Earlier this year, I read Samantha Kang’s “Open Letter to Asian Women at Dartmouth,” in the Spare Rib magazine. Founded in 1992 to inspire dialogue about the progression of women’s issues at Dartmouth, The Spare Rib is an intersectionalist feminist zine that serves as a publishing platform, intellectual forum and community space for marginalized perspectives. In the piece, Kang described aspects of the campus culture that objectified and othered Asian students, especially women. She also recounted an experience in a public speaking class where a professor made comments with “demeaning, racial undertones.”
I was disheartened to hear about such comments from a Dartmouth professor, especially during a time when the issue of belonging for Asian Americans and many others is so contested — both on campus and in the country as a whole. I hope that, when selecting faculty, administrators will reconsider which values the College chooses to instill in the younger generation and how ethics and minority issues are discussed in the classroom. It is my belief that the educator has a paramount responsibility to foster a learning environment that does not erase the voices of those who speak from the margins.
That said, I strongly believe in creating teachable moments, so I will address each comment made. I believe that we can all learn from these comments and as a result come out with a more rational and compassionate view.
Number one: “What do the white men in the room think?”
Victimization isn’t about the comfort of the privileged — it’s about the lives of the harmed. In asking what the white men think, the professor may have been anticipating some kind of “balance in perspective.” That said, one white alumnus I spoke with described the professor’s comments as “uninspired,” “myopic” and “violent.” This may sound like a strong charge to some, but I believe it is worth examining why such comments can passively enable dynamics of violence.
The concept of Asian women’s sexual trauma as filtered through the white male gaze was recently explored in Asian media discourse — specifically in criticism of the 2024 mini-series “The Sympathizer.” In episode four, a white film director (Robert Downey Jr.) making a film about the Vietnam War writes a rape scene of a Vietnamese girl in “honor” of the protagonist’s mother. The scene itself is voyeuristic and purely gratuitous in its violence. Responding to the film, many Asian viewers have suggested that violence directed at Asian bodies is not always processed with the same sense of empathy by non-Asian viewers. I find it interesting that this professor deferred to the white male voices in the room while questioning the factual validity of harm done to Asian people, asking “Where did you get these sources from?”.
This prioritization of white male comfort over the dignity of others has also played out in the courtroom. In the 2016 Brock Turner case, a white Stanford student was sentenced to just six months for the rape of an unconscious Asian American woman — reduced to three for “good behavior.” The judge, also a Stanford alumnus, expressed concern for the potentially “severe impact” on Turner’s future, while the survivor had to fight for a year to be believed despite eyewitness testimonies and overwhelming evidence. This dynamic, though more subtle, reemerges in settings like the classroom, when professors defer to dominant voices while questioning the pain of the marginalized.
Two: “Isn’t only 2% of the Dartmouth student population Asian?”
By that logic, white expats only make up less than 1% of Thailand’s population. Should their lives, rights and dignity be ignored if harmed abroad?
To drive this point even further: Gabby Petito, a murdered, white vlogger who was the subject of a Netflix documentary, was not 2%. She was one woman. And her life still mattered. I am sure that parents across America saw that story and felt their hearts sink as they thought of how vulnerable their own children could be in the wrong hands. Her story mattered — not because she was a part of a statistic — but because she was a human being.
Further, when we consider that Asian Americans have equal constitutional rights in this country, it becomes evident that this comment is not only unethical and dehumanizing, but also un-American in principle.
According to 2023 American Community Survey data, about 80% of Asian Americans are U.S. citizens. So why should violence directed at our community be deemed irrelevant? To frame the issue differently, does it make sense to ignore or de-prioritize 911 emergency calls from residents of Asian descent simply because they belong to a smaller racial demographic?
Lastly, small does not mean insignificant or powerless. There are districts in America where the number of eligible Asian voters could sway the results of highly contested races, even in states where Asians make up a small proportion of the population. And indeed, both political parties have courted the Asian American vote in recognition of this fact. So, how does it make sense to solicit our political support while writing off our issues?
While the validity of our humanity is not contingent on the acceptance of the majority, it doesn’t mean advocacy is pointless or unnecessary. Colleges often tout diversity as a selling point that offers intellectual enrichment — like some kind of multicultural potluck — even when that enrichment often comes at the expense of said “diverse” students defending their own humanity in classrooms like these. But if we can learn from one another in a compassionate rather than an exploitative way, I believe we all have so much to gain.
Today, in this climate that devalues diversity and inclusion and treats equality as some tribalistic zero-sum game, I hope this reflection has made clearer how centering different perspectives doesn’t just make us more critical thinkers. It also teaches us how to be better friends, neighbors and leaders. I believe it is the diversity of America, and our relative willingness to name and celebrate differences rather than demand total assimilation, that gives Americans a unique global edge in perspective and cultural fluency. But that is only if we can recognize that we are standing before a gold mine of countless traditions, imaginations and truths, not a garden overrun by weeds.
In short, we don’t exist to bleed for Western awareness, and we don’t exist to fulfill Western fantasies. We exist to live and to laugh — regardless of white permission, approval or comprehension. So to my Asian readers, whether you identify with the 13% of the Asian student body at Dartmouth, the 7% of the Asian population in America or the 60% of the Asian population in the world, let’s live life on our terms.
Yuri Lee is a member of the Dartmouth Class of 2017. Guest columns represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
