Heritage at a distance

Third-generation and higher Asian Americans reflect on identity, belonging and cultural disconnect.

by Annie Jiang

For Communication third-year Sophie Fuentecilla, being a third-generation Asian American means living between two Asian cultures she barely knows.

“My parents weren’t directly from the Philippines or Korea,” she says. “So I’m kind of not connected to either of them.”

This cultural disconnect is a common experience for many third-generation and higher Asian Americans at NU.

According to the Pew Research Center, “third-generation and higher” refers to Americans born in the United States whose parents were also born in the United States — in other words, the grandchildren of immigrants and beyond.

With the rise of anti-Asian hate during and after the COVID-19 pandemic, media coverage has predominantly centered on immigrant and second-generation narratives, often leaving third-generation and higher Asian Americans uncertain about their position within the broader Asian American community.

“I still felt disconnected”

Despite growing up in Bergen County, New Jersey, where there is a strong Korean American presence, Fuentecilla still felt something missing in fully embracing her half-Korean, half-Filipino identity.

“It kind of doesn’t make sense,” she says. “I had all this access to Korean culture, but I still felt disconnected.”

However, Fuentecilla says that although she feels culturally disconnected, she’s still aware of common Asian American narratives, like parents expressing affection by cutting fruit or families rarely discussing love and relationships at home, even if she hasn’t personally experienced them.

At NU, Fuentecilla explored her Filipino heritage through Kaibigan, the Philippine American student organization, where she learned traditional dances and words in Tagalog. Later, she studied abroad at Yonsei University in Seoul, where she learned to read and write Korean while immersing herself in the Korean culture.

“It’s definitely a different experience being third-generation than it is being second-generation,” Fuentecilla says. “Hopefully if I ever have children, they don’t feel even more culturally disconnected than I do.”

“Eight different directions”

During his two visits to Japan, Weinberg fourth-year Brandon Takahashi experienced a sense of cultural incongruity. For fourth-generation Asian Americans like Brandon, identity isn’t about tracing back to a homeland.

While other Asian American students talked about visiting family “back home” in China or Korea in high school, he didn’t have that when he was growing up. Most of his relatives have lived in California or Hawaii for generations.

Growing up in Los Angeles, Takahashi had access to a large Japanese American community. He says his parents were active in the Asian American Pacific Islander community and prioritized attending Japanese cultural events. In college, Takahashi continued that involvement by joining NU’s Asian Pacific Asian Coalition (APAC) and the Japanese American Citizens League in Chicago.

However, Takahashi also says that there are perceived generational differences within the Japanese American community.

“Sometimes the community is resistant to change and adaptation, and you can see that when they make a clear delineation between Yonsei [fourth-generation] and Sansei [third-generation],” he says. To fourth-generation Asian Americans like Takahashi, he says they are “constantly being pulled in eight different directions to be something, when in reality even within the Asian American community we’re all very different.”

“Maybe not traditional, but still valuable”

SESP fourth-year Kiran Bhat never really thought of herself as a third-generation Asian American.

“I honestly don’t think it’s a label I’ve ever once used to describe myself,” she says. “I don’t think either of my parents are really cognizant of that label.”

Bhat, who is second-generation on her Indian side and third-generation on her Thai side, identifies as mixed-Asian rather than using generational labels. Her father immigrated from India and her mother’s parents immigrated from Thailand, yet neither language was passed down to her.

“I feel like I didn’t partake in the hallmark second-generation experience of growing up with those ethnic languages at home,” Bhat says.

Bhat began engaging more intentionally with Asian American experiences in high school. Even then, she says that within South Asian student groups, many members questioned the term “Asian American” as it applied to themselves, feeling that their communities had historically been excluded.

Despite this, Bhat actively participates in organizing and arts initiatives within the broader Asian diaspora at NU, including Unfolded Zine, a publication started by APAC that brings together Pan-Asian perspectives.

“An acceptance”

SESP third-year Kris Yun identifies as a third-generation Asian American, though she notes the generational line is somewhat blurred because her parents immigrated as children.

With parents who were highly Americanized, the line between home and the outside world felt less divided, she says.

“I think that instead of having the dichotomy between your American self and your Asian self, for me it became more of a blend between the two,” says Yun. “I feel like that model of being divided between two different worlds doesn’t quite encapsulate my experience.”

Yun said she rarely discussed race or immigration with her grandparents. Instead, she mostly learned about their experiences through her parents. While her grandparents identify as Korean Americans, her parents experienced the second-generation challenge of balancing Korean traditions at home with American life outside.

Yun still participates in cultural traditions, including making dumplings for Lunar New Year and attending a Korean church while growing up. However, she says that not being able to speak her ethnic language adds complexity to how others perceive her cultural identity.

“To other people … not being able to speak Korean or not having these markers of cultural identity are seen as deficiencies,” says Yun, recognizing that others may consider her “Americanized” or “whitewashed.”

Regardless, Yun still says being a third-generation Asian American has been “an acceptance,” or a celebration of her everyday experience.

“It’s an identity that I love,” she says.