Written by Simu Liu
Photography by Brett Ida at Idamagine
Styled by Ashley Galang
Interviewed by Jennifer J. Lau

Harbin & Canada

I want to begin with my name, Simu. It was given to me by my parents and the two characters mean thoughtfulness and envy. ‘Envy’, I interpret from the perspective that my parents left for Canada for graduate studies and had to leave me in the care of my grandparents. As a result, it was I who grew envious of other children who still had their parents around. I used to badly want to change my name, but I'm very glad I didn't. Today, it serves as a sombre reminder of the sacrifices my parents made in coming to Canada.

In Harbin, I have only the best memories of growing up as a little kid. What I loved to do more than anything else was go shopping with my grandparents. Nothing made me more excited than picking out a new book and grabbing a popsicle, then having my grandma read to me while I made a mess of my frozen dessert. We lived humbly but happily. 

From as far back as I could remember, my grandparents told me that one day I would get to go to Canada to be with my parents, and life would be so amazing there. I wanted to meet my parents, but I also loved my grandma and grandpa and never wanted to be separated from them. If you had given me a choice, I probably would have stayed with them.

Still, knowing everything my parents went through and the odds they defied in coming to Canada gives me the courage to dare greatly. They lived through the Cultural Revolution in China and immigrated at a time when leaving the country was not as simple as buying a plane ticket. Because of their hard work and perseverance, I enjoyed all of the benefits and privileges of growing up in Canada. I owe a debt to them that I can't ever begin to repay, but I recently signed a deal with HarperCollins Canada to write the story of our family. My hope is that our story will resonate across all immigrant families in Canada and beyond. 

Making Up for Lost Time

I felt directionless for so many years of my life, making decisions not because of what I wanted but because of what was deemed responsible. Once I finally figured out what my passion was, I felt like a late bloomer. Much of my drive in the acting industry stems from feeling perpetually behind and trying to play a game of catch-up. And I wouldn't say that I was naturally gifted at acting. I just had a dream and put myself into as many situations as possible to achieve opportunities, whether that was doing films for on-set experience (meaning no pay) or constantly attending classes. I am so fortunate to be in an industry where going to work is actually the coolest part of my day. I work hard because I'm living my dream life and there's nothing I would rather be doing than working.

If I had a million dollars, I would probably use it to help incubate other Asian Canadian/American storytellers who have not had the same opportunities to succeed in the industry. My lived experience is only a small part of the entire cultural mosaic of the Asian diaspora in North America. In what I would term “diversity squared,” there needs to be a greater level of diversity even within our diverse stories.

The Future of Breaking Bamboo Ceilings

I was very blessed to have an opportunity to perform in my mother tongue in Blood and Water and I was surprised at how natural the process was. My parents helped break down each line of dialogue I didn’t understand and made sure my pronunciation was perfect. Once I had the words in my head, they flowed right out of me, like I had been speaking it as my primary language my entire life. It made me feel very connected to my roots, and reinforced the importance of keeping my Mandarin skills sharp.

I had considered returning to Asia to become an actor, but it did not seem right. Even though the entertainment industry here was plagued with issues of representation and inclusivity, I still felt like every role that I got mattered, and every minute of screen time was another crack at the bamboo ceiling. That struggle gave me purpose, in a way. In Asia, I'd be just another actor trying to get a job. It just didn't feel the same. 

We are different from our cousins who grew up in Asia. We consume different culture, have completely different struggles (just try having a conversation about representation with someone from Asia), and therefore view the world in a completely different way. I'll never close the door on Asia completely but I know that my battlefield is here, with my brothers and sisters who are trying to carve out a shared identity and culture for the second generation and beyond.

In 10 years, I want to be a leading man in Hollywood, and one that continues to fight for representation and continues to build out the culture for “western-raised” Asians. I want to shatter every bamboo ceiling there ever was by proving that we are not anybody's complacent, passive, model minority. We are strong, we are proud, and we will never again be reduced to stereotypes.