Asian Community: Near and Far

The scent of Asian snacks. The familiar tune of Mandarin’s tones. Product labels that I couldn’t read. The lingering taste of authentic Hebei dishes. The lychee’s spikes gently pressed into my hand. 

I have finally experienced a glimpse of the joys a large Asian community offers. But for the much needed context to this statement, let’s rewind to the late 2000s.

Growing up in a predominantly white Florida suburb, it was safe to assume that I didn’t have much representation, cultural awareness, or an interest in my culture—or really, anything positive relating to minorities in my town. Instead, I often faced humiliation for my culture, shaped by years of continuous prejudice. 

Due to my experiences with discrimination, my younger self often wished that he was not Asian, but instead was white, leading him to embark on a series of fear-driven transformative actions. I stopped bringing homemade dishes to school in my packed lunch, avoided speaking in Mandarin with my mom in public, and tried to overly immerse myself in Western culture, be it movies, music, or living habits. However, as the larger society around me—the Western world—embraced Asian pop culture, it eased my reentry into my roots. This normalization of my own culture in the world surrounding me helped me become more comfortable in my own skin, which led to a stronger pride in my cultural background. 

I entered university with this mindset, eager to immerse myself in Asian culture, and I was delighted to discover that there were numerous thriving student-led Asian organizations here. This alone was already quite a positive departure from my home city—there were no Asian Night Markets or Lunar New Year Banquets events where I grew up. But here, those are just two of the many exciting events that Asian clubs organize each year.

This involvement began when I met my dear friend and mentor, Josh, an upperclassman who supported my newfound state of cultural immersion. At his recommendation, I became involved with the Asian Students in America (ASiA) club and gradually got involved in varying degrees with most Asian organizations. I quickly made friends through my active participation in the Asian clubs.

Fast forward a year, and I embarked on a trip to Toronto, Canada. While I predicted there would be a higher Asian population than Florida—because nearly anywhere could beat the representation in my hometown—I had no clue just how life changing my trip would be. The transformative experiences primarily came from my time in Markham, a beautiful suburb of the Greater Toronto area. With a population made up of 67% Asians (Markham Census, 2016), it is no surprise that Asian cultures thrive in Markham.

I fondly remember standing in the middle of a Chinese supermarket, surrounded by an area where my minority culture was the customary way of life. I recall the scent of Asian snacks and fruit all around me. I remember being unable to read products labeled with Chinese characters. My taste buds still celebrated over the recent joy of Hebei specialties, the mini spikes of the lychee fruit that I held gently indenting my skin. Above all, all I could hear being spoken around me was Mandarin—and in the rare case that it wasn’t Mandarin being spoken, it was another Asian language.

For a person who grew up without experiencing the joys of having their culture in full display, this experience was incredibly transformative. Be it the rich spices that danced on (and burned) my tongue at restaurants, the delicate balance of flavor in the boba tea that I frequently sipped, or all the non-English conversations I held with strangers—this trip was filled to the brim with moments that will accompany me for my whole life.

On a sadder note, my preview into the possibilities of life in Markham made me realize all the experiences I had missed out on. My brief encounter with such abundant culture and diversity made the return to my bleak hometown an unfortunate inevitability. But I decided to turn my longing for greater diversity and expression of culture into a tool for improvement back at home. 

Since my trip, I have worked harder than ever to strengthen the student-led Asian community here at USF, transforming feelings of inadequacy and envy toward regions with more Asian representation into drive to further cultural initiatives here. After all, an incoming freshman’s experience at the Chinese Culture and Language Club’s Mid Autumn Festival or Asian Student in America’s Night of Thanks could be the magical cultural immersion that they’ve always dreamed of. The club events that I have been entrusted to design and lead could be someone else’s Markham. I am glad to say that I turned my momentous cultural experience and subsequent longing for community into the fuel for my mission to better the Asian community back at home. 

Rysun Chu, 2025 | Published on USF Sparks Magazine