The widespread confusion about something as basic as Ng’s name is an extension of a few all too common questions most Asian Americans are familiar with: What are you? Where are you from? These reductive questions flow from the perpetual perception of foreignness that colors the experience of many Asian people in America. And it shows why Ng’s ascent to the top position in the Marlins organization is so important for Asian Americans, too.

Ng is the second Asian person to hold the position of general manager in major league baseball, and the first Asian American as well as the first Chinese American to rise to the top. Farhan Zaidi, who is of Pakistani descent, is Canadian-born and became the first Asian person to hold the title of general manager when he reached that position with the Dodgers in 2014. Ng also became just the second Asian American to become the GM in any of the major men’s North American professional sports — Rich Cho was the first when he was named GM of the Portland Trail Blazers in 2010. This dearth of Asian people in leadership positions extends to the field as well. There have been just two field managers of Asian descent in baseball, and there are just a handful of others across the other major men’s sports.

The absence of Asian people in visible leadership positions in sports merely reflects larger trends within American society. In 2018, the Harvard Business Review completed a workforce analysis focused on ethnic and racial discrimination. They found solid evidence of what’s come to be called the bamboo ceiling.

“Asian American white-collar professionals are the least likely group to be promoted from individual contributor roles into management — less likely than any other race, including blacks and Hispanics. And our analysis found that white professionals are about twice as likely to be promoted into management as their Asian American counterparts.”

A year earlier, the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health published a series of studies analyzing discrimination in America. They reported that in the context of institutional discrimination, “a quarter or more of Asian Americans say they have been personally discriminated against because they are Asian when applying for jobs (27%) or when being paid equally or considered for promotions (25%).”

That Ng finally rose to her position while having to navigate the intersectional discrimination of being both a woman and Asian is a triumph — and damning for the system that held her back from ascending to the top earlier. This graphic that accompanied the Marlins’ announcement speaks volumes.

With more than 30 years of experience in baseball, including being named the youngest Assistant GM in baseball history, Ng was more than qualified to run a front office. She had interviewed for general manager openings at least six other times and each time fell short. Some of those previous opportunities seemed like mere formalities, a way for teams to tick a box on their diversity checklist. “There were times where I felt like the interview wasn’t maybe on the up-and-up,” said Ng in her introductory media session. “But I will say that just by having my name out there was a source of hope for people. And so you do it because you know that you just have to keep your name out there.” It’s a testament to her tenacity and determination that she never gave her dream up; it’s an indication of a deeply flawed system that she had to show such perseverance.

The common form of discrimination Asian people confront in America is that of a perpetual foreignness. Based on their appearance, Asian people are often assumed to be immigrants and speak a foreign language, and are often lumped into a homogenous racial group, stripping away the particularities of their specific ethnicity. This constant othering results in a persistent sense that Asians don’t belong in America, and no amount of success or achievements will ever change that.

This kind of discrimination is something that Ng has had to deal with throughout her career, most publicly in this incident from 2003.