By Anthony Youn
My son used to be Kobe Bryant. But lately when we play hoops, he's Jeremy Lin. As an Asian-American former backyard hoop star, I whisper, ``Thank you ― and it's about time."
When I was my son's age, I used to be Michael Jordan because he was the best. My Tiger Dad trained me to strive for excellence, even in sports, where Asians in America didn't excel. We had nobody to look up to. After all, Asian Americans represent only 4.8 percent of the U.S. population.
Now my son has Lin to admire. And even though it's too soon to identify a signature move, the young Knicks' point guard has plenty of style. He's cool, measured and smart. He's modest and fearless. He's a man of faith, plays well with others and puts his team first. Add all these qualities, and you have a fairly standard Asian-American stereotype.
When I consider Lin's incredible rise, I wonder whether being Asian ― and the old, negative stereotypes ― at first worked against him. He's smart, but few NBA players graduated from Harvard. Yao Ming excepted, Asians aren't often tall or physical enough to play pro basketball. And, of course, Lin's too quiet; too shy.
I grew up underneath the Bamboo Ceiling, a barrier that keeps Asian Americans from reaching the pinnacle of success in anything other than traditional professional careers such as medicine, dentistry and engineering. It has to do with how we were raised as children. We were brought up by our Tiger Parents to work hard, do well in school, respect our elders and not to question authority. In order to reach the upper echelon of most fields, however, other ``non-Asian" traits are typically necessary: networking, risk-taking, leadership and aggressiveness.
With Lin, Asian Americans have found a role model who combines both the traditional Asian values of our parents with the Western traits needed to excel. He is the sports hero we've been patiently waiting for. And maybe ― just maybe ― ``Linsanity" will make other corporate executives, and leaders in their industries, take a second look at an Asian American for a leading role, as the Knicks did with Jeremy.
Back in our driveway, I pass the ball to my son and watch him try a crossover dribble. He giggles as the ball bangs off his leg and rolls to me. I pick it up, step back, let it fly and shout, ``It's Lin for the win!" Swish.
Felt sweet and true the moment the ball left my hand.
Anthony Youn is author of ``In Stitches, about growing up Asian American and becoming a doctor.” He contributed this article to USA Today.
