Embracing my cultural identity through stories of diversity by Krystal

Embracing my cultural identity through stories of diversity by Krystal - February 2017 Scholarship Essay

Growing up in a rich, predominantly white neighborhood, my friends did not look like me. Reading mainstream popular fiction, my favorite protagonists did not look like me. When I was in junior high, I dyed my black hair to straw. I spent hours by the pool trying to tan like my friends. I even quit Chinese school because I hated being set apart. I could tell my parents were disappointed in me, but I didn’t care. I failed at learning the language, at respecting my elders, and even at accepting my own identity. Instead of trying to embrace my culture, I tried to shake it off.

That changed when I visited Shanghai in high school, and started reading books that featured protagonists like me. I realized that no matter how close I was to my friends, I could never be fully like them. And that wasn’t a bad thing. If anything, my differences made me who I am– made me my own person.

I appreciate my childhood, even though I sometimes wish I always possessed the mindset I have today. My experience not accepting myself in my younger days allowed me to have empathy and sympathize with those who still struggle with cultural dissonance today. Moreover, the impact that a lack of diversity in literature and media had on me in my childhood has inspired me to write stories about characters of color today.

The change was gradual. At first, after visiting Shanghai, I purposefully sought out stories featuring people of color, and although this took much more time and effort, its impact was unparalleled. Reading had always been an escape; now it was a way to return. My favorite book at fifteen became one of foot binding in rural China; I saw unavoidable similarities between that naive farm girl surrounded by rice fields and feeling as if she did not belong, and me– the naive city girl, lost in a crowd and knowing all-too-well that tug of loneliness.

Throughout high school, I wrote four novels. They ranged from urban fantasy to contemporary to historical. The one thing they held in common: Asian representation. My protagonist was always as black-haired, as yellow-skinned, as almond-eyed as I was. I read what I wanted to write. And I wrote what I wanted to read.

Fast-forward to college. At UCLA, I took a writing course and captured my professor’s interest. She encouraged me to pursue my personal work and send it out into the world. Before then, I had always been quiet– mute even– about my interests. Perhaps it was the Asian influence surrounding me, urging me to drop words for numbers. Or perhaps it was my own reluctance, my suspicion of the world: would people genuinely want to read about the experiences of Asian characters? My professor told me something I’ll never forget: it doesn’t matter if they want to now, they will when they read your book.  

I decided to take the leap. I entered into several writing contests, and received overwhelmingly positive feedback. I sent out query letters. For the next few weeks, I became glued to my email. And then, one day while sitting in lecture, I received my first manuscript request. It was like applause ringing in my ear. A single agent cared about this work– this story set in Ancient Asia, this monarchic dynasty falling to communist rule, and this black-haired girl with a dream of peace.

As I write this essay, I have received two offers of publication. I haven’t decided where to go from here, but I’m excited for the future. I’m working on another manuscript now, and I have two ideas quietly brewing in the back of my mind. Yes, they all feature Asian protagonists (and one with a queer protagonist). And yes, I am interested in other stories. But first, I need to hear my own.

I remember what I was like as a teenager. Wishing I could change the color of my eyes, my hair, even my skin. Again and again, I failed not only my family, but my entire culture. But I’m glad that I went through that– that I wasn’t just born content in my own skin. Now, I am passionate about writing diverse stories specifically because I understand young girls out there who were like me, who need characters they can relate to and stories they can understand. My failures are not just meant to be overcome; they are meant to shape my worldviews, perspectives, and plans.