Issue 047 (from the archive) | Authentic Activism for Asian American Women
Dear Cosmos Community,
I spent my twenties in San Francisco, at a time when being a "founder" sounded like the most glamorous life. Photo shoots! Lists! Features in TechCrunch! Hundreds of thousands of followers! Parties with important people changing the world!
It was easier to want to be somebody, instead of myself. I dated founders scheming to get on 30 under 30 lists in San Francisco. I joined communities of other people trying to be somebody, because if they made it, well, of course I would too. I filled my Instagram with posts of me doing things a somebody would -- me, gazing out the airplane window; me, doing a TEDx talk in Europe; me, chatting with a successful entrepreneur on a rooftop bar!
But the truth is, I hated "somebody" me. I was empty and envious and exhausted. And more than anything, I was lost. Did I really care about "community"? Did I really want to "impact" people? Or was I, too, just perpetuating the commodification of these words?
Looking back, I want to give this Karen a big ole hug. Tell her that everything she's feeling is normal. Tell her she'll find a therapist, and eventually, a community where she can share her fears and insecurities.
I was outgrowing what I thought I was supposed to want, or, at least, "how" I thought I was supposed to want it. I did care about community, but in my early twenties, I wasn't ready to confront how much my Asian identity was part of the story. I did want to impact people, but not because I wanted the glamor that media celebrates.
It's because I spent so many years denying myself the questioning that I care so much about creating space for it now. It is no easy feat to untangle myself from the idols of capitalism. It is especially hard because I wanted so long to belong, to be like everyone else.
This year, the questioning of what I am supposed to want, of how to stay true to me, the me that I am just now really accepting, has gotten louder in my mind. The stakes feel higher. It seems the world cares about Asian America now, and some days, I feel tempted by the things I wanted before --- to be somebody -- especially now that I am a founder.
But I pause. I unplug. I close the apps. I take a breath. I sit in this space of questioning. And today, I invite you to join me.
Cassandra and I created Authentic Activism for Asian Women to be a safe, non-judgmental space to question how we care for our community in a way that feels true to our identity journey, to our work of self-acceptance, to the Asian America we imagine outside of the constraints of individualism and capitalism. We know asking these questions out loud can be scary, so we're offering free 30 minute coaching calls this week and next! I hope I can hear your questions, too.
Existentially yours,
Karen
Culture Corner
watching
I don't even listen to J Balvin, but I watched his documentary on Amazon Prime, The Boy from Medellin. And damn, I was crying in the first 15 minutes, watching J Balvin, one of the most successful reggaeton artists of our time, describes what anxiety and depression feel like for him. The anxiety about getting anxiety. The disassociation, the inability to recognize himself. The fear that the depression won't end. Okay, he's a mega superstar, and I'm, well, me, but what he shared sounded so much like my experience with anxiety and depression. What is this, feeling seen by someone who doesn't even know me??? Maybe I put up barriers to feeling seen and understood by people who seem so different from me, but what if I didn't? Might it be beautiful?
Rainesford Stauffer doesn't shy away from asking the existential questions I've kept stored away in a box in my heart. I started and finished her book An Ordinary Age on the New York City subway, which besides being a great place to cry in New York, is also a fitting place to contemplate the direction of your life (or at least, if you're going in the right direction. Excuse the train puns). Every chapter spoke to a big scary question I've been asking myself -- does "self-care" really care for me? why do I never feel "enough"? what if what fulfills me is the most ordinary things in life?
Note: Book links are connected to our Bookshop affiliate page. If you purchase a book from there, you'll be supporting our work and local independent bookstores!
listening to
Ocean Avenue by Yellowcard. No song will ever feel more like summer for me!!!!!!!!