Typical Asian: Asian students are unfairly discredited in college admissions for being “stereotypical”

You like math? Don’t tell them you’re Asian.

This is real college application advice from my Vietnamese mom’s Korean friends — who hate affirmative action. To them, I’m lucky: my dad is white so I can (hypothetically) be more “creative” when checking the race box.

Asian students are frustrated about their identity in the college admissions process and systemically punished for having “stereotypical” passions — all while being held to a higher academic standard.

Designed to increase diversity, affirmative action is an admissions policy that considers race and favors underrepresented groups. Basically, acceptance is capped for each race — bad news for the large pool of academically-competitive Asian students. 

Since 1990, the percentage of Asians in the US has more than doubled, according to the US Census, while the share of Asians in Harvard’s freshman class has only increased 6%. 

Asians have to score 140 points higher on the SAT than white people to have the same chance of admission to top universities, according to a Princeton study.  Having “predictable” Asian interests makes it hard to stand out, no matter how sharp you are.

And it doesn’t get more generic than me: an Asian American student who loads on AP classes with an emphasis in STEM. Oh, and shocker: I also play tennis. 

It’s not fair to give Asian students a lower chance at college admission for preferences out of their control. I didn’t ask for math to be my favorite subject — I wish I could change it. 

Man, the US has cracked the education system code: a 17-year-old regrets their favorite subject for a fair shot at their dream school. Colleges should encourage natural passions across all races. 

Affirmative action can’t claim to promote racial equity while blatantly discounting Asian students. 

Still, I won’t lie about my race (though I know those who have). Maybe I can’t speak Vietnamese, but I’m still connected to my culture and discrediting it in any form — even on an application — would feel like poking a hole in the boat that my refugee mom and grandparents came to the US on.

Instead, I’ve brainstormed less moral-breaking ways to differentiate my generic self since I began worrying about college as a junior this year:

Should I forget the Pythagorean Theorem and burn my TI-84 calculator to explore a less predictable subject instead? Trade my tennis skirts for a water polo uniform?

I can’t bring myself to. 

As unhappy as I am to perpetuate Asian stereotypes and fuel jokes about our nerdiness — cue sappy coming-of-age music — it’s who I am. 

I know no one is forcing me to reinvent myself. College admissions are not life or death, and Asian people experience discrimination in other, more serious, ways. Being teased about eating dogs at school undoubtedly feels worse than fitting the smart Asian trope and can’t compare to anti-Asian COVID hate crimes.

But I’ve been set on attending a ranked, out-of-state college since entering the “gifted” program as an elementary schooler. And by searching for an artificially diverse class with affirmative action, admissions officers are basically asking me to pick between my dream college goals and natural interests. I can’t help but wonder if my odds would improve if I gave up doing what I love.

Good thing I quit piano because that would’ve hit the nail on my Asian-poster-child coffin. 

I shouldn’t need to celebrate my love for writing on the newspaper partly because it’s less generic for my race than everything else I like. 

I shouldn’t be happy that I moved from California to Kansas at age five because it makes me more “unique.” And my Asian friends in California shouldn’t have less of a chance at top schools than me.

We shouldn’t have to earn higher grades than students with other cultural backgrounds to stand out just because there are “too many” straight-A Asians. Effort to follow our passions, regardless of what they are, should affect admissions. Not race.

Everyone — especially college admissions officers — need to value “generic” math-loving, tennis-playing Asian students that traded their weeknights for AP Calculus. Hard work can’t become trite. The Supreme Court must take this into account while they review affirmative action to ensure fairness and equity without penalizing Asian students.

Hopefully by the time I start receiving college decisions, I won’t have to wonder whether rejections came from my being under-qualified or overly-typical.