By Chloe Wang

A snapshot of the diversity of Asian American and Asian international students at USC:

Of the 2010 incoming class (freshmen and transfer students)…*

• 25% identify as Asian Pacific American

Of the incoming APAs…*

• 21% are first-generation college students
• 19% are multiracial/multiethnic
• 73% are from California
• Most of them identify as: Chinese (505 students), Korean (222), Indian (168), or Persian/Armenian/Southwest-Central Asian (143)
• Other ethnicities include: Other Asian (99), Japanese (98), Filipino (98), Vietnamese (69), Arab (40), Pacific Islander (27)

Top 5 Places of Origin of International Students**

1. India: 1,623 students
2. China (PRC): 1,428 students
3. South Korea: 735 students
4. Taiwan: 518 students
5. Canada: 289 students

Total international students: 6,585

*According to preliminary data collected by USC’s Asian Pacific American Student Services prior to the 2010-2011 school year

**Enrolled for the fall 2009 semester, according data from USC’s Office of International Services

By Michelle Banh

Chinese railroad workers line the Transcontinental Railroad, buried in snow. Roughly 3,000 Chinese were recruited to work on the railroad project, which started in 1865.

From as early as the mid-1800s, people from Asian countries have immigrated to the United States seeking better lives. With assurances of prosperity and opportunities abound, the U.S. has and continues to play the role of the promised land for many foreigners.

Filipinos expected just that when they settled in modern day Louisiana in the 1760s. Arriving by Spanish galleons – broad, multi-decked ships – that stopped in Mexican ports, these Asian pioneers deserted their maritime posts to make their way into America. Once settled, Filipinos began forming shrimping villages that have lasted to this day.

Roughly 80 years later, Chinese and Indian immigrants came to the U.S., though under extremely unsavory circumstances. With the abolition of the slave trade recently underway, British and Spanish colonialists were running short on African slaves. Before long, South China and India became the new “it” locations to find replacement laborers. These Chinese and Indian individuals were ultimately “recruited” to work at remote sugar and cotton plantations.

Approximately 250,000 Chinese and 500,000 Indians were transported to America under this new system of slavery.

It was not until 1848 that Asians voluntarily immigrated to the U.S. in significant numbers. Lured by the promise of wealth at “Gold Mountain” (a Chinese nickname for California during the Gold Rush), Chinese immigrants flocked to America in record numbers. While some became miners, others worked as smalltime merchants, gardeners, and domestics.

Then in 1865, the Transcontinental Railroad project revolutionized transportation and effectively established Asian social standing in America.

As the Union Pacific worked westward from Nebraska and the Central Pacific worked eastward from Sacramento, the two companies hired roughly 3,000 Chinese immigrants to take part. Although they worked strenuous hours – often without fair pay – and sacrificed a number of their lives in the process, the Chinese were ultimately left out of any celebrations when the railroad was complete.

Anti-Chinese sentiments came to a head in 1882 with the Chinese Exclusion Act, which stopped all immigration from China and denied citizenship to any Chinese already in the U.S.

Such were the beginnings of Asian immigration to America – not always positive, but definitive of the Asian American community today.

“When I read about how Asians used to be persecuted by Americans in history, I feel a sense of happiness that we have moved so far from that now that Americans can embrace being Asian,” said Jenny Liu, a USC freshman from Fremont, Calif.

Though the Asian American community has had its fair share of obstacles in immigrating to this country, its tremendous efforts to build and foster an Asian American identity from the ground up has forever impacted the millions of people living in America today.

By Chanel Hung

Vietnamese & Cambodian shrimpers at a meeting in Buras, La., for more information about the spill in May. Photo: Sean Gardner, Reuters

More than 1 million people fled Vietnam after the fall of Saigon at the end of the Vietnam War 35 years ago. Thousands died trying to escape the country via boat. Those who survived became refugees, most settling in North America, Europe and Australia.

The United States accepted 823,000 Vietnamese refugees who came to rebuild their lives.

In the face of struggles establishing a new life in a foreign land, Vietnamese Americans have rapidly built strong and resilient communities throughout the U.S.

One such community established itself in New Orleans.

Perhaps finding the tropical weather familiar to home, the Vietnamese found New Orleans a perfect place to settle. Even more, the Catholic community there sponsored many Vietnamese refugees following the Vietnam War. Most of the population became involved in the fishing and shrimping industries and through the years developed a thriving network that has come together, especially in the midst of disaster.

In Louisiana, there are about 25,000 Vietnamese Americans according to the New Orleans Tourism Marketing Corporation. Of those, 6,000 live in a concentrated area of New Orleans East. Roughly 80 percent of Vietnamese Americans in the Gulf region have ties to the fishing industry, whether it be as seafood restaurant owners, vendors, or fishermen.

These fishermen’s ties to the sea trace back to their roots, back to Vietnam, where many fishermen relied on the sea to fuel their livelihoods.

Hurricane Katrina ripped through the Gulf Coast in 2005, leaving the region devastated physically and financially.

A public housing neighborhood named Versailles is home to many Vietnamese Americans on the outskirts of New Orleans. In the wake of the damage incurred, the Vietnamese community congregated to rebuild its existence. With little government funding, the community reconstructed Versailles faster than other neighborhoods in New Orleans. Then, the local government attempted to implement a landfill harboring toxic waste from the nearby hurricane. The community rallied together to protest against the city’s will, forming one voice to save their neighborhood.

Now, Vietnamese Americans dependent on the Gulf of Mexico for survival face another crisis. The British Petroleum oil spill that started in April and gushed for three months has left many out of work and with many bills to pay.

This time, recovery is uncertain.

Many Vietnamese Americans have lost their jobs now that fishing zones are restricted and there is no work available. Fishers are bringing in less than half the yield normally produced in the Gulf waters. Without jobs, the Vietnamese American community struggles to pay off mortgages and bills.

“Entire livelihoods are affected, and there may not be an immediate recovery due to the environmental impacts of the spill,” said Mai Phan, a Vietnamese lawyer who works with the Vietnamese American Bar Association’s efforts to help the New Orleans community.

But while many need assistance, few actively seek it, quite possibly due to cultural norms. Vietnamese Americans are self-driven hard workers and have always managed to rebuild from scratch. It is no surprise that they are a proud people. Accepting government-sponsored assistance is equivalent to accepting charity in a community that deems accepting handouts a sign of weakness.

Meanwhile, the legal fight with BP is another battle all its own. The lengthy and complex legal documents that are supposed to offer compensation for damages have proven to be tedious and unhelpful.

Many Vietnamese Americans, especially the older generation, are not fluent in English. With such a strong community and knowledge about their trade, English isn’t a necessity. This language barrier has hindered Vietnamese Americans in pursuit of filing claims against BP to gain compensation. Moreover, BP offers only about half the amount of revenue these fishermen would be earning if the Gulf were clean and healthy.

A gloomy future lies ahead for Vietnamese Americans in the Gulf region. Until BP successfully cleans up the spill, disastrous environmental and economic implications remain for those who rely on the sea to maintain their livelihoods.

For such a strong and hardworking community, idleness and powerlessness during BP’s inaction is painful. There is no doubt, however, that the Vietnamese people will pull through the oil crisis and become stronger than ever.

By Tiffany Banh

USC senior Bruce Cabanayan discovered his Filipino culture here, after growing up in a small, predominantly white suburb of Phoenix, Ariz. Photo: Tiffany Banh

Bruce Cabanayan wasn’t hard to spot through the students crowded in the shade alongside Tommy Trojan.

The 20-year-old USC senior had donned a light blue polo and khaki shorts, sporting an outfit that embodied his put-together yet laid-back personality. After initial introductions, we hopped on our bikes and made our way to his house, charmingly enclosed by a white fence and cheery flowers.

Inside was no different. Cabanayan’s warmth radiated off the sand-colored walls and he was instantly at home.

In fact, he hadn’t always referred to Los Angeles as home until moving his life here four years ago to pursue a degree in biochemistry. Born in San Diego, Calif., Cabanayan and his family later relocated to Chandler, Ariz., a small suburb of Phoenix.

As an Asian American among a predominantly Caucasian population, Cabanayan occasionally felt the sparseness of the Asian community. Because of the large ratio of Caucasians to Asians, Cabanayan felt the students at his school formulated assumptions about him. He never thought the issue of ethnicity was an outright problem – just that there was something separating the Asian community from the rest.

“I was stereotyped or overlooked,” he said. “And they placed expectations on you that you’re quiet, which I definitely lived up to in a lot of aspects, but there is also so much more to me.”

But the culture clash disappeared when Cabanayan arrived at USC.

Here, he has been able to explore his Filipino roots through his involvement with Troy Philippines. TroyPhi is an organization that immerses university students in Filipino culture. Cabanayan has taken on various roles in TroyPhi, from acting at the forefront of its annual culture show as a freshman to coordinating the show as a sophomore to currently serving as president.

However, as a freshman, Cabanayan was baffled by the existence of a club just for Filipinos.

“Here, I was very much surprised by different aspects of the culture that I wasn’t used to,” Cabanayan said. “I didn’t know there was a whole club dedicated to bringing Filipinos together. So it was very different coming from Arizona just because of the composition of races.”

There was something of a lack of cultural roots growing up in Arizona. This void drove Cabanayan’s involvement with TroyPhi so that he became its president. Because of USC, he went from having little knowledge of to becoming the epitome of Filipino culture.

“It’s been a blessing that I got to come here and learn more about the culture,” he said.

Besides the cultural distinction between Arizona and Los Angeles, Cabanayan feels that another difference is the friendliness of Californians. When going home, he often finds that he must readjust back to Arizona’s traditionalist nature.

“Everyone in Arizona is more conservative. Coming here, everyone is hugging and everyone is loud. Just because I wasn’t used to it, the friendliness of everyone was almost overwhelming at first,” Cabanayan said.

His defining college memory is taking the stage as a freshman for TroyPhi’s culture show. The last time he had been on stage was when he played Peter Pan in elementary school. Playing the lead role reinvigorated his lost interest in acting.

To Cabanayan, being able to showcase his talent at Bovard Auditorium was an incredible sense of achievement. The experience sparked his initiative to declare a theatre minor.

When he’s not spending time on stage, Cabanayan is completing his studies in biochemistry. Coming from Arizona, where the educational climate wasn’t extremely competitive, he had the misconception that college wouldn’t be much different than high school. He soon found himself fighting to prove to his professors that he belonged alongside other top students.

Since he was in the Resident Honors Program, a program offered by USC for high school juniors to begin college a year early, he especially felt the pressure to measure up with his peers. But Cabanayan eventually realized overshadowing his peers was not most important.

“It’s more about being here to learn and challenging yourself,” he said.

As a senior preparing for graduation, Cabanayan entertains many possibilities for his future: Teach for America, medical school, social work, or even activism.

He has too many passions to stick to a particular line of work for too long. It’s likely he’ll find himself tackling any or even all of these possibilities. Regardless of what he decides to pursue, he knows that he will have the support of his family and friends.

“I want to keep a lot of options open. But it’s kind of scary right now because I don’t have a very set life. If anything, college has shown me that through hard times, you need to have those people to support you,” Cabanayan said.

Lessons well learned by a small town kid from Arizona turned big city dreamer.

By Nimisha Thakore

USC sophomore Maithreyi Shankar was part of a tight-knit Indian community in Burlington, Mass. She's realized now that being APA isn't about being Asian or American, but both. Photo: Nimisha Thakore

Maithreyi Shankar had an interesting problem growing up: she was an Indian American who felt left out of the Indian American crowd.

“I always felt like they were talking about me! I know it’s irrational, but it’s a feeling I always get. I wanted to be included in the community,” she said.

She’s talking about the community in Burlington, Mass., where she lived from the age of 5 until venturing cross-country to USC to study neuroscience (or maybe biomedical engineering, it’s still up in the air).

Burlington is a small town northwest of Boston that measures just less than 12 square miles and is home to 24,521 people, according to the city’s website. It is 80.6 percent white and 10.6 percent Asian/Pacific Islander. Shankar guesses of that Asian demographic, 10 to 20 percent is Indian.

Despite the largely Caucasian population, Shankar, an excitable 18-year-old sophomore, speaks of multicultural clubs, fairs and Asian American leadership programs at her high school. She even recalls the sometimes stuffy nature of an extremely close-knit Indian community. All things considered, Burlington is a lovely and diverse place to live.

“I liked living in the suburbs,” said Shankar of the safe area. “In April and May, we would walk around places… It made us feel independent.”

Shankar was born in Mumbai, India, and spent four years in Singapore before moving to the East Coast. Her South Indian family hails from the state of Tamil Nadu and speaks both Marathi and Hindi.

Many of the Indians in Burlington are Gujarati (originally from the state of Gujarat in North India), leading to language and interethnic barriers that Shankar felt kept her slightly outside their “very, very cohesive” community. A lot of immigrants weren’t interested in exploring American culture, while Shankar’s family enjoyed such “non-Indian” activities as hiking.

She is small, but her frame walls in a kind of energy that seems on the verge of exploding. Yet when Shankar talks about her experiences finding cultural connections in a cliquey high school environment, she waxes philosophical. She pushes back a drape of jet-black hair in a brief moment of silence when she’s searching for the right words.

“The way I really did culture was through dance and family, not the school. I didn’t like [all] the people. You don’t really want to be around that when you know you’re Indian enough,” she said.

Bharatnatyam, a classical Indian dance form based on Hinduism, helped shape Shankar’s Indian American identity. Because dance wasn’t something that came easily to her, she sweated over it for 13 years.

“It’s very physical, mental and spiritual… It was very core to developing as an Indian for me,” she said.

At USC, she has continued her passion for dance. Shankar is the founder of USC Drishti Classical Indian Dance and is in the process of getting the team recognized as a student organization. She is also involved with Undergraduate Residential Student Community, the Hindu Student Organization, and is coordinator of the DESI (Discovering and Enriching South Asian Issues) Project.

It wasn’t until she left the suburbia of Burlington that she realized being Indian American is not just about being a gung-ho desi or completely whitewashed.

“I realized there’s a spectrum of Indianness… I’ve come to terms with it. I have a better understanding of where I fall,” she said.

Shankar gestures animatedly with her hands as she speaks, especially when she delves into her freshman year wake-up call. She skipped her senior year of high school to come straight to USC with the Resident Honors Program. Shankar doubted USC’s ability to challenge her – but she was wrong.

“Things didn’t pan out completely according to plan. I think I was overconfident,” she said. “I thought I would ace everything and transfer.”

Instead, she had to work hard for good grades in her science classes. But as a reward, she found her place.

“Something connected when I got here,” she said, noting she didn’t have that in high school. “I like what I’m trying to accomplish, so there’s no reason to leave.”

In the next three years, Shankar wants to continue her involvement in various corners of campus to connect communities and build conversations. She then hopes to earn a Ph.D. and become a professor and entertains the idea of one day returning to Burlington.

“I love the Northeast for a lot of reasons,” she said. “It feels intellectual, the seasons [are] more in tune with reality… And I associate with the East Coast culture,” said Shankar.

And, after all, it has played at least some small part in making her who she is.

Shankar is nothing if not a free spirit. She’s carved out her own unconventional path from a northeast town known for Amy Poehler and a “ginormous mall” to an urban heavyweight like Los Angeles.

Her strikingly young age belies her introspection and self-confidence. She never wanted to be whiter, but she also never wanted to be more Indian. Shankar has what many children of immigrants struggle to find: peace of mind with her place on the spectrum.

“It’s how removed you want to be and how connected you want to be with your culture,” she said about finding one’s roots. “I’m Indian enough for me now.”

By Cherise Osaki

We asked immigrants and children of immigrants what they think of life here in the good ol’ US of A:

Why did you/your family decide to come to the U.S.?

“My family is similar to many families post-1965 who are beneficiaries of the Hart-Cellar immigration act which removed the rigid quotas for Asian immigration… My dad immigrated in 1969 to Vancouver to pursue his education.”

Sumun Pendakur, Director of USC’s Asian Pacific American Student Services
Family from Karnataka, India
U.S. hometown: Evanston, IL

“Originally I came to the states as a student, and after one year of studying at that university I got a scholarship to study at graduate school, so I came to USC, first to study, and after that I met my husband who is Japanese American from California, and I moved here to be with him.”

Masako Tamanaha, USC Assistant Professor of Japanese
Okinawa, Japan
U.S. hometown: Torrance, CA

What did you think of the U.S. before you moved here?

“I just imagined blonde people everywhere, like ‘Am I going to be the only Asian’?”

Jungwon Park, USC freshman
Seoul, South Korea
U.S. hometown: Arcadia, CA

“I thought most Americans were kind, patient, and honest.”

Wen Fang Pan, homemaker
People’s Republic of China (PRC)
U.S. Hometown: Sunnyvale, CA

How has your perception of the U.S. changed since you moved here?

“I was a 14-year-old child when I came here. My first impression was how big it was and how important individual rights were.”

Tina Tyner, homemaker
South Korea
U.S. hometown: San Diego, CA

“[I believed that] the U.S. was strong in economy & military force, advanced in science & technology, upholding Christian banner & healthy moral and family values, and was respected because of such status. Though most aspects are still true, her economy has weakened over the years for various reasons. The Christian heritage has also become an eyesore for many liberals and [is] consistently under attack by the media, thus, has corrupted the moral value of the society and weakened the family structures.”

W.T. Lin, Assistant at Scosche Industries
Taipei, Taiwan
U.S. hometown: Simi Valley, CA

What do you miss most about your home country?

“[My parents] really miss the family aspect.  But I also think they miss the India that they knew. My parents have an imagined idea of what India was.”

Sumun Pendakur

“Just my family and friends, but not other things because we can obtain anything here.”

Makiko Osaka, USC Japanese Lecturer
Hokkaido, Japan
U.S. hometown: Torrance, CA

What do you like most about the U.S.?

“I find many share the same values, and I am free to worship my God as our founding fathers meant for this country to enjoy, and because this is my home now.”

W.T. Lin

“In Japan, you always have to worry about what other people think about you, like your friends, your family, and people at work. But I guess here, people don’t care. They don’t try to interfere here, so I feel more free.”

Masako Tamanaha

“When I came to America it was so much more free, so much more well-rounded in terms of education. And I’m at USC and it’s one of the most well-rounded schools, socially, academically, and everything, and I don’t think I would have gotten that in Korea at all.”

Jungwon Park

By Chloe Wang, with Nimisha Thakore

Growing up in Ohio, USC senior Beibei Bai didn't consider herself Asian American. That was an identity she discovered only after leaving the Midwest. Photo: Chloe Wang

Beibei Bai never considered herself “Asian American” until she came to USC.

“I appreciate my culture more because when I was growing up, I wasn’t always surrounded by it,” said Bai, a senior majoring in business administration, who until a few years ago thought of herself as an American born in China.

After living seven years in China, Bai moved to Beavercreek, Ohio, and started life as a Midwestern girl. Her years in China defined her move to the Midwest, and her years in the Midwest in turn defined her learning experiences as an Asian American at USC.

In China, Bai attended a private primary school in Tianjin for two years. The school was so rigorous that she didn’t have to relearn the things she was taught up to second grade until middle school in Ohio.

Because of that, a lot of Bai’s friends in the United States thought she was good at math – a common Asian stereotype.

“Everyone thought I was great at math, but it was just… I’ve done it already,” she said with a laugh.

As it turns out, Ohio made for an interesting experience for a young Chinese immigrant.

“I think it was a great place to grow up because it has an all-American feel, but at the same time, it wasn’t the most exciting place,” Bai said. “It made the transition from a different culture easier and harder at the same time. It was a complete culture shock for me but at the same time, everyone was so nice.”

According to Bai, she had a typical American childhood – one that included not considering herself Asian American.

“I think where I’m from, there was not a strong and solid Asian American identity,” she said. “There wasn’t that many Asian Americans and I think I purposely made myself not be friends with a lot of Asian Americans that were at school because I didn’t want to fit the stereotype. I wanted to do what I wanted to do.”

Bai was a self-proclaimed “whitewashed” kid but still culturally aware. Her parents taught her to keep speaking Mandarin and encouraged her understanding of Chinese culture.

She didn’t realize how much of an advantage she had until she came to USC. Here, she met plenty of Chinese Americans who didn’t fit her assumption that they knew Chinese because they were surrounded by it in Los Angeles.

“Their Chinese is terrible because maybe their parents told them that ‘You want to reform, you want to be more American,’” she said. “But my parents were like, ‘You will learn English, don’t worry. The entire world around you speaks English but you will pick that up, especially when you are young. But the Chinese identity is what you should worry about because that’s the one thing you might lose.’”

Bai was at first “freaked out” by the Asian American culture at USC, but she delved right into exploring it. As a freshman, she joined a six-week program called CIRCLE (Critical Issues in Race, Class, and Leadership Education), hosted by Asian Pacific American Student Services to encourage students’ education about Asian American history and issues.

“I think for me it was very eye-opening because I had no idea about Asian American culture,” Bai said. “It really taught me a lot of things about the Asian communities that I didn’t know and made me more aware in everything I do.”

She feels that there are many things that can be done to make the Asian American community stronger. Bai thinks much of Asian America is more preoccupied with the small things while missing out on the bigger picture – within the Asian American community, there often tends to be a lot of competition between ethnic groups.

That being said, Bai believes that if there are more people helping each other and really bringing the community together, it could have a brighter future.

“That’s a detriment to the entire community because there’s not enough solidarity to help one another out,” she said.

Now that Bai has found her place in the Asian American community at USC, she has some well-learned advice to give to others.

“Don’t let your race or your ethnicity hold you back, but at the same time don’t ever forget it, because that’s what makes you special,” she said. “Whether you think it or not, it will eventually help you.”

By Ivana Banh

The South gave birth to jazz, bourbon, Elvis Presley, fried anything and now: a handful of strong Asian American political leaders. Art: Edwin Lee

Although Asians only make up a mere 4.6 percent of the United States’ population, several political leaders of Asian descent are beginning to make their mark in history. Vietnamese Americans made up 45 percent of Hurricane Katrina’s victims – a statistic that strongly urged people like Anh Joseph Cao to aid in the recovery of many of those who could not speak English. Other Asian American political leaders have also been prompted to rise to power in order to aid the growing Asian population. As can be seen from the accomplishments of leaders like Bobby Jindal and Harry Lee, their strong cultural connections with the people have clearly been beneficial.

BOBBY JINDAL

In 2008, Bobby Jindal was sworn in as the governor of Louisiana. At the age of 36, Jindal was not only one of the youngest but also one of the few Indian Americans to take political office. Jindal was born in Baton Rouge, La., on June 10, 1971, to parents who had emigrated from India several years earlier. The first-generation baby attended both Brown and Oxford Universities and completed a two-year stint as a consultant for numerous Fortune 500 companies. Jindal also aided in rebuilding Louisiana, which was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. After a multitude of accomplishments with the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, Jindal emerged as one of the most favored candidates for governor. Since his election, Jindal has been heavily involved with Louisiana’s Hurricane Katrina recovery and medical and taxing policies.

HARRY LEE

“King” Harry Lee served 28 years as the sheriff of Jefferson Parish, La., before his death in October 2007. Lee was born in 1932 to a Chinese family in New Orleans. He attended Louisiana State University and Loyola Law School. Lee worked as a right-hand man for a congressman and was quickly inspired to pursue politics. He ran for sheriff in 1979 and easily defeated his opponent. During his political career,  Lee was often accused of racism. He had been known for barricading to separate races and for unjust court cases against African Americans. Despite the accusations, Lee’s loyalty to the citizens won him six re-elections. Lee’s final accomplishments included his quick evacuation of the Parish during Hurricane Katrina, as well as his patrol of the area after the storm. “The Chinese Cowboy” died of leukemia several months after Katrina, leaving behind a wife, daughter, and two grandchildren.

ANH JOSEPH CAO

Cao’s childhood in Vietnam during the 1970s may very well have inspired him to devote his life to social equity. After eight years in Saigon, he emigrated to Houston, Texas, as a refugee following the Vietnam War. Cao’s mother shipped him and two siblings out just three days before the Fall of Saigon. His father was serving in the Southern Vietnamese Army.

Cao started a new life in the U.S., initially intending to become a Jesuit priest. After graduating with degrees from Baylor and Fordham Universities and Loyola Law School, Cao became a legal counsel and later part of the National Advisory Council of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. As a member of the Conference, Cao aided in the recovery of Louisiana following Hurricane Katrina. In 2007, Cao was nominated to head the Louisiana Republican Party and as a delegate to Minneapolis. Cao’s political efforts eventually earned him the title of Louisiana’s 2nd Congressional District Representative as well as the first Vietnamese American and Vietnam native in the U.S. Congress.

By Yimu Xue

Who says getting crazy is just for guidos and guidettes? The shameless stars of "K-Town" like to party, too. From left: Young Lee, Jennifer Field, Joe Cha, Scarlet Chan, Violet Kim, Peter Le, Steve Kim, Jasmine Chang.

How to break down the beat at Club Karma. Fending yourself from grenades.* GTL.**

These are just a few lessons we’ve learned from the classy guidos and guidettes of Seaside Heights, the stars of MTV’s latest reality television hit, “Jersey Shore.”

The show revolves around a group of 8 roommates who hook up, get low, and fist pump until their tans melt off. With standout caricatures like Snooki or The Situation, America is exposed to an extreme version of Italian Americans who have received numerous amounts of backlash due to their inappropriate, disorderly conduct.

Intrigued by this concept, rapper-actor-model Tyrese Gibson of Transformers fame believed he could monetize on an opportunity to introduce to America a new, previously un-heard of culture.

“I want sexy, wild, personality, I want hot tubs, sex scenes,” Gibson has said in interviews.  “At the same time, I want people to know the many different layers and characteristics… I want people to know that Asians have layers… We’ve got insecurities… heartaches… challenges… I want to capture all of that on camera for all the world to see.”

Thus we are introduced to a new monstrous hybrid: a reality show starring Asian Americans based in downtown Los Angeles’ Koreatown.

“K-Town” is immersed with, as a Craigslist casting advertisement calls for, “interesting, attractive, colorful Asian-Americans with lively, strong, and unique personalities between the ages of 18 to 30 with equally interesting life stories and perspectives to share, especially individuals who know about and/or experienced the Koreatown life.”

The cast – Young Lee, Joe Cha, Peter Le, Steve Kim, Jennifer Field, Scarlet Chan, Violet Kim, and Jasmine Chang – is a glorified Asian version of the original characters of “Jersey Shore.” We are introduced to a new type of Asian American, ranging from the juiced muscle-head gorillas (hold the hoisin sauce) to the platinum blonde diva.

Throw away any conceptions of a studious, reserved, and conventional Asian – these people love to party and go wild.

But is it a carbon copy of an already established TV show? Each character seems to be an Asian replica of a “Jersey Shore” member: The Situ-Asian; a miniature mom who resembles Snooki; an erotic model whose outlandishness resembles JWoww’s.

But when all the booze stops pouring and the rooms stop spinning, it gets one thinking: Who are these people?

Scarlet Chan’s blog is dedicated “to my hookers, whores, and cross-dressers… to my mother who taught me strength and courage… to the gays who embrace my slutty ways… I heart you.”

Jennifer Field, the only non-full-Asian cast member, is “a Eurasian actor recently relocated to Los Angeles,” supposedly trying to claim her 15 minutes of fame.

Joe Cha’s Facebook name is Joe Knuckles Cha.

What kind of image are they trying to portray, let alone bring forth as a new vision of Asian Americans everywhere?

Defying established stereotypes in America has been a major issue for all races and ethnicities, but especially Asian Americans. Not only is there an extremely limited amount of exposure of minorities on TV, but those that do get the opportunities to shine are outdated misrepresentations of the Asian American people.

It’s the age-old debacle of increasing Asian American exposure on television and having a culture so misrepresented on TV.

Drunken renditions of K-Pop at karaoke bars. Sake bombing and Korean barbecue. BCD.***

Perhaps a few of the lessons we can take from “K-Town”: both a defiance of and a new resource for Asian stereotypes.

*To those out of the loop: a grenade is defined by TMZ as “an ugly chick who tags along with her hot friend.” Hey, we don’t make this stuff up.

**GTL: Gym, Tan, Laundry, the daily prescription for maximum freshness.

***BCD: Buk Chang Dong, an area of Seoul, South Korea, made famous by Koreatown’s BCD Tofu House.

By Rebecca Gao

The diversity within the Asian American community begs to avoid homogenization with an umbrella label like "Asian" or "Asian American."

Asian American – what a broad, encompassing term for us. What does it even mean to be “Asian American” anymore in a hyper-localizing, globalizing world?

In 1968, UC Berkeley student activists began referring to themselves as “Asian American” as a backlash against the more degrading term “oriental.” Three on-campus anti-war leagues – the Chinese American Citizens Alliance, the Japanese American Citizens League, and the Philippine American Collegiate Endeavor – joined forces into a conglomerate christened the Asian American Political Alliance.

A few months later, UCLA professor and historian Yuji Ichioka officially coined the term “Asian American” to promote solidarity among the various dislocated minority groups, from Koreans to Chinese to Indian.

While the consolidation of Asian American interest groups may allow for greater lobbying power, it fails to appreciate the incredible diversity within the community. The label may be able to unify us, but it also homogenizes us. A Sri Lankan citizen has a vastly different culture and heritage than a Vietnamese American but would be encapsulated under the umbrella moniker of “Asian American.”

Just as the French and the Germans are distinctive peoples not to be clumped together strictly as Europeans, Asian Americans are too widely distributed for any one label to stick.

In fact, a single catch-all name distorts the view of Asians by non-Asians. While we within the Asian American community might clearly understand the disparity between Thai and Taiwanese, others might not. With one overarching term, we fail to communicate our unique cultures, almost encouraging one-size-fits-all stereotypes on people who trace from the largest, heaviest populated, and arguably the most varied of all continents.

Just the sheer land range of what constitutes Asia is mind-boggling. Imagine if we called everyone in North and South America “Americans,” be they Canadians or Columbians, and the rest of the world assumed that every American was identical with a few minor difference – some just paler or browner than others.

After all, Americans kind of look the same, you know?

Granted, distributing ourselves into smaller, more distinct groups might foster mini-communities less tolerant of the qualities we have in common that a term “Asian American” might allow. However, they help us recognize the individual histories, traditions, and distinctions which lend each group its own flair.

For example, at USC, we have the Chinese Student Association, the Vietnamese Student Association, Nikkei, and many more cultural groups under the broad sweep of the Asian Pacific American Student Assembly. Traverse Japan Town on a sushi tasting tour with Nikkei, attend a luau with the Hawaii Club, or a beach retreat with HapaSC if you identify with many ethnicities.

We represent an astonishingly diverse community and should embrace both the similarities and differences within the various Asian American ethnicities. With an ever-growing population of Asian Americans, it is simply against our interests to be dusted neatly together into a pile under a single label and to be left there without a deeper understanding of ourselves.