How the Model Minority Myth is Killing Asian American Men
Journalist Prachi Gupta’s memoir reckons with loss, identity, and the systemic pressures that define—and often destroy—Asian American lives.
In her searing and deeply personal 2023 memoir They Called Us Exceptional, New York-based journalist Prachi Gupta takes aim at one of the most insidious narratives imposed on Asian American families: the model minority myth.
Through the lens of personal tragedy and political consciousness, Gupta dismantles the lie that Asian Americans must be high-achieving and self-sufficient in order to be accepted, and creates an essential tome for those growing up in the shadow of the myth. Which, she argues, is not just a stereotype, but a weapon. And it’s one that played a devastating role in her own family.
Gupta’s brother, Yash, died in 2017 from complications following an elective leg-lengthening procedure. At the time, she was a senior reporter at Jezebel, covering the Trump administration and the rising tide of far-right nationalism. But personally, she was in a tailspin—estranged from her brother for two years, grieving deeply and struggling to understand how they had drifted apart and why he made the decision he did. As she began investigating the circumstances around his death, she also began uncovering the larger societal and familial forces that shaped his choices and their shared upbringing.
“I really needed to understand why he did that, and what those few inches of added height meant to him emotionally,” she said. “What I uncovered was this whole conversation about identity, mental health and how Asian American men are put in this box under white supremacy and capitalism. That's a conversation that we're seeing play out on the national level in America. I began to make connections about his life and our relationship to these broader political systems, and realized we were contending with forces that were set in motion long before either of us was born.”
What Gupta is referring to is the model minority myth—a framework that supposedly celebrates Asian Americans for their hard work and success, while quietly erasing the emotional, psychological and social costs of that very success. It is, as Gupta puts it, a system that rewards silence, perfectionism and obedience while punishing vulnerability and difference.
“There’s a perception that we don’t have mental health issues,” Gupta said, referring to the Asian community. “Part of that is because of the myth. There are limited resources in our community and a lot of stigma. And mental health itself has often been used as a tool of assimilation and colonization.”
They Called Us Exceptional makes clear that the damage isn’t theoretical. The memoir traces how the myth manifests in Gupta’s own life: in the expectations she felt as a South Asian daughter, in her relationship with her brother and in her family’s silence around grief, masculinity and mental illness. At its heart, the book is a call to break those silences—not just personally, but politically. For the journalist-turned-author, it was “a huge undertaking, and a very emotional and intensely personal thing,” but she felt compelled to write it.
She added, “It felt like I had no choice. It felt that urgent, that important and necessary.” It was also a way for her to process her grief. And by focusing on the truth rather than writing, say, a novel, Gupta was able to ensure readers couldn’t turn away.
“There’s a perception that [Asians] don’t have mental health issues. Part of that is because of the [model minority] myth. There are limited resources in our community and a lot of stigma. And mental health itself has often been used as a tool of assimilation and colonization.”
Gupta doesn’t shy away from naming the broader structures at play either: capitalism, patriarchy, white supremacy.
“[In the West,] we're taught that problems are hyper-individual—that everything is your own problem to solve,” she said. “But there’s power in realizing that these are systemic forces. Once you see that, you stop seeing yourself as a failure and start seeing the ways you’ve been failed. You realize that it's a collective problem that we can all work together to change, and I find that very empowering.”
Her approach is notably different from academic or policy critiques of the model minority myth. Gupta's story shows, rather than tells, how societal stereotypes alter lives and families from the inside out.
“It’s not anti-your-culture to challenge these things,” she said, recalling how difficult it was to write about family estrangement, especially in a South Asian context. “Family is everything, and we’re taught to protect that at all costs. But my [Indian American] therapist reminded me that this idea of putting family above all else, it's not inherently Indian. It’s a warped ideal.”
Her dadaji (paternal grandfather) proved to be one of the most surprising sources of strength. “He was traditional in many ways,” she said, “but he told me, ‘If you don’t tell your full story, you won’t have any teeth.’ That gave me permission. I didn’t feel like I was going against my culture, I was expanding it.”
The book has resonated widely since it was published. Gupta has heard from Asian American men who saw themselves in Yash’s struggles and realized they were following the same path, from parents who realized the emotional distances within their families, and from sisters inspired to approach their brothers with greater compassion (including this writer!). Its impact speaks to the vacuum it fills.
While Gupta is aware that she has had professional success and been raised with certain privileges, she notes she hasn’t fully escaped the myth’s grasp herself.
“I still struggle with perfectionism,” she says. “I put immense pressure on myself. And I know that some of the very traits that helped me succeed are rooted in the same ideology I critique. That’s the trap, that’s the complexity.”
If anything, Gupta wants her readers to know that liberation from the model minority myth isn’t about rejecting ambition or success; it’s about choosing to be whole rather than perfect. And it's about giving ourselves—and each other—permission to be fully human and deeply consider the ideals we project each day.
“We’re taught to hide our most authentic selves in service of this myth that eats us alive,” she says. “Politically, we're in this moment where Indian Americans are gaining a lot of political power, and I think we're seeing right now how that power can be used for positive or for negative change, and unless we reckon with the model minority myth and really understand who it serves and why people buy into it and what it takes to opt out, I'm worried that, under the guise of diversity and increasing representation, we're actually furthering discrimination and harm. Because the question that's really important is, what do you represent?”