It’s been a few days since the news broke of the mass shooting in Atlanta. I had friends that reached out to see how I was handling the news and all I could say was that I was still “processing”. The thoughts that have been running through my head about this tragedy are so closely intertwined with everything that I have been thinking about in terms of my identity over the past year. On the surface…
I am livid.
I’m angry that a white supremacist decided that the solution to his personal problem was to use the fetishization of Asians as a symbol of his temptation. To those that say race was not a motivator, I call bullshit. If he was trying to eliminate the temptation, then why would he only target Asian businesses that are miles apart? I’m sure there were at least a few sex toy shops along the way, but he didn’t stop there. He specifically targeted Asian-run businesses because he sees Asian women as a threat and a problem.
I’m angry that the Cherokee County police relayed the murderer’s claim that it was not racially motivated as fact, instead of making a determination based on his actions.
I’m angry that the Hyun Jung Grant’s (one of the victims) sons have to grow up without any parents and that her eldest son has to figure out how to provide for his little brother.
I’m angry that Delaina Ashley Yaun’s (one of the victims) children, one who is only 8 months old, will grow up without their mom.
I’m angry that the media hasn’t learned from past shootings and still focuses more on humanizing the shooter and his life than the victims. I’m also angry that at the beginning of the pandemic, the media used photos of Asians in face masks in articles that had nothing to do with the news story about COVID-19. It further perpetuated the myth that COVID was a Asian disease.
I’m angry at the comments I see where the victims of the shootings are reduced to debates about whether or not they were sex workers and if they are deserving of our attention. (Hint to the correct answer: they are humans first and your fabricated outrage is irrelevant.)
I’m angry that a year ago, I was telling people that using terms like “Chinese Virus”, “China Virus”, and “Kung Flu” would have repercussions on my family, friends, and community– yet, my fear was minimized and questioned.
I’m angry that in DC, the House voted to award Capital Police officers with Congressional Gold Medals, yet 12 Republicans voted against it because the language of calling the mob on January 6th, “insurrectionists”, was too harsh. Then during a House Judiciary Committee hearing about the rise in anti-Asian American violence and discrimination, Rep. Chip Roy was “concerned” that the Asian-Americans citizens and Representatives testifying seemed to “want to venture into the policing of rhetoric in a free society, free speech, and away from the rule of law and taking out bad guys.” The hypocrisy of “policing rhetoric” when it aids in Republicans evading accountability is baffling.
I’m angry that these murders, 3,800 reported incidents of hate since March 2020, and multiple news stories of Asian Americans being harmed will still not be enough for some people to see our pain and fear as valid.
I’m angry that no matter how much Asian-Americans give to this country, through service, taxes, or contributions to the community, we will always be seen as an foreigner.
I’m angry that as an Asian-American woman, I am seen as a box to check off in a guy’s list of conquests. Back in my bar-hopping days, guys would approach me to buy me a drink, not because they were interested in me specifically, but because he “had a thing for Asians”. I was the embodiment of the media fetishization of Asian women to them.
I’m angry that people who can only speak one language will look down on people who have an accent and speak over them while they are trying to find the right words in their 2nd or 3rd language.
I’m angry that I’ve been told my family is barbaric for eating food that is different from theirs.
Beneath this anger, I also feel remorseful for my own actions that have unknowingly perpetuated this situation.
I’m sad that while living in predominately white communities all of my life, I have used my ethnicity as a joke to fit in.
I’m sad that I have said I wished I was white. I’m even more sad to find out that this is a thought many 2nd generation Asian-Americans have had.
I’m sad that I am more aware and cautious of my surroundings in public now because I don’t know who else is having “a bad day”.
I’m sad that the older they get, the less I’ll be able to shield my sons from racist rhetoric and discrimination. That the day is getting closer where a ching chong joke thrown at my kindergartener won’t be innocent and I’ll have to explain that it’s not just a “bad word” but that there were bad intentions behind it.
I’m sad that it took me 33 years to start learning about Asian-American history because it was never taught in school.
I’m sad that I feel this burden of not sharing the racist incidents I’ve faced because my culture has brought me up to not rock the boat and to silently bear the burden of feeling “other” because we need to be strong. I also feel this burden when people pit Asian-Americans and the Black community against one another. People have made statements pointing out how angry and loud African Americans are about the injustices they face, and then they point to Asian Americans as an example of how “it should be done”. How we don’t make a fuss, and stay quiet until it really matters, and how we’ve easily assimilated into white culture. This extra pressure has resulted in the under-reporting of anti-Asian incidents, and the under representation in politics and the media. We can’t be silent anymore.
I’m sad for not understanding how harmful the “model minority” stereotype is to myself and to other minority groups. That no matter how much we try to fit in at the expense of our own identities, our successes will be used to push down other minorities, while we will always bear the risk of being discarded as foreign.
Through these dueling emotions, I hear my mom say, “Life’s too short, let it go.” While I don’t think it’s okay to brush everything aside and forget it, I do think it’s okay to acknowledge why I’ve felt so strongly about my identity this past year and then move on to make this world more inclusive for my sons.
There is hope.
Good News Out of Atlanta
The older son of Hyun Jung Grant started a GoFundMe page and it has raised almost $2 million. He was in a state of disbelief in his update today (3/19/21). It made me smile to think of the burden that was lifted off of his shoulders by thousands of strangers across the country.
There is also a GoFundMe page for Delaina Ashley Yuan’s funeral costs. They are only a few thousand dollars away from reaching their goal. You can donate here.
Elcias Hernandez Ortiz survived the shooting and is fighting for his life. You can donate to his medical costs here.
Sun Cha Kim’s granddaughter organized a fundraiser page for her grandma’s memorial and funeral costs.
Paul Michaels was a combat veteran and grew up in Michigan. He also has a GoFundMe page to help with funeral costs.
Political Action
There are two bills that have been introduced to Congress recently:
- The Jabara-Heyer NO HATE Act (H.R. 3545) – This bill establishes grants for states and local government to improve law enforcement activities to address hate crimes, which includes improving the reporting of hate crime data to relevant national systems. It also allows a court to order, as a penalty for a violation of a federal hate crime statute, a defendant to participate in educational classes or community service related to the community harmed by the defendant’s offense.
- COVID-19 Hate Crimes Act (H.R. 1843) – This bill directs more resources to the Department of Justice to fight hate crimes due to COVID-19.
If you do not see your Representative on the list of co-sponsors, contact them to make sure they introduce these bills to the floor for a vote. It is so important that we are reporting and addressing acts of hate.
If you live in Chicago, Teaching Equitable Asian American Community History (TEAACH) Act (HB 376) needs your support. This bill will paint a more complete picture of American history by adding Asian American history to the Illinois School Code.
Asian-American History Education in Public Schools
It’s disheartening to see how whitewashed our history books are. One of the ways I think we can fight against the stigma of being a perpetual foreigner is to learn and educate people about Asian-American history. Asian-Americans have contributed so much to the fabric of our country but it is rarely talked about. There is a petition to add Asian-American history to textbooks. It was started almost a year ago and only had about a thousand signatures. It has grown exponentially in the past few weeks. It only needs about 10,000 more signatures: Sign the petition here.
There was also a 5-part series that aired on PBS in 2020 called Asian Americans. It gives a good cliff notes version of our history: Watch it here.
Unity Within the Community
Daniel Dae Kim testified at a hearing before Congress on Thursday. He recalled a conversation with a pollster that told him Asian-American wasn’t a choice in many political polls because we are “statistically insignificant”. Part of that (I think) is because Asian-Americans have long felt unheard and the record of voting with a large portion of our community is non-existent. But Kim noted that we are the fastest growing demographic in the United States. He states, “We are 23 million strong. We are united and waking up.”
We have to make sure our voice is represented. Register to vote. Register your friends and family to vote. Follow APIA Vote to sign up others and educate them on the importance of voting.
Allies Outside our Community
Since last year, I’ve had a lot of conversations around race and privilege. I’ve been disappointed in the outcomes of some– but also was surprised at the outpouring of support with people I didn’t expect. People from many different races and ethnicities. I felt heard and understood in those conversations and it gave me hope that with allies outside of the Asian-American community, we can succeed in our fight to have a seat at the table.
A friend recently shared this with me:
“We’re behind you until we have to be in front of you to protect you.”
Even with all of the emotions and thoughts swirling through my brain this week, I truly see a way forward. A way where our country does not have to be so divided. It takes each one of us to put in the time to have conversations and educate ourselves and others respectfully. It will be a hard path to find common ground, but I am willing to put in the work.
Thank you for listening <3
Tracy
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