Asians as a whole are not, of course, considered white people: The 2018 census form allows respondents to select from a number of Asian ethnicities. And not all academics agree that whitening will take place for Asian and Latino communities—Warren and Jacobson both say it isn’t happening, at least not to the degree it did previously. That’s partly because, as Jacobson notes, Asians and Latinos suffer from racial stereotypes such as the “model math student,” and the “immigration menace,” as he called it, that mark them as foreigners and non-whites.

My own family and I immigrated to the United States when I was a toddler, and I grew up in small towns in the South. I was often the only Asian in my class, and there were times my classmates had no qualms about excluding or ridiculing me for my culture and race. My experience is not that of a white person’s. And there are plenty of ways in which Asians, including those with high socioeconomic status, do not have privilege. They are the least likely of any racial group to be promoted into management positions. They are often little represented or whitewashed in the media, or harmfully stereotyped.

The thorny relationship between Asians and Affirmative Action

While my parents and I are Taiwanese immigrants who didn’t have much money when we arrived in the U.S., we eventually climbed the economic ladder and became comfortably middle class. As an adult, I consider myself a member of the socioeconomic group that a Pakistani-American friend of mine half-jokingly calls “bougie Asians.” I’m well-educated, with a degree from an Ivy League school, and live in one of the most expensive cities in the world. In the course of reading and writing about these cases, I’ve had to think hard about my own experiences as a Taiwanese-American woman, and whether I’m perceived as a minority—or being pushed by outside forces in the direction of a white person’s status.

When I have asked myself whether or not I have ever been granted white privileges, I have found myself growing uncomfortable. I recounted to a friend strange instances where potential employers made offhand comments about how they could “tell” that I was a hard worker. “How would they know?” I remarked, annoyed. “I don’t even work that hard.” My friend, who is black, paused, then said, “That”—the unearned assumption that I’m a hard worker— “sounds like the kind of thing that would get you a job.”

It’s a fair point. Being in the good graces of white people helped me win plum housing deals. It helped bring me pay raises and perhaps even jobs themselves. This isn’t to say that I haven’t come by my accomplishments honestly. But I do not fear for my life when the police are around. No one has ever crossed the street when I’ve approached or followed me around a store. For the most part, I do not believe I am negatively racially profiled by law enforcement, in housing opportunities or at retail stores. I’m not under any illusions about the way white society perceives me. But the racism and discrimination I face as a relatively privileged East Asian woman is, in some instances, markedly different than that of other minority groups, including Asians of other backgrounds and socioeconomic statuses.