I had a bad day today.
I had a bad day because I am hurting from the news of the Atlanta shooting.
I had a bad day because there’s nothing more I’d like to do than to enjoy this beautiful day in Oakland. Or to contribute meaningfully to my place of work. Or to admire the spring flowers outside, to savor a meal, or to celebrate my recent COVID vaccination.
But instead, I can’t focus or do anything but slip back into darker moments of my life. The shame I held for many years for being an object of other people’s fetishes. The way I still feel robbed of a kinder, more innocent youth. Trauma that I still carry, and how easy it is to be re-traumatized by our news cycles.
I’m reminded of the times I’ve been called a “twinkie” (yellow on the outside, white on the inside). The cat calls on the street, “I love me some fried rice” or “Save yourself for me dumpling”. I laugh it off, but it hurts every time. And I’m ashamed of myself for not having any clap backs at the time, or educating all the fools that made me feel bad about myself for so long.
I’m reminded of my younger years dating, when I felt I was making connections, only to have a man say “You’re my first Asian” or “I didn’t know Asian women could be like this”. To wonder if someone liked me for me, or if they just had “Yellow Fever”. To always be acutely aware of my sex and race.
And worst of all, I’m reminded of and still processing the trauma from 10+ years ago when Jeff, a middle-aged married white man with a daughter, preyed on a freshly-out-of-college Taiwanese woman just starting out in the transportation field who reminded him of his long lost love, Tilly, from his graduate school days. When this man had a mid-life crisis and overstepped mentor boundaries to force a young woman to grow up faster than she knew how. To say that it fucked up my world view of men and marriage, and affected my ability to trust and build collegial relationships in the workplace would be an understatement. The transportation world is very small, but I frankly am tired of holding this memory like a secret and scar, and I just don’t need it.
So yes, I’ve had many bad days. So what do I do instead of going on a mass murder spree killing people just based off the color of their skin? I write this and I try to channel my energy into the true pandemic of our times… white supremacy.
If you’re empathetic and wondering what you can do, thank you. Listen and get educated. I didn’t fully learn my own history — from the Chinese Exclusion Act to the politics behind the model minority myth — until I was well into my late 20s. I continue to educate myself about racism and white supremacy. It’s never too late. There’s so many great books and resources out there, including (and definitely not limited to) Ijeoma Oluo’s “So You Want to Talk About Race” to Robin DiAngelo’s “White Fragility” to Richard Rothstein’s “The Color of Law” and basically any simple google search and do your own homework.
If you’re Asian like me, Cathy Park Hong’s “Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning” was a recent cathartic read. NPR’s Code Switch has gotten me through many lonely moments. Amazing comics from Gene Luen Yang, Malaka Gharib, Lela Lee, Thi Bui, Robin Hart, have always made me feel seen. I welcome your suggestions for what’s been supporting you lately.
And check up on all these #StopAsianHate resources https://anti-asianviolenceresources.carrd.co/.
