Ashamed of being asian

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Here's how to inoculate ourselves against negative ones. Verified by Psychology Today. Minority Report.

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I think she might be retarded. The following year, I began elementary school and started to learn English intensively as Mandarin took a backseat. I began memorizing lyrics of pop songs, boy bands, whatever was going on with Britney Spears, as well as the lineups of MTV, Nickelodeon and the Disney channel just to take part in conversation.

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Growing up, I would go to grade school with a box lunch that my mom packed usually containing rice, steamed vegetables, and some form of meat. In my teenage years, I would be embarrassed each time my mom conversed with my friends in her barely understandable broken English. I am an Asian American.

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As I have mentioned in previous columns, I grew up in a suburb where almost everybody around me was Asian or Asian American. I never wanted to be the type of person who surrounded myself with the same type of people. However, one of my closest friends during my sophomore year at USC ended up being from the same area as me.

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The first time I felt ashamed of being Asian, I was six years old. It sounded purely American. He frowned at my response, then ran off, beckoned by his group of white friends.

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My parents, much to my constant embarrassment, built an outdoor cooking area. Every night, my dad would squat by the makeshift design stirring whatever delicious concoction we were having for dinner, usually in a wok or a clay pot. Years later, when we bought our first home, my parents turned the back deck into an outside kitchen and our little cooking area was upgraded with a stove, refrigerator, exhaust fan, vinyl floors; it even had a table for casual meals.

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Until a few months ago, Nadya Okamoto was ashamed of being Asian but didn't really realize it. We talk to her about how her upbringing in New York and Portland affected how she viewed herself and how a recent run for city council brought her identity issues to light. We also talk about what it's like for her now as someone who is just starting to embrace their identity.

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Until three months ago, I was ashamed of being Asian. When people look at me, I am usually categorized as just Asian. I later learned that she was secretly part Chinese, raised by a mother who grew up in China, and grew up in a racist Japan that made her feel ashamed because of that.

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The first time I learned that I looked different was in second grade. It hadn't been an issue in first grade, but now, at my new school, people thought my Asian-American face looked funny. I remember playing alone a lot.

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My first day at Pepperdine culturally shocked me. I clearly remember an ethnically Chinese student sitting next to me in COMspeaking in a strong Californian accent and explaining how it was hard for her to relate to her Asian grandparents with whom she could barely communicate. It was the first time I witnessed a person completely disregarding their ethnic roots.

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