Gender Identity Essay

I grew up in an orthodox Asian household with traditional values; my family loved me very much, but they do not understand the younger generation’s growing momentum and support for a culture of sexual freedom and orientation. Over the years I have mastered the art of flying under the radar; to most unassuming eyes, during the day I present myself as a modest, well-dressed woman—I do this in an effort to respect the time-honored customs of my ancestry and to please my parents. By night, I experiment with different kinds of clothes, hair gel, and silly mirror expressions, done in an attempt to bend gender constructs. There is a little voice inside of me saying: I define who I am, not what society tells me how to be. However, as sunlight rises, I have to put her away and close my closet. Nobody can know about this part of me.

As I grow older, finding love has become a growing priority. My bisexuality, simultaneously, has also grown in parallel to a source of increasing confusion and quandary. As the only daughter in the Shi household, I am responsible for bearing children and passing down the family name in our bloodline. Therefore, I simply cannot be non-straight. Being bisexual is then seen as an option, as a privilege. And definitely, not one that I am being extended to. Although I appear like the good daughter that my parents so desperately want me to be— underneath, there is a strong-willed spirit yearning to be recognized for her true self.

When dancing around this unspoken ‘possibility’ at the dinner table, my parents were firm and clear in the fact that they would not accept a gay daughter. What’s most interesting is that in this open discussion, my dad has been frank about questioning his own bisexuality back when he was my age. However, he warns me that I will suffer a fate of hardship if I do not take after him and repress my non-binary, gender-fluid dispositions—as gender non-conforming individuals are often discriminated against in the workplace. My dad has gone on to build a fantastic self-made career and marry the woman of his dreams; he insists that none of this would have been possible if he had been open about his bisexuality, with both himself and others. Freedom of one’s sexuality is, in the eyes of my parents and extended family, a choice that I am being given grace around—to which there is only one right ‘answer.’ My dad’s bisexuality is something he claims to hate about himself, and is now a part of his identity that he vehemently denies. Hence, there is a silent, quiet shame that has been generationally passed down to me, restricting me from exploring certain parts of myself and my sexuality.

From tabletop conversations with my parents to confrontational experiences that I navigated in the real world, my bisexual identity has equipped me with a keen awareness of how binary, gendered norms operate in institutions and businesses. Specifically, I observed how masculine-presenting attributes in the workplace are biasedly favored over feminine ones—rendering women who possess such characteristics to be seen as weak or incapable. This holds a multitude of implications such as precluding or denying women, gender non-conforming individuals, or other LGBTQ+ people from well-deserving opportunities. Worse, it can reinforce invisible hierarchical structures of what society’s view of competent leaders look like: dominant, aggressive, and domineering. Holding such schemas means that ‘good’ leaders have to fight for control in order to assert their authority—creating a culture of competition—rather than the foundations of collaboration that I personally think the world should be built upon.

As a non-binary, bisexual Asian-Samoan woman, I aim to change this narrative through leading by example. Specifically, I strive to aim to be an empathetic leader; one who understands the perspective of oppressed minorities. One who listens to the opinions of others. One who will allow others to be as they are, rather than imposing my own expectations of how they ought to act, dress, or behave like traditional stereotypes of ultra-personified roles of masculinity and femininity. I will make a conscious effort to uplift those around me and hold space for them. I’d like to envision a place where such gendered expectations are not so strictly enforced, and binary norms do not dictate one's work performance or the way people behave. I want to be a part of creating a world where people no longer have to hide, no longer have to be scared of being true to themselves. I’d like to imagine a space where people are accepted for flaunting their individualism; it makes for a much more colorful society. My own LGBTQ+, POC identity provide me with a astute understanding and grasp of how gendered structures infiltrate the workplace. This cognizance and empathy will allow me to add value to both business organizations and classrooms at the SVMP program—where I hope that others will share my vision for a more kind, inclusive world.