I spend a lot of time thinking about race and my experiences as a first person narrative bias compared to the actual reality.

It was hard for me to grow-up an Asian male in the United States. Micro-aggressions. Toxic masculinity. A lack of representation. They aren’t objectively the most difficult of obstacles, and I would never say that I didn’t grow up with extreme advantages from my parent’s hard work. Roof above my head. Never needed anything. Opportunities outside of education to pursue interests like music and athletics.

But I could have used some role models.

See as the oldest and male, I had a lot of expectations put on me. Take care of yourself. Take care of your brother. Take care of your family.

However, whatever conundrums I faced as a young first generation Asian male and the oldest child, I’m forced to conclude that I could have easily remedied my problems. Simply reaching out, asking for help, taking initiatives; I had plenty of opportunity to make it better and there were lots of people who would’ve helped me.

I didn’t. Cuz, dumb moody teenagers can’t get out of their own heads. But, yeah, a big brother coulda helped.

Regardless.

It’s interesting to draw from the experiences of my younger self to understand other people’s narratives. It gives me better context of my story in the collective space that we shared.

This realization tangibility intersected with race when I volunteered at the Music for Autism concert.

My job was basically to interact with guests and make a nice environment for everyone.

A young Asian family joined the event; Mom, Dad, a young girl under 9 and her little brother, probably 5-6. The girl’s hair was braided really nicely in a traditional Asian way with multiple colored bands and some jade. I offered a compliment. Her mom had done it for her. The boy was super polite, raising his hand to answer a bunch of questions, but never yelling out unlike some of the other kids. I complimented his attitude/behavior as well.

Later, during some of the audience participation bits, I was thumping my chest to the beat, because I like pretending I’m a caveman sometimes. I catch the young boy’s eye and he mimics my chest thumps and we share a moment in the music.

Finally, as we gather for the group photo, the boy stands a few feet in front and to the right of me. I ask him if he like to stand with me for the photo, and he nods empathically and hustles to stand in front of me and next to the cello. We say cheese, the boy, the cellist, and I talk for a bit and he runs away to his family.

I don’t want to fall into the first person narration bias again, but I felt like I made a noticeable, if brief, impact in that child’s life. Asian males don’t have too many strong role models. You’re either Bruce Lee/Jackie Chan or headed to an Ivy or a UC for college. Not much space for a well-adjusted, confident Asian man. YouTube, honestly, may have changed that a little bit, the space between Freddy Wong, Nigahiga, and PodZ; new platforms allow new voices be role models under a variety of light. But we need to have more and in universally distributed mediums. Especially

We’re seeing a positive change in superhero movies now, with deep, well rounded characters in good movies. What little girl didn’t love Wonder Woman? Black Panther, the King of Kings, gives black boys hope and pride. That exposure is powerful, don’t misjudge it, and it’ll have lasting good impacts on our future society, not least of which is expanding the cultural influences of our collective mindset.

Children should see “themselves” as firefighters, astronauts, accountants, presidents, scientists, entrepreneurs. It allows them to dream they can be the people they want, from Jedi to James Bond, Nobel Laurates to Olympians.

We’re all representatives of our intersectionalities. For me, I have to be more aware of my role as an ambassador, and occasionally, role model to people other American males who have trouble bridging the Asian cultural gap at home and might need the help, just like I did. Even the smallest of things.

I hope I was a positive influence on that kid’s life. I hope I was the role model I would have wanted at that age, because I poignantly know how much I could have used it. But I can’t honestly say that I know.

I’m striving to live a life more kind, to be that force for good, and inspire people to do the same. We’re all in this together, we’re all working towards something greater. I fail. Often and with extravagance. Or quietly and alone. I hate them both. But I’m learning every day. I’m trying to get better, to expand my comfort zones, to be the person I want to be. I’m going to make slow progress, one step at a time and, with hope, encourage people to come with me.