The first time I heard the term DEI and its associated acronym BIPOC was in high school post-pandemic, and back then, it held some sense. America, as a melting pot of ethnicities, races, heritages and histories, is naturally prone to instances of identity-based prejudices because there are so many visible differences between its citizens. As humans, we like our in-groups — it’s a psychological phenomenon — and with the rise of political polarization, identity-based politics, and fear-mongering, we are particularly alert to any threats to our group. And because humans are visual creatures, we make judgements based on surface-level, appearance-based differences.
The main argument for DEI goes like this: Because certain minority groups (particularly those in the BIPOC categories) have faced historical prejudices (and the argument goes, still face oppression today), there needs to be a continued sustained effort to equalize opportunities and outcomes, especially in economic areas.
In theory, that sounds awesome. Who would disagree with helping others succeed? But the means by which that goal is achieved warrants some critique.
Am I historically oppressed?
I grew up in the Bay Area, in a STEM-centric high school. All of my classmates went into STEM fields, and most were (admittedly) Asian. I remember looking at summer program applications that encouraged historically underrepresented BIPOC students to apply. As the “POC” stands for “person-of-color,” I thought, technically, being Asian puts me into the BIPOC category. I even searched it up on Google: “Does Asian count as BIPOC?” and found that it was a common question among confused young people too embarrassed to talk about it openly because anything remotely controversial was taboo. It was — and still is — quite a joke among us students whether or not to check the box of “visible minority” when prompted. We would laugh and say, “It depends!”
In this case, the consensus was, Asians in STEM did not count as BIPOC.
What about other fields?
When I was querying one of my books a couple of years ago, I faced the same question but arrived at a different answer. Because there were so few Asians in the arts and humanities (relative to STEM), my identity — which I cared so little about prior to the obsession with DEI — suddenly became an asset. Being Asian absolutely counted as some membership into a historically marginalized group. I had two points, actually: I am Asian, and I am a woman. Never had I ever felt in any way oppressed — in fact, quite the opposite — but in this new context, something about my race and gender undoubtedly gave me an advantage: treating people differently based on their race and gender. Isn’t that the very definition of racism?
So we have the issue of drawing the borders around BIPOC. There is no strict line: what counts? What doesn’t? Is it contextual? It shouldn’t be — the principle behind DEI is that certain groups have been marginalized and oppressed based on ethnicity. In that case, why do I count as “marginalized” in publishing but not in STEM? That is, unless the justification is to ignore the past and only focus on diversifying in the present: a STEM company may look at their demographics report and say, “We have too many Asians, we have to diversify our workforce” while a publishing house may say, “We don’t have enough Asian authors, we have to diversify our bookshelf”. If that’s the case, which it seems to be, then the whole argument behind DEI built on historical oppression falls apart.
Now, of course, advocates of DEI will argue that the underlying purpose is morally right. I agree with that. But does the means justify the ends? And more importantly, are the means even able to reach the ends? Since the introduction of DEI, I have seen more division in my local communities as people reduce themselves to parts of their identity that say nothing at all about their character.
DEI Overseas
Being fundamentally a Western invention, the whole concept of DEI/BIPOC fails to hold in international contexts. I spent my last semester in Taiwan, followed by a month in China, and I will be spending the next four months in Seoul. Though I am sure I still have a lot to learn, I have observed enough to make some general observations.
I actually only arrived in Seoul a week ago, and as part of our orientation, students were required to attend the University’s DEI/BIPOC training session. In San Francisco, that made sense — it was surely American culture. But in South Korea, which is one of the most ethnically homogenous countries in the world with a 96% ethnic Korean population, I was not exactly sure what “historically represented” referred to. Again, the same problem. Did Asians count as BIPOC? Technically yes. But in Asia? Well… the speaker couldn’t give an answer to that either.
Going back to my introduction: humans naturally spot differences. It’s hard-wired into our brains as a survival method to form groups with people similar to you and cast a wary eye at those who are different.
In Asia, being non-Asian instantly sets you apart, just the same as being Asian in a predominately White community does. I did not have this experience firsthand, but I can reasonably postulate that a White individual growing up in an Asian country will feel set apart from the rest; stared at; just different. They would certainly face appearance-based prejudices that may stretch across generations depending on the family. You would not tell that individual that they are the oppressors in this situation.
But, the definition of BIPOC is rigid as much as it is indeterminate: quite a curious paradox. “White people,” the guest speaker said in response, “are never considered BIPOC.” And that was the end of the conversation.
Outside of the Western world, you will rarely find the terms “DEI” or “BIPOC” anywhere. Most of my international classmates had never even heard of those terms before and thought it was quite funny that some Americans had deemed them “oppressed” simply because of their skin color.
Does this only apply to Western countries? If so, then making generalizations about a group based on ethnicity does not make sense — and maybe we should leave the rest of the world out of it.
It’s a controversial take, but…
it’s food for thought!
One of the things that got me searching about DEI/BIPOC on the internet in the first place was that I didn’t want to challenge the idea out loud. Many of the recent social movements have become a symbol of morality (think, “If you don’t support this, then you are morally bad”), and people are afraid of asking questions because they don’t want to risk their reputations.
Regardless of the topic, we should be encouraging conversation and open dialogue. Any good debate pushes us closer to the truth, whether or not we are right. So let’s talk about it! What are your thoughts on this topic? Let me know in the comments : )
Thanks for sharing these significant thoughts on the topic! I’ve also experienced tension seeing this play out in traveling to Guatemala, where comments were made that wouldn’t in the US, but so much of that is because contextually Guatemala is so different front the US. I’ve also see the tension for friends who are a part of typically marginalized and/or underrepresented communities but appear to be white and wondering “what about me?”
Talking about DEI in SK seems going too far. To me, trying to associate anything with skin colors is the problem.