IDENTITY COLUMN

Mirador Graphic Designer and Social Media Director Sophia Luo reflects on the complexities of the Asian American identity based on her lived experiences

SOPHIA LUO

Growing up, I never really understood what it meant to be Asian American.

I knew that in February, my grandparents gave me red envelopes containing money (which my parents would immediately confiscate). I knew that my family spoke a language at home that I didn’t hear at school. Yet there were a lot of things I didn’t know. I didn’t know that my friends didn’t eat rice at every meal, or that my skin color made me different. In kindergarten, a boy told me that I didn’t look like him. He pulled the outer corners of his eyes and stared at me with scrutiny. At home, I asked my parents, “Are we yellow?” My mom stared at her five-year-old daughter in shock. How were they supposed to respond?

My favorite fictional characters never looked like me. The few Asian characters I encountered were never the protagonists of the story. Aside from admiring Disney’s Mulan or identifying with J.K. Rowling’s token East-Asian character, Cho Chang, I rarely saw myself represented in the media. Even as I matured and took an interest in more advanced dystopian Young Adult books, characters like Tris Prior from “Divergent” and Katniss Everdeen from “The Hunger Games” still didn’t resemble my appearance.

In middle school, I became blatantly aware that I was different. Living in the Lamorinda area meant that I was always a racial minority among my classmates. I gravitated toward other Asians because they made me feel safe; maybe we found a community in each other. Yet I started questioning my identity. Bitterly, I wished that I was white, and I thought my life would be easier if I was. My eyes stared contemptuously at their reflection in the mirror. I colored my hair, concealing its original shade of black under an artificial brown. I hated my culture, my native language, and my heritage. When my parents spoke to me in Mandarin, they faced a 12-year-old daughter who reprimanded them and told them to speak English. I refused to wear a traditional dress during Chinese New Year celebrations. I stopped speaking Mandarin altogether. I even stopped eating rice.

In my family’s frequent travels, we often spent time with people from China with whom my parents were connected. Whether we were in Canada, Hong Kong, or even rural Italy, their nostalgic conversations were always similar. When I talked to these people who only spoke Mandarin or Cantonese, I often felt embarrassed. My American accent peeked through the limited vocabulary I used, and my words were hesitant in comparison to the quick sentences of a native speaker. Though they all stayed polite and told me I was a great Mandarin speaker, I knew I wasn’t on par with them. Even when surrounded by people who looked like me, I still didn’t fit in.

The COVID-19 pandemic forced me to re-evaluate my identity. In 2020, the increase in racially motivated attacks against Asian-Americans made me incredibly scared. My heart broke for my neighbors, my family, and my entire community. Out of fear, we didn’t visit San Francisco, my mother’s first home in America, for three years. I saw firsthand how it pained her to stay away from the neighborhood she loved so dearly.

In 2021, I learned that I was 37.5% Vietnamese. Elated, my father and I discussed taking my Vietnamese grandfather to his home country once the pandemic ended. Ever since leaving Vietnam at age 12, my 爷爷 (ye-ye), never once had a chance to return to his home. Unfortunately, he passed away this January after COVID-19 complications before I had the chance to bring up this idea, let alone say goodbye.

Dejected after his death, I resolved to make a substantial effort to learn more about my culture and heritage. My family was very supportive of my enthusiasm to relearn my first language. After noticing my newfound interest in learning Chinese, my mother found my old Mandarin notebook, and showed me how to write new characters. 威 (wei) translated to power, 神 (shen) pertained to God, and 飞 (fei) meant to fly. We watched Chinese period dramas and long-running variety shows that I loved as a kid. She gladly encouraged my growing obsession with Chinese celebrities like Song Yuqi and Xiao Zhan, and even helped me navigate Weibo, the Chinese social media app. On one weekend, she even brought me to University of California, Berkeley’s East Asian Library, reading titles on the shelves and happily explaining their meanings to me.

My mother’s father was a Chinese journalist, and he always encouraged me to try to read his books even when I could barely read my own last name. His collection of Chinese artifacts continuously grows, filling his house with prized “chicken blood stones” and snuff bottles from the Qing dynasty. He gifted his grandchildren decorative pieces of jade and agate carved into the image of a tiger or a waterfall. Although I didn’t fully appreciate his presents as a child, I realize now that he gave me pieces of China—physical reminders of my culture.

What does it mean to be Asian American? I still don’t exactly know. Technically, the term was only created 54 years ago by Emma Gee and Yuji Ichioka at UC Berkeley. Different people have different interpretations of it, but I think that’s what makes it so beautiful. “Asian American” encompasses such a wide range of ethnicities and cultures and stories. We aren’t defined by any singular description. All I know is that, to me, my race is the core of my identity. Many aspects about myself will change over time, but I will forever be Asian American.

Students Assist With

SCHOOL ACCREDITATION

GRACE LIU

PROCESS

“Absolutely terrified.”

That’s how junior Sanjeeta Pannu felt at 7:30 a.m. on an average Wednesday morning. Why? As most students lay sleeping or gearing up to endure the dreaded Moraga Way traffic, Pannu and five of her classmates sat in a room full of teachers discussing the future of Miramonte High School. This experience is not for the faint of heart. Some might even consider themselves lucky to avoid being in Pannu’s shoes.

Every six years, Miramonte and other schools in the Acalanes Union High School District conduct a self-evaluation through the Western Association of Schools and Colleges (WASC). The process is meant to document the school’s accomplishments and current challenges, as well as to develop a plan for future improvements. An initial one- or two-day visit from a WASC representative kickstarts the accreditation process to give WASC a better understanding of the school’s purpose, programs, and operations. Miramonte conducts a self-study to address its schoolwide action plan and demonstrate student achievements and overall school improvements. This voluntary, non-governmental process helps schools develop and sustain effective programs that value self-improvement and push them to meet high standards of education. The last full WASC report at Miramonte happened in 2017.

“The first WASC meeting was definitely a little intimidating, but I feel like it’s something that I will get more comfortable with as meetings progress,” Pannu said. “I was excited for sure, though, because I felt like participating in the WASC meetings was a really cool thing and kind of a rare opportunity.”

“At Miramonte we have used the WASC accreditation process since 1961,” librarian Susan Williams said. “It essentially consists of two main components: the selfstudy written report—ours is due January 2023—and the accreditation team visit. We will have a team of outside educators visit us for three days from Feb. 27 to Mar. 1, 2023, for the purpose of verifying what we’ve written in our report. Documentation of our process of self-reflection and evaluation, as well as the verification of all-community involvement, is a major part of our responsibilities. Done well, this gives us a chance to celebrate our successes and accomplishments and create a roadmap for how we want to continue and improve.”

WASC, as stated on their website, is a “world-renowned accrediting association” that works with the Office of Overseas Schools under the U.S. Department of State. WASC collaborates with schools worldwide, espe

From left to right: Juniors Marina Kim, Megan Chui, Ricky Davis, Sanjeeta Pannu, Grace Liu, and Reagan Kaelle participate in WASC.

In her office, librarian Susan Williams has WASC reports stretching all the way back to the 1970s. These files document the history of Miramonte and the changes made to the school over the years.

During a Wednesday meeting, teachers on the Organization/Vision team discuss new vocabulary words to incorporate into edited versions of the school mission and vision

statements.

cially in California, Hawaii, Guam, Asia, the Pacific Region, the Middle East, Africa, and Europe. WASC’s purpose is to “foster excellence” in all levels of education, including elementary, secondary, postsecondary, and supplementary education programs.

Miramonte’s accreditation process is divided between six teams: Organization/Vision, headed by Latin teacher Matt Davis; Curriculum, led by Geology and Advanced Placement (AP) Environmental Science teacher Jyllian Smith; Learning and Teaching, headed by Spanish teacher Eva Green; Assessment and Accountability, headed by math teacher Valerie Peterson; and School Culture and Support, headed by English teacher Steve Poling.

Meetings for each team are held once a month before school in February, March, April, and May. Each focus group has a teacher leader and also parent and student members. At the end of this WASC cycle, the concluding report will look at the five areas listed above and evaluate Miramonte’s progress since the 2017 report. “In the final report we will include the findings of each team and provide the evidence and documentation to support those findings,” Williams said.

Teachers selected students to participate in the process. After accepting the offer, students requested to join the team that most interested them. “I was on the team that was in charge of changing our school mission statement (Organization/Vision), and in our first meeting we started to propose changes for the mission statement,” junior Ricky Davis said. “Moving forward, our team’s goal is to change the mission statement to make sure that it accurately depicts our school.”

Each of the five teams will discuss the unique prompts for the focus area provided by WASC. In monthly meetings, teams will find supporting evidence, which can range from lesson plans to survey results, and use said evidence in discussions to write out the findings in a report. When the visiting WASC team comes next year, they’ll “read the report, look at the provided evidence, spend time on campus meeting with staff, administration, students, and parents, and visit classrooms to see if what we put in the report is accurate and visible on campus,” Williams said.

Overall, the WASC process is a school’s self-reflection meant to showcase accomplishments and develop plans for future improvements. This process does not compare schools to one another and is separate for each school, even those in the same district.

“I think Miramonte’s accreditation process is important because it ensures Miramonte is progressing and evolving to continue to give students an excellent well-rounded education,” Pannu said.

Ask the students: How do you feel after a FULL YEar of IN-PERSON school?

For many, this year will be remembered as our first full year back in person. Unlike past years, students this year had to reacclimate to a normal school environment on top of the many assignments and tests. With summer approaching, students are preparing for finals and Advanced Placement exams. However, many students admit feeling a loss lack of motivation during the second semester, prompting The Mirador to pose the question: “Now that we’ve survived almost one year of full in-person school, are you still feeling motivated or is your energy dropping?”

PAIGE MAYS & REESE SMITH

“After a full year of in-person school I feel like my energy is dropping a bit. I love coming to school, but some days I wish I could Zoom from my bed, rather than having to get up and get ready for school.” - Grace Clark ‘22

“My energy for the school year is dropping, but I am trying to stay motivated by summer approaching and the long weekend we were recently rewarded with.”

- Hadley Peterson ‘24

“Being that we are one year into in-person school, my energy has dropped, which makes me feel unmotivated sometimes. I enjoyed having online school a couple of days throughout the week because I could go at my own pace with my schedule, whereas in-person school is very crammed. I have around five tests/ quizzes in a week, which makes me very stressed and makes me feel unmotivated to study a bunch of material. With AP exams around the corner, I am feeling extra overwhelmed, and my energy is dropping as I have to study at a fast pace.” - Amanda Murray ‘23

“I do my best to stay motivated, but sometimes I find it easy to procrastinate. Also, second semester is seeming a bit trickier just because we’ve already been in school for a semester and teachers are changing their teaching styles.” - Zoe Schmitt ‘25

“My energy is dropping and my motivation to go to school is lacking. I found that ever since we adapted to being mostly online last year due to COVID-19, all the schoolwork we are given can be done and self-taught at home, which isn’t helping.” - Elle Efremsky ‘22

“I feel that my energy is definitely dropping. Seeing as I am into college already, that could be affecting my motivation, although it was nice to have some days online last year. Waking up two minutes before class in the comfort of my own home was optimal. However, I do enjoy seeing all my teachers and classmates in person.” - Shannon Murphy ‘22

“I think the break from responsibility that online school provided has just started to wear off and in a couple of my classes, I’ve begun to lose motivation. I’m feeling determined to complete the year and do well on AP tests, but I’m not sure how optimistic I feel for next year.” - Justin Cole ‘23

Admin Tightens Up Student Section

JOHN WILLIAMS & CHARLIE ENGS

As the student section roars, a player on the opposing team glances nervously at the basket, waiting to take his first free throw. He misses and the crowd goes wild yelling,“Go home! Get out of here! You’re a bum!” The distraught player solemnly walks back to the huddle.

Trash talk, a powerful yet openly disrespectful tool, is used to disrupt opposing players. However, due to recent supervision by the Miramonte administration, this component of game-watching is now restricted.

At this year’s basketball games, nasty chants aimed at opposing players from the Miramonte student section have flooded the crowd until the whole section starts chanting. “The challenging thing is identifying single outcries or poor behaviors in a large crowd. However, whenever we can definitively see or hear anything that can be clearly identified to a person or group, we remove them,” associate principal Bruce Giron said.

Many students are still able to successfully throw players off their game by making comments that are respectful and aren’t considered offensive. “Part of the game is to try and distract the other players. Having that taken away makes the game less exciting,” junior Ryan Meyers said. The administration is clear that making games less exciting is not the goal and they strongly encourage students to be involved in the action. However, the line between cheering openly and being disrespectful seems to be narrowing.

Although the ability to cheer for the Mats and participate in cheering isn’t being taken away, the administration is drawing a line between the two types of trash-talking for the student section. Group chants toward the opposing team and their student section are allowed. Small amounts of heckling are also acceptable unless it’s disrespectful and personal, though any inappropriate words or gestures won’t be tolerated. “Profanity, derogatory comments, or other intimidating actions, especially concerning race, gender, or ethnicity, directed at athletes, officials, team representatives or other spectators, are grounds for immediate removal from the competitions,” Giron said.

The restrictions have manifested in a variety of ways, but predominantly in indoor sports, where chants and insults echo around the gym. During volleyball games, for example, spectators were not allowed to cheer during serves. During this basketball season, multiple Miramonte students were ejected from games as a result of their cheers.

As students continue to get removed from games, opposing fans and even Miramonte staff are taking note of the sportsmanship. “The part that disappoints me about this policy is the fact that it must exist. I find it embarrassing and shameful when those who represent our community and the school do so in a poor fashion,” Giron said.

New guidelines began this year and students face consequences for disobeying. In the past, a student would be given a warning for unacceptable behavior. Now, the rules are clear—with no second chances.