When I was a kid, the grown-ups around me would use a term in Cantonese (loh meen) that literally translates as “to get face.” They’d say, for example, that the only reason why so-and-so was doing such-and-such was to “get face.” I grew up with an intuitive understanding of the term, but I never knew how to translate it into English. You might say it means respect or esteem. You want other people to think highly of you, but you don’t want to be boastful about it. That’s part of maintaining the guise of Asian stoicism.

Emotional People Are Weak

You see, I was raised to be non-confrontational. Don’t cause any trouble, don’t ruffle any feathers, and certainly do not draw any attention to yourself. Just keep your head down, defer to authority, and work hard. And certainly don’t outwardly express your emotions in public. Or even in private for that matter. Don’t cry, don’t raise your voice, don’t cause a scene. It’s better to step away quietly than it is to “make trouble.”

To the best of my recollection, I’ve never seen my grandpa cry. Even at my grandma’s funeral. And I think I’ve only seen my dad cry twice. And neither, no matter how mad they got, would never make a scene in a public place. It just wasn’t done.

This also applied to asking for help. You just didn’t do it, because you shouldn’t bother anyone unnecessarily. Do it yourself. Be self-sufficient. Don’t trouble anyone else with your shortcomings. They’re your problem, not theirs. Don’t let other people see your weakness. That’s how you lose face. That’s how you lose the respect of your peers.

I never really had the words to articulate this approach to life, nor did I think it was especially strange or harmful. It’s only now, as a working adult and father with real responsibilities, that I’ve come to recognize this as Asian stoicism.

The philosophical school of Stoicism dates all the way back to Ancient Greece. In short, it champions the idea that you should endure pain or hardship without complaint. Don’t show your feelings. Just accept things as they present themselves in a sort of cold detachment.

The Problem With Asian Stoicism

But, you can see how encouraging this sense of Asian stoicism also perpetuates the myth of the model minority. Don’t cause trouble. Keep your head down, never lose your cool, and just put in the work. Did you get passed over for a promotion again? Don’t get angry at your manager and certainly don’t cause a scene. Just keep your head down and keep working. Your manager will see your dedication eventually. Then, he’ll give you face. And if he doesn’t, that just means you don’t deserve it anyway.

Oh, and see how other people are being treated unjustly? Say nothing. Do nothing. It doesn’t concern you. Why cause trouble?

It is precisely because of this silence, this intentional inaction, that so many Asian Americans and Asian Canadians have become complicit in systemic racism. We kept quiet. We stayed out of the way. Whereas western culture tends to reward or celebrate the outspoken and the ambitious, Asian culture does the opposite. Speaking up gets smacked out of you as a child. Asian culture demands deference, respect, humility (even if it’s false), and lockstep obedience.

You Must Never Lose Face

In A Cook’s Tour, the late Anthony Bourdain writes:

It’s unusual in an Asian country to see someone visibly angry. It’s just not done. When one loses one’s cool and one’s control, starts screaming and yelling and making faces, one is considered to have lost the argument. Hence the term losing face.

“Losing face” is about much more than losing your cool. It’s about losing the respect of your peers. “Losing face” is exactly the opposite of “getting face.”

This is the kind of thing you hear about when someone brings “great dishonor” to their family. This is the motivation behind those men (and they’re almost always men) who get caught up in a scandal and choose to murder their family before taking their own lives. It’s more “honorable” that way, because then the family won’t have to “live” with your “dishonor.”

Losing face would be too much. It’s better to suffer in quiet.

A Calm and Detached Demeanor?

A big part of what it means to be a good Asian is to maintain this “face” of Asian stoicism at all times. Indeed, this gets played out again and again with the trope of the Asian mystic. The wise man of the mountain, as it were, typically sitting cross-legged in some temple, perhaps stroking his extra long beard. He’s calm, practically emotionless (aside from poking fun at you), and miraculously insightful (even if cryptic).

The guy who gets visibly angry? The person who stirs up a big scene at the restaurant for whatever reason? They’ve lost face. Perhaps there is something to all of this. It is a good idea to detach yourself from the situation, even if temporarily, and assess it on a more objective, rational, logical level. At the same time, constantly suppressing our emotions can’t possibly be good for mental health.

If something is “wrong,” we need to speak up. We need to say something. A great point of pride for me — even if it’s also a source of frustration at times — is how much my daughter’s personality can differ from my own. She’s very outspoken. Indeed, her preschool teachers once told me that she is very good at “advocating for herself.” A stoic she most decidedly is not.

And I think that’s great.