Skip to main content

Breaking of Invisible Minorities

In Students for Fair Admissions, Inc. v. President and Fellows of Harvard College, research by Duke University economist Professor Peter Arcidiacono examined the role of race in Harvard’s admissions decisions. Using econometric and statistical analysis, he concluded that race played a significant role in who was admitted.

Santa Barbara, California

According to Professor Arcidiacono, if an Asian applicant with certain characteristics—scores, GPAs, and extracurricular activities—had a 25 percent statistical likelihood of admission, the same applicant, if white, would have a 36 percent likelihood of admission. Latino applicants with the same factors would have a predicted 77 percent chance of admission, while Black applicants with the same factors would have a 95 percent likelihood of admission under Harvard’s admissions practices during the era of Affirmative Action.

He also projected that Asian admissions to Harvard would increase by more than 46 percent over six years if the university were to remove racial and ethnic admission preferences for Black and Latino applicants while also removing penalties applied to Asian applicants.

Harvard has a history of denying admission to qualified applicants when a minority group becomes a strong presence on campus. The Brief Amicus Curiae submitted by the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law and the Silicon Valley Chinese Association Foundation in support of the petitioner, Students for Fair Admissions, pointed to parallels between the treatment of Asian applicants and Harvard’s Jewish quota of the 1920s and 1930s. During that period, Harvard artificially suppressed the number of Jewish students by denying admission to qualified applicants after then–President Abbott Lawrence Lowell raised concerns about the rising number of Jewish freshmen year over year.

And here we are. The Supreme Court has ended Affirmative Action.


As I shared on Instagram Stories, I felt conflicted when the news broke. As a Korean American, I felt vindicated that we cannot be discriminated against, fearful of an ambiguous future, and frustrated because both ends of the political spectrum seem, at times, equally lost.

Former President Obama was right when he said Affirmative Action was never perfect. Jay Caspian Kang of The New Yorker perhaps summarized it best: “The original concept in pursuit of diversity was vital and righteous. The way it was practiced was hard to defend.”

The decision was not a moment of celebration for me. Yet it did something important. It made Asians visible after decades of being rendered invisible by both courts and many of the advocates defending Affirmative Action.

It was not a celebration because the end of Affirmative Action also introduces an ambiguous future for Black, Latino, and Asian students alike. Universities have already suggested that admissions criteria may become more subjective rather than more objective. That shift risks allowing institutions to continue favoring legacy status and financial privilege while claiming the language of diversity.


Affirmative Action has been an irritating subject for me for years. I have read articles, statistics, and editorial arguments in an effort to understand the other side and temper my own frustration. Yet I struggle to see how sacrificing one minority group in the name of helping others can be justified.

Why does a culture that speaks so passionately about equality and inclusion so often leave Asians outside that conversation?

Is a system of diversity that penalizes one group of minorities for the sake of others truly inclusive?

We do not live in a perfect world. Beyond overt discrimination and racism, unconscious bias continues to shape institutions. That reality makes it even more important to minimize subjective measures in favor of clearer and fairer standards.

Real progress would mean investing in opportunities, tools, and resources for all children long before they reach the admissions gates of elite universities—not telling them that their chances are already predetermined.


I am reminded of Professor Anne C. Bailey, Director of the Harriet Tubman Center for Freedom and Equality at Binghamton University, who defended Harvard in an opinion published by Newsweek. Reflecting on her time at the university, she described a campus where students came from every imaginable background:

“You never knew who you were going to meet: the kid from Montana who was brilliant at carpentry but had also read every Shakespearean play; the engineer in the making who was already inventing things; the organic farmer committed to sustainable agriculture long before it was fashionable; the virtuoso violinist from inner-city Chicago; the Christian missionary who had lived and worked in China; the future lawyer already arguing cases in the cafeteria.”

It is a beautiful description of intellectual diversity. Yet Asians are often absent from the way that diversity is imagined.

According to the 2021 U.S. Census, millions trace their heritage to Asia—5.2 million Chinese, 2.3 million Vietnamese, 2 million Korean, and 1.6 million Japanese, among many others. Within these communities are individuals whose talents extend far beyond test scores and GPAs—students who build, invent, perform, farm, argue, and imagine in ways no admissions formula can measure.

Just because some of us happen to be Asians with high scores and strong academic records does not mean we cannot also be the student from Montana with remarkable carpentry skills who has read every Shakespeare play; the engineer already inventing things; the organic farmer determined to make agriculture sustainable; the virtuoso violinist from inner-city Chicago; the missionary who has lived and worked abroad; or the future lawyer arguing cases in the cafeteria.

Asians should neither be denied entry to nor rendered invisible within that treasure trove.

_____
More essays:

ESSAYS | RECIPES | STYLES | IG

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Oh Snap! BTS Just Made the Grammys Irrelevant

I am not ARMY. The first BTS member to intrigue me was J-Hope, who appeared last year on one of my favorite Korean shows, Chef & My Fridge, with his refrigerator in tow. There, I learned that he had performed at Le Gala des Pièces Jaunes at Paris La Défense Arena at the personal invitation of Brigitte Macron, France’s first lady. Naturally, I found the performance on YouTube. Thirty-five thousand people filled the arena as thousands of voices in France roared the Korean lyric, “adeuri neom jal nagaseo mianhae, eomma.” One need not own a purple light stick to recognize that kind of cultural power. Afterward, I became mildly obsessed with J-Hope and, by association, BTS. Original photo by Sudhith Xavier. Photoshop by ChatGPT. A song currently in heavy rotation on my playlist is SWIM, from their latest album, ARIRANG. The album debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 and remained there for three consecutive weeks. During its debut week, its songs occupied the top nine positions on the...

Pasta al Tonno: A Korean Gal’s Ramyeon in Pasta

Growing up Korean, ramyeon was the reliable quick meal: intensely satisfying, reliably filling, and unlikely to leave much of a dent in the bank account. It was a cheap thrill, the sort of thing we were regularly warned was not particularly healthy while continuing to keep it stocked in nearly every Korean home. That contradiction was built into its history. Korean ramyeon was introduced in 1963, with government financing, as one possible response to South Korea’s severe postwar food shortage. Ceramic bowl was wheel-thrown and glazed by me. Once regarded largely as budget food, ramyeon now commands a global following that could almost compete with BTS. ARMY, please hold the hate mail. Pasta al tonno may not share ramyeon’s austere, mission-driven origin, but it occupies a similarly dependable place in many Italian kitchens, particularly among younger cooks and college students. It is quick, inexpensive, and deeply satisfying without putting an unnecessary dent in the wallet. Humble ...

Curated: Ballet Flats for Fashionistas

The ballet flat began, quite literally, with a foot in the theater. Claire McCardell and Capezio helped coax the slipper from studio floor to city pavement in the 1940s, while Audrey Hepburn and Brigitte Bardot later supplied the sort of cinematic endorsement no advertising budget could manufacture. What had been designed for pliés became a shorthand for modern femininity: graceful without fragility, polished without the architectural inconvenience of a heel. at Musée d'Orsay, Paris, France Its staying power lies in that contradiction. The ballet flat is delicate but practical, prim but faintly rebellious—the shoe of a woman who has somewhere to be and no intention of arriving with sore feet. And so, with a small curtsy and considerably better arch support, here are 12 curated ballet flats ready to take their turn in the spotlight. ANCIENT GREEK SANDALS Iro PVC Ballet Flats JavaScript is currently disabled in this browser. Reactivate it to view this content. ANCIENT GREEK SANDALS I...

Curated Sunglasses: Shades Without the Mourning

Sunglasses began as utility: a practical defense against glare, wind, and the indignities of squinting. Then fashion claimed them. Frames grew bolder, lenses darker, silhouettes more deliberate, until sunglasses became less an accessory than a small act of self-invention—the quickest way to suggest mystery, polish, or studied indifference. I lose sunglasses the way other people lose packs of gum: casually, repeatedly, and without explanation. After enough expensive disappearances and appropriate mourning periods, I now wear budget-friendly pairs almost exclusively. These 12 curated sunglasses offer the pleasure of a fashion statement without requiring a period of mourning when one inevitably vanishes. The trouble with a small indulgence is that shipping can cost nearly as much as the thing itself—unless, of course, one reaches the minimum. To spare us that particular absurdity, all 12 were curated from Amazon Prime. JOOPIN Oversized Sunglasses ZENOTTIC Retro Square Polarized Sunglasses...

Korean Gal's Guatemalan Red Beans with Pork Spare Ribs

Full transparency. I am afraid of pressure cookers. It is a fear instilled in me by my mom, a quiet but effective deterrent meant to keep me at a safe distance—especially when the pressure is being released. Reasonable? Perhaps. I would consider a therapist, but it has been years since I have needed one. Ceramic bowl was wheel-thrown and glazed by me. When I saw the Pressure Cooker Guatemalan Red Beans with Beef Short Ribs recipe in The World Central Kitchen Cookbook: Feeding Humanity, Feeding Hope , I knew I had to make a version of my own—one that did not require a pressure cooker. I also wanted the ingredients to feel simpler, more accessible. More importantly, I wanted the dish to center the red beans, rather than have them overshadowed by the richness of beef short ribs. This is not a bean stew, but a slow braise—one that relies on the gradual release of moisture from the ingredients themselves. So, changes were made—and thus, the name: Korean Gal’s Guatemalan Red Beans with P...

Curated Clutches: Tiny Bags, Big History

Before the clutch became the red-carpet punctuation mark of a gown, it had a more domestic ancestor: the reticule, a small handheld drawstring bag that emerged when women’s hidden tie-on pockets began losing their usefulness beneath slimmer, sheerer late-eighteenth- and early-nineteenth-century dresses. What had once been tucked under petticoats was suddenly carried in public, and privacy became ornament: silk, velvet, beadwork, embroidery, a little theater of necessity held in the hand. The bag was never only a container; it was a social adjustment, a concession to fashion’s old habit of taking away utility and selling it back as elegance. Yoko Ono: Music of Mind at The Broad The modern clutch came into its own in the 1920s and 1930s, when evening moved faster, dresses grew sleeker, and women needed only the glamorous minimum: powder, mirror, lipstick, perhaps money, perhaps not. Tiny dance purses, Art Deco shapes, celluloid and Bakelite, metalwork and beading turned the bag into an o...

Do Angelenos Really Believe Their Own Politics?

Los Angeles has proudly shouted ICE Out. The slogan is morally uncomplicated. Immigration is not. At the Dodger's Stadium, April 2025 I cannot join the chant—not because I excuse the Trump Administration’s conduct, but because I believe in the rule of law. It must bind everyone: those living in this country without legal status, the officers charged with enforcing immigration law, and the federal government that gives those officers their authority. Removal can be a lawful consequence of lacking legal status when it is ordered and carried out through lawful process. During the Obama Administration, more than three million people were formally removed from the United States. More than two million others were returned, generally without formal removal orders. Large-scale immigration enforcement is not new to this country, nor is it unique to Donald Trump. What is different—and indefensible—is a federal government violating the rule of law in the name of enforcing it. I beli...

Strawberry Cloud: A Boost of Healthy Goodness

Strawberries are generous little things. They arrive bright, fragrant, and almost too pretty to be practical, then quietly offer vitamin C, fiber, and the kind of berry-rich plant compounds that make a glass of pink milk feel more thoughtful than indulgent. Whole milk gives the drink its body: protein, calcium, and that soft, creamy structure skim milk could only dream of having. Peppermint leaves bring a cool lift and a gentle nod toward digestion, while Manuka honey adds floral sweetness with antibacterial activity, and antioxidant and anti-inflammatory compounds. This is not a medicinal drink, and thank goodness. It can be a wellness drink without becoming annoying about it. Watch out, Erewhon. I use the Breville 3X Bluicer® Pro Blender & Juicer , which blends it into something smooth and faintly frothy, but any blender will do. INGREDIENTS [serves 1] 1 cup whole milk 9 ounces strawberries, hulled 10 peppermint leaves 1 tablespoon Manuka honey Add everything to the blender a...

Pad Mee, My Way

In Thai and Lao kitchens, Pad Mee points broadly to stir-fried noodles: rice noodles loosened in a hot pan, glossed with sauce, sharpened by aromatics, and adjusted according to region, household, occasion, and whoever is standing closest to the wok. Ceramic bowl was wheel-thrown and glazed by me. Its history does not arrive with one neat origin story, which is part of its charm. Like many Southeast Asian noodle dishes, Pad Mee sits at the intersection of local rice culture, Chinese-influenced noodle cookery, and the everyday reality of feeding people quickly and well. Before a dish becomes famous enough to acquire fandom, it is usually just a meal. That is where Pad Mee is most interesting. It exists in variations: some sweeter, some darker, some spicier, some closer to Lao-style caramelized noodles served at gatherings, others tied to Thai regional cooking. Pad Mee Korat, from Nakhon Ratchasima, is one well-known branch of the family, but it is not the whole tree. Pad Mee’s real gl...

French Green Bean Casserole

No entrée stands alone. Even the most confident main course benefits from a supporting act that knows how to hold its own without clamoring for attention. The green bean casserole, in its most American form, is often nostalgic, sometimes heavy, rarely subtle. This version leans elsewhere. French green beans retain their snap. Gruyère and crème fraîche lend quiet luxury. Pancetta and shiitake deepen the room. It is familiar, yes — but composed, deliberate, and just decadent enough to feel dressed for the occasion. Served with turkey roast INGREDIENTS [serves 4 as a side dish] eight ounces of French green beans, trimmed one shallot, diced two celery stalks, sliced three ounces of shiitake mushrooms, sliced a quarter pound of Gruyère, grated two ounces of pancetta, small cubes two tablespoons of butter, melted one cup of panko a quarter cup of heavy whipping cream six ounces of crème fraîche Preheat the oven to 375°F. Bring a pot of water, enough to cover the beans, to a boil. Boil the ...