Anyway, at least this situation has completely wiped out one issue that constantly burned my mind: hiring based on race. I was hesitant about going into the teaching field if recruiters saw my skin color as beneficial for their staff quota. I was automatically labeled as “affirmative action candidate” in one interview. What did that mean? Oh, yeah! It means I get special privileges because I’m a minority. This angered me. So what if I’m Asian? Does that mean I have more merit to being an English teacher than an English teacher who was Caucasian, or African-American, or Hispanic? Does that mean I’m a better role model for students—who for the most part at this school—will mostly be Hispanic and Caucasian?
As one interviewer put it: it’s “beneficial for the kids.” In what way, may I ask? I walk into a classroom, and I do get a couple of shocked faces because they’ve never seen an English teacher who wasn’t “white.” But it’s only a momentary surprise. It wears off by the third day. From them on, I’m just another English teacher. Does the administration think that I’m going to impart knowledge different from that of a Caucasian teacher? Sorry to burst their bubble, but I was educated in an American high school. I pretty much learned the same canon of American literature that most English teachers around the country have learned. I’m just there to provide a different experience—literature taught by a “minority.”
And who says that I’ll be a role model? Whether I’m a role model or not is entirely up to the students. If they like me enough and believe in my philosophy of learning that they find me inspiring, then I guess I’m a role model. But isn’t that true of any teacher? Ask anyone about who their role model was, or who their favorite teacher was, or even a life-changing mentor, and they will probably only remember ONE. ONE out of the numerous teachers they’ve had during elementary, high school, or even college years. They’ll only remember one. Now who says I’m going to be a guaranteed role model for a student when they have so many to choose from? It’s not even guaranteed that an Asian student will find me as a role model just because I’m Asian. If anyone is curious, I have two teachers who will forever be ingrained in my memory: my high school AP English teacher who is Caucasian, and my fifth grade elementary teacher who is Japanese (the best of both worlds, if you ask me). They both have similar teaching philosophies, and they both encouraged me to improve my reading and writing. Race had nothing to do with it. My fifth grade teacher and I weren’t even the same kind of Asian. I am Filipino. Historically, Japanese and Filipinos did not get along. It obviously didn’t apply to us. He was my teacher, and he was concerned about my reading, not my race.
Although I do believe that there is an obvious power structure within the education system, it’s this same educational institution that taught me hard work does pay off; it's this same educational institution that has bestowed upon me all opportunities to get to college. In my experience, equal opportunity existed. Sure, my parents were immigrants, but I’m not the first in my generation to go to college—foreign or domestic. Sure, my people were oppressed—in my native homeland as well as here in the United States—but I have never been looked down upon because of my skin color, nor have I ever felt treated as a second-class citizen.
Until now.
Although my ethnicity has defined a significant part of my life, it is only through a personal nature in connection with my identity and culture. Through my culture I have learned to respect all cultures and races. As for embracing American ideals, my ethnicity played a very small part. I don’t need to be reminded that my people are considered a minority group. What does that have to do with me? I never felt like a minority until someone mentions the word “minority.” It’s a word that conjures up a history with which I am barely associated. It makes me feel like the “OTHER” in a list of ethnic categories. It’s a word that makes me feel less than who I am.
I embraced my ethnic background for the mere fact that it makes me different and unique, but I think this only to myself. I like walking into the English department to discover that I’m the only Asian amongst the Caucasians; I can be spotted easily for my black hair in a sea of blondes and brunettes; and I’m the only one in the lunch room with a bowl of rice every day as everyone else converses over sandwiches and pasta; but I’m not going to be the token Asian for the department. I’m not a representative for all the Asians or other ethnic groups on staff. I’m not a “model immigrant” to inspire others to do as I have done. To each, his own.
* * *
So, that was the fiery issue on my mind before I even applied to any district. At least at this school where I was hired, it wasn’t a question of race. I never even filled out an application until they told me that I got the job. They had never seen me until the day of the interview. Time was a factor, they saw my credentials and qualifications, and they hired me because they seemed desperate. Do I like the fact that I was hired out of desperation? That’s another question to ponder, but at least I know it wasn’t on account of my skin color.
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