If a sense of belonging requires a secure sense of place and identity, the very act of engaging in a diaspora means the goal will always be out of reach. In their new book Where I Belong: Healing Trauma and Embracing Asian American Identity, co-authors Soo Jin Lee and Linda Yoon look toward building a bridge between the home that was and the home that might never become fully realized.
As co-directors of Yellow Chair Collective, Lee and Yoon effectively make their case that inter-generational trauma can take time to absorb and understand. The collective is a national therapeutic service focusing on inclusivity and post-traumatic stress disorder and trauma recovery, and Lee is a marriage and family therapist and Yoon, a licensed social worker.
Sampan spoke recently with Lee and Yoon about their book and how they hope it will help Asian Americans embrace new and hopeful possibilities.
Sampan: Was it daunting to start this project knowing that some people might want you to define “Asian American Identity”? Those three words seem to be too subjective to nail down.
Yoon and Lee: Defining Asian American identity is challenging, with cultural and societal implications as well as historical context influencing who Asian Americans may be. Self-identity also plays a crucial role. Although we understand it may be subjective, we wanted to begin our journey in our book with a comprehensive picture of who we were referring to and how we were going to represent this group. It was certainly daunting, and we went back and forth rewording, adding, and editing to achieve the conciseness the chapter required while staying true to our general cultural experiences. We wanted to emphasize that defining ourselves is up to us and that the complexity of one’s identity cannot be fully represented under one umbrella term.
Asian Americans encompass a vast array of experiences, histories, and cultures that are too diverse to neatly encapsulate. They come from various countries, each with its own distinct traditions, languages, and histories. The experiences of first-generation immigrants can differ significantly from those of second-generation individuals or those whose families have been in the United States for multiple generations.
Identity is influenced by a myriad of factors: socioeconomic status, gender, sexual orientation, personal experiences of racism and discrimination, and more. These factors add layers of complexity to the already multifaceted concept of Asian American identity. Recognizing this, we tried to address the spectrum of experiences while highlighting common threads that unite the community when addressing trauma specifically.
SAMPAN: You do a good job defining “trauma” as “…various painful experiences that have not been fully integrated into our brain processing.” Would it be too simplistic to say that intergenerational trauma is at the key of the Asian American experience? Is their specific intergenerational trauma different from other groups who have risked everything to come here?
Lee and Yoon: Intergenerational trauma is an essential topic to address and dedicate an entire book to, because of what we’ve seen and experienced firsthand as mental health therapists working primarily with Asian Americans. We noticed that, although other experiences define one’s mental and emotional healing journey, there was often a misalignment regarding Asian American identity. When delving deeper into internal dialogues around identity, we found that many people struggled with not having a fully integrated understanding of their family’s history, the racism they experienced, and how our culture impacts our interactions with the world.
While we may share many similar traumatic experiences with other minority groups or immigrant cultures, a distinct element affecting Asian American identities is the racism and microaggressions associated with the model minority myth. This myth perpetuates the idea that Asians and Asian Americans are perpetual outsiders. We discuss in detail how the model minority myth, though seemingly positive, stereotypes Asians as shy, law-abiding, and intelligent, thus boxing us into roles that deny leadership, creativity, and confidence. Regardless of how many generations an Asian American family has been in the U.S., we are often viewed as foreigners, not representative of the all-American image.
Sampan: Where I Belong effectively balances the narratives of various patients with terms such as “race,” “colonialism,” and “systematic oppression.” (Talk about how) Asian communities have dealt with these issues in their own efforts to help people working through such trauma?
Lee and Yoon: Healing from systematic and historical traumas is an ongoing journey. There is no singularly perfect approach to addressing the spectrum of identities tied to trauma. Instead, we focus on understanding our identity, inner narratives, and building context around these narratives — trying to make sense of where they come from and how they continue to impact our lives. By creating more opportunities to build this understanding together as a community, we can grow and heal collectively.
Asian communities have made significant strides in addressing these complex issues by integrating traditional cultural practices with modern therapeutic approaches, such as mindfulness, meditation, and community rituals, which honor cultural heritage while addressing mental health needs. The collective efforts of Asian communities to address these issues is our commitment to fostering a more inclusive and supportive environment where we are continuing to fight against the systematic spaces which perpetuates racism and hate.
Sampan: How strong is the “Model Minority” concept since its introduction in the 1960s? Has it
been so deeply ingrained, welcomed, and tolerated into the mainstream that its true power is underestimated? How much damage is it doing in the struggle to help Asian Americans deal with trauma?
Lee and Yoon: The concept of the model minority is deeply ingrained in our culture. Even today, many Asian and Asian American individuals experience microaggressions related to this concept, with comments like “You must be good at math” or “You are different than I thought you would be.” It also creates workplace challenges such as the “bamboo ceiling,” which implies that Asians or Asian Americans cannot be in leadership or positions of power and authority. The damage is significant, manifesting as financial barriers for those unable to advance in their careers and the mental gymnastics of upholding one’s cultural identity while trying to prove worthiness in society.
In the media, the model minority stereotype has long been accepted, with stories of the “good Asian kid” or the exoticism of Asian females portrayed in movies and television. It’s only recently that Asian characters can be the “hero” rather than the “sidekick.” There still isn’t enough representation across the spectrum of different characteristics and personalities of Asian individuals.
Sampan: The stories of refugee and war trauma, especially in the Cambodian and Vietnamese narratives, are still harrowing these days, a half century after the conflicts. Wars might end, but the battles remain. Are you seeing similar refugee and war trauma in any other populations you see in your practices?
Lee and Yoon: Asia, like other parts of the world, has been and continues to be a place of political conflict and civil unrest. Many Asian Americans, whether refugees or immigrants, share a deep sense of grief and loss through war and displacement. For example, Chinese families often found themselves in different parts of Asia and other continents after the war. Koreans were left without a home in their own country during the Japanese occupation and the Korean War. The horror of genocide still affects Burmese families today.
In our book, we briefly introduce the concept of West Asia, commonly known in America as the Middle East, which shares in the current conflict of war, leaving an entire culture of people displaced. Many of these individuals are trying to make new homes as refugees in America. The result of these displacements are a shared sense of feelings of grief and loss as well as a sense of alienation and isolation that we suffer in our new homes.
Sampan: Immigrants are encouraged to immediately assimilate, to assume the essence of the people and their new land: food, language, everything. In your chapter about contextualizing Asian American experiences, you note the “feeling of being perpetual foreigners,” that many children of refugees were never taught to articulate and fully comprehend their trauma. How important is it to tackle the historical context of collective struggles in order to understand and deal with personal problems?
Lee and Yoon: As mental health therapists, we were initially taught through Western psychology that individual problems exist solely within our minds, often separating mental and emotional health from history, culture, and our physical bodies. This framework tends to focus on personal pathology and internal processes without fully considering the broader context in which an individual’s experiences occur. However, through our own work and understanding of our family cultures, we realized that this approach was incomplete, especially for those dealing with inter-generational trauma.
For many immigrants and children of refugees, there is an overwhelming pressure to assimilate into the new culture quickly—adopting the food, language, and customs of their new land. This often comes at the expense of their original cultural identity and can create a profound sense of loss and disconnection. In our chapter on contextualizing Asian American experiences, we note the pervasive “feeling of being perpetual foreigners.” This feeling arises because many children of refugees were never taught to articulate and fully comprehend their trauma. They are caught between two worlds, neither fully belonging to the culture of their heritage nor the culture of their new home.
When we delve into our lineage, understanding the food we eat, the clothes we wear, and the land we come from, we start to piece together the fragmented parts of our identity. This understanding helps us to see how our upbringing and values are shaped by generations of experiences. Recognizing the cultural and historical factors that influence our behaviors and emotions allows us to see our personal problems in a new light. For instance, understanding the historical trauma of war, colonization, and displacement that our ancestors experienced can help explain certain family dynamics, behaviors, and emotional responses. It sheds light on why certain values are emphasized and why some fears or anxieties are prevalent.
The missing pieces of our lives create many layers of grief. This grief is not just about personal loss but also about the collective loss of culture, history, and identity. How can we begin to restore ourselves if we don’t understand what was lost in the first place? By exploring our roots and understanding our collective history, we can start to fill in the gaps in our personal narratives.
Sampan: Your conclusion is that trauma “…consists of the past event and the physical reactions to triggers that continue on into the present.” The four F’s (fight, flight, freeze, and fawn) are very clear means by which trauma victims physically react. Are there others?
Lee and Yoon: The 4 F’s we discuss in the book are a simple way to understand and categorize our body’s reaction to trauma—how it continues to live inside our body even when we don’t realize it. Each person’s response to trauma is unique, and these reactions can manifest in various combinations depending on the individual and the specific circumstances of the traumatic event.
Different events in our lives may cause different or combined reactions. While not all unique reactions to trauma can fit perfectly into an organized box, it’s a starting place to understand how our own reactions to trauma may look.
Sampan: Have you seen instances where trauma victims are able to cultivate self-compassion and fail to reconcile with emotionally distant parents? In other words, can self-compassion break the chains of inter-generational trauma?
Lee and Yoon: Breaking inter-generational trauma can look very different for each individual. It is often associated with achieving a perfectly healed family dynamic where parents respect boundaries, and everyone can express their emotions appropriately and acknowledge each other’s pain. While that sounds great and is possible in some households, it’s not realistic or achievable for many. Breaking inter-generational trauma means creating space for our emotionally distant parents to be who they are and acknowledging that they may never understand the impact of their upbringing. We have the privilege of gaining further knowledge and understanding about ourselves and our history more than previous generations could have imagined.
Self-compassion is different from self-love. We are not striving for ultimate positivity and perfection in our relationships. Instead, we aim for an internal, non-judgmental space where all emotions can exist, no matter how negative they may feel.
Sampan: How did you two work together to create this text? It reads in a very unified, systematic manner. Soo Jin, how do you incorporate creativity into your practice? Linda, what is your primary drive to keep working with trauma survivors and the neurodivergent community?
Lee: We both come from our own unique narratives and experiences, which deeply influenced our perspectives and approaches to this project. Creating this text together was challenging on multiple levels. As you can imagine, and perhaps have experienced, partnering with someone in any endeavor can be difficult. Collaboration requires navigating differences in communication styles, work habits, and emotional responses. Linda and I had to learn about each other’s trauma reactions, values, experiences, and strengths. This process was much like the early stages of a marriage where partners are discovering each other’s nuances. We spent considerable time getting to know one another, understanding what triggers stress or inspiration, identifying what drives our passions, and recognizing how we each prefer to approach work. This period of mutual discovery was crucial for establishing a strong foundation for our partnership.
The operational elements of our collaboration—setting deadlines, dividing tasks, and coordinating efforts—were essential, but what truly built our working relationship was our shared vision and values. As an artist and a therapist, it has always been important for me to integrate and discuss creative ways of approaching health and mental wellness. This includes being able to integrate drawing, music, movies, and writing into the therapeutic process. This is how we also knew that we needed to have elements of engagements such as the journaling prompts and grounding exercises were going to be an integral part of our book.
We both wanted to contribute something valuable to our community—something that would provide support, foster understanding, and promote healing. By recognizing and valuing our individual strengths and experiences, we created a book that speaks to the complexities and nuances of the Asian American experience. Our partnership, built on mutual respect and a shared goal, allowed us to produce a resource that we hope will make a significant difference in the lives of our readers.
Sampan: What role do you see this book playing in the Asian American community, especially in light of the Asian hate crimes that surfaced in the immediate light of Spring 2020 and shows no sign of dissipating?
During the pandemic, the Asian and Asian American community sought mental and emotional care more than ever. We knew that healing for our community needed to look different, especially during such an unprecedented time full of isolation.
This led us to develop online community groups as a solution to the epidemic of isolation and fear. These virtual spaces became crucial platforms where individuals could come together, share their experiences, and process the events unfolding around them. We facilitated discussions that allowed participants to voice their concerns, anxieties, and traumas in a safe and supportive environment. In these online groups, we also focused on educating participants about the historical and cultural context of their trauma. Understanding the roots of their pain helped individuals make sense of their experiences and begin the healing process. We provided resources and guidance on coping mechanisms, resilience-building, and self-care practices tailored to the unique needs of the Asian and Asian American community.
Participants reported feeling more connected, understood, and empowered to navigate their mental health challenges. They appreciated having a dedicated space to explore their identities, confront their traumas, and support one another. This inspired us to document and expand on these themes in our book. We want people to feel seen, heard, and to understand the context of their struggles. Our book aims to continue the conversation started in these online groups, offering insights, stories, and strategies to help individuals and the broader community heal from trauma. By sharing real stories of people and their journeys of trauma healing and identity discovery, we hope to convey the message that no one is alone in their struggles.
