Breaking Asian-Americans the Mold

Very few Harvard students can claim that they formed a one-two offensive punch with Rasham Salaam, Colorado's star tailback, recently voted by sportswriters as the best college football player in the country.

Larry W. Cheng '96 can.

Cheng lived through the ultimate sports fantasy when he teamed with Salaam to lead La Jolla Country Day School to the California state football championship. Along the way, as a split end, Cheng had 25 catches with 10 touchdowns, averaging a whopping 35 yards per catch.

According to Cheng, who is 6 feet tall and Weighs 180 pounds, the game plan for California's highest rated high school offense in 1990 was to give it to Salaam, and then occasionally air it out to Cheng, streaking down the sidelines.

The strategy worked to perfection. La Jolla once ran up a 45 point lead in the first quarter against a hapless opposition, prompting the other team to quit after just 15 minutes.

Even the least inclined sports fan may take note of one curious detail about this offensive combination--the second half of this dynamic duo is Asian.

It is an understatement to say that it is a rare to find Asian-Americans who excel on the football field. Most sports fans would be hard-pressed to name even one Asian in the NFL. Yet Cheng said he never noticed he was a bit of a pioneer, breaking Asian stereotypes on the football field, until his senior year when his government teacher discussed stereotypes and discrimination with him and a Korean friend.

"We happened to be talking about racism and stereotypes when she pointed out to us that Robert and I were breaking stereotypes by being atypical Asians in that we were athletic, sociable, etc," Cheng recalls.

Cheng's friend was a bodybuilder, while Cheng garnered All-City honors in football, basketball and track.

At Harvard, Cheng is part of a recent surge in Asians in campus leadership positions who are continuing to break down the stereotypes that have plagued all Asian-Americans.

"When people think of Asians, inevitably labels like `wallflower,' `math-science nerd,' and `good citizen' come up," said Alex H. Cho, former president of Harvard's Asian-Americans Association.

Cheng was elected last fall as the first-ever Asian-American president of Harvard Student Agencies.

In a tinge of irony or perhaps clairvoyance, Salaam nicknamed his high school teammate, "money."

"He called me that because whenever they threw me the ball, it was a sure thing that I wouldn't drop it," Cheng says.

While Salaam has gone on to fame and future fortune in the NFL, Cheng's future does not look too shabby either.

As president of HSA, Harvard's multi-million dollar student-run for profit corporation--the world's largest-- Cheng has set himself up well for future employment in the business world. Past HSA managers have gone on to the nation's top business graduate schools and to work in Fortune 500 companies. Presidents of HSA are virtually guaranteed admission to the prestigious Harvard Business School.

For the first time, Cheng has begun to consciously think about his ethnic identity.

"When I came here, I really for the first time became Asian," Cheng said last week in an interview in Church Street HSA's office.

Cheng says he really became conscious of his ethnicity when he first addressed HSA's board of directors, composed of Harvard administrators and past HSA alumni.

"There are no Asians on our board," Cheng says. "At first, it made me a little uncomfortable."

Some say the increase of Asian-Americans in campus leadership positions may indicate a penetration into traditionally non-Asian arenas.

In addition to Cheng, the new president of the Phillips Brooks House Association, the new publisher of Perspective, and the new business manager of The Crimson are Asian, as well as are the outgoing treasurer of the Undergraduate Council and editor-in-chief of the Harvard Political Review.

This has prompted some to hail the end, at least at Harvard, of the so-called glass-ceiling that has held back many Asians from management and leadership positions in the real world.

But Cho cautions these optimists.

"While the growth of the number of Asian-Americans occupying campus leadership positions is something to comment on, perhaps one shouldn't get ahead of oneself necessarily in hailing the end of the glass ceiling," Cho says.

Cho says Harvard is in no way the real world, where he believes discrimination is still rampant.

"I think a lot of people, when they get out of here, will be disappointed when they are discriminated against," Cho says.

According to Cho, a number of factors have contributed to the increase of Asians in leadership positions, including the fact that Asian-Americans make up more than 20 percent of the student body.

Cho also notes that there is still "an almost universal assumption, both facetious, and then again not, of Asian=premed and therefore in premed related activities."

Asian=Premed

Almost all of the new Asian leaders say they have experienced a pressure caused by the choice of so many of their Asian-American peers to study medicine.

Sarah S. Song '96, the new publisher of Perspective, Harvard's liberal monthly, says she has felt torn between the pressure to go into medicine, versus branching out and doing something less conventional.

Song is far from the "wallflower" image whichCho says has dogged many Asian-Americans. In aphone interview last week she reflected upon thecourse of her life since emigrating from Korea in1980.

Since attending the Radcliffe Summer Program inScience her junior year of high school, Song'sfuture in the sciences seemed to be clear. Shecame to Harvard thinking that she wouldconcentrate in biochemistry. She followed theusual pre-med path during her first year, takingChem 10 and 20, classes which aredisproportionately Asian.

Like others interviewed, Song has felt apressure from her parents to pursue a path in thesciences--a track which seems to offer greatersecurity.

"I feel I owe a lot to my parents," says Song."They sacrificed so much by coming here."

In fact, the feeling of indebtedness to parentsfor their sacrifices in emigrating has pressuredmany Asian-Americans, as well as members of otherimmigrant groups, to succeed.

Some of the leaders interviewed portrayed thestereotypical Asian childhood as one dominated bythe image of the devoted, often overbearing,parent who emphasizes hardwork and education.

Song says that since her youth her parents haveimpressed upon her their belief that "knowledge ispower."

"Starting in first grade, my parents brought meto the library every week, and I checked out 20books," Song says.

Students say this parental guidance oftencontinues into high school in the form of SAT prepclasses and later with college applications.

Cheng says he was forced to go to SAT prepclasses as early as 8th grade.

"My brother used to get upset at how somepeople said the SAT was biased towards Asians andCaucasians," Cheng says. "He said, `It's notbiased! We just work hard. We're at those SATclasses in 8th grade.'"

Cheng also says he observes a competitivestreak in some Asian parents that leads them toforce their children to piano competitions, applyfor elite colleges and strive for other standardsof excellence.

"Asian parents don't want you to be good atsomething just to be good," Cheng says. "They wantyou to be good so you can compete."

Cho acknowledges that the wishes of his parentslie heavily on his mind as he pursues a career inmedicine. He speaks with a little bitterness ofthe hard life his parents have been forced toendure in coming to a foreign land.

"It's pretty tragic," Cho says, referring tohow his father, although educated with a master'sdegree in economics in China, became a graphicsartist to support his family after emigrating.

"My father really wants me to go into medicine.He's given too much in absolute terms for me. Itseems like a pentultimate wish," Cho says. "It'dbe too cold not to honor that wish."

Other Asian-American children say the sufferingtheir parents endured in emigrating often causesthem to pressure their children to findfinancially secure jobs in medicine andengineering.

But Song says she has felt a need to go againstthe grain.

"I had this feeling that biochemistry was `tooAsian,'" Song says.

She remembers one particular night during herfirst year, before a major chemistry exam, as aturning point in her life.

"It was the night before Perspective went topress," Song recalls. "I ended up spending most ofthe night at Perspective discussing an articlethat I wrote and various ideas. I realized thatthis what I wanted to get out of Harvard. I wantedto question ideas. I didn't want to memorizeformulas."

Duty to Race

Song went on to concentrate in Social Studies,but is still considering the possibility ofmedical school. She says she feels a very realduty to her race to perhaps pursue somethingdifferent, specifically, graduate school in ethnicstudies, where she could perhaps effect change forAsian-Americans.

"I think whether or not you want thatresponsibility, you have it," Song says. "Nomatter where you go, you have an Asian face."

Song recalls growing up in mostly rural areaswhere there will very few Asians. Song says thateven at such a young age, she felt a need torepresent her race well.

"I felt a need to make a good impressionbecause for a lot of the people I met, I was thefirst Asian that they had ever encountered," Songsays.

Cho says he agrees with Song, but adds that allAsians who attain positions of influence, have acertain duty to aid their fellow Asians.

"I think Asian-Americans are linked by a commondiscrimination and have a duty wherever possibleto fight that," Cho says.

Vincent Pan '96, the new president of PhillipsBrooks House Association, says he understandsfirst hand the importance of being an Asian rolemodel because of his active role in PBH's MissionHill program, where Pan says he worked withpredominantly Puerto Rican and African-Americanchildren, many of whom had never seen an Asianbefore.

"I tended to focus on things that wouldtranscend race," Pan says. "But it is important tobe conscious of race when someone has never seenany Asians and their only images are from Saturdayafternoon Kung Fu movies."

Jay Kim '95, who is a Crimson editor and theoutgoing Treasurer of the Undergraduate Council,could perhaps become one of a new generation ofAsians in politics who could affect change forAsian-Americans. But Kim says that in hisexperience, it is not to his advantage toemphasize his ethnicity in politics.

"Personally, I've found when I've been involvedin politics, it's not to my advantage to emphasizeethnicity issues," Kim says. "For example, in theCouncil, I don't represent just Asians. Irepresent Eliot House."

But he adds that as an Asian-American, he isendowed with a unique perspective that others maynot have.

"I bring to the table a unique experience thatother people don't," Kim says.

Kim notes that of the six Asian-Americans inCongress, none portray themselves as ethnicpoliticians, like some Black politicians havedone.

Charles S. Woo '95, editor-in-chief of theHarvard Political Review, explains that manyAsian-Americans have declined to carve out ethnicpolitical identities because Asian-Americans havenot been able to come together as an effectivepolitical coalition.

"We can't sway a national election likeAfrican-Americans can," Woo says.

But the lack of Asians in politics has notdaunted Kim, a government concentrator, who sayshe has always been interested in politics,although he did score a perfect 800 on the mathportion of the SAT.

"We need more people that are involved inpolitics and business," Kim says. "The only wayyou get rid of stereotypes is by actuallydiversifying."

Sweeping Generalizations

But all of the new leaders caution againstmaking sweeping generalizations about theAsian-American experience.

"Being Asian-American is not some monolithicexperience, although there are certaincommonalities," Song says. "We really need toquestion stereotypes and be very vigilant abouthow much they control our lives."

The danger is the possibility of being limitedby the stereotypes placed on Asians, some say.

"I'm sure there are a lot of Asians who couldsucceed in a lot of different fields but don'tbecause of perceptions of Asians," Cheng says."There could be some great Asian rock star outthere that we don't know about and never will."CrimsonGabriel B. Eber

Song is far from the "wallflower" image whichCho says has dogged many Asian-Americans. In aphone interview last week she reflected upon thecourse of her life since emigrating from Korea in1980.

Since attending the Radcliffe Summer Program inScience her junior year of high school, Song'sfuture in the sciences seemed to be clear. Shecame to Harvard thinking that she wouldconcentrate in biochemistry. She followed theusual pre-med path during her first year, takingChem 10 and 20, classes which aredisproportionately Asian.

Like others interviewed, Song has felt apressure from her parents to pursue a path in thesciences--a track which seems to offer greatersecurity.

"I feel I owe a lot to my parents," says Song."They sacrificed so much by coming here."

In fact, the feeling of indebtedness to parentsfor their sacrifices in emigrating has pressuredmany Asian-Americans, as well as members of otherimmigrant groups, to succeed.

Some of the leaders interviewed portrayed thestereotypical Asian childhood as one dominated bythe image of the devoted, often overbearing,parent who emphasizes hardwork and education.

Song says that since her youth her parents haveimpressed upon her their belief that "knowledge ispower."

"Starting in first grade, my parents brought meto the library every week, and I checked out 20books," Song says.

Students say this parental guidance oftencontinues into high school in the form of SAT prepclasses and later with college applications.

Cheng says he was forced to go to SAT prepclasses as early as 8th grade.

"My brother used to get upset at how somepeople said the SAT was biased towards Asians andCaucasians," Cheng says. "He said, `It's notbiased! We just work hard. We're at those SATclasses in 8th grade.'"

Cheng also says he observes a competitivestreak in some Asian parents that leads them toforce their children to piano competitions, applyfor elite colleges and strive for other standardsof excellence.

"Asian parents don't want you to be good atsomething just to be good," Cheng says. "They wantyou to be good so you can compete."

Cho acknowledges that the wishes of his parentslie heavily on his mind as he pursues a career inmedicine. He speaks with a little bitterness ofthe hard life his parents have been forced toendure in coming to a foreign land.

"It's pretty tragic," Cho says, referring tohow his father, although educated with a master'sdegree in economics in China, became a graphicsartist to support his family after emigrating.

"My father really wants me to go into medicine.He's given too much in absolute terms for me. Itseems like a pentultimate wish," Cho says. "It'dbe too cold not to honor that wish."

Other Asian-American children say the sufferingtheir parents endured in emigrating often causesthem to pressure their children to findfinancially secure jobs in medicine andengineering.

But Song says she has felt a need to go againstthe grain.

"I had this feeling that biochemistry was `tooAsian,'" Song says.

She remembers one particular night during herfirst year, before a major chemistry exam, as aturning point in her life.

"It was the night before Perspective went topress," Song recalls. "I ended up spending most ofthe night at Perspective discussing an articlethat I wrote and various ideas. I realized thatthis what I wanted to get out of Harvard. I wantedto question ideas. I didn't want to memorizeformulas."

Duty to Race

Song went on to concentrate in Social Studies,but is still considering the possibility ofmedical school. She says she feels a very realduty to her race to perhaps pursue somethingdifferent, specifically, graduate school in ethnicstudies, where she could perhaps effect change forAsian-Americans.

"I think whether or not you want thatresponsibility, you have it," Song says. "Nomatter where you go, you have an Asian face."

Song recalls growing up in mostly rural areaswhere there will very few Asians. Song says thateven at such a young age, she felt a need torepresent her race well.

"I felt a need to make a good impressionbecause for a lot of the people I met, I was thefirst Asian that they had ever encountered," Songsays.

Cho says he agrees with Song, but adds that allAsians who attain positions of influence, have acertain duty to aid their fellow Asians.

"I think Asian-Americans are linked by a commondiscrimination and have a duty wherever possibleto fight that," Cho says.

Vincent Pan '96, the new president of PhillipsBrooks House Association, says he understandsfirst hand the importance of being an Asian rolemodel because of his active role in PBH's MissionHill program, where Pan says he worked withpredominantly Puerto Rican and African-Americanchildren, many of whom had never seen an Asianbefore.

"I tended to focus on things that wouldtranscend race," Pan says. "But it is important tobe conscious of race when someone has never seenany Asians and their only images are from Saturdayafternoon Kung Fu movies."

Jay Kim '95, who is a Crimson editor and theoutgoing Treasurer of the Undergraduate Council,could perhaps become one of a new generation ofAsians in politics who could affect change forAsian-Americans. But Kim says that in hisexperience, it is not to his advantage toemphasize his ethnicity in politics.

"Personally, I've found when I've been involvedin politics, it's not to my advantage to emphasizeethnicity issues," Kim says. "For example, in theCouncil, I don't represent just Asians. Irepresent Eliot House."

But he adds that as an Asian-American, he isendowed with a unique perspective that others maynot have.

"I bring to the table a unique experience thatother people don't," Kim says.

Kim notes that of the six Asian-Americans inCongress, none portray themselves as ethnicpoliticians, like some Black politicians havedone.

Charles S. Woo '95, editor-in-chief of theHarvard Political Review, explains that manyAsian-Americans have declined to carve out ethnicpolitical identities because Asian-Americans havenot been able to come together as an effectivepolitical coalition.

"We can't sway a national election likeAfrican-Americans can," Woo says.

But the lack of Asians in politics has notdaunted Kim, a government concentrator, who sayshe has always been interested in politics,although he did score a perfect 800 on the mathportion of the SAT.

"We need more people that are involved inpolitics and business," Kim says. "The only wayyou get rid of stereotypes is by actuallydiversifying."

Sweeping Generalizations

But all of the new leaders caution againstmaking sweeping generalizations about theAsian-American experience.

"Being Asian-American is not some monolithicexperience, although there are certaincommonalities," Song says. "We really need toquestion stereotypes and be very vigilant abouthow much they control our lives."

The danger is the possibility of being limitedby the stereotypes placed on Asians, some say.

"I'm sure there are a lot of Asians who couldsucceed in a lot of different fields but don'tbecause of perceptions of Asians," Cheng says."There could be some great Asian rock star outthere that we don't know about and never will."CrimsonGabriel B. Eber