Unlike many, I didn't grow up watching TV. I didn't know who Hannah Montana was because my mom thought Disney would make me naive, and I never watched Spongebob because it apparently kills brain cells. The television in our living room mostly just gathered dust, but we kept it for show. But I never put much thought into my lack of television; I had books and math and occasional bouts of The Lion King to keep me busy and happy.

But by the time I hit fifth grade, I knew everybody watched TV or some type of show on some medium. They acted like their favorite TV characters, speculated about plot lines, quoted their favorite flaming comebacks. I was beginning to feel left out. So, after I finished my homework everyday, I would turn on the television for a while. I didn't realize anything strange until maybe the second week. By the end of the month, I was tallying the number of Asians I saw. Everytime I saw an Asian in a commercial or as an extra or a waitress or even a small speaking part, I would squeal and yell for my brother to come watch our people on TV. But as I got older, my excitement for Asians on television waned. I still took tallies, but now I didn't count the ones that played stereotypical nerds and math geniuses and cheap Chinese restaurant owners. The number was unsurprisingly low.

The same went for music. Just at my middle school, there were dozens of musically-talented Asians, and not just in piano or violin. There were a few that were exceptional singers. But while their white counterparts could dream of becoming the next Britney Spears or Selena Gomez, the Asians knew better. None of us could name even one successful Asian artist in America.

I was disappointed, but by then I had accepted the fact that Hollywood just wasn't really a place for minorities. By that time, I had also started to like television and American music, so it did hurt that I never saw people like me on the screen. So, to compensate, I got into Korean music, or Kpop.

Now, I should reiterate that I'm not Korean, I'm Chinese, but the Chinese music scene being stuck in the 90's at the time, the flashy, colorful Korean atmosphere full of people who looked and acted like me welcomed me with open arms. The Kpop industry is much more fan-focused than the American one, with artists specifically marketed to cater to their fanbase, so as a 12 year-old Asian girl, I was the direct target. And boy, did I get sucked in. I fell in love with the beautiful, talented "idols" that were powerful onstage and cute offstage. Finally I had found a place where I felt represented.

I couldn't escape Kpop--I still can't. I'm still in love with so many groups: Blackpink, BIGBANG, Red Velvet, EXID, I.O.I, EXO, which by the way, you should check out if you're interested in unique music. But the most important group for me has been BTS. I think it was their story that appealed to me the most: the underdogs from an unknown company who worked hard to write their own music and become international stars while also being incredibly talented, down-to-earth, sweet, and humble. Their music is wonderfully produced, promoting self-love and mental health, and I could think of no other artist who deserved the American Music Award invitation more.

BTS is truly an international artist, with fans around the world and their latest single, DNA, peaking in the Top 10 in the Billboard Hot 100. So when they got invited to the AMAs, I was beyond excited. When they walked on stage, I screamed my head off, not just because my favorite artists were on TV, but that they were on American TV. They, 7 Asian boys, were on American television surrounded by other celebrities. They were performing the role of attractive, talented Asian men singing in their native language rather than just bad drivers or nerds. This was a broadcast shown through all of America, showing Asians as something other than a stereotype. I cried, not for the presence of my idols, but for the significance of those four fleeting minutes. Those minutes were, in my opinion, truly revolutionary.

But it is not enough. Yes, BTS performing at the American Music Awards brought forth something new, but it was just one show, just four minutes that showed the strong, sexy side of Asians. But Asians are just like all other people. We have different personalities, too. How long do I have to wait for a fully developed Asian character, with all the personality traits of an actual person rather than focusing on the academic part? When can I watch a sensitive Asian, or an athletic Asian, or even an antagonist Asian who isn't a kung fu master? Will that time be here in time for me to see? Will my kids be able to grow up having role models in the media? Or will they have to resign to more cheap doctors and snooty nerds?

I pray that someday, mainstream media will allow people like me to have a personality, to have feelings and hurts and real interactions. I pray we will be allowed to be human.