By Issie Wee, Opinions Editor

A world without any discrimination is one we can only dream of. A distant dot in space far, far away. But just because that world seems out of reach does not mean institutions should stop questioning whether their own systems contribute to the problem.

Yes.

I am calling you out, Grammys.

I found out about the Grammy Awards’ new Best Asian Pop Music Performance category from the K-pop group BTS. And to my surprise, it was because they announced that they would not be submitting their music for consideration at the 2027 Grammys—not because they were nominated for it, or because they were celebrating a new milestone for Asian music. Soon after the Grammys announced their new Asian category, all seven members of BTS shared a statement on their individual Instagram stories expressing the same wish: that their “music can be heard and loved for what it is rather than being divided by region or language.”

As an Asian and a K-pop fan myself, I wanted to understand why this new Asian category was such a big deal.

To me, at first glance, a Grammy category recognizing Asian pop sounded amazing. K-pop and other forms of Asian pop have grown rapidly in the last few decades, becoming influential around the world, and now the Grammys were creating a space dedicated specifically to recognizing it. Asian music seemed to be getting the recognition it deserved. But BTS’s statement made me think about what that recognition truly entailed.

The Recording Academy’s new category recognizes contemporary popular music originating from or widely recognized within Asian markets, including K-pop, J-pop, and C-pop. But there are boundaries. According to the category’s eligibility rules, “recordings must feature meaningful use of one or more Asian languages.” The rules also state that “recordings performed entirely in English are not eligible in this Category.”

Obviously every category needs some way to define what belongs in it. The Grammys have always separated music into genres and styles, and Asian pop needs a criteria to distinguish it from other categories. But that is also what makes this complicated. A category can be created to recognize a musical tradition without intending to exclude anyone. Yet once that category exists, it also creates a boundary around the music inside it.

Specialized categories can still be valuable. Rap received its own Grammy category in 1989. The Grammys have also created dedicated categories for Latin music, giving recognition to genres and traditions that might otherwise receive less attention in broader awards. These categories introduce audiences to music they may not be familiar with. So, I am not saying that the solution is to get rid of specialized categories. I am saying that the line between recognition and discrimination is very thin.

In 2020, Tyler, the Creator criticized the Grammys’ “urban” category after winning Best Rap Album for IGOR. He argued that the label could group Black artists and music together even when their music crossed into other genres such as pop. The history of Black music in the American music industry is not the same as the history of Asian music, and I am not trying to equate the two. However, Tyler’s criticism raises a question that extends beyond just one community: When does recognition become separation?

Despite often being lesser known outside of their home country, Asian artists have spent years pushing musical boundaries and reaching audiences beyond them. K-pop is not just popular in Korea anymore. Asian artists are collaborating with people around the world, recording in multiple languages and building audiences outside of their countries. So why reinforce the boundaries that the music itself has already crossed? Shouldn’t music be awarded solely for its music, not its background?

BTS’s Grammy history makes this tension particularly hard to ignore. The iconic K-pop boy group has spent years breaking barriers that once seemed to define where Asian artists could be recognized in the Western music scene. They have performed at the Grammys multiple times and received five nominations without winning.

BTS’s decision not to submit their music for consideration at the 69th annual Grammy Awards challenges the assumption that more categories automatically mean more equality. They said they want their music to be heard and loved for what it is, rather than divided by region or language. I understand that.

I do not want Asian artists to receive less recognition. I want an Asian artist to be able to win Best Asian Pop Music Performance when their music belongs there. But I also want that same artist to be able to compete for Record of the Year, Album of the Year, Song of the Year or Best Pop Solo Performance when their music belongs there. These opportunities should not have to compete with each other. Being recognized as Asian should not mean being recognized only as Asian.

That is why I don’t think the new category should automatically be treated as either a solution or a problem. It could be meaningful. It could introduce listeners to artists they have not heard before and give Asian musicians recognition for the musical traditions they have built.

I hope it does.

But I also hope that people do not see a separate category as a solution to Asian representation in the American music industry. Simply creating a new category does not solve the long-standing issue of Asian artists failing to gain the same opportunities for recognition. If the Grammy category for Asian pop is treated as the place where Asian artists belong, the category stops being an opportunity and starts becoming a restriction.

I do not want a consolation prize. Representation is not just about having a place. It is about having access to every place where your work deserves to be recognized.

An Asian artist should not have to choose between being recognized as Asian and being recognized as a pop artist.

They can be both.