Take my life, for example. I grew up with immigrant parents, in the hood, raised by a single parent. For a long time, I saw that as a disadvantage. But looking back, man—I’ve got stories. I’ve been bullied, called every name in the book, but I was also respected and well-liked. I stood out not just because I was different, but because I represented something positive in a mostly Black community. And my hope is that my presence shifted how some people saw Asians in general. That’s the kind of impact you can’t buy.
Now take my white friend. He had every privilege imaginable. Followed the safe, traditional path. Got a steady job, played it by the book. No real hardship. No adversity. Nothing wrong with that—but when you reflect back, which life tells the better story?
