Asian in America: Reflections on the meaning of being American

Back in the 1990s, when I was still wearing high heels and form-fitting skirt suits, still working long hours and trying to make my way in the white male world of Los Angeles law, a guy at a gas station got mad at me for how I pulled up to the pump.

Exhausted as I was from a long day at work, I had actually made the effort to make sure someone could pull up to the pump behind me, but since he pulled in from a different part of the lot, it was all wrong to him. The few seconds it took him to navigate toward another lane were just too much for him, especially

“Where are you really from?”The threadbare fabric of belongingSaying “aloha” and meaning it