2019-20

I was born in Kazakhstan and adopted by an American family at the age of 2. On campus, I’m in a couple clubs — one of them being the Russian Music Ensemble. We get together and we play some music, and I do my best to sing in Russian. I don't actually know Russian that well, so I often find myself slowing down recordings and learning lyrics syllable by syllable without knowing exactly what they mean. I like the challenge because I used to speak Russian and Kazakh when I was very young. I knew 'baby kazakh' and 'baby Russian' when I was adopted, but about a year after that I forgot them and learned English.

There's no right way to be Asian-American, to be a human. I think we are lucky to be able to share parts of our identities, though we may all experience it differently. It's important to remember that even though it's nice to share some traditions, traits, or experiences, we should still be accepting and supportive of those in our community who may not relate in that way. I think the APIA community is on the right track for that, and it makes me really happy to be a part of it

As an immigrant, I feel this pressure to be some way around the people here. I am the one that has to sacrifice my culture to bridge the gap of differences. For the different identities I hold, I find it difficult to find a space that I belong. I can’t find people that understand my queer identity in my Asian community and I can’t seem to fit in the queer space dominated by people that don’t understand my cultural backgroud, either, and I face similar dilemma in spiritual spaces. Holding these intersectional identities, I have to write my own stories and create my own space

One word to describe myself as an Asian-American is ‘loud.’” I don’t mean talking too much or raising my voice a lot. I feel like my entire existence is loud; before I came to W&M, it felt like my presence itself was screaming for everyone to look at me since I was visibly the only Asian kid in the room. But now, when I’m on campus surrounded by people who look like me and are closer with their heritage (i.e., speaking the language, eating the food, visiting the country their parents or grandparents are from), I feel like my presence is also loud; now it seems obvious to me that the culture I was raised in was not Chinese. That’s why I joined AASI— to find a community of people who also struggle to find a balance between being Asian and American.

I got into AASI when I realized there was more to me than the spaces I was in… I found myself in predominantly white spaces on campus, and the only POC/non-white/non-Western space on campus I was a part of was the MSA (Muslim Student Association). Some MSA members I looked up to were in AASI and I decided to check it out. I soon realized that I wasn’t giving myself or my background the due diligence and respect it deserved by staying in those predominately white spaces without exploring my identity.

Growing up, especially with a single mom, I just felt guilty a lot. Because my grandma would always tell me, ‘Yo, your mom worked so hard for you kids and your dad isn't around so it's really hard on her.’ I guess I just always felt like it was my job... or like I owed it to her to take care of her as she got older. Especially since my mom took care of my grandma. I guess the pressure did affect what I majored in, but I don't know if I would have majored in anything different had the pressure not been there, just because, like, I've always been a good student... up to high school I've always been a straight-A student, my entire life, basically. And all my friends were straight A students, or close. I just didn't want to major in a ‘useless’ major, like art, or something, because I would embarrass myself and my family. But my parents were never against me majoring in art or anything. They never forced me into any major. I just felt that I didn't want to do anything that wouldn't make me a ‘productive’ member of society, I guess. Part of the pressure is from my family, but it's also just societal pressure in general