Asian Americans — The Conversation We Need to Start Having
By: Stephen Dong
Tags: Race, Identity, Racial Justice, Asian American, Politics

Throughout 2020, I’ll admit it, I’ve become a fan of TikTok, and used it, perhaps more than I should. It was TikTok that alarmed me of the “coronavirus” early on, as concerned jokes about it spreading to the United States frequented my “for-you-page.” Next thing I know, panic arises, schools close, the world goes on a toilet-paper frenzy, and we are amid a global pandemic.

As the world gets put on pause, we get disconnected from our local communities and seek new ways to connect. With no school to attend, no friends to meet, and sometimes no jobs to attend to, we begin filling that void created through our isolation. For many of us, that meant spending more time on the internet.

It is likely this that caused the widespread reaction to the publicization of the video of George Floyd’s death, which brought the black lives matter movement into the spotlight, revealing a history of hidden oppressions and forced us all to recontextualize history as we know it.

Back on social media, screaming and shouting only gets worse, coming from various different sources. On TikTok, my “for-you-page” began to show videos filled with blatant racism towards the Chinese American Community. Jokes about bat-soup, dubbing of the virus as the “Chinese virus,” and hate-speech was not rare.

While jokes of “bat-soup” have died down, the widespread racism towards the Chinese American community has not. To me, this was not surprising.

Racism against Asian Americans within American society is not uncommon. In fact, it is normalized. Notions such as the model minority stereotype and unconscious discriminations occur far and wide. To many Asian Americans, this has been an accepted fact. I have made the evaluation that Asian Americans are less vocal than other demographics when they are oppressed.

Although now, as I am a young adult attending university, I can recognize these fragments of discrimination and I hold pride in this culture that comprises a part of me, I didn’t have that perspective when I was a young boy growing up in this society. I grew up in a community where there are very limited Asian Americans. In my high school, Asian Americans comprised of only 2.6% of the total student population. Growing up in an American society without peers that shared my background caused me to feel disconnected from my background.

Furthermore, children are honest. To observe the impression of how society views people, we could turn to the children. My friends would frequently make jokes and jabs at my Asian culture. While they are lighthearted and intended as jokes, they still come rooted in negative believes around my Chinese background. Jabs around my last name, my eyes, my family owning a restaurant, and the fact that I played piano revealed how these kids perceived Asian Americans, and it had an effect on me. I began poking fun at my own culture, adopting behaviors and habits that society would consider less “Asian,” and hold an internalized disgust against my culture. Perhaps in a method of defense, that disgust wasn’t directed towards myself, because I have in my mind defected so far from the Asian stereotype.

While I have since begun to appreciate my culture and background through education and various trials, I am constantly reminded of the normalized racism against Asian Americans throughout our society. Perhaps because of my privileged background or my childhood exposure to these hidden microaggressions, I don’t feel affected as much by observing these racist actions (which, if true, would speak magnitudes about how bad this racism is). However, there is a clear effect on the self-concept of Asian Americans, especially on those who are still young.

I cannot forget the days my then-elementary-school-aged brother would come home crying because his friends would call him a wonton. Despite my attempts at telling him to go to the teacher, the teacher wouldn’t do anything. To the teacher, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal.

Back then, I was just in middle school. My parents weren’t able to help too much often, they just told my brother to suck it up. I cannot blame them because I know they wish the best for them. From hearing stories of their past, I knew my parents faced a great share of racism themselves, as they are first-generation immigrants. Their approach was to suck it up, and not cause more trouble.

My parents have endured. I believe that they have felt that their voice didn’t matter. Kimberlee Crenshaw describes intersectionality as the overlap of various social identities, including race, gender, sexuality, and class to combine to create a unique oppression faced by each individual (Crenshaw 140). In the context of Crenshaw’s intersectionality, my parents were multiple-burdened. Not only were they the oppressed Chinese Americans, but they were first-generation immigrants who lacked a strong support network beyond immediate family and lacked a strong grasp of the English language. This combination of identities combined further marginalized them.

Now, I know I could have done more, and I know that if that were to ever happen again, I would do more. I am young, have a support network rooted in this country, and understand the dominant culture and language. I lack many of the identity tags that have burdened my family.

I know my situation is not unique, and I know that many Chinese Americans and generalized Asian Americans have stories that can relate to mine. So, for the young Asian American generation, I urge you to use your unique privilege to fight against the systemic racism that Asian-Americans face. And for everyone else, I plead you to be an ally in the Asian-American fight against oppression.

Work Cited:

Crenshaw, Kimberle. “Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Antidiscrimination Doctrine, Feminist Theory, and Antiracist Politics [1989].” ​University of Chicago Legal Forum:​ vol. 1989, no. 1, pp. 139–152., doi:10.4324/9780429500480–5.