In the summer of 2018, I—like many of my other Asian American friends—became an employee at a bubble tea shop (Sharetea to be more specific). I donned the black uniform that had a cartoonish, yet ugly, drawing of a milk tea drink on the front with the stupidly large catchphrase, “It’s Bobbalicious!” scrawled beneath. I learned how to cook tapioca pearls until they were the perfect softness and chewiness with a slight hint of brown sugar. I learned that forgetting my beater shoes at home resulted in a Thai tea being spilled all over my white AF1s only a few minutes after clocking in. I learned that even when it’s Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, people still come in for bubble tea (but the tips will be much more generous). But most importantly, I learned that I NEVER WANT TO WORK AT A BUBBLE TEA SHOP EVER AGAIN.

Bubble tea (珍珠奶茶) originated in Taiwan during the 1980s with two rival tea houses laying claim to conceiving the addictive beverage: Hanlin Tea House in Tainan and Chun Shui Tang in Taichung. After the United States Congress passed the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, waves of Taiwanese immigrants began flooding into America from the 1960s through the 1990s. Like many other Asian immigrants, Taiwanese immigrants began their lives in America by entering the restaurant industry. Alongside their affordable and Westernized Asian food, many of these restaurants also sold cheap bubble tea on the side for no more than a dollar. In the early 2000s, Tapioca Express, Lollicup, Quickly and TenRen emerged as the first stores that catered specifically to bubble tea. Many of these early bubble tea shops were owned by Taiwanese immigrants and became welcoming spaces for the young Asian diaspora. For many Asian diaspora, including myself, these bubble tea shops are familiar territory: the worn out card sets that inevitably had a missing a card or two; the laminated, handwritten menus; the small and slightly sticky tables that were always crowded with more people than there were chairs.

For me, bubble tea is associated with nostalgic childhood memories. From pre-school until my sophomore year of high school, I spent every Sunday at Chinese school. The only thing that got me going through those arduous six hours was knowing that my mom would be waiting for me with a black milk bubble tea that she had bought from the local Chinese supermarket food court. Even when I became old enough to drive myself to go get bubble tea, my mom would always be there with a bubble tea in hand (although my tastes did become more refined and I moved onto exclusively fruit teas). Bubble tea became associated with a feeling of comfort and love. 

In 2013, the Fung Brothers released a music video titled “Bobalife”. The song, set to the tune of Owl City’s “Good Times”, describes the joys of bubble tea with the lyrics proudly proclaiming “we living that boba life!” Following the release of this video, bubble tea began to explode in popularity in 2014. Bubble tea shops have also become increasingly accessible. For example, in recent years, more and more bubble tea chains from Asia such as Xing Fu Tang and Tiger Sugar have made their way to North America. When I was younger, there were only a few locations where bubble tea was available; now there are more locations in a 10 mile radius than I can count on my fingers. Many bubble tea shops have also started following the popular trends of Asian bubble tea shops such as cheese foam and brown sugar boba. Facebook groups such as Subtle Asian Traits have also contributed to the ever growing popularity of bubble tea with the use of memes and witty posts.

I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood and was one of the few Asians at my high school. As I grew older, I began to frequent bubble tea shops more. I started spending more time there, whether it was studying or catching up with my friends while we took turns playing card games. More times than not, it would be a friend behind the counter which led to discounted drinks with free toppings. Like many of my other friends, bubble tea slowly became a part of our cultural identity as Asian diaspora. For one, Asian culture is largely food oriented. Food is our love language and we find enjoyment in sharing it with our friends and family. Food becomes a centerpiece in our lives, a mutual ground which we descend upon to relish in each other’s company. Many of us also grew up with traditional Asian cuisine; hence the toppings in bubble tea beverages such as herb jelly and red bean are not foreign to us, but rather a taste of home. Bubble tea shops are also a readily accessible common ground for many Asian diaspora. They have become the Asian equivalent of coffee shops, a space that facilitates familiarity, friendship and belonging. A space where being “Asian” is acceptable and even welcomed and nurtured. The act of grabbing bubble tea is an affordable and recognized way for Asian diaspora to take part in each other’s shared and lived experiences. There are those that argue that Asian-Americans attach themselves to bubble tea as culture because they lack a culture of their own. However, I disagree with this statement. Bubble tea has grown to be a cultural icon largely representative of the Asian community and that is something I take pride in. I take pride in the fact that something from my community has become so popularized and accepted. I take comfort in consuming something that reminds me of home, especially when I’m thousands of miles away and the one thing that can bring me a feeling of peace is a simple bubble tea from my local shop. And I don’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of.