A moral audit (of sorts): How AAPI advocacy organizations use resources, money, and power to give back to the communities they claim to serve.


Around 2018, when I was an editor at Deadline Hollywood, I had a lunch meeting at what was then known as the H Club in Hollywood with a gentleman by the name of Bing Chen. He was the co-founder and CEO of a new AAPI organization called Gold House. I was more than happy to meet a fellow community member who was fighting to bring visibility to the AAPI community, a diaspora that has been pushed into the margins for far too long.

As we spoke, I noticed his off-the-charts charisma. He was really excited about AAPI representation. Hell, I think he was more passionate about it than me. I thought Bing Chen had the ability to take over the world.

Fast forward to 2026 and he’s doing full photo spread features for The Hollywood Reporter.

During Gold House’s 2025 “Toast to the Emmys” event in Los Angeles, the organization honored Bowen Yang. When he went onstage to accept his award, he quipped, “When people ask me, ‘What does Gold House do?’ I don’t know what to say.” People started to laugh. I paused and asked myself, “Wait… what does Gold House do?”

It isn’t easy to package into an elevator pitch. Gold House, one of the most notable AAPI nonprofit advocacy groups in the U.S., amplifies AAPI voices through various avenues, an amalgam of culture, entertainment, capital, and community whose members include celebrities, athletes, CEOs, investors, and media figures. (Full disclosure: I was an A100 honoree in 2020.)

While the non-profit Coalition of Asian Pacifics in Entertainment (CAPE), established in 1991 bolsters diversity among AAPI artists and executives in Hollywood, The Asian American Foundation (TAAF), founded in 2021 as a philanthropic endeavor, has a laser focus on AAPI safety, education, and representation.

Meanwhile, Gold House’s work spans cultural programming, venture capital, entrepreneurship, and entertainment consulting. It has a membership network of notable AAPI public figures and as of July 2026, runs its own studio. All of this isn’t necessarily bad. But besides being under the same AAPI umbrella as other older AAPI organizations, what unites these things together in a focused mission for the greater good of the community?

The faces of Gold House

Welcome to the Gold House

When you visit the Gold House website, the first thing you see is:

Gold House is a platform where culture shapes global opportunity. It fuels who we are, who we know, how we love, what we build, and what becomes possible. Through cultural experiences, entertainment, and entrepreneurship, we expand pathways that elevate collective power and move belief beyond limitations. This is where community becomes momentum. Where investment becomes lift. Where culture becomes a force. And where we propel the world forward—together.

It’s very corporate, yet inspirational… and reminiscent of liner notes from the Rhythm Nation album.

Specifically, Gold House has had a strong presence in the film and TV industry. It was their “Gold Open” grassroots theater buyouts, intended to rally community support at the box office for AAPI-led films, that first put them on Hollywood’s radar. According to Character Media, a legacy AAPI media group, the Gold Open project informally started in 2017 with Justin Chon’s Sundance-winning Gook, which banked over $250K at the domestic box office on a $50K budget.

The project evolved into the #GoldOpen movement. It really hit its stride in 2018 with the watershed cinematic moment known as Crazy Rich Asians, directed by John M. Chu. Over 100 AAPI creative professionals, execs, leaders, and founders helped contribute to theater buyouts across the country. The film opened to $25.2 million domestically that weekend, going on to gross more than $240 million worldwide and, at the time, was the highest-grossing romantic comedy in nearly a decade.

Gold House led this charge to drive audiences to the box office and continue to amplify voices of emerging artists and help entrepreneurs at various stages in their careers.

“We harness the power of the established so that they may elevate the emerging,” a Gold House rep who we’ll call ‘Becky’ (a pseudonym) told me. “Our recognition platforms elevate established leaders whose visibility opens doors; our Labs accelerators, Ventures fund and fellowships, and Gold House Studios are built specifically for emerging founders, creatives, and stories – particularly those who do not receive traditional financing or support. We then bridge the two to create a mutually beneficial ecosystem.”

Crazy Rich Asians

When creating these rooms for AAPI folks, Becky says Gold House is mindful of making real opportunities for the community and that they are not just a platform for basic networking. From intimate family dinners and the glamorous Gold Gala annual event to selection committees and advisory boards, their physical and virtual rooms are curated based on: 1) inclusion across identities and industries; and 2) a spirit of collaboration and collective growth.

“Everything Gold House has built — from our promotion of projects to funds — has come from these rooms, research, and community feedback,” Becky says. “The results, that have collectively created $500 million net new dollars for Asian Pacific culture from our history-making opening weekends and Oscars to top-performing companies, speak for themselves.” There have been some impressive opportunities and results. 

Becky tells DIASPORA that they fully financed Lloyd Lee Choi’s 2023 short film Closing Dynasty, which was later adapted into his first feature film, Lucky Lu. With the help of Gold House, Choi was introduced to his producing partners Nina Yang Bongiovi (Fruitvale Station, Passing) and Destin Daniel Cretton (Spider-Man: Brand New Day, Short Term 12), both of whom are also Gold House members. Gold House also directly invested financing in Lucky Lu, a 2025 Cannes selection, and served as an Executive Producer. And, they note, they also paid it forward to up-and-coming voices in the community.

“During the shoot, we were able to place two emerging producers, Aina Paikai and Yeon Jin Lee, from our Producer Accelerator for paid and credited crew roles on the film,” said Becky. “It can be difficult to communicate this level of detail and ‘case study’ to our broader audience in a click-bait/short-attention span world, but they’re the stories we’re most proud of.” Choi’s professional relationship with Cretton continued beyond Lucky Lu as they collaborated on the end credit scene of Spider-Man: Brand New Day.

Gold House also produced the film Rock Springs directed by Vera Miao and starring Kelly Marie Tran, Benedict Wong, and Jimmy O. Yang, helping secure additional financing for the 2026 Sundance horror-thriller and acting in a creative and cultural consulting capacity for the movie, which is still seeking distribution.

Lucky Lu

Rock Springs was just a preview of what was coming for Gold House as they were prepping to introduce the world to their boldest venture yet: Gold House Studios. Announced in July, their slate kicks off with Akiya starring Karen Fukuhara (The Boys) and Robbie Amell (Upload) with Brian Nemes and Christine Yi leading the studio.

It is only natural that a high visibility organization gets scrutinized by the AAPI community and creatives it serves. In part one of this series “The Business of Belonging,” writer and creator Nathan Ramos-Park challenged the appointment of Nemes (who is not of Asian descent) and Yi as the leads of Gold House Studios: “There are so many Asian American execs who have years or decades of experience in [the film & TV] industry, and you’re telling me none of those people who have worked in the art of storytelling were available?”

So I asked Gold House… and they answered.

“Christine and Brian have been running Gold House Labs – Futures, Creative Accelerators, and more – for years and added additional development and production work,” Becky tells DIASPORA. “We’re proud of their track record – our first film was the Sundance-winning Dìdi, after all! – and hope to hire more in the future once we have proven our concept and built a fully sustainable economic model.”

I loved Dìdi. Director Sean Wang had a charming, distinct millennial vision that sang on the screen, and it was a joy to see an AAPI Eighth Grade. A film like Dìdi on Nemes and Yi’s resume is a great calling card. However, when looking through the producer credits for Dìdi, I could not find Nemes or Yi’s names. When I reached out to Gold House to clarify, Yi responded.

“We were not producers on Dìdi; we offered finishing funds while they were in post,” she said. “Typically this is something one would get producer credits for, but it wasn’t something we pushed at the time. Just wanted to be helpful with the time constraints.”

Dìdi

That cleared things up… However, in the 2026 THR profile on Chen it states that “Gold House had already begun experimenting with production through its creative equity fund, which helped finance independent films including Sundance breakout Dìdi.” And in the announcement of Gold House Studios in Variety, it states: “Prior work in financing and production include Sean Wang’s Dìdi, Vera Miao’s Rock Springs, and Grammy winner Laufey’s music video for ‘Madwoman.’”

It’s not entirely clear if Gold House produced or financed Didi at all, yet several public facing profiles claim they did. (I reached out to Focus Features for a comment and as of publication, have not received a response.)

Many in the creative AAPI community might be surprised to learn that Gold House has made direct and concrete contributions to individual AAPI productions. 

Kandy (a pseudonym), a media professional, says that she has the impression that founders of organizations like Gold House have benefited the most from initiatives and growing public profile. 

“I’ll concede that maybe their advocacy has helped raise funds that I simply don’t know about, in which case I think the groups could do more to show what their tangible impact has been beyond red-carpet events and photo calls with AAPI talent,” says Kandy.

She continued to say, “Speaking of which, I’m not sure I can name any film or television project that has benefited significantly from the support of one of these organizations. Certainly visibility always helps, but do screenings in major cities actually move the needle on domestic box office? Maybe that’s a separate conversation to have.”

 

No Asian Left Behind

Trixie (another pseudonym) participated in the Seed&Spark and Gold House AAPI Renaissance Rally, which, according to the website, gave filmmakers the opportunity to receive exclusive mentorships, pitch the Gold House Entertainment Fund with funding provided in part by Madison Wells, and win a spot at the Gold Pitch Event at the Toronto International Film Festival.

“It was a frustrating experience,” Trixie tells DIASPORA. “It was a lot of work, as you need 350 followers and [to] fundraise towards your goal. In the end, they split the pot [among] four winners… Gold House claims to uplift the Asian American community, but only those who have already made it or have tons of visibility”

In addition to film and TV, Gold House has also delved into bolstering representation in journalism with the Gold House Journalism Accelerator Program, which “offers exposure and masterclass opportunities to talented, fast-rising journalists with the shared mission to increase visibility for Asian Pacific voices.” Mariah (yes, this is a pseudonym) was one of many journalists who participated in a program that didn’t seem to be very beneficial to her career.

“It was basic journalism 101, and [it] felt like the majority of us were already successful in our careers for this program,” Mariah explains to DIASPORA. She admits that there is an explicit pressure for journalists to align with organizations like Gold House. She says the access – and simply being associated with the Gold House name can lead to more access to events and screenings as well as work opportunities which are hard to come by for journalists these days.“This is how these organizations have survived and do well – and are never exposed.”

Kandy agrees with Mariah’s sentiment: “I’ve felt implicit pressure with regards to certain AAPI organizations – not all.” As a media professional, Kandy often needs access to talent because specific demands of the job. She says that because organizations like Gold House are now gatekeeping special invite-only screenings and galas, and are now producing film and television projects, she feels that if she doesn’t get on board the Gold House train, it can prevent her from getting access to talent or events to do her job.

“It’s tough to quantify this or to point to any one example, but Gold House has often given me the impression that their advocacy work operates almost as an exclusive membership club to some degree; if you’re invited to their events and have a literal seat at the table as they honor public figures, then you’re now someone who’s earned their trust to cover AAPI talent and culture in their orbit,” says Kandy. “If not, then you’re pressured to spotlight them in a positive way — or to contribute somehow, whether through donations or their mentorship program.”

Bob, the Emmy writer featured in the first installment of “Business of Belonging”, feels that AAPI orgs support the same people and types of people repeatedly. “I realized the only way to garner some of that support was to play ball,” he said.

He makes sure to appreciate the smaller grassroots orgs that explicitly help emerging voices. “They exist to uplift us because larger groups don’t care at all,” said Bob. “They need to be aware of their own biases – their own starfucking tendencies.” 

Some folks don’t feel pressure to align with AAPI orgs. Rather, they welcome it. “I just like the community aspect of hanging out with people I like and who look like me,” says writer/director Willam (a pseudonym). 

Writer/director Steven Kung agrees: “I want to align with these orgs because these are the few organizations fighting exclusively for our community.”

Then there is the camp who don’t feel the need to align at all with Gold House or any other AAPI organizations, for various reasons.

Ginger, who is a screenwriter, does not feel any pressure because of her “chronic inclination to march to the beat of my own drum.” She continued, “After all, better and more authentic results tend to generate when I stand for what I mean.”

Symone, who founded an AAPI media nonprofit, said, “We continue to try to support other AAPI organizations and amplify artists which we share in common, but have felt no pressure [to align with them] because these organizations don’t go out of their way to invite our team, aside from the occasional cross-promotional social media-surface level collabs.”


A tech girl living in a community world

“Gold House is, in essence, a tech disruptor,” Nathan tells DIASPORA. “It was founded by people who came from tech who believe they can use tech principles to positively impact the TV/film industry. TV and film in and of itself is an interesting amalgam of creative and business elements, and all of the AAPI organizations adjacent to and attached to the industry have varying beliefs in how this alchemy should be expressed and supported.”

He continues, “Because tech represents capital ROI, it works as such. Gold House, for example, needs the biggest names in Asian entertainment at their events. However, the companies that Gold House works with are in direct misalignment oftentimes with creatives, which means creatives sign a Faustian bargain for visibility with Gold House. There’s an aspiration of getting to go to an F1 event, rather than the aspiration to create meaningful communal change through TV/film and media at large.”

Nathan uses the annual Gold Gala event as a hypothetical example. “Your favorite Asian celebrity goes to the Gold Gala, which then will have an OpenAI booth, which seems harmless,” he explains. “But then that Asian celebrity is photographed with the OpenAI booth, and it uses people’s parasocial relationship with that person to then get them to move the line on their perceptions of a product/industry/company.” 

There is a time and place for public-facing, glitzy, high-profile events – and Gold House is not the only AAPI organization hosting these types of events. CAPE, TAAF, East West Players, Filipino Forces, Character Media’s Unforgettable Gala – red carpet affairs, for many, can confuse and distract from the greater message of structural change within the AAPI community. Although it’s fun to dress up and feel fabulous amongst your peers, I understand the sentiment. Some people see it as just parties and galas and don’t see it as work. It can feel superficial and performative.

“It helps — and it’s deliberate,” Becky, the Gold House representative, says about high-profile events with A-list and C-suite guests. “For a diaspora that has been systematically under- and misrepresented, cultural visibility is, itself, a lever: it shifts perception, and perception drives greenlights, investment, and consumer power.”

According to Becky, in-person connection is critical to the building of community that creates the eventual structural change. “While events are visible, they are often launched after more substantive and sustainable work. In short: the core work earns the events, not the other way around,” she explains.

Gold House is often seen from the outside as a touchstone for the AAPI community, specifically for AAPI Hollywood. I once overheard an AAPI journalist say, “I will know I have made it when I get invited to Gold Gala!” I didn’t know if I felt this was aspirational or sad.

“We don’t see ourselves as the single or definitive voice and would never claim that,” Becky humbly stated. She went on to say, “We see our role as a platform and a convener: using culture to create opportunity and to open doors for as many people and stories as possible, alongside the many other groups doing vital work in this space.”

 

#JusticeForHong

What does it take to be in and stay in the orbit of high-profile Asian America – and remain in the good graces of these AAPI advocacy groups?

Hong Chau has starred in critically acclaimed films and TV series including Watchmen, Inherent Vice, The Whale, Big Little Lies, Driveways, The Menu, Poker Face, Asteroid City, and most recently, the delightful murder mystery The Sheep Detectives. With such an impressive resume, you’d think she would be the cream of the crop when it comes to the A-list of AAPI Hollywood.

However, when she appeared on WTF with Marc Maron in 2023 she spoke specifically about how there wasn’t an outpouring of support from the AAPI community for her role in the 2017 satirical feature Downsizing, directed by Alexander Payne. In the film she played Ngoc Lan Tran, a refugee with a prosthetic leg that works as a house cleaner. None of that really bothered folks, but the character’s heavy accent seemed to.

To Chau, Ngoc was a groundbreaking character. It was an Asian romantic lead opposite Matt Damon, which is something we didn’t see often. Downsizing marked Chau’s first role in a major studio feature film.

Hong Chau and Matt Damon in Downsizing

Even so, she said that it bothered her that some people thought she was metaphorically “tap dancing” and that she was a puppet in the whole situation. “It wasn’t the kind of representation the community wanted to see,” Chau told Maron on the podcast. Mainstream critics were largely negative on the film, while Chau would later earn a Golden Globes nomination for the role. 

“I think there might have been one or two Asian critics early on who had said that they didn’t like the movie… and I think that sort of gave the green light for white critics to also pile on and point to them and say, ‘Look, this Asian person didn’t like it, so clearly the movie is racist which it’s not.” She said her experience with Downsizing informed her feelings about conversation around representation, recognition, and awards.

Chau also shared a story on the podcast where she and Everything Everywhere All At Once actor Ke Huy Quan were staying at the same hotel and she ran into him. “I normally never go up to people and say hello, but I did because he seemed like a really sweet guy,” she says. “He was like, ‘Oh I’m going to this Asian awards show later. Am I going to see you there?’ and I was like, ‘No, I wasn’t invited.’”

Quan, being the nice guy that he is, insisted that they find a way to correct it but Chau said it was fine because, “I’m just not their girl.”

“I was just disappointed,” she said on WTF. “Not that anybody owes me anything… [but] I saw how the Asian community stepped up for [Everything Everywhere All At Once] after Downsizing… and I was like ‘Wow!’… I really got the cold shoulder from the Asian community,” 

“I didn’t feel like anybody really stepped up and or claimed me,” she said, “and I still feel that way.”.

(I would like to take this moment to declare: “On behalf of the AAPI community, I respectfully claim Hong Chau with open arms and love! And I am totally serious… if Hong Chau or one of her reps sees this article, I would like to offer an interview/”apology on behalf of the AAPI community” over a meal/dinner/hang! It can be on or off the record! Either way you deserve an apology. Please redeem the voucher below. Contact me for more details.)
Katya (a pseudonym), a media professional who was also quoted in the first installment of the series, describes the ecosystem of AAPI entertainment organizations as two distinct ponds: A smaller one that is more grassroots, with an indie-oriented community and where artist networking and outreach happens (CAPE, Visual Communications). Then there are the larger well-connected organizations that are, for lack of a better word, made by and for the “famous” (Gold House, TAAF). 

It’s social work vs. MBAs. People power vs. the power of industry.

“They’re two very different approaches to community-building, but the communities they serve are also not really the same,” Katya breaks it down. “This division feels more class-based than anything, which is why these two types of AAPI arts orgs don’t seem as much in competition with one another as politely co-existing at the same time.”

Gold House is certainly a banner name in the AAPI community in Hollywood and beyond, reaching across high profile industries. Even so, they are not the end all of AAPI advocacy groups. They never claimed to be the spokesperson for Asian American representation.

While it remains to be seen how Gold House Studios can bolster AAPI inclusion from within the entertainment industry, it adds another badge of honor to its sash of AAPI advocacy.

“The Asian Pacific community is vast, plural, and always-evolving,” Becky reiterates. “No one organization speaks for all of it.”


The Business of Belonging is a three part essays series for DIASPORA’s “Community, Interrupted” column. The series dives into the work of advocacy groups in the AAPI film, TV and media community and who is doing the work, who has the power, and who is benefiting the most. Interviews were sourced from an open call to the AAPI community via social media channels. Revisit part 1 and stay tuned for Part 3!

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