Growing up in a predominantly white Indiana suburb with a deep history of racism, the Asian American community was my sanctuary.

Many of our parents didn’t fully understand how this Asian American identity formed and pulled together such a diverse group of people, but for us, it just fit. We tasted each other’s foods, listened to each other’s music, were unapologetically ourselves in a way we couldn’t be in other spaces. When we couldn’t find home in our school, we found it in each other and in the community we built together.

But even that comfortable, safe space had its jagged edges. In middle and high school, I experienced colorism from lighter skinned Asians and stereotyped jokes about South Asians, sometimes from my closest friends. Asians with darker skin tones were made to feel less desirable. And in conversations about Asian identities, I had to constantly remind people that South Asians are Asian too. Sometimes, those reminders were met with a comment of “Well, I mean real Asians.”

When college came, I sometimes heard South and Southeast Asian cultures being called more savage, uncivilized or lower class. I watched close friends date and defend Asian partners who openly showed their colorism, anti-Blackness (which often goes hand-in-hand with colorism), and feelings of cultural superiority over other AAPI communities.

‘SOLIDARITY IS THE ANSWER’:Amid a rise in hate crimes, Black and Asian Americans are standing together

I was even reluctant to join many AAPI student organizations with little to no South, Southeast Asian and Pacific Islander representation. These were the groups meant to represent me, but almost no one who looked like me were part of them.

It was enough, sometimes, to make me wonder where I really belonged. And always, it felt like a betrayal coming from within a community I cherish.