Minor Feelings

Minor Feelings Plot Summary

Introduction

Minor feelings, a concept central to the exploration of racial experiences in America, emerges from the discrepancy between how Asian Americans see themselves and how they are perceived by society. These feelings—including shame, suspicion, melancholy, and paranoia—arise when American optimism contradicts one's lived reality, creating cognitive dissonance that challenges fundamental assumptions about identity and belonging. When racial stereotypes become embedded in our understanding of ourselves, these feelings intensify, producing a state of mind where we constantly question our perceptions, sanity, and worth. Through personal narratives woven with cultural criticism, historical analysis, and philosophical inquiry, we gain insight into how minor feelings operate in daily life. This intimate approach reveals the psychological burden of existing in the uncomfortable space between America's binary racial categorization, where Asian Americans are neither considered white enough nor seen as facing enough discrimination to warrant attention. By excavating these often-dismissed emotional states, we come to recognize how racial trauma manifests not just in dramatic incidents but in everyday microaggressions, cultural erasure, and the persistent questioning of one's perceptions. The resulting analysis offers both a framework for understanding marginalized experiences and a challenge to prevailing narratives about racial progress in America.

Chapter 1: The Conditional Existence: Understanding Asian American Identity

Asian American identity exists in a peculiar state of conditional belonging in the United States. This conditionality stems from being perpetually seen as foreigners regardless of how many generations one's family has lived in America. The persistent question "Where are you really from?" illustrates this paradox—Asian Americans are simultaneously visible as racial others yet invisible in discussions about race, which often center on a black-white binary that leaves little room for more complex racial dynamics. This conditional existence manifests through what might be called racial triangulation, wherein Asian Americans are valorized as "model minorities" in relation to other racial groups, yet perpetually excluded from being considered fully American. The model minority myth serves to both praise Asian Americans for their supposed success while using this narrative to undermine other minority groups' claims of discrimination. This positioning has complex psychological consequences, creating a persistent sense of being caught between worlds—neither white enough for full acceptance nor marginalized enough to have their struggles recognized. Throughout history, Asian American identity has been defined more by exclusion than inclusion. From the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 to Japanese internment during World War II to contemporary stereotypes about perpetual foreignness, legal structures and cultural narratives have consistently reinforced Asian Americans' status as provisional citizens. This legacy creates what can be described as a particular form of double consciousness—an awareness of how one is perceived that constantly intrudes upon how one perceives oneself. The result is a fractured sense of self that manifests in various coping mechanisms: excessive achievement to prove belonging, self-effacement to avoid drawing attention, or strategic assimilation that requires suppressing cultural differences. These strategies reflect a fundamental understanding that acceptance is always conditional, contingent on performing a particular kind of racial identity that doesn't threaten the existing social order. Language plays a critical role in this conditional existence. Many Asian Americans experience linguistic insecurity—facing mockery for their accents or their parents' English, while simultaneously feeling disconnected from their heritage languages. This linguistic in-betweenness mirrors the broader cultural liminality that characterizes the Asian American experience, creating a sense of never fully belonging anywhere. The recognition of this conditional existence represents not just a personal revelation but a political awakening. By naming this condition, Asian Americans can begin to resist the terms of their acceptance and forge identities based not on external expectations but on their own complex realities. This recognition forms the foundation for solidarity both within diverse Asian American communities and with other marginalized groups who experience different but related forms of conditional belonging.

Chapter 2: Racial Consciousness: From Internalized Shame to Critical Awareness

Racial consciousness for Asian Americans often begins with shame—shame about physical appearance, cultural practices, food, language, and family. This internalized shame reflects the absorption of societal messages that frame difference as deficiency. For many Asian Americans, early experiences involve painful recognition of how others perceive them: as perpetual foreigners, as model minorities expected to remain silent and compliant, or as exotic others. These perceptions create a dissociative effect where one sees oneself through the lens of white America. The journey from internalized shame to critical awareness typically involves recognizing the gap between one's lived experience and dominant narratives about Asian American success. This recognition often occurs through what might be called "racial crashes"—moments when the illusion of acceptance shatters against undeniable evidence of exclusion or discrimination. These crashes force a confrontation with reality that proves both painful and illuminating, revealing how deeply one has invested in myths of meritocracy and colorblindness. Critical racial consciousness requires understanding how seemingly personal experiences connect to broader historical patterns. Learning about histories of Asian exclusion laws, internment camps, imperialist wars in Asia, and labor exploitation provides context for contemporary experiences of discrimination. This historical awareness reveals how current stereotypes—from the perpetual foreigner to the model minority—are not accidental but serve specific political functions in maintaining racial hierarchies in America. The development of racial consciousness also involves confronting the complexity of Asian American positionality in America's racial landscape. This includes recognizing complicity in anti-Blackness and other forms of racism, as well as understanding how the model minority myth has been weaponized against other communities of color. This recognition creates opportunities for solidarity based not on shared victimhood but on a commitment to challenging systems that create hierarchies of human value. Language plays a crucial role in developing critical racial consciousness. Finding words to name experiences previously dismissed as personal shortcomings or individual misunderstandings transforms private suffering into political understanding. The ability to articulate experiences of racial microaggressions, stereotyping, and erasure makes it possible to connect individual experiences to structural inequities and to build communities based on shared understanding. Ultimately, the journey from internalized shame to critical awareness represents not just a psychological transformation but a political one. By rejecting the terms of conditional acceptance and refusing to internalize racist narratives, Asian Americans can begin to create identities based not on proximity to whiteness but on authentic engagement with their complex histories and present realities. This critical consciousness provides the foundation for both personal healing and collective action against systems of racial inequality.

Chapter 3: Language as Power: Navigating English and Cultural Belonging

Language serves as both a barrier and a bridge for Asian Americans navigating multiple cultural worlds. For immigrants and their children, English acquisition represents more than practical necessity—it becomes a measure of belonging, a marker of assimilation, and often a source of intergenerational tension. The pressure to speak "perfect" English creates a particular anxiety where accent, vocabulary, and grammar become sites of potential exposure, revealing one's status as perpetually foreign regardless of actual citizenship or birthplace. For many Asian Americans, language represents a complex inheritance. Those who grow up speaking Asian languages at home often experience a linguistic double consciousness—switching between languages and corresponding cultural codes depending on context. This code-switching ability can be a source of cultural richness but also creates fractures in identity formation. Many describe the painful experience of losing fluency in heritage languages as English dominance increases, creating communication barriers with family members and a sense of cultural loss that cannot be fully articulated in either language. Language becomes particularly charged in the context of racial microaggressions. Comments like "You speak English so well" or expressions of surprise at English fluency from American-born Asians reveal underlying assumptions about who counts as "really" American. These interactions force Asian Americans to constantly justify their linguistic belonging, creating a persistent awareness of being perceived as foreign regardless of actual biography or citizenship status. The experience of having parents with limited English proficiency shapes many Asian Americans' relationship to language and power. Many describe the burden of linguistic brokering—translating for parents in medical, legal, or educational settings from a young age. This responsibility reverses traditional parent-child dynamics and exposes children to adult concerns prematurely. It also creates a complicated relationship to institutional power, as children must navigate systems not designed for linguistic diversity while protecting their parents from discrimination. English mastery represents a double-edged sword for many Asian Americans. While fluency offers access to educational and professional opportunities, it also becomes a tool for distance—from family, from cultural heritage, and from other Asian Americans perceived as less assimilated. The pressure to speak "unaccented" English reflects internalized beliefs about cultural hierarchy, where proximity to whiteness (through language) represents success. This creates a painful dynamic where linguistic "achievement" often comes at the cost of cultural connection. The reclaiming of linguistic identity represents an important site of resistance for many Asian Americans. This might involve relearning heritage languages, embracing linguistic hybridity, or refusing to apologize for accents or code-switching. By rejecting the premise that standard American English represents the only legitimate form of expression, Asian Americans can challenge the linguistic hierarchies that reinforce racial marginalization. This linguistic reclamation becomes not just personal but political—a refusal of the terms of conditional belonging that demand linguistic assimilation as the price of acceptance.

Chapter 4: Art as Resistance: Asian American Creative Expression

Asian American creative expression emerges from the tension between representation and resistance. In a cultural landscape where Asian Americans have historically been rendered either invisible or hypervisible through stereotypes, art becomes a crucial space for asserting complex subjectivity. This creative work confronts a double bind: the pressure to create "authentic" expressions of Asian experience that simultaneously translate that experience for a white audience without reinforcing exoticism or otherness. The history of Asian American arts movements reveals persistent struggles over visibility and voice. From early literary anthologies like "Aiiieeeee!" to contemporary interdisciplinary work, Asian American artists have grappled with questions of aesthetic autonomy. Who are they creating for? Must their work always engage with identity? Can they create art that doesn't explain or translate their experience for white audiences? These questions reflect broader tensions about conditional belonging in American culture—the sense that Asian American artists must justify their presence through work that educates rather than simply expresses. Form becomes particularly significant in Asian American creative expression. Many artists describe the limitations of conventional Western artistic forms for capturing experiences of migration, displacement, and linguistic hybridity. This has led to formal innovation—experimental poetry that disrupts English syntax, visual art that incorporates multiple cultural references, films that reject linear narrative in favor of fragmented storytelling. These formal interventions reflect not just aesthetic choices but political ones, challenging Western artistic conventions that reinforce racial hierarchies. Intergenerational trauma emerges as a central theme in Asian American creative work. Artists frequently explore how historical events—from war and colonization to exclusion and internment—continue to shape contemporary experiences even when not directly discussed within families. This exploration of inherited trauma creates space for naming experiences that might otherwise remain unacknowledged, transforming private suffering into shared understanding. Art becomes a means of witnessing historical injuries that continue to structure present realities. The burden of representation weighs heavily on Asian American artists. In a cultural landscape where Asian American stories remain underrepresented, each work is often expected to represent "the" Asian American experience rather than a particular perspective. This creates pressure to produce work that is "universally" accessible while simultaneously "authentically" Asian American—a contradictory demand that reveals underlying assumptions about who constitutes the default audience for art. Many artists describe the struggle to create work free from these expectations, to claim aesthetic freedom without divorcing their work from community contexts. Contemporary Asian American creative expression increasingly embraces multiplicity and contradiction. Rather than presenting unified narratives of identity, many artists explore the messiness of belonging to multiple cultural worlds. This reflects a political understanding that simplistic representations of identity often serve to contain rather than liberate. By creating work that resists easy categorization—that is neither "about" identity in simplistic ways nor divorced from social context—Asian American artists challenge the terms of conditional belonging that demand either assimilation or performance of difference.

Chapter 5: The Model Minority Myth: Deconstructing a Harmful Narrative

The model minority myth positions Asian Americans as the exemplary racial group—hardworking, academically successful, economically self-sufficient, and politically compliant. This seemingly positive stereotype masks its actual function: to reinforce racial hierarchy while denying systemic racism. By attributing Asian American "success" to cultural values and work ethic rather than structural factors, the myth implies that other racial groups could overcome discrimination through similar behavior, effectively blaming them for their marginalization. This narrative emerged in specific historical and political contexts. During the Civil Rights era, white media and politicians began praising Japanese and Chinese Americans for their supposed ability to overcome discrimination through hard work, strong family values, and respect for authority. This selective celebration served to counter Black liberation movements by suggesting that racism wasn't a significant barrier to success. The myth functioned—and continues to function—as a racial wedge, pitting minority groups against each other while preserving white dominance. Beyond its political function, the model minority myth creates significant psychological harm for Asian Americans themselves. By establishing narrow parameters for "appropriate" Asian American behavior and achievement, it creates intense pressure to conform to stereotypes of academic and professional success. This pressure contributes to mental health crises among Asian American youth, who report high rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide. The myth's emphasis on achievement without complaint creates a culture of silence around mental health struggles, making it difficult to acknowledge suffering or seek help. The myth also masks significant diversity and inequality within Asian American communities. By focusing on certain East Asian groups with higher socioeconomic indicators, it renders invisible the experiences of Southeast Asian refugees, undocumented Asian immigrants, and working-class Asian Americans who face significant economic challenges. The dramatic income inequality within Asian American populations—the highest of any racial group in America—contradicts the myth's premise of uniform success, revealing how it flattens complex realities into a convenient political narrative. For many Asian Americans, the model minority myth creates a painful double consciousness—awareness that positive stereotypes about intelligence or diligence are still reductions of full humanity. These "positive" stereotypes often translate into workplace discrimination, where Asian Americans are seen as technically competent but lacking leadership qualities, creating a "bamboo ceiling" that limits advancement. The myth's emphasis on compliance and deference reinforces assumptions that Asian Americans will not challenge racism, creating pressure to remain silent in the face of discrimination. Deconstructing the model minority myth requires recognizing its function within America's racial politics. Rather than simply rejecting positive stereotypes, this deconstruction involves understanding how the myth serves to maintain racial hierarchies while limiting solidarity between marginalized groups. By recognizing the myth as a political tool rather than a cultural reality, Asian Americans can begin to forge identities and political alliances based not on proximity to whiteness but on commitments to racial justice that challenge the very premise of racial hierarchy.

Chapter 6: Solidarity Beyond Borders: Building Interracial Coalitions

Building meaningful solidarity across racial lines requires confronting histories of both oppression and complicity. For Asian Americans, this means acknowledging both the violence directed against their communities and the ways Asian Americans have been positioned as buffers in America's racial hierarchy. True solidarity emerges not from claims of equivalent suffering but from recognition of different positionalities within systems of power—and a commitment to challenging those systems rather than seeking individual advancement within them. Historical examples of Asian American solidarity with other racial justice movements offer important precedents. From Yuri Kochiyama's work with Malcolm X to Asian Americans who participated in the Third World Liberation Front strikes of the late 1960s, these histories challenge narratives of Asian political passivity. These examples demonstrate how solidarity emerges not from abstract principles but from specific relationships and shared struggles. They also reveal how coalition-building requires confronting tensions and contradictions rather than papering over differences. Contemporary solidarity requires moving beyond symbolic gestures toward material commitments. This means confronting anti-Blackness within Asian communities, challenging immigration policies that harm Latinx communities, and supporting Indigenous sovereignty movements. It means recognizing how the model minority myth has been weaponized against other communities of color and actively rejecting the conditional acceptance offered to Asian Americans in exchange for complicity in racial hierarchy. This rejection represents not sacrifice but recognition of shared interests in dismantling systems that devalue all non-white lives, albeit in different ways. Asian American identity itself emerged from coalition-building. The term was coined by activists in the late 1960s who sought to create political unity among diverse Asian ethnic groups previously separated by national origin. This history reminds us that solidarity is not about erasing difference but about creating political community across difference. It also challenges essentialist notions of identity, revealing how racial categories themselves are products of political struggle rather than natural divisions. Transnational solidarity connects domestic racial justice movements to global struggles against imperialism, militarism, and economic exploitation. For many Asian Americans, this means recognizing connections between U.S. foreign policy in Asia and domestic racial formations. It means understanding how immigration patterns reflect histories of U.S. military intervention, economic domination, and political manipulation in Asian countries. This transnational framework challenges nationalist narratives about Asian American "success" by contextualizing migration within global power relations. Building effective coalitions requires creating new political vocabularies and practices. Rather than positioning solidarity as charity or allyship—frameworks that often reinforce existing power relations—it requires developing mutual accountability across different social positions. This means creating political spaces where leadership comes from those most directly affected by specific issues while recognizing interconnections between different struggles. It means moving beyond liberal multiculturalism toward deeper analysis of structural power and a commitment to transforming those structures rather than simply diversifying who benefits from them.

Chapter 7: From Historical Trauma to Political Awakening

Historical trauma shapes Asian American consciousness in profound ways, even when not directly acknowledged. From exclusion laws and internment camps to wars in Asia and ongoing hate violence, these collective wounds create what might be called a racial unconscious—patterns of behavior, emotion, and thought that reflect historical injuries even when those injuries remain unnamed. This transmission of trauma across generations manifests in various ways: hypervigilance in public spaces, intense pressure for achievement as security, reluctance to draw attention to oneself, and ambivalence about claiming American identity. The silence surrounding historical trauma compounds its effects. Many Asian immigrant families avoid discussing painful histories, creating what family systems theorists call "knowledge that cannot be known"—experiences that shape family dynamics without being explicitly acknowledged. This silence often reflects cultural values around stoicism and moving forward, but it also responds to American expectations that immigrants demonstrate gratitude rather than grievance. The resulting gaps in intergenerational knowledge create confusion and isolation, as younger generations sense but cannot name the historical forces shaping their experience. Naming historical trauma represents an essential step toward healing. This naming often occurs through encounters with formal education, art, literature, or community spaces where suppressed histories become speakable. Many Asian Americans describe these encounters as revelatory—suddenly making sense of family patterns, personal insecurities, or persistent discomfort in American society. This recognition transforms private suffering into historical understanding, connecting individual experience to collective contexts and creating possibilities for solidarity based on shared histories. Political awakening emerges from this historical consciousness. By understanding how contemporary experiences of discrimination connect to longer histories of exclusion, exploitation, and violence, Asian Americans can move beyond individualized responses toward collective action. This shift from seeing racism as personal misfortune to understanding it as structural injustice creates the foundation for political engagement. It transforms shame into righteous anger, isolation into community, and compliance into resistance. Contemporary events continue to trigger historical trauma while creating new possibilities for political consciousness. Incidents of anti-Asian violence, xenophobic political rhetoric, and scapegoating during national crises reveal the conditional nature of Asian American belonging in the United States. These incidents demonstrate how quickly acceptance can transform into exclusion, regardless of citizenship status, educational achievement, or economic contribution. At the same time, these moments create opportunities for coalition-building across generational, ethnic, and class lines within Asian American communities. The journey from historical trauma to political awakening represents not just psychological healing but a fundamental transformation in relationship to American society. Rather than seeking acceptance on existing terms—terms that require downplaying discrimination and demonstrating exceptional achievement—this awakening enables a more radical stance that questions the foundations of racial hierarchy itself. By refusing the conditions of conditional acceptance and demanding recognition of full humanity, this political consciousness creates possibilities for both personal liberation and collective transformation.

Summary

Minor feelings arise from the contradictions between how Asian Americans are perceived and how they perceive themselves in American society. These emotions—including shame, suspicion, and melancholy—persist precisely because they cannot be resolved within existing racial frameworks that perpetuate the myth of Asian Americans as model minorities while simultaneously marking them as perpetual foreigners. The exploration of these feelings reveals not just personal struggles but structural inequities that maintain racial hierarchies while offering conditional acceptance based on political compliance and proximity to whiteness. What emerges from this analysis is a profound challenge to conventional narratives about racial progress in America. By excavating the psychological consequences of existing in the uncomfortable space between hypervisibility and invisibility, we gain insight into how racial trauma manifests not just in dramatic incidents but in everyday experiences that chip away at one's sense of reality and belonging. This framework offers valuable tools for understanding the complex positioning of Asian Americans in America's racial landscape while creating possibilities for solidarity based not on shared victimhood but on shared commitment to challenging systems that assign differential value to human lives based on racial categories. Those seeking to understand the subtle mechanics of racial power in contemporary America will find in this examination both conceptual clarity and emotional resonance.

About Author

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Cathy Park Hong

Cathy Park Hong’s book of creative nonfiction, Minor Feelings, was published in Spring 2020 by One World/Random House (US) and Profile Books (UK). She is also the author of poetry collections Engine Empire, published in 2012 by W.W. Norton, Dance Dance Revolution, chosen by Adrienne Rich for the Barnard Women Poets Prize, and Translating Mo'um. Hong is the recipient of the Windham-Campbell Prize, the Guggenheim Fellowship, and a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship. Her poems have been published in Poetry, A Public Space, Paris Review, McSweeney's, Baffler, Yale Review, The Nation, and other journals. She is the poetry editor of the New Republic and is a professor at Rutgers-Newark University.

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