The U.S. Census, a decennial count of the nation’s population, presents an opportunity for every American to be counted. While many questions on the Census form appear straightforward, the question about race can be particularly complex, especially for Asian Americans. Despite being the fastest-growing population group in the United States, Asian Americans are notably the least likely to complete the Census. This complexity arises partly from the broad definition of “Asian” used by the Census Bureau, which includes individuals “having origins in any of the original peoples of the Far East, Southeast Asia, or the Indian subcontinent including, for example, Cambodia, China, India, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, Pakistan, the Philippine Islands, Thailand, and Vietnam.”
This definition, as highlighted by the Pew Research Center, encompasses over 20 ethnicities and more than 20 million U.S. citizens. Yet, within American culture, the perception of who is considered “Asian” is often narrower. A simple online search for “Asian food nearby” frequently yields results for Chinese or Japanese cuisine, often overlooking Indian or Filipino options. The question “Do Indians count as Asians?” even became a topic of discussion on college admission forums and prompted the SAT to clarify in 2016 that “Asian” includes those of “Indian subcontinent and Philippines origin.” This ambiguity extended into the political sphere when Andrew Yang, of Taiwanese descent, was frequently labeled as “the Asian candidate” during the 2020 Presidential race, despite Kamala Harris’s Indian heritage. Even historically, the categorization has shifted, with Pacific Islanders being grouped with Asians in the Census before 2000.
Yang himself acknowledged this nuance, stating, “My Asian-ness is kind of obvious in a way that might not be true of Kamala or even Tulsi. That’s not a choice. It’s just a fairly evident reality.” However, the historical context of Asian identity in the U.S. reveals that today’s “evident reality” is a product of evolving perceptions and classifications, with significant consequences for representation and resource allocation.
The Invention of “Asian American” Identity
The very concept of “Asian” identity is fluid, as the geographical boundary between Asia and Europe lacks a definitive line. The Census definition could technically include Central Asians, East Asians, Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders, Southeast Asians, South Asians, and even West Asians (though the Census categorizes Middle Easterners as white). However, the contemporary American understanding of “Asian” is a relatively recent development, gaining traction post-World War II.
Data from the Corpus of Historical American English indicates minimal usage of “Asian” in American texts from 1810 to the 1940s, with less than one appearance per million words. This sharply increased in the 1950s to nearly 15 mentions per million words, mirroring a similar trend in British English. This surge coincided with increased U.S. engagement with East Asian countries through wars in Japan, Korea, and Vietnam, alongside the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, which facilitated greater Asian immigration to the U.S.
The British context offers a contrasting perspective. In the UK, where post-colonial immigration from South Asia was significant in the mid-20th century, “Asian” often defaults to meaning “from the Indian subcontinent.” Linguist Lynne Murphy notes that a British journalist would use “Asian” to refer to those from the Indian subcontinent and “East Asians” for people from China, Korea, or Japan. In the U.S., the reverse is often true, with “Asian” commonly implying “East Asian,” and “Indian” or “South Asian” being used for those from the Indian subcontinent.
The civil rights movements of the 1960s and 70s provided a catalyst for Asian populations in the U.S. to advocate for their rights. Student activists, inspired by these movements, coined the term “Asian American” as an intentionally broad umbrella. Recognizing their relatively smaller numbers compared to other minority groups, activists of Chinese, Filipino, and Japanese descent united under this pan-ethnic identity. This movement expanded to include South-Asian, Korean, and Vietnamese Americans.
As Asian Americans sought greater visibility, “Asian” and “Asian American” became widely accepted terms, replacing outdated and problematic labels like “Oriental,” which was prevalent before the 1950s. However, the meaning of “Asian” gradually narrowed in popular perception, increasingly associating with the most visible East Asian subgroups.
Sociologist Anthony Ocampo explains that “Asian” became linked to physical appearance, such as “eye shape, skin tone, and hair texture.” The term often evokes “certain types of last names” associated with Chinese, Korean, or Japanese origins.
A 2016 study by the National Asian American Survey revealed that 42% of white Americans believed Indians were “not likely to be” Asian or Asian American, and 45% held the same view for Pakistanis. Even within the Asian American community, 27% felt Pakistanis were “not likely to be” Asian American, and 15% felt the same about Indians. The study concluded, “The question of Asian American identity is contested, with South Asian groups (Indians and Pakistanis) finding it more challenging for American society to view them as Asian American.”
The Consequences of a Narrow Definition
Historically, the U.S. Census has reflected evolving perceptions of race. The initial Census in 1790 had only “Free white males, Free white females,” “All other free persons,” and “Slaves.” It wasn’t until 1870 that a category for people of Asian descent, “Chinese,” was added. Subsequent Censuses included “Japanese” (1890), “Other” (1910) for Koreans, Filipinos, and Indians, and finally “Filipino,” “Korean,” and “Hindu” (1920) to denote Indians regardless of religion.
Since 1960, individuals have been able to self-identify their race. The 2010 and the upcoming Census maintain categories like “Chinese,” “Japanese,” “Filipino,” “Korean,” “Asian Indian,” “Vietnamese,” and “Other Asian.” Despite this seemingly inclusive list, the question of who “counts” as Asian persists and carries significant implications.
Ocampo argues that “the narrative defines who gets the already few limited resources and airtime that are afforded to Asian Americans.” Discussions about Asian representation in media often center on East Asian narratives, such as films like Parasite, The Farewell, and Crazy Rich Asians. Actress Asia Jackson highlighted the erasure of Black Asians, stating, “I find that Black Asians are nearly entirely erased from the convo of being Asian. Like, I’m not even allowed to audition for Asian roles because Hollywood’s vision of ‘Asian’ is just East Asian.”
This sense of exclusion is particularly relevant when completing forms like the Census. Research on “social identity threat” shows that identity-related questions can trigger doubts about social belonging, potentially impacting performance in unrelated areas. Psychology professor Joshua Aronson explains that anything making individuals overly conscious of their identity in a confusing or high-stakes manner can be problematic.
Underrepresentation in the Census leads to misallocation of federal resources and a flawed understanding of community needs. Census data significantly influences political decisions, funding distribution, and the allocation of Congressional and state legislative seats.
The lower Census participation rates among Asian Americans stem from various factors, including concerns about data privacy (exacerbated by the historical misuse of Census data during Japanese American internment), language barriers, feelings of neglect, and unfamiliarity with the Census process. A study indicated that Asian Americans are more likely than other groups to fear their answers being “used against” them.
Efforts to improve Census participation within Asian communities include outreach by civic organizations and Census Bureau ads in Asian languages like Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, Tagalog, and Vietnamese. However, Representative Grace Meng raised concerns about the exclusion of South Asian languages in initial outreach efforts, urging the Census Bureau to include the South Asian community. The Census Bureau responded by indicating plans to expand outreach to include South Asian languages.
The effectiveness of these outreach programs and whether they reach all Asian American subgroups remains to be seen. Demographers recognize the value of disaggregated data, as Lakshmi Sridaran of South Asian Americans Leading Together notes, “Good data should always be as disaggregated as possible… To understand the nuances within the Asian American community, it does matter if somebody is a Pacific Islander, Southeast Asian, East Asian, etc.” This detailed data is crucial for resource allocation and addressing the diverse needs within the Asian American population.
However, echoing the spirit of the original Asian American activists, there is also strength in unity. Sridaran poses a critical question for contemporary activists: “how we can leverage the power of coming together under that broader identity, but also uplift those who often get erased or sidelined.” This ongoing dialogue highlights the complex and evolving nature of Asian American identity and the importance of inclusive representation in the Census and beyond.
