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September 5-11, 1997
Shingly Lee
University of California
at Los Angeles, Los Angeles
Shingly Lee could have gone to college in the Fresno area where she grew up. After all, her four older brothers all attended the California State University at Fresno. But Lee chose UCLA after graduating from high school three years ago. She wanted to get away from Central California because she hated farming.
"I still don't like it," she said. "I hated getting up at 5:30 in the morning. I couldn't hang out after school because I had to go home. But whenever I'm home now, I want to help my parents because I know they've been sacrificing for me."
A political-science major with a specialization in Asian American studies, Shingly has begun to appreciate the importance of agriculture to her family. They emigrated from war-torn Laos 18 years ago and settled in Iowa, then Santa Ana, and finally Fresno, where there was much more of an established Hmong community. To support the family, Lee's parents leased an acre of land and grew vegetables. Farming had always been a family affair; everyone, no matter how young or old, helped out in the field.
In retrospect, Lee realizes that all those horrible, back-breaking days actually helped her family stay close and helped her to stay out of trouble.
"I really experienced the opposite of the model-minority stereotype," she said. Lee went to a high school where there were many working-class, Southeast Asian refugees or recent immigrants. People thought that Lee, already a student leader with a good GPA, exemplified academic excellence. But she said that she was more the exception than the rule.
"My white teachers were surprised that my friends and I were not pregnant or married [by the time we graduated]. The model-minority myth didn't really apply in Fresno.
It wasn't until her older sister went to UC Davis that Shingly began imagining herself somewhere other than Fresno. With a SAT score of less than 1200, she was surprised that she was admitted to UCLA. "I always thought I was a product of affirmative action," she said proudly.
Of course, there were barriers once she came to UCLA. As the sixth of nine children from a working-class family who went to college, Lee had to support her education herself much of the time. At one point, she held two jobs and worked about 30 hours a week. Having to work while taking a full load of classes was miserable, but that wasn't the worst.
"The hardest part of being in L.A,. though," she said, "is that no one knows what Hmong is." The formation of the Hmong Students Association on campus last year has helped her feel a little less invisible. Before then, she battled her isolation by becoming active in other groups. When she was a freshman, she got involved in the Asian Pacific Coalition (APC), a panethnic alliance of about 20 mostly ethnic-specific student organizations at UCLA. Now as its first Hmong director, she wants to help strengthen underrepresented Asian Pacific Islander student groups within APC.
"Smaller student groups are different than the more established, larger groups. They don't do big productions like cultural nights or dances," she explained. "They focus more on recruitment, which is more of a problem for underrepresented API communities. They need resources to go out to the community and talk to young people. I think APC can help them find resources on campus."
She said that curricular reform is also a priority for today's API college students. "It's good that we do have ethnic-studies centers and classes, but these perspectives are not represented in general education classes or mainstream classes," Lee said. "In most of the political-science classes I took, their views on Third World countries were very patronizing. All of the professors I've had in my major were white males, except two, who were white females. Only a few classes dealt with diversity."
Her academic experiences have not been without some bright spots, however. She thinks the Asian American studies classes are much more intimate. "The TAs [teaching assistants] are more attentive to student needs," she said. "There is more of an opportunity to change students' lives. I always thought a lot of students could be motivated to become involved through these classes." Furthermore, she is encouraged by a recent student campaign to push for an ethnic and gender studies requirement as part of UCLA's general education.
Even though the curriculum is not perfect, Shingly acknowledged that UCLA has provided her with many opportunities. "Had I not gotten out of Fresno, I don't think I would've gone beyond the Hmong community and interact with other people."
Besides being able to sharpen her leadership skills through APC, college has also opened up her mind to the diversity of people living in California. For example, APC has a long history of working with other student-of-color organizations. It has been an integral member of a multiracial, progressive coalition that has won control of the student government for the last three years.
One may think that Shingly is one of the lucky few who made it out of Fresno. Ironically, now that she is a student leader on one of the largest campuses in the country, her thoughts keep going back to her community.
"Before UCLA, I thought that I could just concentrate on making as much money as I can, that I could help my community by distributing my wealth," she said. "Now I know that's not how you empower your community."
She is taking the LSAT next year and wants to continue advocating for her community. Her parents agree that she would make a good lawyer; they think she talks too much to stay in the field.
--Eric Wat
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