I. The Provocation: Generational Tensions in the Immigrant Experience
The provocation at the heart of this generational conflict between first- and second-generation Chinese Americans is not a rejection of immigration itself, but a pointed critique of the assumptions that have underpinned the immigrant journey. Second-generation Chinese Americans, often referred to as ABCs (American-born Chinese), argue that their parents’ pursuit of the “American Dream” was shaped by outdated beliefs forged during a time when China was weak, and America appeared to be an undeniable symbol of success. For these children, the tradeoff made by their parents—immigrating to the U.S. to escape China’s instability—feels increasingly unnecessary and costly, as they find themselves caught between two worlds: racial minorities in the U.S. and culturally disconnected from China.
For first-generation immigrants, however, the decisions made to leave China were based on radically different conditions, during the 1980s and 1990s, a period when China’s rise was uncertain and America represented the promise of stability and opportunity. For them, immigration was not a betrayal of their heritage but a strategic choice to minimize risk in a volatile environment. They view the criticisms from their children as historically unfair, judging past decisions based on today’s information, a perspective they argue is shaped by the relative comfort and prosperity of the present.
Ultimately, this conflict is not about moral right or wrong, but about the clash of timing, uncertainty, and differing outcomes. It underscores the generational divide where the children question the assumptions of the past, while the parents stand by the decisions made under very different circumstances. This tension reflects a larger conversation about the evolving nature of identity, belonging, and the cost of the pursuit of the American Dream.
II. The Core Misdiagnosis: The Struggle for Identity and Legitimacy
The core misdiagnosis that often emerges in discussions about conflicted American-born Chinese (ABCs), particularly men, is the accusation that they “want to be white but can’t.” This simplification overlooks the deeper, more complex reality of their struggle. What many ABCs truly seek is not to assimilate into whiteness, but to gain membership in the dominant group—where power, authority, and social legitimacy are often concentrated. In the U.S., race functions as a gatekeeper, and as ABCs come of age, they realize that the ideological promise of equality they were raised on—”Everyone is equal”—is structurally false. This realization breeds not a sense of self-hatred, but a profound sense of betrayed expectation.
Alongside this frustration, a second, conflicting desire arises: Many ABCs, while grappling with their American identity, also long to reconnect with their Chinese heritage. However, their access to this cultural identity is blocked. Lacking proficiency in the Chinese language, cultural competence, and even nationality, they find themselves alienated from both the dominant white culture and their ancestral roots. This creates a unique predicament: they are neither failed whites nor failed Chinese, but a group that has never been afforded the space to define itself fully.
In essence, the core misdiagnosis lies in the oversimplification of the ABC experience. These individuals are not merely caught between two worlds—they are a group without a clear identity, struggling to reconcile the promises of their American upbringing with the realities of their cultural disconnect. Their anger stems not from a desire to abandon their roots, but from the frustration of being unable to fully belong to either world.
III. The American Social Structure: Power Beneath Liberal Ideology
Despite the progressive rhetoric that characterizes American society, the country remains deeply entrenched in patriarchal structures, often disguised under the veneer of liberal ideals. The assumptions embedded in the American social fabric, such as school schedules that expect stay-at-home mothers, the lack of universal maternity leave, and the pressure on women to return to work immediately after childbirth, highlight the gap between the ideal of gender equality and the lived reality. For immigrants, especially those who arrive with the expectation that America stands as a beacon of gender equality, these systemic inequities are often a profound shock.
In addition to gender inequality, the American definition of masculinity is shaped by physicality, dominance, and economic power. Male status is often measured by traits like height, assertiveness, aggression, and economic success—values that institutions and society reward. The case of Steubenville, Ohio, where a football team was initially protected by the local police and community after gang-raping a girl, exemplifies how athletic and masculine dominance can trump moral and legal considerations. This patriarchal and physical ideal is the social environment that Asian men, in particular, must navigate, where traditional masculinity is often in direct conflict with the cultural values they bring with them, leaving them in a constant struggle for legitimacy.
IV. Cultural Mismatch: Asian Upbringing vs. American Selection Systems
The cultural values instilled in many Asian families, such as respect, modesty, turn-taking, and an emphasis on academic merit over self-promotion, often create structural disadvantages in American institutions. These values, which are deeply rooted in the upbringing of Asian immigrants and their children, can be misinterpreted in the U.S. as signs of weakness or passivity. As Elaine Chao, former U.S. Secretary of Transportation, famously observed, “I waited my turn to speak—but my turn never came.” This is not a reflection of personal failure, but rather an example of an institutional mismatch, where cultural norms do not align with the expectations of American systems that prioritize self-promotion and assertiveness.
For American-born Chinese (ABCs), these cultural discrepancies manifest in a series of stacked disadvantages. Many Asian men face challenges like shorter average height, which can influence perceptions of physical presence and leadership. Additionally, assertiveness—often discouraged in the home—becomes a necessary trait for success in the U.S., but this cultural conflict creates a deep internal struggle. Without strong ethnic patronage networks to rely on, ABCs are often left feeling like outsiders, urged to “be American” while simultaneously being denied the authority to define what that truly means. This cultural mismatch in upbringing versus American selection systems can lead to a sense of alienation and frustration as they navigate a society that rewards behaviors contrary to the values they were raised with.
V. Historical Waves of Chinese Immigration and the Divergent Paths of Their Descendants
The historical waves of Chinese immigration to the United States have produced markedly different descendant experiences, shaped less by ethnicity alone than by timing, political context, and survival strategies. Each wave carried distinct constraints and incentives, which in turn shaped how Chinese identity was preserved, suppressed, or transformed across generations. Understanding these differences is essential to explaining why some descendants experience relative cultural stability, while others face profound identity conflict.
The earliest pre–World War II Chinese immigrants were brought largely as expendable labor and subjected to extreme racial violence, including massacres, exclusion laws, and forms of internment. For this group, assimilation was not a choice but a condition of survival, often requiring the near-erasure of Chinese identity. Many of their descendants today internalize this history by viewing Chinese culture as a stigma, distancing themselves from newer immigrants, and, in some cases, unconsciously reinforcing the very racial premises that once targeted their ancestors.
A later wave, consisting largely of immigrants from Taiwan and Hong Kong between the 1950s and 1980s, arrived under a different global configuration shaped by the Cold War. These immigrants often had greater access to education, stronger institutional support, and more opportunity to maintain bilingualism and transnational ties. Their children frequently grew up bilingual, traveled regularly, and retained a dual identity that reduced existential conflict. For them, being Chinese and being American were not experienced as mutually exclusive.
The most psychologically conflicted group emerged from mainland Chinese immigration in the late 1980s and 1990s. These parents were shaped by the Cultural Revolution, famine, and political persecution, and thus viewed America as absolute safety rather than a negotiable tradeoff. Operating under the assumption that “anything is better than China,” many embraced beliefs equating whiteness with success and treated Chinese culture as an obstacle to be erased. Practices such as English-only households, blocking contact with grandparents, and framing Chinese language as harmful to assimilation reflected a survival logic that could not anticipate China’s eventual rise.
Undocumented Chinese immigrants represent the most structurally vulnerable group. Long hours in survival labor left little time or energy for cultural transmission, and their children often came to associate “Chinese” identity with poverty, invisibility, and shame. Statistically and socially, these descendants face the greatest risks and the fewest buffers. Across all waves, the divergent outcomes of Chinese American descendants reveal that identity formation is not simply inherited, but historically produced—shaped by fear, hope, and the limits of what each generation believed was possible.
VI. Language Loss as Cultural and Material Loss
Language loss is often mischaracterized as merely symbolic, when in reality it represents both cultural erosion and material deprivation. Language functions as capital, conferring access to social networks, employment opportunities, and everyday competence. In cities such as Vancouver, service-sector jobs frequently require Chinese-language proficiency, yet many American-born Chinese are excluded from these opportunities despite their ethnic appearance. The mismatch between how they are perceived and what they can linguistically perform exposes the tangible costs of language loss. Similar dislocations appear abroad, where some Western-raised Chinese students find themselves unable to perform basic tasks—such as ordering food—in China, rendering them culturally legible yet functionally disabled.
Crucially, this loss is not an inevitable outcome of immigration. Empirical experience consistently shows that bilingual children do not, as a rule, lose competence in English. The abandonment of heritage languages is therefore best understood as an ideological choice, rooted in assimilationist fears rather than cognitive necessity. In this sense, language loss reflects not a natural tradeoff, but a preventable forfeiture—one that diminishes both cultural continuity and practical power across borders.
VII. Permanent In-Between Status and the Loss of Choice
The defining condition of many American-born Chinese (ABCs) is a permanent in-between status marked by double exclusion. Within white-dominated American society, they are often stereotyped as diligent and technically competent yet deemed unsuitable for leadership or social authority. At the same time, when encountering Chinese nationals, they are frequently told, “You look Chinese, but you aren’t really Chinese,” signaling cultural disqualification from the very heritage they are presumed to embody. This dual rejection leaves little room for stable belonging on either side.
What intensifies this condition is the asymmetry of choice across generations. First-generation parents retain the option—symbolic or real—of returning to China, reclaiming language, culture, and national legitimacy if circumstances shift. Their children, by contrast, cannot. Lacking full acceptance in either society, they are locked into a position they did not choose. It is this loss of exit, rather than mere identity confusion, that constitutes the core trauma of permanent in-betweenness.
VIII. Gendered Racial Hierarchies and Unequal Burdens
Gendered racial hierarchies shape markedly different outcomes for Asian men and women, producing asymmetrical pressures within the same ethnic group. Asian men often encounter bullying in school, persistent dating disadvantages, and a pattern of desexualization that limits how they are socially perceived. These early experiences frequently translate into adulthood as informal leadership ceilings, where technical competence is acknowledged but authority and charisma are withheld. Even highly successful figures, such as Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang, have publicly described severe bullying in their youth, underscoring how early racialized gendering can leave lasting psychological and social marks.
Asian women, by contrast, tend to experience greater social acceptance within mainstream American society and are statistically more likely to marry white men. While this does not eliminate discrimination, it places them differently within the racial hierarchy, often granting smoother access to social validation and mobility. The resulting gender asymmetry—where men experience exclusion and stagnation while women experience conditional inclusion—can fuel resentment, misunderstanding, and psychological fracture within the community. This divide is not merely interpersonal, but structural, reflecting how race and gender intersect to distribute dignity, desire, and opportunity unevenly.
IX. Career Ceilings and Network Gaps
Career advancement for many American-born Chinese (ABCs), particularly in relationship-based fields, is constrained less by ability than by gaps in trust and social capital. They are often perceived as not sufficiently “local” to earn the informal confidence of white networks, while simultaneously being judged as not “authentic” enough to be fully trusted by Chinese counterparts. This dual skepticism places them at a structural disadvantage in professions where relationships, sponsorship, and insider credibility matter as much as formal qualifications.
As a result, traditional markers of merit such as grades, credentials, and technical competence prove insufficient. Without access to dense patronage networks on either side, ABCs encounter invisible ceilings that limit mobility despite strong performance. These constraints highlight how career outcomes are shaped not only by individual effort, but by social belonging—an arena in which ABCs are persistently positioned at the margins.
X. Coping Strategies Among ABCs and the Absence of Collective Power
In response to structural exclusion and chronic in-betweenness, American-born Chinese (ABCs) have developed a range of coping strategies aimed at individual survival rather than collective resolution. These include total de-Chinese-ization, in which cultural markers are minimized or erased; subservience to WASP power structures through overconformity; retreat into technical meritocracy, where competence is treated as a substitute for influence; whitening through marriage as a pathway to social legitimacy; and, at the opposite extreme, identity reversal or heightened ethnic assertion as an act of resistance.
Despite their differences, all of these strategies share a common limitation: they are fundamentally individualistic responses to systemic conditions. None generates durable collective power, institutional leverage, or shared political voice. As a result, they may alleviate personal tension or provide localized mobility, but they leave the underlying structures intact. The diversity of coping mechanisms thus reflects not fragmentation of character, but the absence of a viable collective pathway through which ABCs can redefine status, belonging, and authority on their own terms.
XI. Absence of Community Solidarity and the Costs of Fragmentation
A defining weakness in the Chinese American experience is the absence of sustained community solidarity, especially when contrasted with other minority groups. Jewish Americans have built durable institutions, Black Americans have forged powerful cultural influence, Irish Americans achieved symbolic dominance within mainstream identity, Latinos wield collective power through language, and Indian Americans increasingly practice overt group assertion. These forms of solidarity translate into political leverage, narrative control, and mutual protection—assets that Chinese Americans have largely failed to consolidate.
Instead, Chinese American communities often fragment internally, avoid direct confrontation, and displace responsibility onto abstract forces such as “the government” rather than organizing around accountable leadership. The controversy surrounding California’s SCA-5 illustrates this pattern. Despite Chinese American politicians supporting policies widely viewed as harmful to the community—including positions on affirmative action, ethnic data disaggregation, and sanctuary policies—there was little sustained internal reckoning or attribution of responsibility. Mobilization occurred episodically, but blame was diffused and leadership went largely unchallenged.
This absence of solidarity is not rooted in apathy, but in a long-standing aversion to conflict and collective risk-taking. Without mechanisms to enforce accountability or align interests, Chinese Americans struggle to convert numbers and resources into durable power. The result is a community that reacts defensively rather than strategically, and that repeatedly forfeits opportunities to shape outcomes in its own name.
XII. Psychology of the Second Generation and the Burden of Unresolved Identity
The psychology of the second generation is marked by a heightened and often unresolved identity crisis, closely aligned with Erik Erikson’s account of developmental conflict. Erikson describes identity crisis as an intense period of self-reflection driven by competing desires for individuality and communal belonging. For many second-generation individuals, this conflict is sharper than it was for their parents. First-generation immigrants often compare themselves upward to China, retaining a coherent narrative of sacrifice, progress, and alternative belonging. The second generation, by contrast, lacks a compensatory story that explains exclusion while preserving dignity.
Without a stable framework for meaning or belonging, the second generation is more exposed to negative outcomes. Experiences of bullying, social isolation, addiction, and family fracture are not merely personal failings, but symptoms of unresolved identity under structural constraint. The absence of a viable collective narrative leaves individuals to internalize contradictions they did not create.
This divergence is often visible even within the same family. In illustrative cases, an older child who returns to China may find coherence, opportunity, and psychological stability, while a younger sibling raised entirely in the United States struggles, sometimes spiraling into addiction or dysfunction. Such contrasts highlight how identity resolution is not only cultural but situational, shaped by whether an individual has access to a society that affirms their legitimacy. The second generation’s psychological burden thus reflects not excess sensitivity, but the cost of growing up without a place where one fully belongs.
XIII. China’s Rise as an Identity Disruptor
China’s rise after 2000 fundamentally disrupted the identity assumptions under which many American-born Chinese (ABCs) were raised. As China’s economic and geopolitical stature grew, the Chinese language shifted from being treated as a liability to functioning as valuable capital. China was no longer widely perceived as backward or irrelevant, and bicultural competence—once discouraged or suppressed—began to carry tangible social and professional value.
This shift forced many ABCs to re-evaluate earlier choices and inherited strategies. Practices of over-assimilation and cultural amputation, once justified as necessary for survival or success, began to look premature and costly. At the same time, the visible confidence of international Chinese students—often bilingual, mobile, and culturally grounded—triggered a sense of envy and regret. China’s rise thus acted not only as a global transformation, but as a personal reckoning, exposing how historical timing reshaped identity outcomes across generations.
XIV. Comparative Illustration: Yao Ming vs. Jeremy Lin and the Power of National Identity
A comparison between Yao Ming and Jeremy Lin in the NBA offers a clear illustration of how national identity mediates racial treatment in the United States. Both players are of Chinese descent, yet their experiences differed markedly. Jeremy Lin, a Chinese American, was frequently underestimated and mocked by opponents, commentators, and even peers. Scouts and coaches often doubted his legitimacy, and incidents such as public ridicule by former players symbolized a broader pattern of dismissal. His path into professional basketball was marked by exclusion—limited recruitment by elite college programs and a persistent sense that his presence required constant justification.
Yao Ming’s experience stood in sharp contrast. Drafted first overall, he entered the league with institutional validation and was treated as a representative of a powerful foreign nation rather than a racially marginal American minority. His teammates openly supported and protected him, and while some league veterans initially expressed skepticism, this posture quickly shifted into respect. Even moments of interpersonal tension were absorbed without lasting stigma. Crucially, this differential treatment cannot be reduced to differences in athletic skill alone. The NBA is filled with fringe and role players whose social acceptance is not contingent on star performance, and players of lesser ability than either Lin or Yao were rarely subjected to racialized disrespect from teammates.
The key distinction lies in identity positioning. Yao Ming was perceived as “foreign Chinese,” backed by a nation-state with growing global stature, while Jeremy Lin was perceived as an “Asian American,” subject to domestic racial hierarchies. National identity functioned as a buffer against prejudice, granting Yao an assumed legitimacy that Lin was denied. This comparison underscores a broader pattern: racial bias operates differently when filtered through national power, and the protections afforded by foreign prestige do not extend to minorities whose identities are defined solely within the American racial order.
XV. Grass-Is-Greener Dynamics and Reciprocal Idealization
A persistent grass-is-greener dynamic shapes how American-born Chinese (ABCs) and mainland Chinese perceive one another’s societies. ABCs often idealize China as a place of greater dignity, belonging, and cultural ease, imagining it as a refuge from marginalization in the West. Conversely, mainland Chinese frequently romanticize Western societies as fairer, more civilized, and more rule-bound, projecting onto them an ideal of impartial opportunity and social justice. In both cases, the object of desire is less a concrete reality than a symbolic solution to dissatisfaction at home.
This reciprocal idealization is driven by the same psychological mechanism: people tend to romanticize what they lack. Each group selectively perceives the strengths of the other society while minimizing or overlooking its costs. In reality, both China and the West involve complex tradeoffs, and neither offers unqualified belonging or fairness. Dissatisfaction amplifies selective perception, reinforcing myths on both sides and obscuring the structural constraints that shape lived experience. The grass-is-greener dynamic thus reflects not ignorance, but the human tendency to imagine elsewhere as whole when one’s present feels incomplete.
XVI. Reassessing the Inheritance: When ABCs Re-evaluate Their Parents’ Choices
For much of the late twentieth century, particularly from the 1980s through the early 2000s, many Chinese parents regarded immigration to the United States as an unquestionable upgrade. Cleaner air, higher incomes, reduced academic pressure, and the promise of a “better future” formed a compelling narrative of progress. Securing U.S. citizenship for their children—whether through early immigration or birth—was treated as a strategic investment that guaranteed English fluency, global mobility, and access to Western opportunity. At the time, this decision appeared rational, forward-looking, and irreversible in its benefits.
As China’s rapid rise after 2000 reshaped global power and prestige, however, many American-born Chinese (ABCs) began to re-evaluate their parents’ choices. China was no longer uniformly seen as backward, the Chinese language acquired clear economic value, and Chinese citizenship or status increasingly functioned as an advantage rather than a liability. Against this backdrop, some ABCs came to feel that they had been over-assimilated and culturally amputated by decisions made on their behalf. Observing international Chinese students—often bilingual, confident, and socially respected—intensified this reassessment and fueled the sentiment that their roots had been sacrificed for a dream that no longer fully made sense.
This reassessment does not necessarily frame the past as betrayal, but as a product of historical constraint. Many post-2000 Chinese parents, shaped by different conditions, now approach identity with greater confidence, wealth, and linguistic flexibility, accepting coexistence rather than erasure. In this light, earlier choices become lessons rather than crimes. The core shift lies in perspective: ABCs are no longer passively inheriting their parents’ narrative of progress, but actively reinterpreting it in light of a world that has fundamentally changed.
XVII. Conclusion: From Inherited Choices to Conscious Identity
The pain experienced by many American-born Chinese is real, but it must be understood as historically conditioned rather than the result of individual malice or simple misjudgment. Their parents acted rationally under deep uncertainty, making immigration an all-in bet on a single imagined future at a time when China’s rise was neither visible nor predictable. What unfolded was not a moral failure of immigration itself, but a structural failure to anticipate how identity would be shaped, constrained, and negotiated across generations.
The deeper problem was identity outsourcing—the assumption that identity could be safely delegated to the host society and absorbed intact by the next generation. Identity, however, is not inherited whole. It must be rebuilt consciously within new historical conditions, or it will be borrowed poorly from dominant narratives that were never designed to include full belonging. When this rebuilding does not occur, assimilation becomes fragile, and belonging remains conditional.
The path forward lies neither in striving for acceptance through white assimilation nor in retreating into retroactive nationalism. It requires cultural self-recognition, deliberate language retention, greater community density, and sustained political participation. Above all, it demands confidence rooted in historical understanding rather than apology or resentment. Only through these means can Chinese Americans move beyond the pursuit of second-class membership in someone else’s mainstream and begin to shape a collective future on their own terms.
References
- “Don’t jeopardize your children’s future just to achieve your own ‘dreams.’ Parents who easily immigrate to the United States should carefully consider the specific pros and cons of immigration for their children”. January 16, 2017. https://bbs.wenxuecity.com/znjy/3435416.html
- “Asian American writes emotional essay to Chinese parents – Do not immigrate to America, your kids will suffer”. January 17, 2017. https://www.reddit.com/r/aznidentity/comments/5ogll7/asian_american_writes_emotional_essay_to_chinese/