Stella Yi, a public health researcher at NYU, is tired of the lies we tell about our health. She lays out the problem for AAPI Heritage Month. It isn’t just a stereotype anymore. It is a dangerous blind spot in American medicine.
The “model minority” myth says we are successful. Healthy. Low risk. We are told we live longer, die less often, and make better life choices than everyone else.
It’s a polished lie.
The reality is ugly. We have high rates of liver and bile duct cancer. Vitamin D deficiency is common. Osteoporosis strikes hard. Breast and cervical cancer hit us too. But here is the kicker—we have the lowest screening rates for things like mammograms and the HPV vaccine that could prevent this. During the pandemic, we absorbed a wave of hate. Our mental and physical health suffered. Yet, the healthcare system barely looked up.
Why?
We are invisible.
Most health studies in the U.S. are done in English. Sixty percent? No, it’s 36% of us who don’t speak English well enough to be included in those studies. Who gets left behind? Those without a degree. Those without money. The data ends up representing only the rich and educated Asians, reinforcing the myth that we are all fine.
Investment hasn’t helped either. For 26 years, Asian Americans got a pittance—0.17% —of the NIH’s clinical research budget. We are the fastest-growing demographic, and that’s our cut.
Then there is the mask of aggregation.
Hospitals and agencies lump “Asian” into one bucket. People from over 50 countries. Distinct cultures, languages, genetic risks. All crushed into one misleading average. It hides the truth.
Take heart disease. South Asian and Filipino women get it. They get it early. They get it at lower BMIs than the “normal” white population. But doctors often miss it. One doctor refused an A1C screening for a South Asian patient. Why? Because her BMI looked normal. She was at risk anyway. Initiatives like Screen at 23 exist to fix this, but awareness among providers remains spotty at best.
How do we fix this? It’s not just about better medicine. It’s about better science. We need researchers who understand migration. Who understand that family care works differently. Who don’t treat “Asian” as a monolith.
Our health is personal.
For too long, we have hidden in plain sight behind positive stereotypes. We deserve data that reflects our actual bodies. We need policies that see the nuance. Science has failed us. Now it’s time for it to catch up.
What You Can Actually Do
Talking about it helps. Acting helps more. If you care about closing this gap, here are three concrete steps.
- Get on a clinical trial.
Medical guidelines were written without us in mind. Drug dosages, screening ages—it’s all based on white or other populations. By joining studies like MOSAAIC (Multi-Ethnic Observational Study of Asian American and Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander Health), you help rewrite the rules. Make the standards work for our bodies.
- Find your tribe.
Support groups that fight for us. There’s APIAHF (Asian Pacific Islander American Health Forum) for policy. NCAPIP (National Council of Asian Pacific Islander Professionals in Healthcare) for professionals. Local organizations provide direct care and education. When research involves the community, we lead the change.
- Advocate for disaggregated data.
Demand that hospitals stop saying “Asian.” Say East Asian. South Asian. Southeast Asian. Filipino. The risks are different. Heart disease kills more South Asian and Filipino women than East Asian ones, but lumped data hides this fact. Support groups like the Coalition for Asian American Children and Families that push for legislation requiring separate data collection. Break the monolith.
Who does the system actually serve?
Stella Yi is an Associate Professor at NYU Grossman School of Population Health. She studies nutrition and cardiometabolic diseases in immigrant groups. These are her views.
The door is open. But we have to push it ourselves.
