Current Thought Swirls: The Asian [Woman]
I’ve avoided this space for quite some time now. I’ve struggled to find the right hook to start what I feel like needs to be said without knowing what I want to say. So I did what was easiest. I remained silent. And just because I am writing does not mean I suddenly have coherent thoughts but I have come to the conclusion that I can no longer allow the words to swirl around my mind, bumping its emotions and thoughts from one wall to the other. So here we are.
A little over five months ago Asian women were targeted and murdered. There were cries for justice. And rage against white supremacy. My heart ached at the ways culture left those women vulnerable. Patriarchy and misogyny has a way of silently strangling Asian women, in some ways quite literally. Don’t get me wrong, it was infuriating to hear that a white mass murderer was handcuffed and taken in when the police often seem incapable of interacting with unarmed Black men and women without accepting blood on their hands. White supremacy was definitely in action.
But the Asian woman’s role in society, established by culture and perpetuated by infatuations and misplaced needs, can not be ignored. And this is where my insides twist a bit more, in confusion, grief, and anger. I have had a complicated journey with my Asian-American, specifically Korean-American, identity. Loving the traditions and language that make my [Asian] identity unique while hating my eyes, flat face, and the expectations that as a woman I should be petit, subservient, docile, and silent. It is a strange experience to love and hate what we are told to be. But in that tension, I have also learned the importance of examining and interrogating. It is something I have learned from my parents; never accept things as they are.
How did they know to push against and through power dynamics? Yet...why, at moments, did they cower and comply? How did they know to write new traditions? Yet...why do certain roles and responsibilities remain preserved?
This past year highlighted the existence of Asians and Asian-Americans in America. Suddenly, we were relevant because we were a disease; our pain was worth standing up against because it was violent and caught on media.
I struggle[d] watching scenes of Asian men and women, mostly our elders, being assaulted and beaten. I writhe at the insults hurled at these victims. It renders me helpless; the same feeling I had watching my mother and father as they were overlooked, insulted, patronized.
At the same time, I struggle with feeling extremely uncomfortable as this collective pain is highlighted for the nation to see. I understood its purpose - to gain attention so justice can be served; to gain attention so that there would be some motivation to respond with action and movement; to gain attention to validate the voices, the pain, the sacrifices that are and have been in this country.
And still, this past year and a half has been and continues to be an uncomfortable journey for me. Perhaps it is because of the energy I put towards being invisible, silent, compliant for much of the first half of my life. Perhaps it is because in the second half, my disruptiveness was mine - my voice, my agency, within my control. Nevertheless, this uncomfortable journey remains present, and:
It accentuates how powerless Asians actually are and always have been within an oppressive system.
It spotlights our role on the hamster wheel; seemingly making progress, applauded for certain talents that seem to set us apart, and still far from true equity when it comes to having an actual seat at the table.
It renders the model minority myth null and void when a scapegoat is needed but catapulted against Black and Brown communities when, similarly, a foil is needed.
It highlights the long history of tension that exists between Black and Asian communities that is a product of, contributed by, and remains intact because of history, policies, and systems - with White supremacy as its foundation.
And it reminds us that we have only scratched the surface when it comes to pursuing equity and justice in our country.
It's become quieter these days, the active voices for justice and peace for women, BIPOC communities, and for unified efforts across cultural, racial, ethnic experiences. But let's not forget...
Addendum (3/16/22):
One year later. It seems that it is harder to find space to grieve and remember with new incidents coming to light left and right, almost as if we are intentionally being kept on an exacerbated edge, all consumed in tangible fear beyond that which lives subconsciously or quietly in our ever overthinking minds. My only way has been to find quiet moments to cry, to check in with my elders and my peers, and to share information to my best capacity. A friend wrote this article recently, which I found solace in. Whoever you are, I hope it offers some semblance of peace and understanding today.
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