Introduction

In the winter of 1968, Asian American students at San Francisco State College, together with their Black, Chicano, and Native American counterparts, embarked on the longest student strike in U.S. history with the goal of transforming higher education. The students demanded an open admissions policy to counter increasingly elitist admissions policies. They demanded a College of Ethnic Studies to provide a "relevant" education that critically examined the experiences of Third World people within a context of racism, capitalism, and imperialism. They also insisted on a curriculum that included their histories, cultures, heritages, and contributions.¹

As Glenn Omatsu notes, involvement in the strike "deeply affected Asian American consciousness."² Students "redefined racial and ethnic identity, promoted new ways of thinking about communities, and challenged prevailing notions of power and authority."³ Under the emergent pan-Asian banner of "Yellow Power," this new identity and critical consciousness represented "a rejection of the passive Oriental stereotype and symbolize(d) the birth of a new Asian—one who will recognize and deal with injustices."⁴

While the political conditions that gave rise to the Asian American movement have largely faded under the weight of political conservatism and backlash, the goals of Asian American activists have persisted. Indeed, [End Page 59] in the 35-plus years since their movement's inception, Asian Americans have made significant progress toward the goal of transforming higher education. A new interdisciplinary field of knowledge has been established. Asian American Studies has been institutionalized in programs and courses across the country. The 2003 Cornell University Directory lists 50 Asian American Studies Programs.⁵ Asian American student activism has played a central role in the formation of many of these programs.

It is evident that young Asian Americans, like their 1960s counterparts, have continued to develop an Asian American critical consciousness and commitment to working for social change. What is less obvious is how those Asian Americans develop such a critical consciousness. What leads them to become interested in Asian American issues and activism?

Some answers can be found scattered in the literature. Autobiographies and biographies of Asian American activists offer one source of information, often revealing how individuals arrived at their understanding of and commitment to political activity on behalf of Asian Americans. Helen Zia, for example, in her book Asian American Dreams, tells of how she went against the wishes of her Confucian father to go to Princeton, where, in the midst of the tumultuous 1960s, she became an Asian American activist.⁶

The literature on pedagogy in Asian American Studies offers indirect insights into the process of consciousness-development by identifying key teaching practices and course content that can help to change the minds of students. Diane Fujino's chapter on integrating feminist pedagogy in Asian American classrooms is a good example. She shows how experiential learning activities, combined with personal and academic-oriented reflection, can help to move students toward an Asian American consciousness.⁷

Within the realm of social science research, the best discussion of how Asian Americans develop a pan-Asian identity and consciousness is in Nazli Kibria's Becoming Asian American.⁸ Based on interviews with second-generation Chinese and Koreans, Kibria's study often found that most respondents developed a pan-Asian consciousness in college, where a "notable individual or class had provided them with the decisive push."⁹ Involvement in pan-Asian campus organizations, in Ethnic Studies classes, and in pan-Asian social groups was a significant influence for many. [End Page 60]

This article builds upon and extends the existing literature. Based on interviews with 30 Asian Americans who professed a pan-Asian American critical consciousness and commitment to social action, the article looks specifically at the process by which these respondents developed their interests, a process to which Brazilian educator Paulo Freire refers as "conscientization."¹⁰ The central purpose is to identify key factors, conditions, and processes that contribute to their critical consciousness. The article begins with a description of the research methods and analytic strategies. The main body of the article presents the analyses of the interviews. The article concludes with a discussion of how the research findings can inform those activists and educators who work to bring new generations of Asian Americans into the movement to "replenish the ranks."

The Study

The study's focus on the process of Asian American conscientization emerged, somewhat serendipitously, from a larger interview study of Asian Americans in higher education that began in 1988. Between 1988 and 1992, I conducted fifty-three in-depth interviews with Asian American college students. The goal was to collect general life stories that explored the issues of family, identity, education, and racism. In that first group of respondents, twelve students described themselves as having a strong pan-Asian American identity. They were involved in Asian American Studies or student activities on campus. Though conscientization was not part of my original research focus, their stories sparked an interest that I pursued more directly in a second wave of interviews.

In 1998, I set out to follow up my interest in learning more about the process of conscientization. Unlike the first set of interviews, where the sampling goal was to produce as diverse a pool of respondents as possible, in the second wave of interviews I was more purposeful in the development of interview subjects.¹¹ Interested in interviewing Asian Americans who were actively involved in pan-Asian American activities, I identified several respondents through contacts with Asian American cultural and resource centers on college campuses in Southern California. Other subjects were found through a snowball sampling method, where interviewees put me [End Page 61] into contact with other people across the country whom they knew to be involved in Asian American activism. A total of eighteen interviews were conducted between 1998 and 2002.

Bringing the two sets of interviews together yields a sample of 30 Asian Americans, representing a wide range of constituencies and involvement in Asian American activities. A table presenting demographic characteristics of all respondents appears in the Appendix. Of the 30 respondents, 17 were female. There were 9 Koreans, 6 Chinese, 5 Japanese, 3 Filipinos, 1 Indian, and 3 respondents of mixed-heritage. Eight of the interviewees were second-generation, born to immigrant parents. Six were born outside of the United States, and all had immigrated before the age of six. Three were either third- or fourth-generation, and one had parents from different generations.

The respondents were active in a number of Asian American related activities, and were often involved in multiple activities.¹² All had taken at least one Asian American Studies course. Four had majored in Asian American Studies, and one had minored in the field. Five were in or had completed a graduate program in Asian American Studies, or in another discipline with a primary focus on Asian Americans. Seven respondents were involved or worked in offices that provided social, cultural, and political programming on Asian American issues. Eighteen of the thirty were involved in Asian American student organizations. Two had participated in statewide or regional Asian American groups. Four respondents had worked in an Asian American community-based organization.

Interviews with respondents lasted between one and three hours. I followed what Norman Denzin calls a "nonstructured, scheduled interview" format.¹³ This method facilitates comparability across cases by defining common areas of inquiry, but does not impose a fixed order to the questioning which may restrict responses. In each interview, general areas of education, family, and race and racism were covered. When references to conscientization surfaced in the interviews, follow-up questions were asked to elicit more detailed information.

The overarching purpose of the study shaped the data analysis strategy. My goal was to understand the process by which respondents had developed their critical consciousness. I wanted to identify the conditions, influences, processes, and experiences that had contributed to conscientization. [End Page 62] This objective meant taking an inductive approach to the analysis of interviews, which allows "important analytic dimensions to emerge from patterns found in the cases without presupposing in advance what the important dimensions will be."¹⁴ Interview transcripts were first analyzed individually, paying close attention to those passages where respondents described how their critical consciousness had developed. Then, interviews were analyzed across cases, developing codes and categories that captured patterns and themes grounded in the data.¹⁵ What follows is an analysis of the process of conscientization as it emerged from the interviews.¹⁶

Conscientization as a Transformative Possibility

For the vast majority of respondents, developing an Asian American critical consciousness involved a process that was transformative, where knowledge of and commitment to Asian American concerns represented a significant change from earlier views they had held in their lives. Most had paid little attention of being Asian or to racism against Asians while growing up. With the exception of two respondents, all were "first-generation" Asian American activists, in that they were the first in their family to develop a critical awareness of issues.

David Chan,¹⁷ for example, had grown up in a predominantly white neighborhood in Southern California. He had thought of himself as an "ultra-American" while growing up. In high school, he had clowned around, done drugs, dropped out, and dove heavily into the graffiti art scene. After a less than illustrious academic start, David had found his way to a community college, then to a university, and had ended up getting a master's degree in Asian American Studies.

Margaret Eu also had grown up in Southern California, in a traditional middle-class household where her Korean immigrant father worked in various entrepreneurial enterprises while her mother stayed home to raise the children. Through the seventh grade, the most significant influence in Margaret's life had been the Christian church. Later, she had been a "super-active high school student," involved in activities like cheerleading, student government, mock trial, and drama. She had gone to college with little awareness of Asian American issues. She now has a master's degree in student development and is working in Asian American student affairs. [End Page 63]

Pearl Cruz, raised in affluent Marin County, California, described herself as "mega-apolitical" and "very, very, very apathetic" while growing up. She had been "very into my own little Marin lifestyle." She had gone to a private elementary school and later to a private high school. Pearl had attended an Ivy League university for two years, where she got involved in feminist student activities, and then had transferred to the University of California where she majored in Asian American Studies.

Raj Kapur was born and raised in the Washington D.C. area. Growing up, Raj described himself as shy and quiet. In high school, he had felt that he "had a real low self-esteem problem at the time, so that kind of caused some degree of low achievement." He was not active in extra-curricular activities and pretty much stayed to himself. In college, Raj had become actively involved in Asian American student organizations and was one of the most articulate and outspoken members of the community.

The fact that these young Asian Americans, from widely varying class, geographic, political, and ethnic backgrounds, could find their way to Asian American activism speaks to the real possibility that young people can become critically conscious and politically active. Their active involvement is especially noteworthy given the post-Civil Rights climate that surrounds them, where the political momentum has shifted to the right and hopes for student activism are often drowned in a sea of apathy or hopelessness. These Asian Americans had gone against the grain and had become politically involved. They had realized what Cornell West calls the "politics of conversion," where the tendency toward nihilism is countered by "a chance for people to believe that there is hope for the future and a meaning to struggle."¹⁸ So, what had happened to change and shape their views? What had contributed to the development of their critical consciousness? Analysis of the interviews reveals common patterns of factors and conditions that contribute to the development of an Asian American critical consciousness.

The Importance of a "Meaningful Education"

In talking about how they had become interested in Asian American issues, respondents invariably pointed to moments when new information and perspectives profoundly affected their thinking by helping them to see how [End Page 64] their lives, as Asian Americans, were shaped by larger historical and social forces. In this way, the information had carried significant meaning and relevance, helping them to understand their lives in new ways.

For Brian Kim, for example, conscientization had begun in an Asian American history course. It "really changed my view on how this society works and where we fit in." He said, "I just never thought of what our history is here or what my, say our ancestors came here for, the first generation. I just never knew." That first class had inspired Brian to switch out of his pre-med studies and declare a major in Asian American Studies. Echoing Cornell West's notion of conversion, Brian says, "So that's where I am now. So you see I'm a converted Asian."

An Asian American psychology class had exerted a transformative impact on Margaret Eu's thinking. Information about the Asian American experience was meaningful because it had helped her to make sense of experiences in her life and family. It had offered language and concepts that explained why and how racism and sexism operated:

That was the first time that academically I was reading something that was so relevant to my experience and my identity. . . .[E]verything made so much sense. It was like somebody was explaining my life history, my life pattern on paper, and in theory and in literature.¹⁹

David Tan echoes Margaret's comments. Like many of his peers, David Tan had not been interested in political activism when he graduated from high school. He was "all about having fun." When he had entered college, he said, "I was paying attention more to the women than to the professors." But, information in an Asian American Studies class had resonated deeply with David; his professor had offered insights that not only helped him to understand his life experiences, but also inspired him to learn more:

He went into the issues of family relations, generational conflicts, the model minority, anti-Asian violence. Just everything that happened in my life, he explained it. That's when I realized, this is what I want to do. I need to learn more.²⁰

While formal Asian American courses had played pivotal roles in conscientization, the classroom was not the only place where respondents had been exposed to life-altering perspectives and information. David Tan's critical consciousness had deepened through his participation in a [End Page 65] student group. The group had showed the movie, "Who Killed Vincent Chin," about the 1982 slaying of a Chinese American man by two unemployed, white auto workers. It had struck a deep nerve. As David had watched Vincent Chin's mother fight to win justice for her son, David had thought of his grandmother and the struggles she faced as an immigrant, non-English-speaker woman. Here, the content of the movie and articles had intersected with David's life and led him to make new connections:

That's an example of that sort of connection, of seeing things and knowing how race played a part and seeing how those kinds of elements played itself out in my life and my family's life, especially for my grandmother.²¹

Pearl Cruz had begun to change when a friend invited her to attend a meeting to organize a campus protest. Watching and listening to powerful and articulate women of color speak out about racism and sexism had inspired Pearl:

I went home that summer and devoured every piece of feminist literature I could get my hands on. So I'm just sitting there reading like a maniac all summer long, just digesting what had happened that year. . . . It was really something, it hit me all at once.²²

Ryan Suzuki's interest in issues of oppression had first been piqued in diversity training workshops he took as a resident advisor. Later, in graduate school, a key mentor, Ricardo Munoz, had helped Ryan to develop his conceptual and analytic understanding. Munoz had pushed Ryan to do more reading about the systematic nature of oppression in the United States. Ryan describes Munoz's influence as follows:

He really put a much more intellectual analysis to things. . . . It was more about the systematic things that were going on, about changing structures, about resources, those kinds of things, rather than just that a person needs to be sensitized.²³

In these cases, we begin to see more precisely what it means to have a "relevant" and "meaningful" education. For Joe, Ryan, and David, conscientization meant being able to see themselves in larger social structural contexts, not simply as individuals but as people whose lives intersect with and are shaped by race and racism. [End Page 66]

For Brian, information about the history of Asian Americans had prompted critical reflections on two levels. First, because he had never known about the history of Asian Americans, the class had given him new information that had helped him to understand his family history. Second, it had led him to critically reflect upon his previous education. He questioned why he hadn't learned any of this before? Why was his experience absent from U.S. history courses? This process had led him to think more critically about the racism embedded in his educational experiences.

Margaret had experienced a similar reaction. She had realized that her education had only taught her about European American history, prompting her to ask, "how many students were out there who never would take this class. . . and would never really know more than one version of history?" Her Asian American courses had provided the analytic tools and language needed to see the reason and logic of racism, sexism, and heterosexism.

Conscientization for these respondents meant being able to "name their world." That is, a meaningful education had helped them to recognize and understand the impact that societal conditions and forces of oppression have on their lives and the lives of others. As Freire writes, the process of conscientization, or education for critical consciousness, "involves a constant clarification of what remains hidden within us while we move about in the world," and it provokes "recognition of the world, not as a 'given' world, but as a world dynamically 'in the making."²⁴ Such recognition often inspires people to work against that oppression, thus beginning their active efforts to transform the world.²⁵ Naming the world was an important step toward actively changing it.

Conscientization as Social Process - Breaking Isolation

While the respondents identified "relevant" information as a key to their development, exposure to information on racism and Asian Americans is not the only element of an education for critical consciousness. The interviews reveal that conscientization is a social process, where connections, support and encouragement from others play a critical facilitative role. For many respondents, the development of their critical consciousness had not happened in isolation, working or studying on their own. [End Page 67] Instead, relationships with other people had contributed to their growth in a variety of ways.

First, contact and conversation with others had helped respondents to break a sense of isolation in their lives. The chance to talk to other Asians about their lives and experiences with discrimination had helped respondents to see that their individual experiences were not unique. As they had seen similarities and patterns, it was easier for them to see how broader forces, like racism, shaped their individual lives. Their descriptions of this process were quite consistent and similar.

Joe Yamamoto, a third-generation Japanese American, had grown up in central California. In high school, Joe had liked to party and had come close to not graduating. After working a series of jobs, he had decided to head back into school, first at a community college and then at a University of California campus, to pursue his interest in math. Joe had not identified as a Japanese American. He had been aware that things happened to him, perhaps because he was Japanese, but did not make any connections to racial discrimination.

At the University of California, Joe had enrolled in an Asian American Studies course, mainly because it fulfilled a general education requirement. During the class, interactions with fellow Asian students, along with information on racism against Asians in the United States, had led Joe to realize, for the first time, that he was treated differently because of his race. Describing an in-class interactive activity where students were put in pairs and asked to interview each other about their lives, Joe articulated this process of self-discovery:

We found a lot of similarities between ourselves. . . . That was the first time I got a chance to hear other people say the exact same things that I had gone through. . . it's because I'm Asian, because I'm Japanese that I run into different kinds of experiences than my Caucasian friends do. And it's because of my race. It's not because I wear blue jeans or anything else, it's because of how I look.²⁶

Pearl Cruz's understanding of Asian American women's issues had been formed largely in conversation with other women in an Asian American Studies class: [End Page 68]

It was like therapy, group therapy to sit around and swap stories about when I was growing up. So that was great, sharing things that everybody had experienced and thought they were the only ones who had experienced.²⁷

Soon Park had developed a stronger understanding of racism through her interactions with others in an Asian American student organization. I asked her what it was about being in the student group or being in classes that had helped her to develop a commitment to working in the Asian American community, Soon offered the following response:

I think more understanding how other Asians have the same experiences as I do, and I'm not the only one. I remember going to one of my first meetings and there's maybe 10 people, and it was more like a rap session. I remember people talking about their experiences about racism, what happened to them and thinking that's really awful. I can't believe that's happened to that person and thinking all these things happened to me. We're all in the situation where we all share this common kind of pain and experience.²⁸

In the context of American society, it is understandable how breaking through the sense of isolation can facilitate the development of critical consciousness. Isolation is closely tied to the powerful ideological emphasis on individualism in the United States. Andrew Barlow notes that Americans "are told that their well-being is up to them, that people must fend for themselves as far as their personal welfare is concerned."²⁹ A consequence of growing up with this view is implicit in the interviews. Respondents had interpreted their experiences, good and bad, through individual lenses, as events that happened, in isolation, only to them. Through interactions with other Asian Americans, they had realized they were not alone, that others had similar family and cultural experiences, and experiences with racial discrimination. This discovery had led them to question their individualistic interpretations and had opened the possibility that their lives could be understood as part of an Asian American experience.

Non-Judgmental Support

Connections with others not only helped respondents to break through isolation, but also provided important support for conscientization. [End Page 69] Supportive non-judgmental relationships with friends, mentors, and professors had played a critical role in facilitating conscientization. They had minimized risks and had given respondents permission to try on new ideas and identities. The chance to talk openly with someone who listened and communicated that they understood the stories had been vital for respondents. With support, they had been able to raise questions, express doubts, and process information they received.

Cheryl Hamada, for example, had thrived in an Asian Pacific Islander student group. The chance to open up with others, and to have others open up to her, had created a safe environment that had a powerful effect:

They were willing to talk to you, listen to you, give you advice, listen to your problems. That really appealed to me. I could express my opinions and actually get out my frustration there. I like the group 'cause I can talk to them, where if I talk to my roommate, it's not the same. She's really understanding, but she doesn't understand.³⁰

For Gloria Park, living on an all-female, Asian Pacific Islander floor in a residence hall had provided a supportive environment that allowed her to get close with other Asians and explore the new ideas she often developed in classes:

I wouldn't worry about keeping kim chee in my refrigerator, the smell of garlic in the halls. I spent a lot of time with the RA and another close friend of mine. Eating rice, kim chee and cuttle fish and just talking about the issues and what we're seeing and that kind of thing.³¹

Steffi Castro had found that an open, non-judgmental environment in a Filipino student group was the most important factor in her conscientization. Steffi had taken an Asian American studies course, but was turned off by what she had perceived to be close-mindedness among her fellow Asian students. She had felt that her classmates were rigidly anti-white and saw all Asians as victims. They would be impatient or critical of anyone raising other perspectives. In this context, Steffi had not spoken out and had not been open to the course material.

The Filipino student group was much more open and had allowed Steffi to learn on her own terms and at her own pace:

They didn't force me to be like them . . . That's what I valued was that they didn't pressure me. They didn't pressure me into what I didn't want to do. I think that is important. Really letting a person grow and learn.³² [End Page 70]

Soon Park talked of her conscientization in similar ways. She described herself as a very quiet student, as someone who had felt uncomfortable and terrified speaking in class. With support from her peers in an Asian American student group, however, Soon had broken through this silence and actually participated on a panel of speakers during Asian Pacific Islander Week events. When I asked how she was able to speak in a large public setting, Soon echoed Steffi Castro's experience. The fact that she was not forced to speak, but was given a choice to make the decision on her own, had proved to be empowering:

I think one of the things, in terms of my own personal experiences about breaking silence is not being forced to, but being given a choice. I think that's what is needed to be given a choice. In API week, I was given a choice whether to be a panelist and because I knew that I had that choice, I knew that I didn't have to. . . . Having encouragement, a lot of people encouraged me.³³

In looking over the impact that supportive relations had exerted on the development of critical consciousness, two points are worth emphasizing. First, support took a variety of forms but shared a common effect—helping people to feel enthusiastic, interested, and excited about learning, and to feel willing to take some risks to explore new identities and ideas. Conscientization, then, has an intellectual, cognitive element and an affective one as well, forged largely in social settings.

Second, the support that respondents received had helped them to feel connected to a larger community of people. This sense of belonging affirms Kenyon Chang's call for a broader conceptualization of "community." Moving beyond a notion of community as a geographical site, where concentrations of Asians reside, Chan argues that colleges and universities should be considered an important site for "community," since for many Asian Americans the college campus "is the first opportunity for them to interact with large numbers of Asian Americans."³⁴

Combining Elements—Praxis and Conscientization

To this point, for analytic clarity key factors contributing to conscientization have been discussed one at a time. In actuality, however, critical consciousness often had not arisen though a single course, person, or event. [End Page 71] Instead, several interlocking and reinforcing influences had combined over time to shape respondents' thinking and development. Reviewing respondents' experiences holistically reveals that conscientization had emerged when cognitive information about oppression and the Asian American experience combined with positive support to spark an interest in learning. The information and experiences had led respondents to reflect upon their lives and consider new explanatory perspectives. As students' understanding developed, a corresponding interest in taking action on behalf of Asian Americans had ensued. These actions had deepened their knowledge, had widened connections, and had given them new experiences from which to reflect and learn. Conscientization, then, was an iterative process combining new knowledge and perspectives, social action or practice, and reflection, what Freire calls "praxis."

An overview of respondents' stories of conscientization illustrates how the iterative process unfolds. Rather than a single linear formula for conscientization, the respondents combined key elements in a variety of ways. For example, Pearl Cruz's critical consciousness was first sparked by her involvement in protest actions against sexism, which inspired her to read about feminism. Her interest in feminism led her to an Asian American women's class, which fostered her interest in anti-racism. Similar elements combined to help David Tan's development, but took place in a different order. His initial interest in Asian American issues was sparked by an influential professor and by his involvement in a student organization. Later, his commitment to activism was deepened when he helped to organize statewide protests against budget cuts in higher education.

Ryan Suzuki's early understanding of oppression was developed as a resident assistant. He then formed a student organization that provided diversity training in residence halls and for student groups. Seeing the positive impact of this work, Ryan pursued a graduate degree in student affairs. There, he struggled with racism in the graduate program and in the residence halls where he worked. Meeting Ricardo Munoz was a pivotal moment. Munoz offered Ryan an internship in the Office of Multicultural Affairs, and moved him in new directions. Ryan admitted that as an undergraduate he did not put much effort into course work or into developing a strong analysis of issues. Munoz pushed Ryan to do more [End Page 72] reading. He also encouraged him to learn more about Asian American experiences. Like Gloria, Ryan's description of his development illustrates the elements of praxis:

So it was happening at once, the analysis, and seeing it all played out at the university. And then having the position where I had to respond to it. It was Freire at its finest. You know, it was intellectual and practical, and all that at the same time.³⁵

Jennie Fong's story follows the common line of her peers. The one distinguishing feature of Jennie's conscientization is that it had happened in a setting relatively devoid of Asians. Jennie had grown up in the Midwest in predominantly white neighborhoods. She had attended to a large state university in the Midwest, where there were few Asian students and no established Asian American Studies courses. A decision to live in an alternative living-learning residence hall had been fortuitous. One of the experimental courses offered in connection with the residence hall was on Asian Americans. Jennie had done some "important learning" in this class. Later, the Midwest Asian American Student Union had held a conference on another campus, which Jennie attended. Contact with other Asian American student activists was inspiring, and Jennie had returned to her campus and helped to develop events for Asian American Heritage Month. Later, she had become a resident advisor on a multi-racial women's hall, an experience which had helped to broaden her understanding of race relations. All of these activities had led Jennie to alter her goals, shifting away from an interest in medicine to a pursuit of graduate degrees in Asian American Studies and history.

Gloria Park's critical consciousness had first been sparked on her Asian women's residence floor. An introductory course on feminism had generated a profound impact on her. In that course she had written poems and stories about her family, which had enabled her "to make a connection between the materials and issues in class, with the larger perspective of what's going on with the world or in my life." She later helped to put on events for the Asian Pacific Heritage month, which honed her organizing skills.

Gloria captures the interlocking, iterative process of conscientization that applies to many of her peers in the following quote: [End Page 73]

Yeah, the whole holistic education thing. I had the classes to contextualize real life. I had the living environment that was supportive, and then I became active in an Asian Pacific Islander student group that gave me the space to empower myself and to feel like I could do something about what I was learning. From there it just snowballed. I became active in a statewide student group and got involved in on-campus organizing and programming.³⁶

Conclusion and Implications

Given the profound change that conscientization had effected in the lives of respondents, it is not surprising that many of them wanted to be in positions where they could help to create for others the educational experiences that were so meaningful to them. They took leadership positions in student organizations; they helped to organize and put on educational programs; they worked in community organizations; they pursued graduate studies; and they took positions in student affairs to work closely with new cohorts of Asian American students. Pamela Kim, who wanted to become a professor of Asian American studies, best expresses their desire:

One of the reasons why I want to be a professor of Asian American Studies is because I want to help these kids who are going through the same things that I did. I want to help them figure things out, to help educate them about these issues because I had no idea about them while I was growing up. I could see what these kids are all going through in college, and it helps to be where you can pop those bubbles that they have around themselves.³⁷

As they go about the task of trying to replenish the ranks by raising critical consciousness amongst new groups of Asians, a number of lessons learned from their collective experiences may provide helpful guides. From the interviews, we can identify critical elements that contribute to conscientization. While these elements do not guarantee that conscientization will follow, incorporating them into one's practice may enhance the possibility that efforts will be successful.

First, respondents described the importance of obtaining information and conceptual tools that helped them to cognitively understand how their lives and the lives of others are shaped by larger historical and social-structural [End Page 74] forces. An Asian American Studies course on a college campus was the most common source of relevant information, but as we have seen exposure can take place in many venues. People can learn from reading on their own, from student groups, and from multimedia sources.

Second, breaking through isolation and interrupting the tendency to explain their life experiences solely in individual terms reflects a social dimension to conscientization. Contact and conversation with other Asian Americans was often the most effective way to help respondents make connections between their lives, the experiences of others, and information on the Asian American experience. Connections to key mentors and peers provided a safe environment in which to think and question further.

Third, respondents described important affective aspects of conscientization. When respondents talked about important moments in their education or key social support that made a difference, invariably they referred to how they felt about these experiences. They were angered by the realization that their schooling had not taught them about racism or the Asian American experience. They felt inspired by the experiences of other Asian Americans who struggled to overcome harsh conditions. They were excited to learn more.

Fourth, respondents' commitment to Asian American issues was deepened when they transformed understanding into action. Involvement in protests, organizing, programming, teaching, and research gave respondents a chance to extend their knowledge and learn from efforts to make change.

Finally, the study indicates that conscientization occurs when the discrete elements work in combination. No respondent described his or her conscientization in terms of a single element. It was not a purely intellectual or cognitive experience in a classroom, absent of social or affective elements. Nor was it a purely social or affective experience without information and conceptual tools. Instead, respondents described multifaceted and interrelated experiences that reinforced each other, inspiring further thinking and commitment to action.

For activists seeking to raise the critical consciousness of Asian Americans, the study's findings carry implications for practice. For some, combining elements in a single venue, like an introductory course or a [End Page 75] training program, will be the main focus. In these cases, the study suggests that the course or program should offer substantive content and concepts to lay the cognitive foundation needed for people to see themselves in relation to the world. It also should include social activities to break isolation and opportunities for people to share stories with each other in a non-judgmental, safe environment.

On a broader level, the study suggests that there is a value in and need to offer a range of experiences across campus and community to increase the likelihood that students will combine, on their own, elements that contribute to conscientization. Pressure to have one person, course, or program that single-handedly transforms students' lives subsides when we recognize that the interrelated process of conscientization benefits from contributions across diverse segments of the community.

The importance of combining influences also casts new light on how different parts of the campus and community can work collaboratively to raise critical consciousness. Breaking from binary constructions that often pit academic programs against student life activities, or divide academe from community, the study shows how conscientization arises when people are exposed to and combine lessons learned from a variety of sources. This process implies that increased appreciation for the work done across campus and community, along with greater coordination of influences, is an important dimension of conscientization. [End Page 76]