Opinion

Where Are The Asian American Public Figures Now?

Coupled along with the spread of coronavirus, xenophobia is spreading from shore to shore, causing Chinatown to become deserted as fearful patrons avoid the entire area. Asian businesses have seen a loss as much as 80% of customers, and Asians have become targets of racially charged abuse. Asian students have been bullied, and in some cases, violently attacked. Authorities have spoken out and have been investigating some of the major cases of racism, but when will it stop? How can we prevent more abuse against Asian Americans in schools, workplaces, and public transit? Is there any preventive action against xenophobia during crises such as covid-2019? What are authorities doing to help protect Asian communities across America?

According to UNICEF, there are 5 ways to fight racism and xenophobia. The White House is unwilling to set aside its partisan differences to fight not only the virus but also the xenophobia that accompanies it. And the White House is doing next to nothing in combating either. President Trump’s last few years of antagonizing China has done nothing for the millions of Chinese Americans besides encouraging an irrational fear of China, which has spurred a green light to racism. His continuous tirade against Chinese businesses and government has done little to help either country’s economy, and the continuing trade war has soured US-China relations. And with the spread of the novel coronavirus, Chinese Americans and other Asian communities have been caught in the crossfire. 

Xenophobia in the US, unfortunately, has been normalized as a constant for many people of color. An infographic released by the University Health Services by University of California, Berkeley, was heavily criticized for advising that “xenophobia: fears about interacting with those who might be from Asia and guilt about these feelings,” as normal. The school later apologized for their actions and took the infographic down.  Is this how authorities fight racism on its campuses? By normalizing it? Several students at the university have recalled experiences such as being called “coronavirus,” or told to “go back to China.” Many of those who face harassment in public transit or other public places have expressed frustration at the lack of empathy by the public. “Each person I turned to looked away. The room was silent.” Tien wrote when she was harassed at a Vietnamese nail salon. 

There is little reprieve for the Asian community administ the crisis. While local officials have promised to investigate cases of racism, the general public have failed to call out hate speech and prejudice. Using humor to justify hate speech and other forms of racism is hateful; and speaking out against racist news or occurrences is a step in the right direction. Western media has painted the Asian community as cover art of non-Asian coronavirus patients, blaming them for poor hygiene and different eating practices. American media has always been a victim to constant fear-mongering; President Trump’s entire campaign was run on populist, inexorable fears of the “other,” thus alienating minority groups. America’s love of fear and American media have spearheaded racism against Asian communities, at the expense of decimating local Chinese economies. 

So who are the ones who are leading the fight against anti-Asian sentiment in America? Who were the ones who called for Asian representation in film and other media? Where are they now? In 2018, we were treated to “Crazy Rich Asians,” and in 2020, coronavirus? There has been a lack in Asian public figures who have called out against the xenophobic experiences of Asian Americans. While some have condemned hate speech on social media, most of them have remained largely silent. Is it too much to ask for Asian-American influencers in 2020 to engage in political activism? Many of them have endorsed political candidates. When will they begin to endorse their own communities that they have vowed to vouch for? There have been some occurrences of Asians coming together to protest against the discrimination they have faced, such as trending hashtags of #JeNeSuisPasUnVirus (I’m not a virus) from French Asians, and We zijn geen virussen! (We are not viruses!) by Dutch Asians. There is a lack of a rallying cry of Asian Americans; Tien’s experience at a Vietnamese nail salon illustrates how fragmented Asian American community is. 

If nobody stands for Asian Americans, who will? 

 

Expat Musings

Why Is Your English So Good?

The first time someone asked me that question, I was stunned. The first time someone asked me that question, I struggled to answer in a composed manner. Why couldn’t my English be good? Why was I being asked such a question? Why was I so angry?

“I was born in America. I grew up in California,” I replied, after a moment of shocked silence.

“Oh, I’m from San Diego,” came the reply. As we lapsed into conversation, I couldn’t forget the wave, the feeling of anger that washed over me. It felt foreign; I’ve never been questioned about my English ability before. Perhaps I had been asked in Chinese before, asking why I could speak English by a curious shopkeeper or street seller; but never directly as a conversation starter in English. Was it because the asker was a white American? Was it because of his tone? I felt offended.

On the train ride back, I mulled over the question. Why? But then I realized that this question would have been unacceptable if asked in America– to an Asian American who has spoken English all their life suddenly to be asked about the validity of their American-ness, about their identity as an Asian-American. The question is akin to the “Where are you from?” question often asked to POC, as if America can’t be a valid answer because the color of their skin is not white. In this sense, this question is asking if one can’t be a native English speaker because their appearance is not of Caucasian descent.

The second time someone asked me this question, the shock was no longer there. “Why don’t you have a Taiwanese accent?” the person asked me.

“I grew up in America,” I explained. I had grown accustomed to the question; I had realized that the circumstances abroad and back in America are different; many people haven’t met that many Asian-Americans or other third-culture individuals. I was simply not used to the question; since asking this same question to an Asian-American or to an Asian who has never lived in an English-speaking country would yield very different results.

This question underlies the assumption that the askee is a foreigner– something that would be considered racist towards Asians who have always lived and grown up in an English environment. That’s why this question is acceptable when asked to Asians who have not grown up in an English environment; the asker is wondering how they acquired their English ability.

Once I came to understand how different people would react to this question, I began to understand. The assumption that I couldn’t possibly be American, the assumption that I couldn’t possibly be a native English speaker was what angered me. This assumption would be unacceptable in America, due to the ethnically and culturally diversified demographic. However, this is not the case in Japan, or in any homogeneous society. It is natural to assume that people are not third-culture individuals, or that people’s nationalities and upbringing match their ethnic and cultural background. It is natural to assume that I’m not American.

So if someone asks me this question, I’ll just take the compliment and say that their English is good too.