NEW YORK — At 12 Pell barbershop nestled in Chinatown, Manhattan, a steady stream of clients walks through the door, seeking not just haircuts but also a sense of belonging. The atmosphere is vibrant, and the young barbers—mainly Asian American—engage their customers through lively social media posts filled with humor, advice, and confidence that resonates with men and teens from various backgrounds.
Karho Leung, 34, a co-founder of 12 Pell and a proud son of Chinatown, aimed to create a business that reflects his identity and his aspiration to “build the world that I want to live in … without asking for permission.” This drive to carve out one’s own path and amplify one’s voice embodies a quintessentially American ethos, a sentiment echoed by many Asian Americans in his generation who are actively shaping their narratives.
However, this American experience has not always been universally accessible, especially for Asian Americans from earlier generations. Historically, generations of Asian immigrants faced obstacles in establishing their own identities in a society that often viewed them through a lens of foreignness. With limited community representation and scant knowledge of their cultures amongst the mainstream population, defining their identities was challenging. The absence of platforms like social media now made it difficult for individuals to express their uniqueness.
Once this lack of understanding manifested itself through enduring stereotypes that suggested differences in culture and behavior—from language barriers to perceptions of being overly meek or academically inclined—these harmful narratives often exacerbated feelings of alienation within the community. However, the modern cultural landscape contrasts sharply. With globalization, American diets influenced by various world cuisines, and cultural practices such as yoga and diverse festivals becoming commonplace, Asian American communities are now much more visible. As a result, Leung, along with many others, finds that the weight of these stereotypes no longer impacts him in the same way they did for previous generations.
“It’s amusing because while I noticed the stereotypes around me growing up, it never really registered that they were obstacles I had to confront,” Leung explains.
Jeff Yang, 56, a veteran writer who has focused on Asian American culture, reflects on his upbringing, acknowledging the stark differences he experienced. “I grew up in an environment where my identity felt entirely dictated by non-Asians. The narratives about me were constructed outside my community,” he shares, highlighting a cultural disconnection that remains pertinent today.
Similarly, Simran Anand, 27, remembers her own upbringing in Reading, Pennsylvania, where she was one of only a few South Asian families. Though she felt the cultural isolation felt by earlier generations, she also had access to larger South Asian communities nearby. This allowed her to blend her dual heritage creatively, as demonstrated by her jewelry brand, BySimran, which draws from South Asian aesthetics while catering to contemporary American tastes.
“I am both American and South Asian,” Anand affirms. “Embracing both identities is not mutually exclusive.”
Demetri Manabat, 23, resonates with this idea. Raised in Las Vegas in a multicultural household with a Filipino father and a Mexican mother, he acknowledges the challenges his parents faced growing up. They didn’t teach him or his siblings Filipino or Spanish due to the stigmas attached to being multilingual during their childhood. However, the perception of language has evolved, offering him and his peers a different sense of belonging.
Alex Paik, a 43-year-old Korean American artist, reflects on the past and observes a shift in cultural narratives today. Having grown up in a predominantly white neighborhood, he often felt at odds with both sides of his identity. Watching his daughter, who appreciates modern stories centered around Asian American girls, excites him. He is curious about the impact of representation on her developing sense of identity. “It must have some effect on her perspective; it’s simply normal for her,” he notes.
Various social factors, including significant growth in Asian American communities since the 1965 immigration reform, globalization, and the advent of technology and social media, have reshaped the landscape for newer generations. Paik believes these changes foster an intricate relationship with their American identity. The sense of belonging that today’s youth experience motivates them to approach life in a way that confidently asserts their place in society.
“When individuals feel entitled to a space, it fundamentally alters their approach,” he explains. “Whether or not that space welcomes you does not matter as much when you approach it with the mindset of belonging.”
This spirit of ownership among younger Asian Americans paves the way for them to carve their own spaces, even if their audacity slightly unnerves older generations. “Previous generations might find our experiences perplexing, but the goal is to create that moment of wonder,” Manabat observes. “This is not just for us; it fulfills the hopes that were long harbored.”
In summary, today’s young Asian Americans are aspiring to create a reality they envision for themselves, no longer seeking permission to do so.