an intergenerational culture that placed high value on education and ambition. This stereotype is propagated not only by the media but also by an Asian self-awareness. America’s obsession with the spelling bee is a phenomenon that exemplifies this dynamic.

Another component of the model minority myth relates to the property of social silence. It deems that the “model” way of being a minority is to be a silent one — to integrate into and be erased within the majority. The obedience stereotype gained a particular prevalence during the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. Contrasted against the “loudness” of Latinos and African-Americans, the Asian American social presence was viewed as “quiet” and “compliant”. In the words of a 1966 U.S. News and World Report Success Story of One Minority Group in the U.S. article, “What you find…is a story of adversity and prejudice that would shock those now complaining about the hardships endured by today’s [African Americans] / Overall, what observers are finding in America’s Chinatowns are a thrifty, law-abiding and industrious people — ambitious to make progress on their own” (9). The model minority myth expects the Asian-American to be a voice subdued, to operate through life in America as minimally as possible, and to endure the path of least social resistance. It suggests a life of silent hard work, obedience, and assimilation. Seemingly “American” values that are imbued into the idea of an American Dream have been inverted upon the Asian American. The structural force of “staying in one’s lane” is demonstrated in Hasan Minhaj’s Homecoming King.

James Maguire, in his novel American Bee, encapsulates America’s love for spelling bee culture. He describes it as, “it’s a story of pure Americana, part Norman Rockwell, part Horatio Alger. The Bee is an egalitarian gathering in which kids from every social class compete in a true meritocracy”. The spelling bee is an American symbol for meritocracy — one that is supposed to democratize the realization of the “American Dream”. However, it is one that falls short of it, doing the opposite.

Spelling bees propagate the cultural component of the model minority myth, serving as a platform where Asian American academic success is confined as a product of a broad generalization. In the article, How Do You Spell S-T-E-R-E-O-T-Y-P-E?, Shalini Shankar attests that the spelling bee systematically perpetuates the model minority myth under the guise of academic competition. Shankar references the term “tiger class”, alluding to Asian American families who prize obedience, educational strength, and success over all else. Shortly after the Immigration Act of 1965, an article observing Chinese-Americans in America in the U.S. News and World Report claimed: “Strict discipline. Even in the age of television…Chinese-American children are expected to attend school faithfully, work hard at their studies — and stay out of trouble” (6). Asian Americans, profiled for being “model” students, are pigeonholed into an academic competition in rote memorization and linguistic understanding rather than any other American physical sport. For the past couple decades, Indian Americans have made up a majority of the Scripps National Spelling Bee winners. However, it is these winners who have their accomplishment devalued under the veil of “model minority”. The Indian American winning streak has evolved as “threatening” and Indian American champions are even having their Americanness disputed as “perpetual foreigners”. Spelling bees do not do much by way of rebelling against the model minority myth, and Asian American contestants compete at risk of this double standard and self-fulfilling prophecy.

The spelling bee narrative is one that enforces a certain type of ideal of what American opportunity should look like. Spitz’s documentary, Spellbound, leads an exposé on the existence of the “model minority” in American spelling bees. Spellbound follows eight children as they prepare to contest for the title of Scripps National Spelling Bee champion. Of the eight children, the only Asian Americans presented are two Indian Americans. One, Nupur, is a studious girl from Florida. The other, Neil, is a studious boy from upper-middle class California with the addition of an intense, “tiger” father. Both Neil and Nupur exemplify the case of “model minority”-ness by their different family and cultural dynamics, yet both leave different impressions upon their audience.

It is through these two faces of the model minority myth that the audience themselves become complicit in the myth, disliking the arrogant behavior of Neil’s father but admiring Nupur’s quiet, humble hard work. Neil’s father uses a significant portion of his income to provide Neil with multiple tutors, each in a different language. Spitz also chooses to reveal that Neil’s father built a second house from the ground up — an incredible feat. However, Neil’s father keeps it empty, mentioning it in obvious hubris. In addition to paternal pressure, Neil’s grandfather also pays his hometown in India to pray for Neil’s success. It is through Neil’s relationship with his father in which an instance of “tiger parenting” is exposed and an unlikable figure of the “model minority” emerges. Neil represents a part of the model minority myth that emphasizes a deep prioritization of educational success and class progress. He personifies the extrinsic expectation for success which defines the cultural family dynamic of the “model minority”. Nupur, however, is an interesting counterpart to Neil, dichotomizing the cultural model minority myth. Nupur personifies the intrinsic behavior of the “model” minority: studying alone, competing in the spelling bee not only for her family but also for passion and self-enrichment. At the end of the 1999 Scripps National Spelling Bee, Nupur emerges as champion — a feat accomplished within the definition of this “model” motivation. Through the power of cinema, the audience is presented these two disparate faces and — by the “meritocracy” values that the spelling bee upholds — finds themselves rooting for Nupur and opposing Neil’s father. By distorting self-fulfilling prophecy, spelling bees attempt to uphold a visible double standard on Asian Americans who strive to achieve academic excellence. Hasan Minhaj of Homecoming King debates the model minority myth’s other standard: silence.

Hasan Minhaj’s award-winning Netflix comedy special, Homecoming King, is a powerful memoir on growing up in what Minhaj terms “New Brown America”. Minhaj centralizes his special on his childhood, focusing on the emotional, social impact of growing up as part of the “model minority” in America. Minhaj chooses not to directly engage with the model minority myth but instead deconstructs it via personal anecdotes. Minhaj discusses generational differences on the Asian American circumstance, in particular with the model minority strand of silence. To reinforce this, earlier in his special, Minhaj introduces a motif: “Log Kya Kahenge —‘what will people think?’” (21:31). This phrase serves as the epitome of the extent of the “model minority” myth’s ability to silence. Minhaj breaks down the social concern of the model minority myth through the contemplation of a hate crime that occurred post 9/11 and the ensuing argument he had with his father.

The night after 9/11 occurred, Minhaj’s father called a family meeting and advised the family to adhere to two rules: not to broadcast that they are Muslim and not to engage in politics. Their meeting was then interrupted by the phone: the other end threw racial slurs, demanding, “Where’s Osama?”, and then threatened to kill them. After the line clicked, Minhaj and his father heard a sharp shatter of the family’s car windows being bashed in. Minhaj recalls running out to the cul-de-sac and searching the trees and windows to catch the perpetrators of the timed attack. He then looked back at his father, who peacefully stood on the street sweeping up the broken glass. Minhaj felt a deep indignation rise and snapped at his dad — pleading for his father to show some anger or reaction. To his shock, his father dejectedly walked back to the house with glass in his feet, murmuring that “these things happen and will continue to happen — that’s the price we pay for being here”. Minhaj then realized that the tenet of the model minority myth that commands him to “stay in his lane” policed South Asian American life greater than before 9/11. Minhaj explains his difficulty in reconciling with his father’s submission, admitting, “We really are from two different generations” (28:34).

Minhaj later deconstructs the generational gap regarding the model minority conform that separates him and his father. He alludes, “when you come into this country you pay something called the ‘American Dream Tax’, like you’re going to endure some racism, and hey, if it doesn’t cost you your life then you lucked out. Pay it, there you go Uncle Sam” (28:44). Here, Minhaj uncovers the deep ideology and systemic impact of “expected silence”. His father acknowledges the safety and comfortability of silence, fulfilling the model minority myth expectation of turning the other cheek. His father continues the model minority legacy, which even Minhaj considers, “‘I don’t know who’s more right…maybe he’s right: put your head down, go be a doctor, get a house in the ‘burbs, laugh later, and let them call [you] whatever [they] want” (29:44). Log Kya Kahenge if one does not abide by the rules. Minhaj’s father entered America subjugated by its rules and social class order, with the looming threat of ostracism and legal punishment. 9/11 changed the rules for American-born Minhaj, however, who felt that him and his family’s “loyalty to America was under attack” (30:33).

Minhaj’s generation counters: “isn’t it our job to push the needle forward little by little?” (29:54). He refutes the silence trope of the “model minority” myth:

“But for me, like a lot of us, I was born here. So I actually have the audacity of equality…Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It says it right here. I’m equal” (29:00).

When Minhaj remembers the time his date to prom, a Caucasian girl, rebuffed him for a Caucasian date, he references his father’s “American Dream Tax”: “But for the most part, I actually think about it the way my dad does. ‘Oh, you couldn’t go to prom with a white girl?’…At least your spine isn’t getting shattered in the back of a police wagon, though it’s happening to my African American brothers in this country to this day. If this is the tax you have to pay for being here, …then here: take your tax” (46:48). Being rejected by a Caucasian girl for a Caucasian date was America telling Minhaj: Log Kya Kahenge — “stay in your lane”. However, Minhaj’s social priorities shift with age and modern events. He decides that to “stay in his lane” and swallow subtle racism behind the facade of “model minority” is a small price to pay than what other minorities face today. While there is an intergenerational conflict with how to go about the demanded silence of the “model” minority, Minhaj acknowledges that to some extent, he has to pick his battles.

In American society today, the model minority myth creates a false narrative that manipulates outsiders into believing that it is benign and complimentary. Yet, this is why it continues to be pervasive and oppressive in today. Whether one is being set apart for being a “better” minority or a “worse” one, they are still being set apart from the majority. The model minority myth persists, conceiving like stereotypes such as honorary citizen, perpetual foreigner, and “bamboo ceiling”. Although spelling bee competitions continue to function to prolong the model minority myth, there exists — as Hasan Minhaj proves in his comedy special — a social movement towards dispelling it. More Asian Americans today lead a social movement of attempting — and hoping — to become more non-“model”.