@sofiajasmine
I was 10 years-old when my family moved from Queens, New York, to Long Island.
Its a fresh start, my mom chirped optimistically as I surveyed the foreign suburban sprawl.
Id never taken a school bus before.
@sofiajasmine
In Queens, we walked.
On the morning of my first day at my new school, I boarded the big yellow school bus.
Immediately, I was confronted with navigating the complex politics of a preteen social strata.
As the bus continued its route, my schoolmates interest in me, this newcomer, was piqued.
they murmured amongst themselves.
There was some jeering, commotion, and balled up looseleaf paper thrown around between seats.
They called me… a female Vik-vik.
Vik-vik?, she repeated, confused.
A wave of recognition washed over her face as she spoke the phrase.
Hes another boy in school.
Vivek was one of only two other Indian students at my new school.
No matter who I was inside, I was being reduced to a function of my appearance.
My little heart hoped that this might help people seemean individual, something more than just an other.
When Y2K hit, I was 13.
Compared with Queens, a melting pot of immigrants and opportunity, Long Island was something else altogether.
If I were to accidentally forget about this new reality, it would often be thrust in my face.
Puberty did me no favors.
Banned were the cropped tops and spaghetti straps, my mother deeming them too revealing for her young daughter.
No to bikinis, too.
),searching for a pop culture reference to validate my identity and guide my expression of beauty.
There was J Lo, with her relatable Bronx roots and honey-colored glow.
Empowered with these non-white pictures, I went to the salon to get my hair frosted.
(Years later, I was fortunate enough to make my firstdesifriend at NYU.
I thank her to this day for this moment of brown girl grace.)
Oh, the struggle of Southeast Asian women and our body hair.
J Los plunging necklines and booty shorts revealed a toned body, and tan skin that was absolutely hairless.
I had the tan complexion down, but lacked her smooth, hair-free skin.
I told myself as long as I did this, no one could make fun of me.
At least, not for being a female Vivek.
emulating the non-white women deemed as desirable, I hoped to propel myself into the same category.
In December 2018, I had my mind blown once again, when AmericanVoguefeatured Priyanka on its cover.
When I think back to this, in my mid-30s, I feel a sense of homecoming.
This is why representation matters.
helped normalize my name through a plot point.
This is why representation matters.
