Last summer, one of my goals was to only read books written by people vastly different than me. I didn’t read any book by a white author or a female who had a similar life experience to mine. (What I mean here is that I read books by white females who were homosexual or who struggled with mental illness rather than books by white females who were straight or Christian like myself.) It was really challenging but led me to some seriously fantastic literature. It also lead me to some not-so-great literature as well. This blog post is not about all the books I read or why I forced myself to read these books: that’s another story. This post is about one of the books I read during this time and how it came to change my perspective months after I finished reading the novel. The book to which I am referring is To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han. Even though Jenny Han is American, went to UNC-Chapel Hill, and appears to have had a life relatively similar to my own, Jenny Han is also Asian. She’s written a lot of popular young adult books, and I wanted to read the one I kept seeing pop up in YA blogs.

Honestly, I didn’t like this book. Despite a pretty unique concept (Lara Jean writes letters to all the boys she has crushes on but never sends them. One day, she wakes up to find that someone has sent the letters, and she must deal with the ramifications.), I thought the writing was pretty weak and the characterization was horrendous. For a high school student, Lara Jean acts like a middle schooler, teetering between unrealistically naive and head-achingly annoying. I did make it through the whole book if only because I was relatively interested in the plot of the novel. When I finished, I was uninterested in finishing the three-book series. In fact, after this, I actively avoided reading any novels that had any romance in them whatsoever–until a student changed my mind.

I was surprised to see a student of mine reading To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before in my classroom one day. It’s important to note, also, that this student was the only Asian student I taught that semester. Normally, it wouldn’t be so unusual to see a student reading a YA book like Jenny Han’s, but this particular student typically read books that were way above her grade level, and I had never seen her with a romance novel before. I interrupted her reading to ask her what she thought of the book. The student said something like this: “It’s okay. I don’t think it’s very good, but it’s written by an Asian woman and, well, you know, I wanted to read something about someone like me.”

It’s okay. I don’t think it’s very good, but it’s written by an Asian woman and, well, you know, I wanted to read something about someone like me.

Representation in literature (as well as movies and TV) is so important. Recently, black actors, actresses, writers, and directors have been in the spotlight as movies like Moonlight, Fences, Black Panther, and Get Out achieve popularity in mainstream (i.e. white) culture. Plus, there are a slew of YA novels focused on black protagonists. Now, I’m not about to argue that black people have enough representation (because they don’t), but I wanted to point out that things have also been challenging for the Asian community. My student, who has read every Jenny Han and Marie Lu novel, struggles to find representation of herself in books, TV shows, and movies. And, if she’s lucky enough to find that representation, it’s often a stereotype. For example, in To Every Boy I’ve Loved Before, Laura Jean loves Sixteen Candles but also points out how incredibly racist the character of Long Duck Dong is. Another example of negative portrayal of Asians is the character of I. Y. Yunioshi in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. While this is another movie I love, it’s problematic, mainly because Yunioshi is a Japanese stereotype played by Mickey Rooney in yellow face. (Rooney himself has spoke about this in a 2008 interview.) Really, the point I’m trying to make is that just as black people are often portrayed as “ghetto”, thug, criminal, or a sports icon, Asian people are portrayed as the ignorant foreigner with broken English or a wise martial artist. And, be honest: other than the occasional Lucy Liu flick, when is the last time you saw an Asian woman cast in anything? (Shout out to Crazy Rich Asians for changing this!)

And, be honest: other than the occasional Lucy Liu flick, when is the last time you saw an Asian woman cast in anything?

After contemplating what my student said, researching Asian representation in media, and generally reexamining why I didn’t like To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, I came to a new conclusion. I don’t have to like the book, but I have to appreciate its importance. Ergo, this summer I read Crazy Rich Asians. I didn’t want to even though it’s been popular for a few years. It’s not really my type of book, but I just kept thinking about my student and how important it is to support positive representation of minorities. So, I read it anyways–and I loved it! I have not seen the movie yet, but I did watch the movie version of To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before and, you know, I actually really liked it. I felt like it was a genuinely good adaption of the book. The casting was perfect, and it didn’t leave out or change that much of the plot.

My student really made me reconsider representation. I’ve always known it was important, but it never really mattered to me on a personal level until she told me why it was important to her. Then, it clicked. I suddenly saw this world where no one looked like her. It’s difficult to even imagine what that would be like, but I assume it would be incredibly discouraging. But now, I’m going to go out and get the new Sandhya Menon book because, even though I didn’t really like When Dimple Met Rishi, every race–Indian, Asian, black, whoever–deserves to read about someone who looks like them and has experiences like them, and the only way they’re going to be able to do this is if books, movies, and TV shows created by POCs have support in the larger community of readers and watchers. So, do yourself and the larger world of people a favor and start watching Dear White People on Netflix or buy a ticket to see The Hate U Give or Crazy Rich Asians in theatres or check out The Children of Blood and Bone from your local library (or these other 2018 diverse reads). You just might actually find something you really love or, at the very least, learn a little bit about someone who’s different from you.

–M