Why the API story needs to be heard

Preventing the erasure of Asian and Pacific Islander stories. Encouraging our diverse and authentic voices to be heard. Acknowledging our communities contributions to this country. Ensuring that our histories are not forgotten so it’s not repeated. This is why Asian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month (APIHM) which starts next week was launched and is still important.

Over the last decade and more, it’s been nice to see more Asian and Pacific Islander stories and creators in mainstream film, TV, books, and music. However, for the record, our stories have always been there. They just weren’t seen, heard or read by the everyday American who used to or still relies only on network TV, the large publishing houses or the major movie studios. 

Fortunately, we all have more options now. Anyone, anywhere, anytime can share their unique story. And that’s what makes APIHM so important, because as we speak, shout, scream, and whisper our stories, we know someone, somewhere, sometimes is likely listening, watching, reading and feeling our stories. 

Despite progress though, we’re still, much too often, reminded of the attempts to erase or gloss over the uncomfortable parts of our stories. A recent example involves children's book author,  Maggie Tokuda-Hall as she courageously decided to speak out publicly about the conditions required of her by the largest publisher/distributor of children’s books.. 

“They wanted to take this book and repackage it so that it was just a simple love story. Nothing more. Not anything that might offend those book banners in what they called this “politically sensitive” moment. The irony of curating a collection tentatively titled Rising Voices: Amplifying AANHPI Narratives with one hand while demanding that I strangle my own voice with the other was, to me, the perfect encapsulation of what publishing, our dubious white ally, does so often to marginalized creators. They want the credibility of our identities, want to market our biographies. They want to sell our suffering, smoothed down and made palatable to the white readers they prioritize. To assuage white guilt with stories that promise to make them better people, while never threatening them, not even with discomfort. They have no investment in our voices. Always, our voices are  the first sacrifice at the altar of marketability.”

I am pretty certain there are many Asian Americans, Native Hawaiians, Pacific Islanders, and other marginalized folks, who like myself, can relate to and empathize with her. We, too, have undergone situations or experiences where we’ve been asked to be less of who we are, to fit in more, to tone it down or dial it up. We’ve had to make the same bad Faustian Bargain she refers to below  to survive.

“It was a Faustian Bargain, and I couldn’t take it. And, forgive my weakness, but I cried. For the opportunity I had, just moments ago, been so thrilled to receive, gone just as fast. For my resentment of being put in a position where I had to choose between my career and my ethics. For all the other people, just like me, who are likely given these kinds of choices all the time, but who— for fear of losing future opportunities, or for fear that this is their only opportunity, or who simply cannot turn down money—take the bargain. For the pure frustration that only years of dealing with the same kind of bullshit over and over again can inspire. For the fear that this kind of limitation will be what defines my career. I cried, and I felt ashamed that I was crying and furious that I’d been made to cry by an industry that will never cry over me.”

What’s most troubling is this is not an exception. It’s become a trend. Censorship, whitewashing, banning of our stories and books are more frequent and regular now. A crusade by a vocal minority to decide for the majority what we can and should read.

Kelly Yang, a New York Times bestselling author as well as a best selling author for Scholastic weighed in to support Maggie Tokuda-Hall with this message to the publisher:

“As one of your top authors, I’m asking you to have more courage. You cannot be quietly self-censoring. Whatever pressure you may be facing, know that your authors are facing even more pressure. And we’re still out here writing these books. Risking our lives. Bleeding to make you millions. Trying to write the books for the next generation that will hopefully improve the world.

Anyone of us who is different has always had to be brave whether we knew it or not. We have had to dig deep to find courage. And we do.

Good leaders know that not only do stories need to be told, they need to be told in its entirety no matter how uncomfortable they may be. Knowing the truth may prevent history repeating itself. Pushing past the discomfort to understanding could enable any of us to stand up for what’s just and right. 

We don’t need a specific day or month to find our voice and share our stories. Maggie, Kelly, you, me, everyone - our stories need to be told and heard. Let’s do it whenever, wherever, with whoever will listen, when we’re ready. 


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Help LEAP develop leaders through our programs that give encouragement and confidence to find their voice, speak their truth and share their stories. Starting May 1 through May 31, 2023, LEAP will be participating in the Give In May campaign hosted by the Asian Pacific Fund and AAPI Data to raise awareness and funds LEAP and for many other Asian and Pacific Islander serving nonprofits across the country.  Mark your calendars to donate to LEAP as part of the Give in May campaign starting May 1st!


ABout the author

Linda Akutagawa (she/hers) is President and CEO of LEAP (Leadership Education for Asian Pacifics), an organization she has led for the last 10 years. She is committed to developing Asian and Pacific Islanders leaders, and from the classroom to the boardroom, she actively advocates for inclusive pathways for diverse leaders.

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