DO YOU SEE ME, 2021
14" x 17"
Ink on Paper
Whether I was aware of it or not, the experiences leading up until now have shaped my perspective about how the world “sees” me. To grow up as an Asian-American women is to face a very particular type of hatred. I did not see a lot of representation growing up. Longing to find an identity, I would latch on to any characters that shared the same features. Often, characters would be subjected to unfavorable stereotypes, or written in as an afterthought. While it might seem innocuous on the surface, the damage is latent and internalized.
Portraits are known to commemorate history's wealthiest and most powerful class of people. As a child walking through the halls of grand marbles and splendid grandeur of art institutions— I did not see any representation of me or my people. This did not just extend to museums, but to textbooks, money, and the media. Consider that Asians and Pacific Islanders account for less than six percent of speaking roles in American cinema. Our portrayals are hardly any better, as we are reduced to hyper sexualized caricatures. We are faced with unfavorable everyday situations— staying silent to racial slurs to gain acceptance and even by our own culture where we are “not really Asian”. It's hard not to feel utterly invisible. Amidst the COVID-19 and the rise of Anti-Asian hate crimes, I have never felt more of an outsider. Which led me to investigate the way Asian-American women's identities have been narrated and warped by social interpretations.
The series is to address and create a meaningful dialogue while dismantling negative stereotypes and challenges that Asian–American women face in the United States. While examining my work, I invite you to ponder the traces of pencils that represents the continuous exploration of self and the negative space— to consider the unseen obstacles that the subjects face as they find their own way amidst a society that upholds a system of discrimination.
Portraits are known to commemorate history's wealthiest and most powerful class of people. As a child walking through the halls of grand marbles and splendid grandeur of art institutions— I did not see any representation of me or my people. This did not just extend to museums, but to textbooks, money, and the media. Consider that Asians and Pacific Islanders account for less than six percent of speaking roles in American cinema. Our portrayals are hardly any better, as we are reduced to hyper sexualized caricatures. We are faced with unfavorable everyday situations— staying silent to racial slurs to gain acceptance and even by our own culture where we are “not really Asian”. It's hard not to feel utterly invisible. Amidst the COVID-19 and the rise of Anti-Asian hate crimes, I have never felt more of an outsider. Which led me to investigate the way Asian-American women's identities have been narrated and warped by social interpretations.
The series is to address and create a meaningful dialogue while dismantling negative stereotypes and challenges that Asian–American women face in the United States. While examining my work, I invite you to ponder the traces of pencils that represents the continuous exploration of self and the negative space— to consider the unseen obstacles that the subjects face as they find their own way amidst a society that upholds a system of discrimination.