Beyond ‘Otherness:’ The Path Ahead for True Asian American Media Representation

By Jenny Liu, Senior Manager, Disinformation and Misinformation Policy

From Crazy Rich Asians and Everything Everywhere all at Once to Turning Red and Never Have I Ever, the past decade has marked myriad milestone moments in Asian American media representation. While the entertainment industry is still overwhelmingly white, research shows promising trajectories for Asian Americans on screen. A 2023 study from the USC Norman Lear Center and Gold House analyzing the top 100 films and series on popular streaming platforms found that the percentage of Asian American major characters — described as those in three or more episodes of a show or billed in at least sixth place in film credits — jumped from 3% in 2007 to 16% in 2022.

In addition to lauding these “louder” victories in Asian American portrayals on screen, I have been pondering the power of “quieter” representation in fostering more inclusive pop culture. Recently, I watched the Disney-Pixar animated movie Hoppers, directed by Daniel Chong. As I dug into my popcorn, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Mabel, the film’s feisty protagonist voiced by Piper Kurda, is Japanese American. Her racial identity, however, is never explicitly mentioned. There is no “lunch box moment” or “where are you really from” exchange. Instead, we watch her kick off her shoes as she enters her house, learn her last name is Tanaka, and see flashes of rolled tamago and other Japanese-style dishes at the dining table. Mabel’s race is integrated organically into the story rather than made the central conflict. It was refreshing to experience the lighthearted, subtle representation that peppered this movie in comparison to Rosemead and Slanted, two excellent Asian American-centered films, but ones that discuss heavy issues like Chinese American stigma around mental health and racially motivated bullying.

This Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, at a moment where immigrants — and those perceived to be immigrants — are constantly belittled and otherized, I find myself returning to this idea of subtle Asian American representation and what is means to simply “be” without needing to explain. After all, shows with white casts rarely delve into the characters’ heritage; whiteness is treated as the default and therefore uninterrogated. As Tiffany Chao of Gold House notes, many Asian American performers have expressed “a strong desire to move beyond roles and storylines only centered on their race — to play multidimensional characters that can be just as funny, flawed, or inspirational as anyone else and just so happen to be Asian.” Stories focused on race are important and deserve recognition, but they cannot be the only ones we tell. We cannot limit Asian American representation to narratives of struggle, trauma, or cultural conflict. As Chao emphasizes, “We hope to see more stories that feature the full range of the Asian diaspora’s experiences.”

True media diversity is showcasing characters whose stories are not limited to their “Asian-ness.” Hollywood has long relied on familiar Asian American archetypes like the Tiger Mom (think Jessica from Fresh Off the Boat), awkward overachiever (Raj from the Big Bang Theory), and loyal best friend (Lane from Gilmore Girls). These examples underscore the limitations of simply advocating for more Asian faces on screen without examining the nature of this representation. Instead, we should push for intentional portrayals that reflect the full spectrum of the Asian American experience. This includes everything from stories of immigrant struggle like Minari to franchises like To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before and Beef which heavily feature Asian American characters but do not use race as an element of conflict to be resolved or addressed.

Ultimately, meaningful diversity stems from the existence of characters who are defined by much more than their perceived “otherness.” Appreciating progress in representation means celebrating large-scale milestones — like majority Asian American casts or the explosion of Korean culture in American pop culture — but also smaller subtleties like characters bringing gochujang carrots to a potluck or enjoying a dim sum feast.

Asian Americans are the fastest-growing racial group in the United States. Our community is incredibly diverse, and we deserve stories that showcase this diversity without tokenizing it or using it only as a narrative device. While race-conscious storytelling remains essential, there is something equally powerful about stories where multidimensional Asian American characters can simply exist without their background serving as defining qualities.