Our last feature of 2020 is on the story of how it all began. In March 2020, college students Tiffany Yu and Donna Lai created a publication to celebrate the Asian American community by publishing pieces that centered on identity, heritage, and culture in the midst of a tumultuous year that impacted Asian Americans on a large scale. From criticizing racist rhetoric, analyzing cultural phenomenons, to presenting authentic narratives of growing up Asian in America, they have built a platform for over 6000 readers around the globe. As Tiffany and Donna brace for what the new year will bring, they reflect on this past year.

Tiffany Yu is a senior at UC Berkeley completing her bachelor’s degrees in Public Health and Data Science, with a focus in emerging technologies in health. When she’s not juggling multiple projects at once, she enjoys reading, playing the piano, and listening to podcasts.

Donna Lai is a senior at San Jose State University studying Computer Science with a concentration in databases. She enjoys taking pictures for her food account on Instagram and spending time with friends.

Tell us about the communities you both grew up in. How did community, culture, and heritage play a role in shaping who you are?

Tiffany: Donna and I both grew up in Millbrae, a small town south of San Francisco. Millbrae is composed of a strong Asian American community, where the older generation and younger generation constantly walked side by side. It is a place where Chinese herb stores and supermarkets that have existed before I was born neighbor Asian fusion restaurants and popular boba milk tea franchises. It is a place where you can purchase a roasted duck prepared by a century’s old recipe and also purchase a Japanese souffle next door. It wasn’t until high school that I realized how much this community shaped my perspective. Living in a place where people who looked like me were unapologetic and powerful played a vital role in my assertion of my identity as a Chinese American.

As a young girl walking on the street, I discovered the power and pride of what representation meant to me, and why it was so important.

Donna: Like Tiffany said, Millbrae is a pretty small town with a predominantly Asian American community. Asian American food and culture is woven through the streets of our downtown in the form of restaurants, cafes, and stores. It feels special looking back to have been able to see how inclusive our community has been of Asian food and culture. It was only until I moved away for college, that I realized how much Millbrae’s large Cantonese community really shaped much of who I was.

What led you to founding Watercress?

Tiffany: In early 2020, I was receiving notifications on social media that many Asian Americans were becoming targets for hate crimes because of scapegoating due to the coronavirus pandemic. As reported hate crimes increased and racism became more explicit against the Asian American community, I became frustrated with the lack of awareness from mainstream media and national leaders on these attacks against my community. Donna and I had been talking about starting a podcast on Asian American issues a couple of months prior, but once it became apparent to us that there was a severe lack of content on Asian America at the start of the pandemic, we decided to create Watercress, one of the first publications on Medium dedicated to highlighting Asian American stories. I’m so proud of how far Watercress has come in one year, with over 50 pieces written by different writers from across the country, features on incredibly inspiring individuals, and features in Medium Politics, Culture, Film, and LGBTQ. This is just the beginning of what we can accomplish!

What is your hope for the future of America?

Tiffany: That’s an interesting question because if I were asked in June, I would discuss the moral reckoning the nation has to undergo in regards to race and privilege in society. If I were asked this question in August, I would’ve brought up the need for stronger climate policies and environmental management infrastructure. If you asked me this question in November, I would have discussed tackling political polarization and peaceful civic discourse. If you ask me now, I would say all of the above plus a hope that both the nation and those who live in it don’t lose optimism for a better future. There’s understandably a ton of pessimism and fear towards the future at this current moment, but I truly hope that we don’t lose sight of all that hasn’t yet happened.

Lean on each other, support one another, and retain any ounce of hope you have, because we will get through this together.

Donna: I hope that we can all show a bit of empathy to each other and try to be more open minded. It has felt pretty dire for the past year with the pandemic, racial tensions, and worsening economy. There will inevitably be greater challenges this country will face, but we have to keep pushing on. I hope that we can recognize our mistakes and pitfalls to better the conditions of all Americans.

What is your advice to young Asian Americans growing up during this time?

Donna: First, it was important for me to leave a community like Millbrae and the bubble I lived in to really understand how lucky I was. I am so much more appreciative of the community I’ve grown up in. I’d say that if you do live in a community like ours, go out and experience what others have to offer. Second, learn as much as you can about your culture and heritage! Take classes or ask your family members. I was lucky enough to attend a university that offered Asian American studies and it changed my perspective and appreciation for those who paved the way and came before me. There are many who came before us and sacrificed a lot to allow us to live comfortably the way we do now. Third, it is never too late to connect with your culture. Join a club or sport (like Dragonboating!). It was a great experience for me to participate and just meet more people outside of my immediate community.

Tiffany: When I was fifteen, on the last day I ever saw him, my math tutor and I had a conversation.

“You have to change the way they see Asian Americans,” he said.

“But why me? Why can’t it be someone else, like you?” I asked.

“It’s too late for me. I’m too old, and they’re not going to listen to me. But not you. You and your generation can change things for all of us,” he said.

I still feel the weight of those words, and for the longest time, I wasn’t sure how to ‘change things for us.’ But now I do, and here is my advice: be you, and only you. Stay true to yourself, and never let the words of others shape how you view yourself. Maintain your sense of self worth, and make it so strong that no one can possibly tear it down. Stand up for yourself, but also stand up for those in our community who don’t have the voice that you do. Be intentional about your weapon of choice when you fight.

Most of all, hold your head high, lean on your community, and always remember that no matter what, you belong and you matter.

I’m so excited to announced that my work here at Watercress is what led me to launch Modem, the first lifestyle and wellness digital media company for Asian Americans. It is my hope through Modem that we can improve mental health and wellness in the Asian American community and pave the way for the normalization of stigmatized topics and needed care.

The Founders was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Though I’ve experienced great growth in breaking out of my comfort zone, and trying to immerse myself into Vietnamese culture, it hasn’t been an easy journey. Bumps in the road, like this rejection only made me question once again my own place in the whole narrative, and why I continue to feel these feelings of cultural otherness. At the end of the day, those of mixed race identity often form and cultivate their own identity spaces. I feel that myself, and so many others have done this all of our lives. Sometimes, however, this can become exhausting, and we may feel inclined to seek acceptance from existing spaces. At the end of the day, I’ve learned that these rejections don’t define us, they’re part of a pendulum of growing pains.

Coming to face the fact that I will neither be White or Asian, that I’m both, and that I navigate this world as two distinct entities is something I still find hard to pin down. I distinctly remember taking standardized tests in elementary school, and only being able to fill in one box. Do I fill in the White or Asian one? How can I choose one when I’m both? That question always baffled me. And, it still does.

Growing Pains was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Ellen Xu and Raj Shah are the co-founders of Dew, an online platform for skincare products and trends. They are both full time university students while leading their company. We had the unique opportunity to speak with them about their experiences and Dew.

Ellen Xu is the co-founder and business and design lead at Dew. She is a junior at Binghamton University studying Business Administration and Graphic Design. She is involved in the research, business development, marketing, and design aspects of Dew. She grew up in Shanghai and New York.

Raj Shah is the co-founder and technical lead at Dew. He is a junior at Binghamton University in New York and pursuing his bachelor’s degree in Finance and Management Information Systems. He is originally from Bombay, India and moved to New York 2 years ago.

What led you to the path of founding a company?

Raj: I grew up in a business community where most of my friends hailed from families with their own businesses. I feel like that definitely played a major role in influencing my mindset and molding it into an entrepreneurial one. That being said, I feel like my community has helped me understand that entrepreneurship is all about dedication and patience and not about flashy things and instant money, that entrepreneurship is about building products that solve problems, building things that matter! I initially wanted to be an investment banker but through my experiences and activities I realized entrepreneurship was what I really wanted to do. And it actually made sense because I come from a business family. My dad and granddad were both entrepreneurs and as a kid I always loved the stories they’d tell me about their experience with business.

Ellen: Growing up in two culturally-diverse cities: Shanghai and New York, I was able to witness different ways to live life to the fullest, from being an anonymous worker, patiently transforming years into a masterpiece, to the passionate speaker in front of the spotlight, whose years of passion and experience crescendo into the height of a sublime moment. Before going into creating my own business, I wanted to pursue Marketing & Strategy in a tech company. I was really intrigued by how technology has brought so many changes to the beauty industry especially in the product development aspect and always wanted to be a part of an innovation. While searching for internships, I realized the limitations on what kind of work you will be doing as a junior employee. And I’m never a person that settles. Therefore, I decided to create my own opportunity to learn from building a product from scratch.

Tell us the story behind Dew.

Both of us have experienced fatigue from the over-saturation and the shallowness of content on mainstream social media networks. As every product on the market becomes more and more personalized, we believe that the future is drilling down into niche and highly-engaged online communities.

For an area such as skincare that requires invested research, personalized content, and even medical knowledge, we realize that the skincare information provided by the mainstream media is merely enough for skincare beginners. In fact, we see hundreds of self-organized skincare communities across multiple major social media platforms meant to solve different skin issues and share product experience or tips. These consumers usually face limited resources and poorly-designed interfaces for their specific needs.

Skincare is as important as healthcare. With the skincare industry being valued at approximately 200 Billion US Dollars by 2025 and more than 20 million invested skinthusiasts across the US, we see an opportunity to create a dedicated platform that unifies consumers, industry experts, and influencers under one roof to form a safe space to discuss skincare problems, trends, products, and routines.

What stage are you at with Dew?

We are currently building our web app and will be officially launching at the end of this year. Dew is designed to harness the power of crowdsourcing to solve problems. Therefore, we envision Dew to grow as one of the go-to skincare platforms in the next year. Our product team will be working very hard towards the vetting process of personalized content recommendation and pushing out innovative features such as posting templates and interactive product reviews in the upcoming years as well.

Our mission is to bring the right people and the right information together. In ten years, we expect Dew to be the intersection between the beauty, science, and technology innovations and become not only the participant but also the driving force to the beauty community.

Were there any mentors or role models you had when building Dew? What obstacles did you face when creating Dew?

Eva Chen, Head of Fashion Partnerships at Instagram, is a true inspiration of mine. Before going into social media marketing, I was in doubt of the actual power of networking on Instagram until I finished watching all the interviews I could find online about Eva. Her positive outlook on the power of social media networking and creative advice really convinced me. Since adopting the first social strategy on Instagram, I had truly seen the impact of Instagram networking. We are able to discover and have conversations with hundreds of influencers and professionals just with our personal accounts.

Mara Lecocq, my boss at Fishbowl, also had the biggest impact on my professional life. Through my summer internship, I was able to learn both rigor and creativity from her. I imagined hundreds of scenarios of my work life: going on a coffee run, being criticized on my work, taking notes for meetings, but never had I thought I would meet such an amazing and resourceful boss lady that offers me the opportunity to work on projects with much bigger scope and creativity. It was an honor to be working with her.

Alicia Yoon and Renee Chou transform skincare from a passion to ritual for me. They inspired me to truly explore the science behind skincare products and discover the most innovative skincare solutions in the world. Their eye for emerging opportunities and quality content is something I always admire and want to learn.

In terms of obstacles, working around the team schedule might be the hardest so far. All 17 of our team members are full-time students or full-time employees who are located in different parts of the U.S., so we are working with 17 different schedules that are constantly changing. Staying up at 12am or waking at 5am for a meeting is very common, but we were able to figure out and keep the progress moving.

What is the most rewarding part about being a startup founder?

The most rewarding part of being a startup founder is meeting new people. Ever since we started Dew, we have come in touch with so many talented individuals. It has been an amazing journey getting to know them, their ideas, their insights, and their perspectives without the boundaries of age, area, and background. Being co-founders and interacting with these people on a daily basis gives us a lot to learn, to think, and to adapt. We also get to self-reflect on our personality and management skills frequently since we are making so many decisions.

How has your culture and identity played a role in shaping your experiences and perspective?

Raj: My culture has definitely shaped the way that I think and act and it’s phenomenal how it has helped through this journey. As someone who hails from a culture that not only believes in working hard but also working smart I believe that it has enabled me to try and be more efficient in my choices and activities. This has led to a tremendous amount of time saved which I have used towards other aspects of the projects. Additionally, my experiences of working at my dad’s office as an “employee” rather than “the boss’s kid” has definitely ingrained attributes like humility, respect, dedication and diligence, values that are a must in any work environment.

Ellen: Coming from an Asian background, I’ve always been taught to have a strong work ethic and be humble. These two qualities together helped me develop a network of reliable and diligent people to join our core team. As an ENFJ, I’m very intrigued by people with different opinions or backgrounds and enjoy genuine conversations. So I tried to have an open mind and see every meeting as a learning opportunity to broaden my horizon.

What’s your advice to young aspiring startup founders?

Approach people, even when they are more experienced than you are, older than you are, or have a conflict in values. There is always a way to find common ground and develop a conversation. The key is to capture what they wanted to hear.

Since experts are a huge part of our user composition, we had to find a way to establish conversations with them and find out how we can improve our product. After multiple attempts of cold calling, emailing, and even just DMing on Instagram, we decided to try something called “The Fan Girl Strategy”. Since these professionals’ inboxes are always flooded with PR and other business emails, we decided to start with complimenting them and start a genuine conversation. This differentiated us from the rest of the crowd, and we were able to get more than 50 professional responses within a week compared to the 0 responses during the first week.

The Entrepreneurs was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Zedrick Restauro is an actor who has starred in multiple TV shows, commercials, and films. His past roles have included How To Get Away With Murder, Teen Wolf, and Modern Family. We had the unique opportunity to speak with Zedrick about his experiences as an Asian American actor and how culture and heritage have shaped his work.

Tell us about the community you grew up in. What led you to your path as an actor?

I grew up in Biñan, Philippines, about an hour south of Manila. My neighborhood was pretty suburban, and since Filipino culture is very strong when it comes to community, my neighborhood felt like a little small town. Everyone knew everyone and what everyone was up to, haha! But I loved it, my friends lived across the street, and growing up in the 90’s you could just go and play outside, and the grown-ups didn’t care as long we were back home by dinner.

My path as an actor didn’t really materialize until I was 17. Having just moved to Vancouver, Canada, I sort of stumbled into it. A girl I had a crush on told me she was auditioning for the school play, to which I immediately replied that I was too! It helped that a couple other classmates I had started talking to were auditioning as well, and since I was the new kid in my last year of high school, I needed friends. So it was following my crush and the need of friends that inadvertently led me to my path as an actor. That was when I caught the acting bug and have been sick ever since.

What was your favorite project that you were a part of? Why?

I’m going to give you two answers, one for theater and one for film. My favorite theater project was a production of the comedy Beyond Therapy by Christopher Durang, where I played the lead role of Bruce. My favorite film project was this coming-of-age feature film Hickey from writer/director Alex Grossman playing one of the leads, Jeremy. These are my favorite projects because they’re the largest roles I’ve played so far. Most of my career thus far is being a guest on TV shows in small roles, so the larger, meatier roles are still quite rare for me. Also the characters I played in these projects weren’t stereotypical Asian roles and I loved that. They were three-dimensional characters whose race or ethnicity was one of many factors that made up who they were, instead of their sole defining factor as we’ve seen in many unfortunate stereotypical portrayals of Asians in film and TV. This has finally begun to change within the last few years as representation has gotten better, but there’s still a ton of work that needs to be done.

In your opinion, what’s the best part about being a performer?

It’s connecting with others through our shared humanity. Acting allows the audience to see themselves in me, and I love that process as a performer. It’s holding up a mirror to the audience telling them this is “who you are,” and whether that makes them laugh, or cry, or whatever in between, they feel that way because they see specific aspects of themselves in my performance. And that human connection between performer and audience is the absolute best part, it’s incredibly rewarding, and I’m so, so grateful I get to do it.

What has been a challenge you have faced and how did you overcome it?

The continuous rejection that is just the norm in this career, has definitely been the number one challenge. It’s consistent and unrelenting. And when I have bad days, the weight of it can be difficult to bear. I overcome it by leaning on my friends, my community of actors.

Because they go through it too and they understand, and reminding myself that I’m not alone helps a ton. I also overcome it by reminding myself that it isn’t personal. A role I don’t get was a decision made that did not go in my direction, and that’s it. That really shouldn’t even be called rejection, because the word rejection implies something personal, as if a direct action against you has been purposefully made, and that is just not what happens at all. It’s a matter of perspective because yes, even though an actor’s life is a constant influx of rejection, it is equally a constant influx of so much opportunity. Each audition is a chance to play, a chance to be an actor and do what I love. So I make it a point to be grateful for each opportunity, and the more I’m in the practice of being grateful, the easier it gets to brush off rejection, and move onwards.

How has culture and identity played a role in shaping your perspective and work?

I’m big on creating backstory for my characters, so even though not all my characters directly acknowledge or address out loud being Filipino, being Asian American or being an immigrant, I incorporate those identities into every character I play. So that means characters with a history of being othered, feeling like an outsider, feeling like they don’t belong. But also characters who have a strong sense of purpose, a strong kinship with their community, and a unique perspective on the American dream. My culture and my identity brings a particular depth to my artistry, and even though it isn’t readily apparent or obvious in all the characters I play, it’s in the work nonetheless. I like to think that’s why I keep getting cast, because I embrace my culture and identity, and that kind of specificity bleeds into other aspects of my work, which I hope improves its quality.

To aspiring Asian American actors and actresses, what is your advice to them?

Own your identity, embrace your culture, and don’t hold back. As actors, sometimes we forget that we are fellow filmmakers, creatives, and storytellers in our own right. And right now, the specificity of who you are as Asian Americans, is what is needed. There is a demand for our stories and the doors are finally starting to open for us to be able to tell these stories ourselves, on our own terms. So keep acting, and continue honing your craft, because there are a ton of things about this career that are out of our control, but the quality and consistency of your craft, are very much in your control. Godspeed, and I’ll see you on set.

The Performer was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Netflix’s Umbrella Academy is an absolute gem: the series revolves around a dysfunctional superhero family, the impending end of the world, and the long term impacts of abuse and neglect. But what I found the most fascinating about this show was its portrayal of its only Asian American hero, Ben. Whether intentional or not, Ben and his character arc represent the necessary, yet unacknowledged, contributions of Asian Americans in society.

WARNING — Seasons 1 and 2 Spoilers Ahead!

Because Ben died when he was a teenager, Ben’s childhood was not demonstrated as vital to his character development unlike the other Hargreeves. This lack of character background and little screen time immediately places Ben on unequal footing with his other superpowered adoptive siblings. It is made clear at the beginning of Season 1 that Ben is a supporting character for Klaus’ development, not one of the heroes who will help save the world. The continual portrayal of Asian Americans as side characters rather than protagonists in film and media, as well as their lack of coverage in the media, is so pervasive in society that although disappointed, I was not shocked to see this type of portrayal in Ben.

The only person Ben can communicate with is Klaus, so the only times we see Ben on screen is when Klaus’s story is being displayed. There’s a power imbalance, namely Ben is able to see everyone, but no one can see Ben except Klaus. On more than one occasion, we have seen the emotional and physical labor Ben completes for Klaus, from providing Klaus strategies on how to escape danger from Cha Cha and Hazel to assisting Klaus in becoming an influential cult leader in the 1960’s. Despite the work that Ben has done for Klaus, he is never acknowledged for the work he does in helping his brother and saving his other siblings. In fact, Klaus often contributes to the erasure of Ben’s presence, either by denying Ben’s existence or taking credit for Ben’s pulling Diego out of a crumbling building to telling his siblings that “ghosts can’t time travel.” Yet there is a strong bond between these two brothers, and when Klaus allows Ben to use his body to interact with Jill, it is evident that though Klaus may not admit it, he is incredibly grateful to have Ben.

Ben’s last words were for Klaus: he revealed that the reason why he stayed with Klaus rather than leaving was not because of Klaus’s attempts of scaring him from entering Heaven when they were children. Upon hearing this, Klaus is able to forgive himself and move on. Ben’s last act on Earth was spent giving reassurance and love to his brother. Of all of the Hargreeves, Ben is the only one who can give Klaus the words he didn’t know he needed to hear, demonstrating just how pivotal his role was in helping Klaus come to terms with his powers and identity.

Finally, Ben is ultimately the one who prevents the apocalypse in 1963 by talking to Vanya and reminding her who she is. It’s a drastic contrast from the first season, in which Vanya’s brothers were all willing to use force and violence to stop her from ending the world. Ben uses compassion to speak to Vanya and is able to significantly chip at Vanya’s self loathing and insecurities. Ben sacrifices himself in order to save Vanya, and it is a bittersweet ending because despite his invisibility throughout the entire show to the other characters, it is clear that he has touched the lives and shaped the futures of the Hargreeves. Like Ben, Asian Americans are vital contributors to the economy, culture, and society whose contributions often go unnoticed and ignored because of underrepresentation and racism.

What’s Next For Ben?

When the Hargreeves make it back to 2019 at the end of Season 2, we see a warped future with an emo Ben taking center stage. It begs the question: will the new Sparrow Academy Ben continue this metaphor? Or will Umbrella Academy take the plunge and give us a new kind of Asian American hero the world has never seen?

Ben Hargreeves: A Metaphor for Asian American Invisibility was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Sydney Lotuaco is a multi-talented icon who is only just getting started. In addition to starring as one of the main contestants on season 23 of The Bachelor, she is a performer, fitness trainer, model, podcast host, and ex-NBA dancer. We had the opportunity to speak with Sydney about her experiences growing up, her thoughts on The Bachelor, and what she has been up to since. Read on to hear Sydney’s story!

You moved from Virginia to New York City for college, stayed there for a while, and then moved to California! Can you tell us a how your community has shaped you into the person you are today and what it was like moving from the East Coast to the West Coast?

I was born in Virginia and all of my moves are based around my career path — and that was dancing! So I started in Virginia dancing at about age three, and then when I started looking around for colleges, I had to audition for different schools.

So I auditioned for a school in North Carolina, a few in New York City, and a couple of other places as well, just to kind of get a feel. Finally, I got into a school in New York and went there for school.

So my community, growing up was, I went to high school and I had friends there but a lot of my community was based around the fact that I spent so much time at dance. So I had dances around me at all times. So generally my community has been artists and people like of all different ages, but the focus was always around the talent and rehearsing.

So I feel like I’ve always been around very hardworking individuals and then going to college in New York, I spent most of my days in class. My morning classes were all dance classes, and then we had regular school classes in the afternoon, and later, we’d have rehearsals at night.

So with that being our schedule for all of the dancers, we all just hung out with each other. We were running from class to class carrying leotards and we had a very different college experience. So I just kind of like was drawn to the dancers, but also in college, I was an RA. So I had that community as well. So again, like very hard-working, dedicated individuals that just tried to fit as much as they could. I just recently moved to California this past year, because I had been in New York for 10 years. I think I had built a strong friendship and stuff. So that was a hard thing for me to leave because I had such a strong core group of friends in New York and I had a good routine. It was more like New York itself was not doing it for me anymore. It was bogging me down and I just needed a change in my life to see what else was out there. So, which is why I decided to move to LA.

Right now, I’m still working on building my community there. I have some friends what was nice to me is that I had, as far as work goes the same job and in New York as I as I didn’t get the same agents.

So I at least had a base of people that I knew. And just like a strong yeah like base for me to hop over but I’m still figuring out my niche within LA.

What inspired you to start dancing and how has dancing influenced your life?

It’s been a major influence. I mean, I was inspired to start dancing when I started at three and my parents just wanted something for me to do. And I remember when I was really little, I would just dance around the house. They would put Barney on and I would jump on the table and dance or go to my parents’ room and dance around like that. So it was always a part of me.

When I was growing up, all my friends in school would be able to go play outside when I had to go dance. And I was like, “I want to just play!” So it was definitely brought like a strong friendship of people that want to dance, but also I had to sacrifice a lot of things and pick and choose like what I would do. So while it came with a lot of sacrifices, it brought a lot of great stuff throughout my life.

You’re so busy doing so many things — you’re a dancer, fitness instructor, model. What has been the greatest challenge you faced and how did you overcome it?

With the career path I chose, it’s definitely not a traditional one. I was always really good at school which was helpful for me being so busy that I was already had that kind of mindset. Honestly, it almost would have been easier for me just to go and do something like a nine to five job or something “normal”, but because I’ve always liked to challenge and I spent my whole life dancing. I didn’t want to just give it up right then. So I chose the harder choice and with being in the arts or anything like that.

It’s definitely not consistent and we can see that right now with COVID happening in the world. It’s very hard for the arts community and entertainment industry because there’s not a lot of jobs right now and all the ways we would normally do things like gathering in groups and producing art together, we can’t really do.

The first time I went through an audition process, I made it to the very end, and they were hiring a girl. I made it to the last day and I got cut and I was devastated. It was a week-long process of auditioning and so, when you’re auditioning for things, it’s hard to get your hopes up and believe that you actually got the job.

I was devastated and so it took me a little bit of time to build myself back up. But then, luckily, I reached out to the coach to get feedback because I decided I wasn’t going to quit. I picked myself back up and I decided the best way to go about it was to get the feedback that I needed to apply it to the next thing, or next audition.

I got really lucky and the girl that had been hired for the team had to move away because her husband was moving to a different state. So instead of giving me feedback, the coach ended up hiring me that day. It worked out in the end, but it was a full-circle moment for me.

What was it like being on The Bachelor, what’re the greatest things you’ve learned from being on The Bachelor? Why was Colton a bad kisser?

The whole experience of The Bachelor definitely changed my life. I feel like it pushed me in a lot of ways because I had been so career-focused my whole life, and this was the first time that I was ever really focusing on the dating aspect.

So it definitely took me out of my comfort zone, from obviously being on TV. Being in front of cameras while trying to do that as well, was not easy.

But overall, I had a great time! I met a lot of really awesome people and it made me grow in a lot of ways. I didn’t find my relationship on the show, but in a way, going on the show led me to my current relationship because we met through Instagram and he knew me since he watched the show. So, kind of a weird way that we got there!

Is Colton a bad kisser — it was just a matter of lack of chemistry. I could just tell he was really not into me and there was really never anything behind the kisses that we had. So, I mean, that’s not fun when you’re kissing someone you can tell that they don’t want to give you if that makes sense. Yeah, he could have been a little bit more effort into it. But, you know, he just wasn’t into it. So that’s fine.

How has being an Asian American woman affected you and your perspective? And do you find that there’s much representation, especially in the industries that you work in?

I’m half white and I’m half Asian. So I’m half Filipino. I grew up in a predominantly white area. I was one of two Filipino girls in my group of friends and every everyone else’s life so growing up I identified in a weird way as a white girl, even though I knew I look different and I just kind of go along with the jokes and things like that. I’ve been like a little bit of like an outsider within your group, but it was never a hostile environment.

There are two times where I felt like I was representing my race. Going to auditions, I would be typecast as an Asian person so they would be hiring Asian people and you look around the room and every single person in the room is Asian.

So it was like, “Oh, I’m representing a character or type here — this is the role they’re looking for, they’re hiring for.”

So that’s an interesting feeling, knowing that you’re there, just for a “race”. And then when I went to The Bachelor was when I really, really felt it because there were two Asian girls on my season and one of the other Asian girls was kicked off the show on the first night. So I was like, “Oh, I’m here to represent an Asian American for however long I’m here. Got it.”

So it’s interesting, and I feel like they’re doing better about this now, but the bachelor franchise in the past has not been great about representing people of color and because of that.

I feel like I was definitely under-represented within the show, like I definitely was there to play a role. A lot of my time on TV wasn’t featured and it wasn’t that often you saw me. I was there as like background or like to comment on things. But I never was the main character in anything. And that can do with a lot of factors, but I think race definitely had something to do with that.

Just looking around the room and knowing that you are a minority within a situation is when I really noticed it. Whereas before, I didn’t really notice that difference. It was never hostile, it’s just an interesting thing to notice being in part of a large group of people and being like, “Oh, I’m this specific person only and everyone else’s a different person.”

To young Asian Americans, what would be your advice to them?

There needs to be more people that look like us in whatever industry that is and don’t be afraid. If you look around the room and you’re the only person that looks like you, own that and make sure that you represent yourself well. Essentially, don’t be afraid to be the only person in a room that looks like you. Don’t let it destroy you or push you back from doing the things that you want. Be the first person that’s going to do it or be that person that you needed to see on TV or in that role. Don’t be afraid to represent that within whatever job or role that you’re playing!

Thanks to Sydney for such a great interview! Follow her on Instagram, Twitter, or check out her website for more info!

The Dancer was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

What does a Muslim look like? What does it mean to be Muslim in the United States? As with any global community, the Muslim community is broad and expansive. It consists of a wide range of different people, all with different geographical backgrounds and individual identities. However, stereotyping in mainstream media diminishes the expansive diversity central to the Muslim community, as described in the past article.

There is no single answer to the question, “What does a Muslim look like?”, yet very few filmmakers actually portray Muslims in a nuanced and unique way. The first step towards reducing stereotypes’ influence is the acknowledgement that there is no single Muslim or Muslim American story — Muslims, like members of any other community, are unique and their stories should transcend beyond caricatures in film and television.

The Riz Test

This article examines positive examples of Muslim representation in film and television through the lens of the Riz Test, demonstrating how positive depictions of Muslims can counter stereotyping in mainstream media.

Stereotype #1 and 2: Hollywood’s Association of Islam with Terrorism and Anger

Ms. Marvel (2013-present)

Decades ago, a Muslim superhero would have been nearly impossible to find in Western mainstream media. Perhaps one of the most deep-rooted and prevalent stereotypes against Muslims, the association of Islam with terrorism and anger continues to persist. However, characters such as Kamala Khan of Ms. Marvel subvert this stereotype by serving as heroes who protect the community, not villains.

Created in 2013, the Ms. Marvel comic series features Marvel Comics’ first Muslim character as the focus of her own comic book. The series centers on a Pakistani-American superhero named Kamala Khan (alias Ms. Marvel) who works to keep New Jersey safe from harm. The beauty of the series is that Kamala Khan is just an ordinary teenager living in Jersey City, aside from her superhero status. Kamala’s Muslim identity is neither rendered a mere afterthought nor portrayed as a burden. Rather, her faith and culture are embedded in her journey as a superhero without any association of terrorism or irrational anger.

Marvel Studios recently announced the premiere of a live-action Ms. Marvel series in 2022 and, given Marvel Comics’ undeniable popularity, Kamala Khan’s on-screen presence has the potential to promote positive Muslim representation in a groundbreaking way. Though the stereotypical depiction of Muslims as terrorists remains prevalent in mainstream media, the newfound attention surrounding Ms. Marvel represents a significant step towards better representation.

Stereotype #3: The Depiction of Muslims as Anti-Modern

Grey’s Anatomy (2017–2019)

In 2017, medical drama Grey’s Anatomy added another set of surgical interns to their show’s cast. Unlike previous seasons, however, this new class of interns featured a hijabi woman named Dr. Dahlia Qadri (played by Sophia Taylor Ali). Bold and empathetic, Dr. Qadri captured the hearts of both Muslims and non-Muslims alike, with her nuanced characterization emphasizing that Muslims have a place in modern society.

For three seasons, Dr. Qadri consistently worked to help patients and placed great emphasis on connecting with them. Dr. Qadri’s strong sense of empathy was especially evident when she chose to remove her hijab in order to stop a patient from bleeding out and save their life. In response to surprise about the removal of her hijab, Dr. Qadri commented that her hijab is “a symbol of faith, but faith is about service and compassion”, capturing the true essence of what it means to be a Muslim.

During her residency, Dr. Qadri is dismissed from the hospital after standing up to the Chief of Surgery and expressing her frustration about a mentor of hers being fired. Though it is unfortunate that such a powerful Muslim character had to leave the show, her exit is characterized by a sense of righteousness and strength that is largely unprecedented for Muslim characters in film and television.

Dr. Qadri’s ambition and passion for medicine directly counters misconceptions about Muslims being culturally backwards or anti-modern. Her dedication to serving others and knack for science set her apart from Muslim stereotypes, making her character a refreshingly positive role model for all.

Stereotype #4: A Threat on Western Lifestyle

Hasan Minhaj

From his stand-up comedy special to Patriot Act, Hasan Minhaj effectively embeds his Muslim identity and passion for politics into his comedy, raising awareness for important social justice issues in an accessible way. Minhaj’s role in Patriot Act especially opposes the stereotype of Muslims being a threat to a Western way of life, as he explores political and cultural topics at the core of Western culture without concealing his Muslim identity.

Though Minhaj does not shy away from sharing his experience as a Muslim American, his comedy routines are not solely limited to his struggle with discrimination or stereotyping. Minhaj expands his comedy beyond being solely about his South Asian heritage by analyzing broader issues such as mental health, coronavirus, and civil rights in Patriot Act.

Minhaj’s comedy is the perfect blend of his own South Asian, Muslim identity and social justice issues that apply to everyone, proving that being Muslim and embracing Western culture are not mutually exclusive.

Stereotype #5: Misogyny and Muslim Masculinity

Ramy (2019-present)

In contrast to depictions of Muslim men as terrorists or misogynists that overwhelmingly dominate mainstream media, A24’s Ramy features a male protagonist that is introspective and relies on his faith as a means for improvement, even when his efforts initially prove to be unsuccessful. Led by writer and actor Ramy Youssef, Ramy effectively deconstructs notions of toxic masculinity by giving the audience a close look at a Muslim-American’s emotional experiences in a raw and complex way that is seldom done with Muslim characters in Hollywood.

Some criticize Ramy for its imperfect protagonist; however, Ramy’s confusion about his identity creates a humanizing depiction that strongly opposes stereotypes typically found in mainstream media. The audience may quickly become frustrated with how self-serving and ignorant Ramy can be, but Ramy Youssef points out, “We don’t want this work to be instructional…it’s about asking questions.” Though witnessing Ramy make dozens of mistakes can be frustrating at times, ultimately, the complexities of his journey are refreshing compared to the one-dimensional characterization typically afforded to Muslims on-screen.

In a 2019 interview, Youssef explains, “What this show looks at is what does it mean to be a man? …He has this idea of what it’s like from his uncle and from his father. There are all these different ideas of how you should be and how you should behave.” Ramy’s sensitivity and introspection draw a sharp contrast to common depictions of Muslim men as misogynistic, as he vents to his friends about his worries and actively seeks ways to grow from his mistakes. By presenting a variety of distinct perspectives within the Muslim community, Ramy breaks down the stereotypes and assumptions of the audience through its three-dimensional, introspective portrayal.

In contrast to The Big Sick, Ramy delves into the complexities of its Muslim characters as opposed to relegating them to mere caricatures. Ramy’s sister faces frustrations produced by double standards and fetishization; his father struggles with his place in a post-9/11 world; his uncle faces internal conflict regarding his queer identity; and his mother deals with the anxiety sparked by the citizenship process. Each of these characters have unique views on faith, politics, and their identity. In Season 2, the show also explores the unique struggles faced by black Muslims, adding further complexity to the show’s depiction.

Through its acknowledgement of the diversity of Muslims, Ramy is able to take a bold stance against stereotypes in the media and depict Muslim male sensitivity in a noteworthy way, allowing it to recently become the first Muslim American sitcom to be nominated for an Emmy.

Stereotype #6: The “Oppressed Muslim Woman”

The Bold Type (2017–2020)

The Bold Type’s portrayal of hijabi women draws a sharp contrast to that of Elité. As opposed to the hijab being painted as a sign of oppression, The Bold Type characterizes a Muslim woman’s decision to wear a hijab as a choice.

In preparing for her role as Adena, Actress Nikohl Boosheri reflected, “…I thought, ‘Okay, then with this character, it has to be more about her freedom to choose, her freedom to express herself how she pleases and how she pleases that day.’” Boosheri’s core understanding of a woman’s choice to wear a hijab results in a much more accurate and sensitive portrayal of Muslim women compared to Nadia in Elité.

However, as co-star Aisha Dee recently pointed out, The Bold Type is not exempt of problems in terms of representation. Dee revealed that “there have never been any queer Black or Muslim writers in the room”, calling The Bold Type’s diversity into question.

Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019)

Last summer, Spider-Man: Far From Home was praised for its exciting special effects and compelling character development, but what truly makes it striking was the diversity of its cast. Particularly, one of Peter Parker’s classmates in the film was the first hijab wearing character in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), played by actress Zoha Rahman.

Though the MCU previously promoted Islamophobic notions in the Iron Man trilogy, their inclusion of characters such as Rahman’s and Kamala Khan from the Ms. Marvel comics (and future series) reveals a new era for the studio characterized by diversity and cultural acceptance.

Rahman shared, “They [Marvel Studios] are realizing that the climate is changing around them and they have to cater to it…This is the world that we live in and this is our audience, and we want all our audience members to feel included.” Unnecessary attention is never brought to Rahman’s character: just like any other student, she embarks on an exciting summer trip and enjoys all of the sights that Europe has to offer.

Rahman may have had a relatively minor role in Spider-Man: Far From Home, but the impact of seeing a Muslim student on-screen with everyone’s favorite webslinger remains far from small.

Looking to the Future

“What we are advocating for is human portrayals of Muslims on film and TV — and that comes with all the wonderful nuances of being flawed characters and complex characters, with personality flaws and traits that everyone has.” -Shaf Choudry, co-founder of the Riz Test

It is promising that Hollywood seems to be more open to portraying three-dimensional Muslim characters, however, even the best examples of Muslim representation in mainstream media are not yet perfect.

Overall, the most effective way of improving Muslim representation would be to include more Muslims in the production of films and television shows. For example, the producers of the live-action Aladdin and Counterpart actress Betty Gabriel consulted the Muslim Public Affairs Council (MPAC) to ensure that their depiction of Muslims was accurate. Having more Muslims on board would allow for more sensitive portrayals of Muslims as opposed to continuing to perpetuate stereotypes.

Given that many of the better examples of Muslim representation’s time frames overlap with some of the worser examples, it would be rudimentary to claim that the depiction of Muslims in mainstream media has improved over time. Hollywood still has a long way to go. But complex characters like those featured in pieces such as Ramy and Ms. Marvel provide hope for the future of Muslim representation in film and television.

Film and television can be a powerful and entertaining way to learn about different cultures, making accurate representation particularly crucial in the 21st century.

Reclaiming the Narrative: Countering Stereotypes against Muslims in Mainstream Media was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Why Representation Matters

Scholar Jack G. Shaheen reflects, “Indeed, there are some bad Arabs and Muslims out there — but that goes for people of all races and religions. No one group has a monopoly on the good and innocent.” However, the oversaturation of Arab and Muslim antagonists in the media creates the illusion that the small minority of bad Arabs and Muslims are representative of the whole community. Shaheen comments that “this stereotype is so prevalent, so powerful, that people internalize it and, due to the absence of positive Arab and Muslim images in popular culture, cannot separate the reel from the real.”

Though stereotypes in the media may seem harmless, they have unignorable effects on how minorities are perceived. The ISPU found that only 38% of Americans know someone who is Muslim — therefore, the other 62% of individuals’ perceptions of Muslims are wholly defined by what they see on-screen, with negative stereotypes dominating their view of Islam.

Additionally, misconceptions in the media also have detrimental effects on the minorities being stereotyped. A report on black men conducted by The Opportunity Agenda revealed, “Negative media stereotypes (thugs, criminals, fools, and the disadvantaged) are demoralizing and reduce self-esteem and expectations. Dealing with negative expectations may also create stress and drain cognitive resources in some contexts — leading to the lowered performance associated with ‘stereotype threat.’”

Film and television may be easily brushed off as mere entertainment, but the truth is, what we watch shapes our perceptions of the world in a monumental way. Evidently, mainstream media can be a pivotal point to start in challenging the vilification of Muslims, both in fiction and reality.

The Riz Test

In 2017, actor and musician Riz Ahmed gave a landmark speech on representation and stereotyping in film and television to the UK’s House of Commons. His powerful words drove Shaf Choudry and Sadia Habib to develop “The Riz Test”. Similar to the Bechdel Test, the Riz Test sets certain standards for the depiction of Muslims in the media, calling for better representation in lieu of stereotyping.

This article examines the evolution of Muslim representation in film and television through the lens of the Riz Test, featuring examples that fail to meet its criteria in order to emphasize the importance of accurate representation in mainstream media.

Stereotype #1 and 2: Hollywood’s Association of Islam with Terrorism and Anger

The Bodyguard (2018-present)

In reflecting on The Bodyguard, Shaf Choudry (co-founder of the Riz Test) determined, “Not only does it [The Bodyguard] fail the Riz Test, but it fails all five criteria of the Riz Test within the first 12 minutes of the first episode, which is horrendous.”

Most critics of The Bodyguard focus on the characterization of a hijabi woman named Nadia. She is first introduced as wearing a suicide bomb vest, conforming to the “oppressed Muslim woman” stereotype. However, in a later episode, Nadia reveals that she played a much bigger role in the bombings than the protagonist had thought, commenting, “I am an engineer. I am a jihadi.” The writers of The Bodyguard may have negated the “oppressed Muslim woman” stereotype by revealing that the seemingly vulnerable Nadia is actually a terrorist, but this plot twist is far from empowering and does not deserve any praise. In fact, this shift carries the narrow-minded, dangerous implication that Muslims are inevitably linked to terrorism and violence. The Bodyguard puts Muslims in a box, switching one detrimental stereotype out for another.

Some may dismiss the stereotypes central to The Bodyguard’s narrative as harmless, but their influence on audience members’ perception of Islam is undeniable. Choudry added, “there’s been incidents in London where women wearing the hijab, the head scarf, on public transport have been shouted at [by people who] said: ‘Oh, are you Nadia? Do you have a bomb?’”, demonstrating viewers’ false assumption that Muslim characters on-screen are representative of all Muslims.

An over-saturation of stereotypes in the media has concrete effects that cannot be dismissed: the more stereotypes appear on-screen instead of complex depictions of Muslims, the harder it becomes for the audience to distinguish between fiction and reality.

Stereotype #3: The Depiction of Muslims as Anti-Modern

The Big Sick (2017)

At first glance, a Muslim protagonist in a rom-com like The Big Sick appears refreshing in contrast to the repeated depictions of Muslims as films’ violent antagonists. Though the premise of The Big Sick is undoubtedly progressive compared to many other films centered on Muslims, it creates an unnecessary binary. In forcing its protagonist to pick between either an American or Pakistani identity, the film furthers the assumption that modernity can only be acquired for Muslims through assimilation, which is inherently erroneous.

The film’s flaw is not the depiction of Kumail as a secular Muslim without a strong connection to heritage; rather, The Big Sick’s main fault is that the Muslim characters in the film are not given the same depth as the white characters. Though Kumail is not necessarily portrayed as “superstitious, culturally backwards or anti-modern”, his distancing from his family and culture furthers the stereotypical notion that Muslim families are anti-modern and deprives the film’s Muslim characters of any range. Throughout the entire film, Kumail’s family solely represents the cultural pressure he feels to accept an arranged marriage, with the value of his heritage left largely unexplored. The characterization of Kumail’s love interest’s family is treated with much more nuance than Kumail’s, relegating them to mere caricatures with no real place in the narrative.

Though the South Asian characters lacked depth throughout most of film, a key scene opposes the anti-modern stereotype associated with Muslims. In the scene, Kumail’s father calls his son out, commenting, “The American dream is not about yourself. You’re being selfish to Khadija, selfish to this girl.” However, the same treatment is not provided for the female characters, reinforcing writer Aditi Natasha Kini’s claim that, “…too often, Hollywood’s depictions of brown men amount to an erasure of brown women.” From Kumail’s mother to the Pakistani women he meets, the Muslim women in The Big Sick are one-dimensional and are deprived of any real complexity.

Though The Big Sick features heartfelt moments and profoundly depicts an interracial relationship, it is not wholly exempt of stereotypes. A Pakistani-led rom-com offers hope for Muslims being featured in a variety of genres, but the film is clouded by the wildly inaccurate belief that modernity and Islam cannot coexist in the United States.

Stereotype #4: A Threat on Western Lifestyle

Homeland (2011–2020)

Though well-received by critics as a compelling series, Homeland fundamentally promotes the idea that all Muslims are dangerous, no matter how “modern” they may seem on the outside.

This message was especially central to the characterization of Roya Hammad, a confident and successful reporter. Hammad is later revealed to have ties to a violent terrorist. Similar to The Bodyguard, this shift in characterization confines Muslims to an extremist narrative, falsely implying that any Muslim may be involved in terrorism — no matter how embedded in Western culture they may be.

Laila Al-Arian points out that Homeland “demonstrated ad nauseam that anyone marked as ‘Muslim’ by race or creed can never be trusted”, capturing the wider implications of the show’s Islamophobic message. For the 62% of Americans who do not know someone who is Muslim, mainstream media like Homeland promote misinterpretations of Islam and skepticism of Muslims’ true intentions.

Stereotype #5: Misogyny and Muslim Masculinity

Islam is derived from the Arabic root word salam, which means “peace”. But despite Islam’s emphasis on peace, the characterization of Muslim men in mainstream media is bombarded by notions of misogyny, promoting further misconceptions about Islamic teachings and the message of the Quran. Many films and TV shows fail to distinguish between what Islam promotes and what some Middle Eastern governments enforce. As a result, the mainstream media creates and perpetuates a false association of gender inequality with Islam itself when cultural, patriarchal practices are actually to blame.

In a 2017 study, Stanford University post-doctoral fellow Rochelle Terman wrote, “The results suggest that U.S. news media propagate the perception that Muslims are distinctly sexist, which in turn may shape public attitudes towards Muslims as well as policies that involve Muslims at home and abroad.” Terman also suggests the presence of confirmation bias affecting the portrayal of Muslim women, as “Muslim women (i.e. women from Muslim and/or Middle Eastern societies) are more likely to appear in the U.S. press if they live in societies with poor records of women’s rights, while non-Muslim women are more likely to appear if their rights are respected.”

The mainstream media’s narrow emphasis on gender discrimination among Muslims has disadvantageous consequences, including less coverage of 1) gender inequality in non-Muslim communities and 2) other issues affecting Muslim societies. Misconceptions about Islam, however, can be largely reduced if studios consult Muslim organizations and work with Muslim writers to craft nuanced characters instead of caricatures.

Stereotype #6: The “Oppressed Muslim Woman”

Elité (2018-present)

One may be quick to assume that movies and TV shows featuring Islamophobic stereotypes are mere relics by now. But shows like Elité reveal that there is still room for improvement in the area of Muslim representation.

Released in 2018, Spanish drama Elité continues to receive tremendous attention from Netflix viewers around the globe, with 20 million households streaming the show. Though it features complex character arcs, Elité’s treatment of Nadia Shanaa (played by Mina El Hammani) is widely criticized.

Compared to the wealthier students at her school, Nadia feels like an outsider: in addition to her spot at the school being earned through a scholarship, she is the only student who wears a hijab. At one point in the series, her school demands that she removes her hijab, which is reminiscent of many policies enacted in Europe over the past decade. In order to remain a student, Nadia ceases wearing her hijab on campus.

Though Nadia affirms that wearing a hijab is her choice, Elité glorifies her removal of her hijab in Season 2, characterizing it as a moment of liberation for her. Nadia appears in a nightclub without her hijab, capturing the romantic attention of her classmates. Through this scene, Elité antagonizes the choice to wear a hijab, demonstrating it to be a symbol of oppression.

In reality, many Muslim women wear a hijab out of personal choice. According to a survey conducted by the ISPU in 2018, “99 percent of respondents indicated personal reasons for wearing hijab, such as piety or the desire to be identified as Muslim.”

Elité characterizes the hijab as a burden on Muslim women, needlessly skewing viewers’ perception of hijabi women in an unconstructive and inaccurate way.

Conclusion

An over-saturation of negative stereotypes in film and television creates a false illusion of what Islam truly represents. As writer Amanda Taub points out,

“Middle Eastern and Muslim actors are rarely if ever cast to play romantic leads, or brilliant scientists, or high school mean girls, or varsity football heroes or good wives or bad husbands. They’re stuck reading for one- dimensional terrorist roles over and over again. That’s not just offensive, it’s an absurd misrepresentation of American life.”

Despite Islam being a religion that promotes peace, many examples of mainstream media reduce the expansive, unique community of Muslims to a stereotype characterized by extremism and cultural backwardness.

To read about positive examples of Muslim representation in mainstream media, check out Part 2!

Reclaiming the Narrative: Muslim Stereotyping in Mainstream Media was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The Wave, Harvard’s first pan-Asian literary and arts magazine, was launched during a period of great contention for Asians in America. Rises in racism and xenophobia following the coronavirus pandemic motivated Asian Harvard students to celebrate intersectional identity and culture through art. We had the opportunity to speak with the founders of The Wave on their experiences with the magazine and the complexities of Asian American identity.

Jerrica Li is the founder and president of The Wave. She is from Longmeadow, Massachusetts and is a rising senior at Harvard studying Comparative Literature.

Vanessa Hu is the vice president and web designer of The Wave. She is from Livingston, NJ and is a rising sophomore at Harvard planning to study Computer Science and Linguistics.

Jason Zhou is the Art Editor of The Wave. He is from St. Louis, MO, and is a rising sophomore at Harvard studying statistics.

What is The Wave?

Jerrica: The Wave is an Asian Anglophone magazine, but more than that it is an open, inclusive space for artists and creatives of every kind to feel like they can explore, experiment, and be heard.

What led to the creation of The Wave?

Jerrica: I don’t think it was anything concrete. But maybe it was a feeling, like waking up and realizing a place like the Wave just didn’t exist on campus. And it should.

Vanessa: As an Asian-American, I have always felt a sort of in-between-ness: society’s tenuous acceptance of model minorities like me, contingent on my success and my silence. We wanted to help uplift the voices of people like us in a world that does not readily acknowledge or listen to our narratives.

What were some obstacles you faced when creating The Wave?

Jerrica: It wasn’t easy amassing then amazing team we have today. We have had people float in and out. But our core team today shows up every week and they’re ready to dive in. And I’m so grateful for every single one of them.

Vanessa: Before our launch, I think the notion of putting something that didn’t exist before into the world was our Goliath. We knew we were creating something great, but it wasn’t until we were blown away by the turnout at our inaugural issue coffeehouse, that we realized we were making something tangible that touches others. We debated whether the Quranzine would breach our image as a safe, creative oasis that our first issue kind of established. In the end, we pushed ahead: our designers created jarring graphics with an undeniably political statement. Art can clash and coexist with social issues, and I think the plethora of works in the Quaranzine — the introspective, the passionate, the political — really reflect that.

Jason: An initial as well as a current obstacle is to bring more awareness to The Wave.

What was your favorite topic or article covered in The Wave?

Jerrica: It would be crazy to pick just one. But in our special Quaranzine Issue being released in August, we have some works that all deal with what it’s like to be with family and friends (maybe that you can only talk to via zoom) during the pandemic. For me, I resonate with those pieces because I feel like even though I’ve gotten closer to my family, the pandemic creates its own isolation out of home.

Vanessa: One of my favorite Quaranzine submissions is “I Shed Tears on the Beach in Kamakura!” by Alexander Zirui Zhang. It captures a melancholic and nostalgic sort of happiness, and I think we’re all feeling a bit of that in quarantine.

Jason: It is hard for me to choose a favorite — I love the topic of food, though. Food not only is one of the most accessible ways to experience Pan-Asian culture, but also, a great piece of writing or art pulls and enwraps me in the warmth that food uniquely provides.

How has your heritage and culture played a role for you in your contributions to The Wave?

Jerrica: My heritage has allowed me the empathy to create the space that The Wave is — diverse, open, adaptable, a space that listens and encourages rather than dictates what is “good art” or “bad art”. But as well, it’s taken me a long time to feel like I am knowledgeable enough of my culture and feel proud of it. And that was my own Individual journey. I, and this magazine, do not make assumptions of what it means to be Asian American. That’s actually what the space is built for, to ask you the question of what it means to you.

Vanessa: As a second-generation Chinese-American, I toyed with the symbolism of red in Chinese and Western culture in my poem, “Red” for the Quaranzine. When I write, I like to include allusions to Chinese legends or my heritage: I almost feel like it’s enfolding a hidden layer of secrets for others to discover. As a Chinese-American, I am cognizant of Chinese and East Asian culture’s dominant presence in society’s conception of “Asian,” and I think we have been grappling with that. We are determined to have no significant barriers to entry, unlike other publications, to make our platform as inclusive and safe as possible. So, we hope that anyone who makes art and identifies as Asian knows they can find a niche at The Wave. We sincerely want the multitude of experiences contained within the Asian identity to be heard, so we are always open to passionate and diverse voices in our pieces and joining our team.

What is your advice to young Asian Americans growing up during this time?

Jerrica: Create. Whether you like to draw digital art, whether you’ve always been thinking of starting a blog, whether you just like journaling every night privately, whether you’ve been meaning to try painting for the past year, just go for it. When you create, you begin to strengthen your individual voice. You design and decide the world of the art you create. How powerful is that?!

Vanessa: I am still a work in progress, so I want to remind myself and others that we can and should take up space. Our stories matter. In our current situation, it is time to be angry, but also the time to be compassionate and use our voices to uplift those who are not heard, from helping fellow Asian-Americans to being allies to BIPOC and other marginalized communities.

Jason: I would suggest taking your identity for what it is, and be resilient to those who make fun of you for it. It is something that nobody can take away.

The Waves of Asian America was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

If you’ve been paying attention to the news lately, then you’ll notice two things about the Trump administration: One, they’re doing a crummy job at managing the coronavirus pandemic, and two, they’re setting their sights on China as a political scapegoat for this health crisis. From accusations of instigating the pandemic to shutting down the Chinese consulate in Houston on unfounded accusations of espionage, the Trump Administration’s most recent attacks on China manifest itself in the potential ban of popular social media app TikTok.

What’s the Big Deal Behind TikTok?

TikTok is owned by a Chinese internet company called ByteDance. American officials are concerned that the Chinese government could use TikTok to get access to information on Americans who use TikTok because the app is owned by a Chinese company. TikTok has stated numerous times that it is not influenced by the Chinese government, but as of last Friday, President Trump has planned to ban the app, possibly through an executive order.

In response, ByteDance has tried to sell the American operations of TikTok to stop the Trump Administration from banning the app. Microsoft is one company who is in discussions of potentially buying the app. ByteDance has also discussed selling a large stake of TikTok to American investors in hopes of appeasing the Trump Administration, but they have rejected this.

A similar quandary between a Chinese internet company and the Trump Administration took place last year where a Chinese company that had bought the mobile dating app Grindr sold it to an American company under pressure from the Trump Administration.

*8/10 Update: President Trump signed an executive order last week prohibiting transactions with TikTok if ByteDance does not divest it in 45 days.

Our Take

If the purpose of banning the social media app was to prevent a national security threat in the form of data and information collection, then why ban it now? The timing seems to be a bit odd, especially since Trump’s announcement of banning TikTok momentarily took the attention away from the coronavirus pandemic that continually ravishes the majority of the nation. The sudden announcement of a potential TikTok ban is an unnecessary digression from the fact that over 150,000 people have died from coronavirus and infection rates are no where near slowing down as many states grapple with going back to school.

Does anyone find it timely that this announcement was made less than three months away from the November 2020 election? If TikTok was such a concern, then why was it not addressed earlier or before TikTok rose in popularity? It seems that TikTok is yet another pawn President Trump is attempting to use to revitalize his dwindling base.

Additionally, how might one actually ban a mobile app that is currently installed in the devices of over 100 million users? President Trump may try to use an executive order to demolish it from the app store, but what’s there to stop individuals from continually using it, downloading from the TikTok website, or using more unconventional means to access the app? Clearly, Trump and his posse have underestimated how far technologically addicted Gen Z kids will go to laugh at 10 second videos at 3 AM.

If national security is the prime reason for banning TikTok, then why not use this opportunity to reform laws on internet security and personal data, which is currently operating on what feels like the Wild West. Why not open the blackbox of TikTok algorithms that organize and collect data to better understand what we’re facing? Why not allocate more resources and support towards internet companies that can serve as competitors of TikTok, and thus take away users from TikTok and introduce a platform of equivalent clout and operating in the U.S.? Why not develop stricter guidelines with the Apple Store and Android Store for data collection for app companies that are outside of the U.S.? Why not reinforce stricter privacy laws for all social media apps in general?

If this was really about national security, then these questions would have been considered and explored. Instead, what this is really about is President Trump’s strategy to vilify anything remotely Chinese in order to salvage his presidential approval ratings and reputation before the November election.

The Politics of TikTok was originally published in Watercress on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.