Growing up as an Asian American, mental health within my household seemed like a cultural taboo in which my family and I refrained from sharing our emotions and internal struggles. Such emotions ended up being revealed anyway through anger outbursts or tearful moments. I didn’t consider the importance of my mental health until I sought out counseling as a college student. During my time in college, I also learned about the need for mental health advocacy by serving as the education co-chair for my university’s chapter of Active Minds. I also began to wrestle with questions of how my faith in Jesus could be integrated into my psychology major. Ultimately, I concluded that Jesus and therapy can coexist and even work together. God has gifted each of us a brain with intricate neurological processes that allow us to grow and build resiliency in the face of traumatic experiences. Through my experience in group counseling and a women’s Bible study group, I was encouraged to confront the ways that my family upbringing had impacted my sense of self. This process was not easy as I had to finally admit that despite my parents’ best intentions to raise me with love and care, their efforts were imperfect and shaped how I understood my self-worth. Furthermore, in acknowledging the need to take care of my mental health, I learned to set boundaries within my familial relationships which eventually strengthened how my family members interacted with one another and how they resolved interpersonal conflict. As I witnessed the change that came about by prioritizing my mental wellness and starting conversations about mental health among my family and university, I realized that I also wanted to support others on their journey to mental wellness. I grew in my desire to advocate for those burdened by the stigma and silence that often surrounds mental health, as this was my reality in my upbringing. For these reasons, I am currently pursuing a career as a licensed professional counselor. My hope in becoming a counselor is to not only inspire those from Asian American cultures to seek professional help but also empower people to recognize how valuable they are. I believe that when each of us sees the inherent worth that comes from being made in the image of God, we can begin to understand that our words and actions have an indelible impact. Responding out of guilt, shame, or fear no longer serves us as we learn to engage in emotional regulation, intentional connection, and reauthored stories of our lives.

There's an unsaid expectation that children of Filipino parents are expected to pursue a medical career, specifically in nursing. I wholeheartedly agree with this statement, as my parents have often questioned my desired career path in mental health counseling. There are numerous times when my parents have challenged the potential for a career in psychology in ensuring financial stability or even being useful from a scientific standpoint. Interestingly, I chose to pursue a career in mental health counseling to provide a fundamental part of the human experience that I didn't get to experience in my own family, which is the expression of emotions and struggles. My path to becoming a mental health counselor has looked less traditional as I take my graduate courses online and currently serve as an intern at a community mental health agency providing intensive in-home sessions to disadvantaged youth. Typically, graduate school is an in-person experience and most students intern at a university or a private practice. I have also noticed in my virtual class meetings that many of my peers identify with the dominant White culture, and I find myself challenged to bring new perspectives and be open to listening to the counseling experiences of my peers. As I've gone through different classes through graduate school, I've learned ways to resolve conflict and effectively communicate with my family and friends. Many of my family and friends have a misconstrued idea of counseling, in that they often ask me if I'm reading their mind as they talk to me. Albeit my initial frustration, such questions prompt the opportunity to change their understanding of the value and usefulness of counseling in bringing about mental wellness. Furthermore, when I consider that Asian Americans are statistically the ethnic group least likely to seek mental health care in the United States, I find that striving to become a mental health counselor myself enables me to encourage those in my community to seek help. Ultimately, I have found my educational route to becoming a mental health counselor to be rewarding in getting to work with a population from different cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds. I also appreciate the flexibility that comes with online courses, though it requires much more intentionality to make connections with my classmates online. Having conversations with family and friends about counseling also allows me to encourage them to talk about their mental health struggles and affirm that it's okay to not be okay.

Imagine a cyclist biking her usual route on the main road. Generally, if the cyclist slightly veers to one side or the other, she’ll be okay as long as she’s continuing to bike in the direction of traffic. Maintaining focus on balancing the bike and propelling herself forward is vital, as there are a lot of distractions that can easily grab her attention. Managing personal wellness as a college student can also look a lot like this. It takes focus and determination to move towards the direction of personal wellness, given that I don’t get distracted by health fads, the stress of academics, and the “hustle-for-worth” culture explained by Brené Brown that tempts me to just keep pushing myself without any time to rest. One way I strive towards personal wellness while attending college is by setting aside time in the morning to run at least 2 to 5 miles. I also acknowledge my limitations as a human and avoid working the entire day, so I try to stop working on school assignments and free my daily schedule after 9 pm to give myself time to decompress after a long day of school and internship. Specifically, decompressing looks like listening to ASMR videos, putting on a skincare mask, or talking to my partner. When it comes to diet, I consider if my meals incorporate any nutritious foods, like fruits, vegetables, and dairy. I try to avoid any heavily processed foods that make me feel worse rather than better, and I always make sure I have a full water bottle at my desk to keep me hydrated. I also know feelings of stress, anxiety, and sadness can get the best of me and negatively impact my motivation as a student, so I also see a counselor biweekly in order to set aside time to process my emotions and utilize coping skills in maintaining my emotional health. Taking on a multi-faceted approach to my personal wellness has helped me succeed as a student because it gives me the focus, energy, and motivation I need to complete my assignments and finish strong for my college degree. It humbles me in recognizing the need to take care of myself in light of my responsibilities as a student. Just like the cyclist, I sometimes stumble in carrying out my plan for personal wellness, especially on weeks when I have multiple essays, quizzes, and reports due at the same time. However, I believe that as long as I continue to move toward the direction of wellness, I will be able to succeed as a student and also as a human being worthy of rest and self-compassion.

Indifference. Numbness. Hopelessness. Tolerance. Admittedly, these are some of the immediate emotional reactions I have upon reading news stories of gun violence in my hometown, which hit closer and closer to my home address. One of these shootings happened a day before my birthday about four years ago—a gunman had walked into the local municipal center about four miles from my home and started recklessly shooting innocent employees and bystanders. On my birthday the following day, I remember thinking, how can I celebrate another year of life knowing that my fellow neighbors will never get to experience life itself anymore? While we hear and read countless news stories documenting another shooting where valuable lives were unjustly taken, what may be even more tragic is the reality that many of us are used to reading such stories and end up believing the lie that there’s nothing we can do to stop gun violence. However, I believe the first step to bringing about any sort of meaningful change begins with awareness. As an aspiring mental health counselor, one way I plan to use my career to shed light on the topic of gun violence is by initiating conversations with my clients about how gun violence impacts them directly or indirectly. Talking about gun violence not only dispels any discomfort on the topic but also makes it lose its power over people’s ability to live life to its fullest. Another way I plan to raise awareness is by advocating for my clients who may be experiencing mental health problems because of their experiences with gun violence. I want to ensure that they feel validated and seen in their struggles; additionally, I want to connect them to community resources such as support groups, financial programs, and legal aid organizations. Lastly, spreading awareness of gun violence as a mental health counselor looks like being involved in research studies focused on the relationship between gun violence and mental health, especially for children and adolescents who experience shootings in their schools and daycares. Such studies could provide the evidence needed to bring about tangible change in schools, the government, and workplaces. As a graduate student, it is challenging to find time to be involved in extracurricular activities that add to an already overwhelming workload. However, I still commit myself to different activities such as volunteering as a crisis counselor for the Crisis Text Line, participating in a local running club that supports non-profit organizations, and serving as an intern at a community mental health agency that provides behavioral health services to youth and their families. All of these activities not only give me purpose and vitality, but they also remind me that when it comes to violence—especially gun violence—prevention starts with awareness and advocacy.

“Wow, your parents failed you.” “Are you really Filipino?” “That’s so disappointing.” These are a few of the many comments I have heard when people find out I am a Filipina-American who can't speak Tagalog. This lack of ability has made me feel isolated among other Filipinos, but at the same time, I struggle to identify as American because of my brown skin tone and upbringing which both serve as a stark contrast to my White friends. During my childhood and teenage years, I felt lost between my Filipino and American identities. I didn’t know who or what group to identify with because I failed to meet certain expectations, and specific comments said to me made me believe I could never truly belong to either culture. Ultimately, I was stuck in the hyphen of my identity as Filipina-American, never being able to integrate both cultures in a way that undoubtedly defined me. In the past three years of dealing with COVID and living as a foreigner in East Asia, I’ve spent ample time engaging in self-reflection, having conversations with other second-generation immigrants about their struggles, and processing my time living overseas. Through these experiences, I’ve learned that AAPI culture means being confident in my own identity even as people within and outside of my culture attempt to label me. I may not speak Tagalog, but I know what it’s like to have your parents resolve conflict by giving you cut fruit instead of talking about each other's feelings. I understand the pressure to honor the sacrifices my parents made in their move from the Philippines to the United States, and the fear and avoidance of sharing my mental health struggles within my family. What if these experiences are what makes me Filipina, and not simply my skin color and ability to speak Tagalog? The values of storytelling, hospitality, and humility have been passed on to me by my parents in how I relate to others. I am currently a graduate student on my way to becoming a psychotherapist, which carries much more meaning for me as I discovered Asian Americans are statistically the least likely to seek mental health care compared to the general U.S. population. In this way, AAPI culture means advocacy for me—being able to encourage Asian Americans to take care of their mental health and being a person of color in a predominantly White, male profession. Being an AAPI also means giving voice to my experiences even if I’m the only person of color in the room or when I’m expected to stay silent. In my graduate classes, I make an effort to share with my classmates that being a Filipina-American psychotherapist can help me encourage others who identify as AAPI to also seek help. Perhaps this is where I find pride and hope in my hyphenated identity. I may not meet the standards imposed by those within each culture, but I take my experiences from both and blend them in a way that defines who I am today. As an aspiring psychotherapist, I’m taking steps to reach the community while also gaining experience working with people. One way I’m doing this is by volunteering as a crisis counselor for the Crisis Text Line. As a volunteer, I text people in crisis and empower them to identify coping skills and find relief from their struggles. Integrity plays a significant role in these conversations in that I help people in crisis, even when no one is looking. As a graduate student, I also provide virtual counseling to individuals and couples in Virginia and Texas. In these counseling sessions, I strive to put my clients first by helping them meet their goals and providing support to improve their mental health. At the end of the day, I may not be able to control the hurtful comments that people within and outside my culture may say to me, but I find resiliency in honoring my own story and the stories of others who are also navigating a hyphenated identity as an AAPI.