People come from all over to chase the renowned American dream, but few ever stop to consider what that journey would yield. For some, it is the deterioration of their mental health. For others, it is the lost opportunity to see their family. For me, however, and millions of other Asian-Americans it was our culture that was deemed secondary to economic success. From not speaking my “mother-tongue” to being unaware of my own holidays, being “white-washed” is simultaneously praised by society and condemned by my own people. No one wants to be the “token-Asian”, but the way Asians are valued is through their material contributions. To survive, I had to connect with the stereotypes that suffocate my community. To survive I had to betray my sense of self. Being Asain is more complicated than just knowing my own culture. To me, it is finding a way to connect with my people in an environment that values the opposite. This poem follows my journey and yearning for connection through one commodity of which all Asians are known for: instant ramen noodles.