“A nation’s greatness is measured by how it treats its weakest members.”
-Mahatma Gandhi
Last week, Asians joined a club that nobody ever wants to be part of. Like our Black brothers and sisters, our LGTBQ+ brothers and sisters, and so many others, Asians were gunned down for simply being.
Make no mistake, this is not the first racially motivated attack against Asians in America and it will not be the last. Nor, sadly, will it not be the last attack on people of color, gay people, young people, or elderly people until we exert the moral and political pressure to make it stop.
As an Asian-American woman, I’ve carried a heavy emotional burden this past week due to the murders in Atlanta. Last week was the boiling over of simmering hate and violence we’ve seen over the past year against Asians, particularly targeted at our elderly.
Having grown up in San Francisco and living in Brooklyn, I have had the great privilege of living in progressive bubbles. I’ve been lucky to have not been the target of overt racist attacks. How strange to say I’ve been lucky as if it’s not an expectation that we can all have to live our lives unmolested. But, there is one recent event that I’d like to share with you.
In 2019, at my local grocery store around the corner from my apartment, I was picking up a few things on my way back from the gym. I brushed past a man at the check-out and said, “Excuse me.”
He was slightly disheveled, with red-rimmed eyes and the smell of alcohol on his breath. He started yelling, “Don’t shove me! Don’t touch me!”
I responded, “I didn’t shove you.”
He then looked at me for the first time. Obviously, taking in that I was Asian-American and a woman. He started yelling at me, “You’re an animal! Go back to where you came from!”
I froze with my groceries in my hand. Everyone around me froze. He was obviously mentally disturbed and drunk, but did I not have a right to be in my local grocery store without being assaulted by racists?
I waited for someone to say something.
Nobody did.
I silently paid for my groceries and the young Muslim woman at the counter whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
I countered in a loud voice for him to hear, “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault that there are crazy people.”
Walking home, I practiced a million other responses that I could have said. Mostly, though, I was in disbelief that even in broad daylight in my bougie grocery store in downtown Brooklyn that this could happen. And that nobody said a thing. And that if it could happen here, it could happen anywhere.
I thought back to that day often over the course of the last two years. When the micro-attacks happen and go unchecked by good people, it emboldens racism. When we let the little things slide, it leads to the big things that shatter communities.
Since that day, I’ve redoubled my commitment to call out racism in big and small ways. I’ve also promised myself to not be a silent bystander when I see others being targeted. As Asians, we’re taught to put our heads down and not make a fuss. As an American, I was taught to stand up for justice and speak up.
The success of this democratic American experiment rests on our courage to take care of each other, even when it’s scary and even when it’s not “our people.” It’s enough that we’re people.
Here are ways to get involved:
Donate: Asian Americans Advancing Justice, AAPI Women Lead, or donate directly to victim’s families.
Attend a free training to understand the historical context of Anti-Asian violence with Roots to Revolution.
Participate in marches and vigils in your area.
Support your local Asian-owned businesses, especially in Chinatowns.
