Boba. Raving. Seaside.

The essence of being a SoCal Asian can be captured in a short list, according to a milieu of TikTok users. Shortly after arriving at Northwestern as a transfer from the University of California, Los Angeles, I quickly learned to expect the inevitable question regarding my hometown: Are you one of those SoCal Asians?

From listening to the musician Keshi to playing Valorant, the SoCal Asian label attempts to define an entire subregion of Asian American youth. While the meme has produced a new niche of lighthearted humor, it fits neatly into the long history of racial stereotyping in the United States.

The reputation of SoCal Asians extends beyond California. Weinberg third-year Noelle Terrell moved to Los Angeles in 2016 and, later, to New York City for their first year of college. They say they observed a new trend of negative stereotypes associated with the demographic on social media. They and their friends have noticed a recent spike in Instagram reels that featured skits about “going out with a SoCal Asian.” In these videos, the SoCal Asian is asked a common first-date question (“What do you like to do?”) and responds with a predictable string of words (“Raving, gymming, Valorant...”).

“It may offer a connection between SoCal Asians with the same hobbies, but also categorize some into being shallow and predictable for having them,” Terrell says.

The distinction of SoCal Asians from other Asian Americans — even those who simply live in Southern California — is not only inaccurate at times, but also provokes nuanced discussions about community-bonding and counterculture within the AAPI community. On the subreddit “r/asianamerican,” online users call attention to a perceived SoCal Asian superiority complex, arguing that “Asian Americans outside Southern California believe their peers from the region often doubt their ‘Asianness.’” In the discussion thread, Reddit users suggest that Southern California’s high concentration of Asians are in a bubble that emphasizes social media content about the SoCal Asian stereotype. This cultivates a sense of exclusivity to activities like raving and drinking boba. An article by NBC earlier this year also addresses the complicated view that the Asian American diaspora living outside of California harbors toward SoCal Asians. Some Asians living outside of SoCal suggest that SoCal Asians seem to gatekeep the idea of being Asian based on access to cultural practices.

A main point of contention surrounding the SoCal Asian archetype is who has the power to reinforce these stereotypes. While at times it seems like the “SoCal Asian” is a fabricated identity being used by SoCal Asians to reinforce their “Asian-ness,” the stereotype is perceived negatively by other Asians and TikTok users. In fact, many of my peers and I reject the SoCal Asian label, seeing it more as a caricature of what it means to grow up post-first generation in a concentrated Asian community. In many ways, it seems to me like one of the lies you might tell someone to make them think you’re cool.

“I don’t like when people hear I’m an Asian from SoCal,” says Medill first-year Jonathan Rho. “They automatically assume a lot of things about me. I try to disassociate myself from that.”

Rho, born and raised in Irvine, California, says he faced similar stereotypes. Having lived in Southern California his whole life, he says the idea of the SoCal Asian seems largely fabricated.

Seaside, a donut bakery that Rho used to visit often, has now become the backdrop of several viral videos about SoCal Asian “culture.” While some videos are true to his experience, he says that many local pastimes have been blown out of proportion.

“Jason [@jason.nms] on TikTok has definitely been like a catalyst for this Asian SoCal stereotype,” Rho says. “I’m not sure if he’s even from SoCal, but him going to Seaside and filming all these people outside has really propelled the regional aspect. I used to go to Seaside with my friends, and maybe a year ago, there’d be nobody.”

Rather than the actual associations with the stereotypical SoCal Asian, the perceived abundance of Asian Americans living in Southern California who seem to fit the mold and the accessibility of Asian culture in the area give the archetype its regional specificity.

Although many of the descriptions associated with SoCal Asians seem relatively new, not all of them are. The idea of the ABG and ABB (Asian Baby Boy) are racialized and gendered social labels that indicate promiscuity, a hybridization of Eastern and Western femininity or masculinity and general resistance to the widespread narrative of Asians as “submissive and complacent,” according to an article published in UC Berkeley’s Asian American Research Journal. Author Sammy Wu writes that the term ABG was coined around the 1980s when it stood for “Asian Baby Gangster” and was tied to subculture regarding East and Southeast Asian women who dated gang members. The ABG label has since been widely regarded as the antithesis to popular stereotypes about the hypersexuality and fetishization of Asian women, though its implications still have a negative connotation.

However, the idea of the Asian Baby Girl/Gangster has since evolved to fit a more modern context — one in which some Asian American youth may even self-identify with the labels to reclaim qualities once used to demean them. For post first-generation Asian American social communities, Wu explained the ABG has “evolved into an aesthetic associated with dyed hair, false eyelashes, boba, Greek life, and raves.” Social media seems to validate this aesthetic concept, with many influencers leaning into the stereotype.

However, with this shift in meaning, the ABG has also garnered a reputation of shallowness and superficiality. According to a study of how the ABG is perceived through a Filipina American perspective, the archetype continues to flatten ideas about Southeast Asians and reduce their sense of agency. While encapsulating perceptions of the ABG, the SoCal Asian stereotype has the same effect on its community.

Social media has fueled the rise of a racial archetype that presents Asian American youth with the opportunity to define ourselves beyond the model minority and perpetual foreigner tropes perpetuated by white people. Simultaneously, however, these archetypes still produce more generalizations about Asian Americans. The truth is that many of us don’t want to be essentialized, especially by fellow Asian Americans.

Looking at the broader implications of the SoCal Asian social media craze, it is hard to say whether or not the prevalence of this stereotype will prevail and for how long it will continue to shape perceptions of Asians living in Southern California. The SoCal Asian draws from minor truths about living in SoCal but ultimately fails to accurately capture the vibrance and complexity of the subculture.

When I reminisce about my experience growing up in Southern California, I’m grateful for the tight-knit community in which I grew up. Rather than ABGs and rave culture, the inside jokes I share with my friends about living in SoCal are defined by our experiences attending a competitive public school, speaking a variety of fragmented dialects at home, walking to Zion Market for bottled tea after school and more. Visiting countries outside of North America and now having spent my first few months in the Midwest, I’ve grown to appreciate how my regional identity has informed my relationships with other members of the diaspora, as well as with my own connection to my heritage. Nevertheless, I take pride in being a SoCal Asian, regardless of how we are perceived at large.