Chanel is an International Relations professional with a Masters of Science in International Development Management. She studied Social welfare at the University of California, Berkeley. She is an Indonesian immigrant and was raised in the sub rural parts of Jakarta and suburbs of Los Angeles. She is the Co-Founder of SEAT, a mentor to first generation young girls, and is currently based in Washington, DC.
Chanel talks to us about being first-generation in America and in higher education, navigating her way to become a U.S. Citizen, facing financial, cultural, and social barriers in school as an immigrant, and dispelling the imposter syndrome. Read her full story below.
How do you identify yourself (ethnically or cultural)?
I am Chanel Adikuono. I identify myself as an immigrant and an Indonesian-American. I was born and raised in a sub-rural community of Jakarta, Indonesia until I was nine-years old. My immediate family and I immigrated to the suburbs of Southern California in the 1990s in the midst of the 1998 Anti-Chinese riot. I am a sister, and an aunt to a multicultural niece. I also identify as an American as I renounced my Indonesian citizenship to be naturalized as a US Citizen in college.
I went through the logistical hoops of the US naturalization process on my own with the guidance of my two older siblings who went before me. The naturalization process consists of three steps: 1) taking a multiple choice test on US History 2) verbal and written test of the basic English language and 3) swearing in. The process was comical to me -not the paperwork and how expensive it was. I remember having to learn things like the original thirteen colonies and memorizing all of the Presidents of the United States up until that year I took the test. Despite being a college student at UC Berkeley, US History was not my strong suit. The comical aspect was during the interview portion of the test they asked me to verbalize and write a basic English sentence, “This tree is green”. I thought that having been admitted to one of the best Universities in the world was enough of a testament to my English proficiency but here I was having to further prove my abilities (a familiar feeling many brown people have, to be ten times better to be taken seriously).
" Especially in the uptick of Anti-AAPI hate, it’s been a piercing reminder regardless of how much I contribute and give to this country apparently I will always have an invisible stamp written on my forehead as a perpetual foreigner."
Eventually I reached the last part of the process. I watched a patriotic video on being a US citizen, swearing to the pledge of allegiance with my right hand raised to state, “I do” to take an oath in being a good US citizen. I felt like a foreigner up until that point. I was finally able to proudly say, “I am an American”. I felt I was officially an American who did not have to worry about my irrational fear of being deported or my scholarships taken away. Especially in the uptick of Anti-AAPI hate, it’s been a piercing reminder regardless of how much I contribute and give to this country apparently I will always have an invisible stamp written on my forehead as a perpetual foreigner.
When you were growing up, what did you want (or still wish) to be?
I still feel like I am growing, because in my formative and developmental years, we were focused on immigrating, transitioning to a new culture and surviving. I think my earliest memory of what I wanted to be before deciding to go to college was to be an artist. I have always loved to dance, paint, draw and write. I am a natural artist at heart. In conjunction with applying to a handful of white ivory tower Universities, I also applied to Art Universities, which I was accepted into. However, I suppressed that desire of being an artist because it was not a normative profession in my traditional and Western idealistic household of being a Doctor, Lawyer or Engineer. Additionally, I was not necessarily encouraged or fostered in my artistic pursuits by my parents because that is a world they are unfamiliar and lack understanding in.
My parents grew up poor and sacrificed their entire culture and community in Jakarta for me to receive a quality education in the U.S. I felt an obligation to do something “practical” that brought me financial security, status, and stability. Thus, I forgoed an Art University and attended UC Berkeley. I also realized now, going to Art school meant taking the risk of taking on huge debt. At the time they rarely offered scholarships to applicants such as myself. It seemed to only privileged western students who had legacy money from generational wealth who can pursue art. Later on in life, I also realized that the art and museum industry is still very much a white man’s world. I find this ironic given art is gendered towards being “feminine” and we grew up being socialized that being artistic is a “girly” thing.
"My parents grew up poor and sacrificed their entire culture and community in Jakarta for me to receive a quality education in the U.S. I felt an obligation to do something 'practical' that brought me financial security, status, and stability."
On the other hand, I received 80% funding to attend UC Berkeley from a combination of Pell Grant, work-study, and working a part-time job. At UC Berkeley, I changed my major about five times. I thought I wanted to be pre-business until I saw the toxic culture of privileged rich Asian and White students weeding each other out in a packed lecture hall of 400 people. I remember I had an East Asian floor mate who went to a fancy rich Silicon Valley High School that had a robotics program and ignorantly asked me, “What sets you up to be a competitive applicant to get into Haas (at Berkeley you have to re-apply to declare a Business major)?” He proceeds to ramble his long list of leadership roles he racked up. I was confused and perplexed by his question and privileged background to gain all of that experience. It was at that moment I felt an identity crisis that although I appeared AANHPI like himself, I was not cut from the same cloth. I then pivoted to Psychology which was also a capped major. For a brief minute I thought about Architecture because my freshman roommate majored in it. I lived vicariously through her and would go to the studio and watch her. That desire dissolved quickly when I was imagining how to explain to my parents what an architecture career would look like. I also couldn’t think of any successful immigrant SEAA Architectures, and picturing my parents' disapproving reaction really washed away my pursuit of Architecture and, frankly, art all together. Finally, I chose Social Welfare because it was a
non-capped and interdisciplinary major. I was able to mix and match my courses in Psychology, International Relations and Social Welfare to get my degree. I gave myself grace because my goal was to enjoy college and not to be sleep-deprived, stressed out, and on the edge of emotional breakdowns (which was a problem and still a problem of students with mental health crises due to unrealistic pressures Berkeley brought).
By the end of my Bachelors degree journey, it took a recession to hit in 2011 to make me realize, “What is practical anyways?”, and now we are in a pandemic, I am thinking to myself, “If I die tomorrow, I don’t want to regret not doing what I’ve always felt a calling to do- that is to express myself, be creative, and to tell my story” so that others may learn from my mistakes and to not doubt themselves to do what they are truly called to do. It’s easier said than done but I am telling you now, this is your one life.
"Some days I resent myself for my long years of struggle with imposter syndrome when I show a few handful of people my artwork and receive positive affirmation. However, I have forgiven myself for not believing in me to be a successful artist through seeking mental health support and volunteering in arts based projects."
I take solace in finding outlets to foster my inner artist in my day-to-day life. I express myself through clothing, music, travel photography, and adult dance classes when I have the chance outside of my 9-5 job. My first adult job out of undergrad was in Brand Marketing for an alcoholic and beverage company. Through that I was also able to channel my creative side in providing creative direction to graphic designers to design various wine product lines. I also self-taught myself how to use Final Cut Pro, Photoshop, web content development/ design, and photography when I was gifted a DSLR Canon camera for my twenty-fourth birthday. Some days I resent myself for my long years of struggle with imposter syndrome when I show a few handful of people my artwork and receive positive affirmation. However, I have forgiven myself for not believing in me to be a successful artist through seeking mental health support and volunteering in arts based projects. I also almost defeated my own internal demon during my last year of college. I was accepted to be an intern at The Smithsonian Institution with their Education Outreach office. Due to hiring freezes, when I had hoped to land a full-time position, that journey took a pause. Although, I am happy now that I am creating this photography-based storytelling community organization with my Co-Founder, Faye. I also utilize my creativity in designing learning trainings, gender projects; and communications and marketing materials for my current role as a Gender Champion and Activity Manager in the international development field as a federal contractor.
What social, economic/financial or cultural barriers did you encounter? And how did you overcome them (if at all)?
I was not aware of the term “barriers” until college. Because I thought all of the things I faced were just life experiences and everyone experienced varying degrees of obstacles and pain the way that I did. I saw my barriers simply as life lessons that everyone went through. It was a crude awakening when I took an Ethnic Studies course at UC Berkeley what I had faced were systemic barriers and were by design.
"I felt robbed of a resourceful and healthy development years and all of the thoughts flooded into my mind..."
I remember reading theories and terminologies on systemic racism and barriers and my jaw dropped. I felt a mixture of feelings. I felt like my inner little girl broke down and curled up into a ball in a corner of a very dark room. I felt robbed of a resourceful and healthy development years and all of the thoughts flooded into my mind, “What if I had the basic resources that the average white American child was afforded?”, “What if I had parents who saved up college funds for me?”, “What if my parents weren’t so busy hustling to start over and were involved in my educational endeavors?”. Actually, in fact, I remember in my Summer Bridge Program (a specific program to serve underserved BIPOC and athlete students who come from low-ranked high schools and marginalized communities such as myself to prepare for the rigor of Berkeley), I remember having a nervous breakdown and was in tears in the hallway of my dorms after a couple of long all-nighters to pass exams to ensure my undergrad admission wasn’t rescinded. I remember a fellow SEAA Resident Assistant, Meng So, sat with me on the floor consoling me and reminding me that I belonged here, that my admission to UC Berkeley was not a mistake. I wanted to quit that night but it was him being there giving me a pep talk and providing me resources to counselors that helped me be OK. Now look at me Ma, I got degree(s)!
Lets see, here are some examples of barriers I faced:
Social: I did not have my own space and privacy to fully concentrate growing up. Both in Jakarta and in SoCal I was crammed in a two-bedroom low-income apartment with my two siblings and parents. I wondered how most of my classmates in high school by the age of sixteen were able to get their driver's license and get access to a car while I was suppressed by my patriarchal dad and was not allowed to drive because he believed girls shouldn’t stay out past certain hours. I had to come back home to help with house chores and build his dream. I learned later on that all of my fellow Cal students' perfect SAT scores were a result of them having access and money to private testing tutors, while here I was in a high school with poor education counselors who never told me that was a prerequisite to applying to college.
"I was for the most part of grade school very quiet because I didn’t want anyone to know what was going on at home. It was only until high school when I learned to ask and speak up that I was functioning under a very different financial situation."
Economic/Financial: Being an immigrant family starting off from scratch, my parents had to start over with barely a few hundred dollars in their bank account. My parents did their best to give us the basic necessities. A roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and food on the table. Although, explaining to my friends why I couldn't go to the movie theaters, take that field trip to Catalina island, or eat out on a weekly basis was difficult. I was for the most part of grade school very quiet because I didn’t want anyone to know what was going on at home. It was only until high school when I learned to ask and speak up that I was functioning under a very different financial situation. My real friends didn’t judge me and they did their best to help me whether it was giving me rides to and from school or taking me to extracurricular activities. They also did their best to think of activities that were free.
Financial barriers were also the reason why I couldn't fully pursue dancing, although I was taking dance classes my family could only afford $30/month for one class a week. Whereas, my other financially-able friends took unlimited classes for about $120+/month to pay for competition fees, costumes, transport, hotel and many expenses that went into attending competitions. This was the difference to get the frequent practice to become a great dancer. Yet at the time I internalized I was a bad dancer, and everyone else was talented- when it turned out I did not have the privileges to practice. What if, right? When I turned sixteen and could apply to get a part-time job, I worked at the nearest fast food restaurant I could walk to at Deltaco.
"Due to figuring it out for myself and navigating these barriers I faced; I became passionate and focused in supporting and empowering girls like myself."
Cultural: When I moved here in the 4th grade, I was an English as a Second Language (ESL) student. I juggled both transitioning to the American social norms, fashion, and culture while learning to read, write, and speak fluent English but then coming home to my Oma and Opa (grandparents) or parents to speak Indonesian. At the time, I didn’t realize I was teetering two worlds. I also grew up in a predominantly Mexican community where my friends' houses I went to spoke another language as well. I am grateful for the community I grew up in because we faced similar barriers but I always carry this duality and code switching in my personal versus professional life. Lastly, mental health is not a concept that is big in the Indonesian community, at least not in the 1990s. I thought therapy was being medicated by a psychotherapist- there’s also nothing wrong with that- but for me, I was a teenager and neither my siblings or parents knew what therapy was and the value it provides. Honestly, I don’t even think we had good insurance enough to get therapy. I started therapy in middle school during a bad depressive episode I had. Now, I go regularly because it’s a mental tune-up for me to word vomit the bad, good, and mundane of life. It’s not any different than getting an annual physical.
Due to figuring it out for myself and navigating these barriers I faced; I became passionate and focused in supporting and empowering girls like myself. Who grew up first generation immigrants with parents who face language barriers who are unable to navigate the US education system. Thus, I want to help AANHPI immigrant girls everywhere avoid struggling the way I did. Throughout my adult career, in addition to my full-time job, after work I mentored young girls for YWCA and AALEAD to help them with life skills and help them find resources they would not otherwise be aware of. In one of my undergraduate fellowships, I became a Youth Counselor for the Y-Scholars Program, which prepares first generation immigrants for college. My focus both in undergrad and graduate school have always been in representing BIPOC youth.
What resources or role models/ representation did you wish you had growing up?
I wish there were mainstream Southeast Asian American professional dancers of any gender whether in ballet, hip-hop or lyrical. I think to this day I am still unable to name a Principle Southeast Asian American professional dancer, not even an East Asian Principle dancer. I had imagined going to Juilliard in high school, but I could not figure out why I felt this was unattainable. It is because I didn’t have an image of what an AAPI Juilliard dancer looked like. I remembered both in my dance classes and on their website seeing solely a sea of white ballet dancers. It could have been subconscious and I excluded myself in that process.
I also wished there were anyone in my periphery whether in my community or in college to see a SEAA artist-painter? Musician? Was it my fault for not seeking that out at UC Berkeley, I mean it shouldn’t be that difficult, right? Because white people don’t have to struggle to think of [insert any profession] in high ranking positions.
"Because of her, she is a role model to me that you can achieve most things in life and it's never too late as long as you have determination and perseverance. "
On the other hand, in a non-traditional Hollywood way, I would be remiss if I did not say my Mom, older sister and older brother are my role models. My Mom was a stay at home Mom in Jakarta occasionally taking on odd jobs. She did not know how to drive a car. But when we arrived in the US, she said at her ripe age of mid-40s, she will reach her dream to be in the medical field. She, with her broken english, went to adult school at the Red Cross to get her CNA. Then she made her way up as a LVN and now she’s a Psych Tech for the State of California. She beasted her way out of poverty, and learned how to drive in her mid-50s. She is a testament that you can achieve most things in life and it's never too late as long as you have determination and perseverance. My siblings taught me different things about life, from thinking about applying to scholarships, FAFSA to many other life skills. I am proud of us and despite it all we moved onwards.
What would you say to young girls and women such as yourself that you wish you heard growing up?
Bet and believe in yourself. Life is not linear and it’s OK if you don’t go from point A-Z. Life is not a marathon but a journey and taking a few detours will only build your character. I had heard this phrase of “bet and believe in yourself” in high school, but I didn’t really internalize this until five years ago. I felt in college, I believed in myself because I was passing my classes and getting my degree. I then realized in some moments I held myself as a result of my overthinking and perfectionist tendencies -- such as forgoing to go to art school or hitting on that guy I wanted to date.
"...the more you try to control life, the more life slips right through your fingers. Take it one step at a time and figure it out along the way. Progress is better than perfection. "
I was always trying to plan and control my life, ploying to get ahead of what’s next in the stage of life. Society tells us, especially for women, to go get degrees, marry and have babies, right? That only led to disappointing myself for fulfilling others people expectations of me and settling for “enough”. I say I am a recovering perfectionist and I understand now the term “[The higher being] laughs at plans” because the more you try to control life, the more life slips right through your fingers. Take it one step at a time and figure it out along the way. Progress is better than perfection.
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