All through the month of October, we’re celebrating LGBTQ+ history month by honoring extraordinary queer Asian American individuals. You can follow along with “We Were Here, We Are Here” @aaopmn on Instagram!
Recently, we reached out to our community to speak with Asian American LGBTQ+ Minnesotans about their experiences and hopes for the future. Here is what they had to say.
Neha, she/her, 19:
I identify as a bisexual woman whose parents immigrated to the US from India. Being an Indian-American meant not being able to embrace my full self around extended family members. I am truly grateful for my parents and sister for being very open-minded and accepting of my identity and I have found that I am often my own greatest barrier.
I grew up in a primarily white and conservative town in Wisconsin, and never fully understood what it meant to be a part of the LGBTQ+ community. I originally carried a very cliché and stereotypical idea of who was a part of this community, when really it is so much more diverse and open. Coming to Minnesota was my greatest eye-opener as to who I could eventually be, which was fully accepting of my identity. I am still working toward that today, but I am thankful for the friends and family that have stood by my side through it all.
Being an Indian-American bisexual woman can affect different areas of my life in many different ways. Professionally, I am not always open about my sexuality, though I can’t really hide my being an Indian woman. Society has definitely put a deep-rooted homophobia in many of us, and it can be difficult to feel fully comfortable in a workplace or academic environment. I spent a large majority of my life surrounded by peers who didn’t understand this community, or what it meant to be a part of it. Socially, I am always in fear of being asked uncomfortable questions, or questions I may not have the answer to myself. However, I use this fear and do my best to encourage other Asian-American LGBTQ+ members to open up about their own experiences, because we are all actually feeling the same way, and talking about these struggles should be normalized.
Going off of my last point, the biggest [way] many Asian American communities can evolve is through communication and openness with each other about our experiences, which may be shared by more of us than we think. By normalizing difficult discussions, we are paving a path for future generations to be comfortable in themselves sooner. I would like to see people learning to accept themselves fully at much younger ages, and I should hope to see people who are not a part of this community also be just as accepting and not create specific images or push hate.
Anonymous, she/her, 26:
I come from a white and conservative family, so while they chose to adopt my mother from Korea, they had no intentions of actually acknowledging, celebrating, or helping her learn that difference. Because of this, their racism, and their homophobic ways, I have learned to be private about my identities and how I connect with my communities. My parents are great, but the racial trauma from others in my family makes it hard to fully accept and celebrate my background, much like many people in the queer community feel as well.
Being fluid and also mixed race (Asian/white) are similar in that often, I feel pressured to choose one or the other. In some ways, being mixed race has helped me to accept being queer, because I already was prepared for the feeling of having to choose a side (Straight or gay? Can’t be both. White or Asian? Can’t be both, etc.). I’m proud to be Asian and also queer, but every day is still an opportunity to really learn and practice that.
As I mentioned before, I tend to be pretty private about things outside of close friendships, so as far as my queer identity, it’s not always a known fact about me. However I cannot hide the fact that I’m Asian, and because I’m also half white, I’m very racially ambiguous at times. In social situations I find myself often explaining to people that I’m just from Minnesota, that I’m actually Korean, etc. [These are] things I feel no one deserves to know, but I do it anyway because it just feels right to educate them. There is also still a lot of racism in the queer community and a lot needs to be unlearned. I’ve faced racism from white gays, and my friends and I try our very best to be educators, though admittedly it’s hard.
[I want to see] education about queerness in Asian communities. A lot of Asian Americans have been able to break from their parents’ traditional mindsets. but there still is a lot of work to be done in recognizing that one can be Asian AND queer. I don’t ever see representation of Asian and queer people anywhere. Within our own queer community, sure, because it’s a fact that Asian people exist and we’re becoming more vocal as time goes on. However everywhere else, it’s not something I ever see. [In the future, I’d like to see] more representation in the media, and more inclusivity, education, and less racism from the queer community.
Madison, she/her, 23:
I identify as a lesbian cis woman, and I’m also a first-generation Vietnamese American. My parents were refugees during the Vietnam War. I came out when I graduated from college, so my entry to the LGBTQIA world has been fairly recent. Since coming out, I’ve been wrestling with the tensions of being a queer person of color, particularly a daughter of immigrants. My parents were harassed and bullied relentlessly when they came to the US as children, so they never taught us our native tongue, thinking it would save us from the treatment they faced; this further separated me from my culture, and I felt like I would never belong anywhere. When I came out of the closet, this only grew stronger. My family is full of mostly traditional, conservative Vietnamese people, and it felt like the closer I grew to my culture, the further I moved from the LGBTQ community. It often feels like there is no space I can feel truly safe and accepted apart from other LGBTQ Asian Americans (of which I know very, very few).
I am also a progressive Christian, which further confuses these identities. I have to be in the closet for my work as a youth director at a predominantly white church, so I’m often battling both the homophobia present in ministry and also the microaggressions of a PWI (primarily white institution). During my first year at my job, I was repeatedly called by the name of the only other Asian woman at the church–among other microaggressions. It often feels like I’m trying to ward off attackers on every side. I do think, though, that I’ve grown to be a thoughtful and empathetic minister because of the intersection of these identities.
The LGBTQ community needs to be less white-centered and the Asian American community needs to be more progressive. I’ve found a lot of anti-Asian racism within the LGBTQ community (some gay men have straight up told me that they would never date an Asian man). My family is not Christian, but they are still deeply conservative, and while they are tolerant of my partner, they do not accept her as my girlfriend or really acknowledge that we are together. These problems leave LGBTQ+ Asian Americans isolated.
I feel like there is no LGBTQ+ Asian American representation at all, at least in mainstream media. “The Half of It” was the first and is still the only movie I’ve ever seen with an Asian, queer woman lead character. I cried at the end. It felt amazing to so deeply resonate with a character. And yes, absolutely, we need to be properly represented! If straight white girls can have hundreds of rom coms centering them, and straight white men can have hundreds of action movies centering them, can people like me get just a little more representation?
My deepest desire right now is for my homeland, Vietnam, to legalize gay marriage so that my partner and I can be fully recognized there. I hope that as LGBTQ+ rights advance in Asian American communities, we can start to feel more seen, known, and accepted by both the LGBTQ community and Asian American community.