When one of the directors of the school district I work for asked me to “speak up more” during meetings, I got defensive. At one meeting, he even forgot I was there and skipped over me when it was my turn to present. I’m a quiet person, but I speak with intention. As a school-based speech-language pathologist, I say what I want to say at staff meetings: Nothing more.
I wish I had the language to describe what happened to me during these meetings . These were microaggressions that invalidated my intersectional identities as a first-generation Filipino-American, a queer man, and a stutterer. My communication style was pathologized. Although Asian Americans are not a monolithic entity, many were raised in a collectivist culture where family comes first. Every intention and action were rooted in familial preservation, and obedience was valued over speaking up. So, when you’re asking me why I’m so quiet and suggesting I be more verbal, you’re also asking me to assimilate to the dominant White culture — to leave my cultural baggage out of it. Although our mainstream culture places heterosexual, cisgender, able-bodied, neurotypical, and White folks as our collective default, I’ve created a space for myself to exist unabashedly with the support from friends who are also part of these minoritized, intersectional communities.