The Push for Authentic Asian American Representation in the Media
AAPI Heritage Month Feature
Jeremy Hsing, director of short films, “Iridescence” and “Fish” has been searching all his life for the perfect way to weld his creative pursuits with his self-exploration journey. In this quest to express himself and his culture, Hsing found a passion for filmmaking and uses his writing and directing skills to tell his stories and inspire others to do the same.
“Iridescence,” his short film on his experiences with family, love, and mental health within underrepresented communities, was his bold introduction to the film world. Hsing called the difficult but rewarding process of making it and sharing it his own personal form of exposure therapy.
“It’s a short that combined intergenerational healing with my Asian American culture and also has some magical realism with its animation sequence,” he said.
Hsing wrote, produced, and directed the film himself, learning as he went along and pouring his life into every scene and frame. His vulnerable depiction of his mental health struggles found an audience in his family and opened the door to important conversations that Hsing said felt lacking in his family and within his Asian American culture.
“I didn’t make it for the art, I made it for the message and I think the message really resonated with my family, both immediate and extended. It opened up our conversation and made us all more open about mental health.”
For Hsing, being able to tell his story and have his family listen, and challenge some of the stigmas of mental health, was the first step to change.
“I think it's a generational, cultural stigma that manifests in different ways for each family, but there is that overarching theme of ‘I went through all this stuff in my life and experienced all this hardship, so whether it's unconscious or not, I displaced it onto the next generation’” he said in explanation of the often implicit stress this generation of POC, particularly those whose parents are immigrants, can feel.
“My goal, because of the privilege that I have in being born after these generations of hardship, is to try to end that intergenerational cycle so that if I have kids one day, they don’t have to experience trauma.”
Hsing’s demonstration of art and film as a way to change the lives and minds of everyday people is one of many examples of the power of media. Stories and the way they are told have the intimate ability to challenge ideas, beliefs, and stereotypes and in their place plant richer, more accepting narratives.
He finds inspiration in the Asian films Hollywood has produced lately, specifically diverse stories that pave the way for those who want to subtly but powerfully incite change and understanding with their content. It is the path he took and he was grateful in acknowledging that change is a slow but steady process – in the film industry and within himself and his family.
“Every generation of my bloodline, I guess, becomes slightly more progressive and open to deviating from the social norm, so I am a byproduct of that, for which I’m grateful.”
However, the media, much like the humans that create it, is still full of many biases and unfair depictions of people and cultures. Particularly during Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) Heritage Month, we recognize the lack of representation being offered and more than that, the harmful, stereotypical representation of Asian Americans that often is seen in TV and film.
While a lot of progress has been made with movies like “Crazy Rich Asians” or the Netflix series “Never Have I Ever,” there is still a well-placed burden on directors to create work that addresses not only inaccuracies in cultural depictions but also seamlessly weaves said culture into the everyday lives of characters in a subtle and destigmatizing way.
“Pieces shouldn’t rely on cultural cliches; all of these characters are their own and human and I feel like that's what makes stories so successful. Not that they are an Asian cast, but because it's just a really good story, those are the type of stories that I want to tell,” Hsing said when asked about the current Asian American representation in television and film.
For Hsing, the strongest stories are about real people and cultures, a truth that you believe in. Lived experiences breed the best storytellers and much like other young, diverse creators, he was grateful for the chance to share an authentic part of himself through his films.
Hollywood can take a page out of his book and, as Hsing highlighted, realize that the richest and best form of representation are films and shows that don’t play on or rely on the typical cultural stereotypes or ideas one unfairly associates with Asian Americans.
“I think that media and art hold a lot of merit to society and society in the United States is becoming more diverse by the day. I don’t even think it’s performative, I think it’s just accurately reflecting what society is.”
Especially now during AAPI Heritage Month, it is more important than ever to recognize the struggles this often marginalized community faces and the valuable stories they can offer the world. Creating the space to share these stories and intently listening and learning is the responsibility of every creator and consumer. Whether it be to combat the very real generational trauma Asian Americans experience or a way for us to learn and work on our own inherent biases, Hsing has shown that while the media can perpetuate negative stereotypes, it can also beautifully change them, one family and one young creator at a time.
Mireille Karadanaian
CSS Intern
Iridescence: Empathy Through Storytelling
AAPI Heritage Month Feature
When the rise of Asian hate crimes became so prevalent that it reached national headlines, I felt lost. As a child of Chinese immigrants who grew up in Southern California my whole life, it made me question my relationship with my own culture in a way that I never had before. What could I do to help my community? How could I do my part in trying to heal the polarizing divide in our country? My answer to these questions? Write the story of my life.
How Iridescence Came To Life
I believe that hate comes from a lack of empathy, and that media has the unique capability of giving the viewer a glimpse into someone else’s life, finding a universality in the personal. It might not change their mind completely, but at the very least, it can potentially challenge their preconceived notions on who someone is. So, I wrote a deeply personal short titled Iridescence that explores intergenerational trauma, mental health, and toxic masculinity. I utilized the Center for Scholars & Storytellers’ Boy’s Tip Sheet as a reference in shaping the dialogue and interactions of the characters. I also had the script workshopped in our CSS weekly lab session where multiple lab members gave me resources to research on authentically portraying cultural conflict and Asian mental health. Afterwards, an excerpt from my script was also used as an icebreaker in a CAPE x Center for Scholars & Storytellers think tank on how to authentically portray mental health in media. At the think tank, CAPE Executive Director Michelle Sugihara, congratulated me on my work and I was given invaluable feedback from scholars and storytellers alike on how to improve the script. Fast forward several months later and Iridescence is now making the rounds in the film festival circuit, where it’s placed as a Semifinalist in the Los Angeles Chinese Film Festival and a Finalist for the Independent Shorts Awards among several other accolades. It also has been spotlighted by the Daily Bruin and reviewed by a disability led non-profit organization that I hold near and dear to my heart, RespectAbility.
Breaking Stigma Through Conversation
While winning awards is a cool experience, I view it as secondary to my primary goal with the film which is to destigmatize mental health in the AAPI community. With that, I made sure to create a podcast to accompany the film where I interviewed the cast and crew regarding important taboo topics such as growing up as a minority, mental health allyship, understanding the love languages and cultural differences of our parents, and storytelling as a mechanism for change. I’ve had members of the cast and crew open up to me about how working on the project made them more willing to have those tough conversations with their family and friends, which has been indescribably fulfilling to me.
The Power of Authentic Storytelling
With a cast and crew largely consisting of women and the AAPI community, the film embodies the type of stories I want to tell. Being that the script is based on my own family, I did a table read with them. While my brother and mom were quick to congratulate me, my dad was silent. However, similar to the theme of the film itself, he sent me a long text afterwards, confiding in me that although he never was the type to say “I love you”–he really does. That moment of catharsis is the power of storytelling. As a DEIA advocate, I view authentic storytelling as a moral responsibility. It’s so important to do the research and consult with organizations with your stories because they have real world ramifications on the culture and society. Moving forward, I want to tell authentic stories that bridge the divide in our world and help us see each other not as archetypes, but as human beings. And organizations like the Center for Scholars & Storytellers as well as the Coalition of Asian Pacifics in Entertainment equip me with the resources and skills to do just that.
Jeremy Hsing
Writer/Director, Former CSS Intern
Boosting Asian American Women's Visibility Through Comics
AAPI Heritage Month Feature
As a little girl I watched Mulan six times a day, no seriously, six times. I sat with my lola on the couch all day fixated on this girl who left everything she knew to fight for the honor of her family and her country. I think subconsciously I was drawn to Mulan more than the other Disney princesses, not simply because she looked like me, but because she was a girl who didn’t need saving from any prince; she saved the day herself. As I grew up, I continued to keep my eyes glued to the silver screen because the magic of storytelling made me feel so alive. It asks the audience to step outside of themselves, to have genuine care and curiosity about another person’s life, to dig deep into another’s soul, and that is powerful.
Rushing to be where all the storytelling action was, I moved to Los Angeles with my mom at 17-years-old. I remember coming out of auditions and realizing that not a lot of people looked like me. Was it because the roles that were written weren’t really written for people that looked like me? Was it because Asian Americans aren’t typically thought of as leading ladies? All these questions were circulating in my mind until one day I decided to do something about it. I realized that if I’m not seeing the roles for young girls out there that look like me, then I was going to have to be part of the solution.
Instead of waiting around and taking a passive seat to all the major players in the entertainment industry, we decided to take action. My mom and I began discussing what this representation could look like. Being the sci-fi, fantasy, superhero-loving family that we are, we thought, “why couldn’t we imagine a world in which a young Filipina superhero exists?” That’s when we decided to take control. Let’s just create the stories we wanted to see and not ask for permission to be seen. As we continued to play around with the idea of a story rooted in Filipino culture, we began diving into the different mythos of the Philippines and realized how fantastic and magical these tales were. With superheroes being a huge part of the comic book genre and the world of Philippine mythology so vibrant, we thought the best way to tell this story would be through the visual medium of comic books.
Despite female readers accounting for half of the comic book audience in its early popularity in the 1940’s, history has shown that women continue to be left out of the narrative. As major comic book companies grew, such as Marvel and DC, the focus shifted to the superhero genre that was tailored toward male viewership. Female representation is seriously lacking both on and off the page. Research shows that despite the growth in female artists and writers in the comic book industry, women are still heavily underrepresented with female creators accounting for 16-17% of Marvel and DC’s talent pool. This underrepresentation can further explain why women are left off the page and not represented as the main character with just 12% of mainstream superhero comics showcasing female protagonists. Out of these few female protagonists, many are drawn with unrealistic bodies and exaggerated features that hyper-sexualize the female body and cater specifically to the male gaze. These stories are often filled with a surplus of sexist undertones and provocative poses that send unattainable messages of striving for an impossible body. So where does that leave young female readers? Who do they have to not only look up to, but see themselves truly reflected in? Where are the characters that make them say “I know her. I am her.”
Of course, these types of characters are not likely to be written in an authentic way (or at all) if the people from our communities aren’t welcomed in the writers rooms. Representation is not true representation if it is only seen in one sector of the industry. When we mean representation we mean visibility both on and off the screen and page. Asian American female writers and artists are necessary to tell these stories authentically. So when we were creating our team for our comic book company, it only made sense that the mission of our company, which is to highlight “Asian” and “women”-driven narratives, was reflected in the team itself. This led us to create the first all Asian women comic book company.
The first series of Kwento Comics, The Mask of Haliya, tells the story of a Filipina-American teen, Marisol Reyes, who goes to the Philippines after the death of her great-grandmother. There, she finds a mysterious wooden mask at the wake where she not only finds herself imbued with incredible powers, but at the epicenter of an ancient war between Philippine shamans and gods of the Underworld. When introducing our main character, we wanted to break the stereotypes of women in comic books that had unrealistic body types and create an accurate depiction of a young Filipina girl growing into adulthood. A girl who isn’t perfect, who messes up and is trying to figure it all out, an unlikely hero. Asian American women have been scarcely represented in US media. In a study conducted by UCLA’s 2022 Hollywood Diversity Report, Asians represented 5.6% of film leads with women representing less than half of those leads. When they are represented, historically they have been depicted as stereotypes from the “Dragon Lady”, “China Doll”, or “The Nerd”. It was imperative that we break this cycle at Kwento Comics and shine a light on untold narratives and dynamic, fully fleshed out characters. Through the discovery of her family’s ancestral past and Filipino culture, Mari will go down a journey of self-discovery and an understanding of who she is truly destined to become.
Another important element of our storytelling is the inclusion of Philippine mythology. Audiences have seen everything from Greek to Roman to Norse Mythology with the likes of Zeus, Jupiter, and Thor, however there are a plethora of other mythologies in the world that never get the spotlight. As a young Filipina girl growing up, I was never exposed to the vibrant world of Philippine mythology that existed. Similar to our main character who goes to the Philippines where she discovers her Filipino heritage, the comic book was a way for me to dive deep into my own culture and share it with the world. It is through working on this comic book that I have taken true pride in where I come from and hope that others will feel inspired to do the same by creating more content that lifts up Asian American visibility in media.
Actionable Insights:
Do research on your own culture and see what folks, legends, and myths your ancestors told to each other.
Show more women in comics with real and authentic bodies.
Create dynamic female characters that follow the Bechdel Test.
When assembling your creative team, include those part of marginalized communities - BIPOC, LGBTQ+, and women.
Waverley Lim
Former UCLA Student
Read more about Kwento Comics in The Daily Bruin.
Turning Red: The Experience of Asian American Teenage Girls
AAPI HERITAGE MONTH FEATURE
For the celebration of AAPI (Asian American and Pacific Islander) heritage month, we chose to highlight Pixar’s first Asian-led film – Turning Red. The coming-of-age animated movie, featuring predominantly Asian American (AA) characters, is the first to be solo directed by a woman and, more specifically, a woman of color, Domee Shi. Turning Red centers on Meilin “Mei” Lee, a 13-year-old Chinese Canadian girl who navigates through puberty, friendship, and cultural expectations.
To our surprise, some reviewers have criticized the film as too personal and specific to be relatable to most audiences. However, we have found that Turning Red accurately depicts what other films haven’t been able to before: our unique experiences growing up as AA teenage girls.
Asian American Mother-Daughter Conflict
The mother-daughter relationship has been the topic of many stories about young girls throughout the years. Films such as Lady Bird, Freaky Friday, and Brave have portrayed this relationship, but the intergenerational conflict between AA moms and daughters is particularly distinctive. For AA immigrant families, this conflict often stems from the disconnect between collectivism and individualism, or the core community values of Eastern and Western cultures, respectively. Turning Red follows in the footsteps of AA mother-daughter stories (such as Joy Luck Club) and adds to a growing list of films that depict this dynamic (such as Everything, Everywhere, All at Once).
The relationship between Mei and her mom, Ming, fluctuates throughout the movie. Mei tries her best to be the perfect daughter according to her family’s expectations, but begins to experience changes in her body, hormone levels, and behavior. She transforms into a giant red panda when she feels strong emotions, such as joy, anger, sadness, and embarrassment. The panda serves as a metaphor for puberty, a turbulent time for both children and parents. Mei starts to fight with her mom and goes against her mom’s expectations and family traditions. The film does not glorify disobedience; rather, it portrays the complicated reality of the parent-child dynamic during adolescence. In particular, Turning Red highlights the immigrant mother-daughter bond and the trauma passed down from one generation to the next. Like what was done previously, Ming seeks to control and suppress Mei’s red panda. As Mei learns to deal with her red panda and tackle her family’s intergenerational trauma, she and her mom realize that it is okay to embrace the messy parts of yourself.
The Importance of 4*Town
Another source of parental conflict is Mei’s desire to attend the 4*Town concert with her friends. Although many dismiss 4*Town as a comedic portrayal of the hormonal, boy-crazy tendencies of teenage girls, boy bands and fandom culture play an important role in AA identity development. For AA teens growing up on the Internet, some of the first AA media representation was through YouTube creators. Some channels explored makeup and Asian beauty, like Michelle Phan and Jenn Im, while others made comedy skits about AA identity, like Ryan Higa and Wong Fu Productions. Fans of these creators on YouTube developed a community for many AA viewers to discuss their identity openly and see people who look like them on screen when Hollywood lacked representation. Additionally, many AA teens consume media from Asia itself, such as anime and K-Pop, to connect with their identity. The term Hallyu, or Korean wave, was coined in the 1990s as Korean pop culture rose in popularity throughout Asia and the U.S. This wave has continued through today, as seen through the craze around Korean music, like BTS, and the praise for Korean dramas, like Squid Game. We even see a nod to K-Pop in Turning Red through one of 4*Town’s members, Tae Young. In an interview about the movie, Domee Shi revealed that she was influenced by both American and Korean boy bands growing up, acknowledging that the media often ridicules young girls for being a part of such fandoms. Hence, Turning Red depicts the significant influence of fandom for AA girls’ experiences and is one of the first to do so seriously, without the typical mockery of teen girls.
4*Town was also important in portraying the connection within Mei’s friend group. According to research on teenage fans, participating in fandom culture facilitates teens to establish close communities and friendships around a shared interest for celebrities. We see this phenomenon when 4*Town ties the four friends, Mei, Abby, Priya, and Miriam, together. Contrary to the typical toxic depictions of teenage friendships in television shows and movies, Turning Red provides a positive portrayal of female friendships. Mei, Abby, Priya, and Miriam are able to be themselves around each other and appreciate each other’s quirkiness. This gives audiences a fresh perspective on teenage female friendships and shows the supportive community surrounding fandoms.
Conclusion and Next Steps
Turning Red normalizes puberty (emotions, menstruation, boy-craziness, etc.) and celebrates strong female friendships, while addressing topics like intergenerational trauma and identity formation. Indeed, the film provides AA teen girls with an accurate portrayal of their experiences, but there is still room for improvement in authentic and inclusive AA representation. Future stories can include more diversity in Asian ethnic groups: current representation is overwhelmingly East Asian and lacks South Asian and Southeast Asian experiences. It is also important to consider intersectionality in AA representation, including LGBTQ+ representation, biracial and multicultural identities, and different ages.
Sisi Peng
CSS Fellow
Alexa Mugol
Former CSS Intern
AAPI Hate is a Virus: How We As a Nation Can Find the Cure
How Asian Stereotypes In Media Led to a Shocking Rise in AAPI Hate Crimes in 2020-2021 — and What You Can Do About It.
Editor’s Note:
The importance of Asian representation in media could not be more clear in light of the recent Atlanta spa shootings and COVID-19 pandemic. The killer was motivated, in part, by films' and TV's frequent depiction of Asian women as sex objects and proper targets for abuse. Conservative media's constant references to the "Chinese Virus" and the "China Virus" have fueled a rising number of hate crimes against all Asian-Americans. Read below how you can support the AAPI community by creating more three-dimensional and positive Asian characters in movies and TV shows, patronizing Asian restaurants and businesses, donating to AAPI causes, and more.
By now, you have probably heard of the senseless shootings in Atlanta that targeted Asian people at massage parlors. Eight people were killed, six of whom were Asian and seven who were women. While mainstream news outlets like the New York Times used a trite headline “8 People Killed in Atlanta Area Massage Parlor Shootings,” the fact of the matter is that this wasn’t a random act of shooting fueled by passion or impulse. It was a hate crime. Unfortunately, this watered-down reporting is not an isolated incident. Reputable news outlets have a history of dismissing racist attacks toward Asians, and this lack of widespread media coverage invalidates the increasing prejudice and physical attacks Asians are facing on a daily basis, especially during the Covid-19 pandemic.
A History of Hatred
According to a national report by Stop AAPI Hate, there have been 3,795 reports of anti-Asian hate incidents from March 2020 to February 2021. And that does not account for the more subtle microaggressions that go unreported, such as a resentful glare at the grocery store or hearing someone call Covid-19 the “Chinese Virus” or the “Kung Flu.” While the national conversation is slowly beginning to put this issue to the forefront, Anti-Asian American hate is not new. The Chinese Massacre of 1871 murdered 17 Chinese men. The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 prohibited all immigration of Chinese laborers. The Rock Springs Massacre of 1885 led to 28 Chinese miners being slaughtered and 78 homes burned. The Watsonville Riots of 1930 beat Filipino field workers and left them to rot. Executive Order 9066 forced 127,000 Japanese Americans to move out of their homes and be imprisoned in internment camps. To say that this is a recent issue is not only deeply misguided but historically inaccurate. As deep as our roots may be in American soil, people of Asian descent are viewed as foreign. White supremacy and xenophobic tendencies are baked into the heart of our nation.
Creating better Asian characters in films and TV must move beyond tokenism. Casting people from different ethnic groups, without giving them much dialogue or opportunity to advance the plot, is not enough. Read more about writing more than token characters in movies and TV shows.
Even Hollywood, which is considered liberal-leaning and is slowly beginning to incorporate diversity and inclusion into its industry, has a history of racism that is still on display today. Asian women are often hypersexualized, objectified, and abused in films. It’s no coincidence that the Atlanta murderer, who blamed his actions on his sex addiction, specifically targeted spas comprised of Asian women. His remarks are rooted in a history of misogyny and stereotypes that are all too familiar for Asian and Asian American women. There is an unspoken belief in this country that Asian women are supposed to submit to the white savior, and this isn’t just limited to the public or the workplace. A 2016 report by the National Network to End Domestic Violence found that “41 to 61 percent of Asian women reported experiencing physical and/or sexual violence by an intimate partner in their lifetime, a higher rate than any other ethnic group.” Seeing these harmful stereotypes reinforced, even in films that are supposed to advocate for our community, is dangerous due to its reinforcement of the model minority myth. So what can we do about it?
Call to Action
The police are not the answer to stopping Asian American hate; not when their origins are deeply problematic; not when they sympathize with the murderer instead of showing compassion for the victims. Rather, we must rely on the collective strength of our communities of color and meaningful allies to fight for systemic change, going beyond performative action. As Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez said, “Dismantling racist, anti-Asian violence means standing up to white supremacy - the same ideology that asks us to empathize with those who commit racist violence rather than the families destroyed and communities targeted by it. Standing up for Asian communities means standing up to racist policy, anti-Asian tropes, & understanding the long history of anti-Asian racism fueling this violence.”
Share and amplify the stories of the AAPI community. Check-in on AAPI friends and family. Support your local Asian restaurants and businesses. Call your legislators and ask what they are doing for the Asian community. Volunteer to help escort seniors in areas that have seen hate crimes. Report if you see any instance of a hate crime. Donate to organizations that support the cause against Asian violence. Petition to hold the media accountable for covering these stories. Follow platforms that discuss AAPI issues. Provide mental health resources to those who are struggling. But most of all, do not be silent. As Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
Reducing racial violence against Asian Americans begins at home, especially with kids' TV and movies. Find images of positive Asian characters for your children's entertainment. Help them develop cross-group friendships. Talk explicitly about racism and its influence in society. Read more about how to reduce racial bias in kids.
Hatred and violence against the AAPI community cannot and should not be tolerated. We must do whatever it takes to combat this issue while it is still part of the national conversation, not only for ourselves but for the subjugated and oppressed of the past. Then, and only then, we have a chance at curing this virus.
Actionable Insights
Support local Asian restaurants, businesses, and creatives.
Share and amplify the stories of the AAPI community who have experienced hate
Hold your elected officials accountable for what they are doing (or not doing) to help stop AAPI hate
Donate to organizations that support the AAPI community
Provide mental health resources to those in the community who need it
Create characters and content that authentically represent Asian Americans in Hollywood
Watch films that authentically represent the AAPI community
Denounce harmful stereotypical portrayals of Asians in TV and film when you encounter them
Call out yourself, friends, and family members for anti-Asian jokes and stereotypical comments
Rewrite history books in a way that accurately represents the struggles of the BIPOC community
Follow organizations that support the AAPI community and teach about their plight
CSS Intern
Disclaimer: The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this blog belong solely to the author, and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Center for Scholars & Storytellers.