It is projected that within three decades, the United States will have a “majority-minority” population. We asked four artists to consider this demographic shift, and show us their visions of the year 2050. First up is An Xiao, a designer and artist who focuses on the role of technology in building communities.
When I was little, I dreamed of speaking three languages. It’s a very LA experience: in any given week, depending on the neighborhood and context, I try to speak (broken) Spanish or (slightly better) Mandarin. But my foreign language skills are not the best, and I often break into English when necessary. Chinglish, Spanglish, Spanese?
I love seeing what happens when languages collide. The writer in me loves hearing how sounds and accents formulate meaning, and the designer in me wants to know how different scripts and writing systems communicate a message. Spanish mixes with English mixes with Tagalog. Chinese characters, Arabic script. The distinctive sharp angles of Hangul.
This is a collection of photos gathered from places as varied as Seoul, Manila, Los Angeles, Shanghai, and Wuhan. They’re all little moments I captured when at least two, sometimes three, languages started having the beginnings of a conversation.
I’m not sure if a majority-minority country would speak one hybrid language or many different ones. But maybe there’s a hint somewhere in a place like Los Angeles, where it feels like 2050 has already arrived.
What does 2050 look like to other artists? To view the other pieces from this series, click here:
Oyama Enrico Isamu Letter














“81 Bowery is their home and their only choice for a place to live.”
Maroosha Muzaffar talks to a taxi-dancer, who works at one of the many taxi-bars in Jackson Heights, Queens, where lonely immigrant men pay for a dance and a shot at love.
There are 42,000 cab drivers in New York City--and 82% of them are immigrants. Many from them from white collars jobs back in their home country.
Writer Katie Salisbury goes on a quest to Mission Chinese to check out the monster success of Asian hipster cuisine.
Kyla Cheung talks to Ashok Rajamani about his uniquely humor-filled memoir recovering from an aneurysm at the age of 25.