Beyond the Model Minority: Honoring My Roots While Choosing Myself
I was born on the east coast of Canada to Chinese immigrant parents. Growing up as a visible minority, I was constantly seen as an outsider. I was “too different” to be Canadian, yet “too Canadian” to be Chinese. Our family’s values didn’t make sense to me: no sleepovers, no TV, no fun. And worst of all: don’t question it.
Telling a child not to ask “why” or challenge what feels wrong—just isn’t right. I felt like my identity, creativity, and desire to belong in this world were being buried under six feet of unspoken, intergenerational trauma, passed down as fear and paranoia. Every Chinese adult around me seemed to carry the weight of the world—and I was expected to do my part by giving up my childhood. Because my parents had grown up under oppression, war, and tyranny, joy and laughter were off-limits for me.
Still, a part of me always knew there was more to who I was than what the world had prescribed. But as the so-called “model minority,” I felt responsible for upholding a perfect image—not just for myself, but for all Asians. When people said things like “Oh, we love Chinese people!” or “Ask her, she must know,” I was reminded of the racial assumptions I was expected to fulfill. I wanted to just be a messy, loud, carefree teen. But I could never risk shaming “my people.”
The painful truth was that “my people” cared more about the role I played and the image I upheld than about who I really was. A five-year-old shouldn’t have to master the strange art of self-preservation by suppressing her own feelings. I felt betrayed, lost, and deeply disappointed. I gave up joy, growth, and authenticity in order to appear “acceptable” to society. And in return, I wasn’t met with acknowledgment, gratitude, or even recognition—only the words: 应该的—”as it should be.”
But today, I’m honoring that five-year-old by finally giving myself permission to have fun. I’m literally and metaphorically picking up the pens, brushes, and games I wasn’t allowed to touch. I’m fighting the urge to stay quiet for the comfort of others. I’m questioning the internalized beliefs that kept me from blooming. I’m learning to appreciate my culture for its beauty, rather than seeing it only as something that held me captive. I’m committed to building self-awareness—so that this cycle ends with me.
The healing journey is long. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this:
You are worth fighting for. You are worth getting to know. You are worth this life. Give yourself that chance.
Engaging in therapy is a great way to start. As you learn to name the scary emotions and unconscious patterns, you can slowly start to gain control of important pieces of your life. As you lean into the discomfort and allow yourself to grieve what could’ve been or what never was, you can start to see the beauty of those experiences and move forward.
Have you ever struggled at with fulfilling the role of the “model minority?”
Mei Yang is a licensed LMHCA with Freesia Therapy Collective, specializing in Depression, Cultural & Racial Identity and Immigrant Experience.