In many Asian households, emotions are contained, respect is demanded and family secrets are locked away. This suppressed pain is often passed down like an heirloom, and despite taking on different forms for different families, the consequences last across generations. From wars and migration to colonization and cultural erasure, many Asian families carry burdens from the past that still affect their lives today.
A mask and a catalyst for much of this trauma is the “model minority” stereotype. The model minority myth puts Asian Americans in a box that portrays them as obedient, high-achieving and economically successful by biological nature. Gaining prominence during the 1960s Civil Rights Movement, even the New York Times depicted Asian Americans as a prime example for minorities who achieved success through hard work and discipline — without acknowledging the difficulties such as racial discrimination and demands for assimilation that they faced.
In Asian countries like Japan, China, South Korea and Taiwan, an intense focus on academic and professional achievement has been ingrained into the culture. Since most Asian American families originate from these Eastern countries, the belief that education is the only path to success has rippled through generations.
Even beyond personal achievements, this cultural emphasis on success is deeply tied to family honor and cultural customs. Collective identity — a key principle in many Asian cultures — emphasizes the importance of shared values, even at the cost of the autonomous self. An individual’s appearance and successes are often viewed as representative of their whole family or even the Asian community as a whole.
The model minority myth has been used to downplay racism by suggesting that other minorities could achieve the same success by adopting the same values. Not only does this myth overlook the complex experiences unique to Asian American communities — it also puts unrealistic pressure on many individuals to meet the same high standards. This narrative also contributes to stigma around seeking help for mental health issues, as admitting to mental struggles is often perceived as failure to live up to the standards of success and competence.
Most Asian elders have internalized the belief that vulnerability equates to weakness, while silence and endurance represent strength. These teachings get passed down to their children, creating generational trauma that shapes how mental health is viewed in Asian American communities. Even before they can fully understand and connect with their culture, Asian American children are exposed to these rigid expectations, which serve as a blueprint for how they should behave and succeed.
In today’s digital age, this trauma has taken on a newer and more subtle form. With the rise of social media, comparing oneself to others has never been easier, with millions of curated versions of success and perfection. Age-old expectations of idealism — such as the notorious “be a doctor” ideal — now also exist in the pressure to perform a certain identity online. Usually, embodying the image of someone who is effortlessly successful and unbothered is seen as the ideal.
Some younger Asian Americans are realizing the importance of mental health awareness, as the current generation is more willing to have honest discussions about this topic. This is a good start, but it doesn’t mean the pressure is gone. For many Asian Americans, it has simply taken on a more psychological and internalized form.
When trauma and social pressures are so deeply ingrained throughout generations, breaking the cycles they create is no easy task. But as younger generations continue to advocate for mental health and seek progress on past wounds, there is a powerful shift being made. The path to removing these stigmas will not come without difficulty, but it has the potential to change entire communities for the better. By encompassing cultural pride while acknowledging and growing from the traumas of their ancestors, Asian Americans can continue honoring their heritage while creating a safe space for healing.
Deanza Andriansyah is an Opinion Staff Writer. She can be reached at dandrian@uci.edu.
Edited by Casey Mendoza and Jaheem Conley.