Expat Musings, Opinion

Tokyo 2020 Employees: Where Do We Go Now?

There is little reprieve for the many contract workers, freelancers, and interns of Tokyo 2020.


One of the reasons why I chose to study in Japan was to be able to live in the same city as the Olympics; to feel the vigor and unity as hundreds of thousands of people join underneath the five interlaced rings. I, along with thousands of others, joined the volunteer program. I, along with thousands of other college students, raced to apply to the olympic broadcasting program, which would consequently make us employees of the olympics broadcasting systems. And I, along with thousands of others, were let go last week, when the International Olympic Committee and the Tokyo 2020 Organizing Committee announced that the Olympics would be postponed. 

I knew that the Olympics would have to be postponed. Months leading up to the announcement, I had doubts about Japan’s capacity in holding the Olympics in the midst of a global pandemic. While Western media praised Japan for its efforts and often alluded to the mystery why Japan had avoided the fate of many of its neighbors inundated by the novel coronavirus– Japan had deliberately avoided widespread testing and relied on contact tracing in order to keep the cases at a minimum. For months, discontent over the current incumbent government has been stirring over a multitude of problems: tax policies, corruption scandals, inability to enact social change, and the response to the coronavirus pandemic. The mismanagement of the Princess Diamond, resulting in 712 infections and 10 deaths was just the brim of what to come. 

I briefly wondered whether I should rescind my position. The virus had no sign of stopping as it ravaged through Europe and America. If the Olympics were to be held in the summer, what sort of precautions should I take? Would I be endangering myself, exposing myself to thousands of people everyday in enclosed spaces like stadiums, broadcasting trailers, or commentary rooms? Would I be endangering others, interacting with my teammates, my colleagues, and thousands of other Olympic employees? 

I expected that the announcement would come soon, as countries were quickly dismantling in the midst of the pandemic. Health care workers in America were pleading for people to stay home; city upon city were issuing quarantine orders. Borders were closing down as thousands of people rushed against the virus to return home. I watched as headlines blared new jumps in cases and new jumps in death tolls. A week prior to the announcement, the government continued to press on, refusing to consider any derailment to their dreams of Olympic grandeur. And yet the world screeched to an abrupt halt as everything shuttered down around us.

The announcement was brief: the Olympics was to be postponed to 2021. I felt relief for a moment before the sinking emptiness and realization hit me. Yes, I would be safe this summer. Yes, I would not be exposing myself to others. And with a brief statement that was released the next day by the broadcasting systems, me, along with thousands of students, and thousands of freelancers, contractors, and volunteers at the Olympics, were let go. 

I realized that I would have to do over the series of tests, applications, training sessions, group discussions next year. My place would not be guaranteed. Hundreds of other students around me gave up coveted positions at other firms for a chance at the Olympics. Many of us are scrambling to apply to other positions, only to find out that many firms, facing an economic crisis, have shuttered their internship programs and turned back new recruits. Our plight cannot compare to the thousands of contract workers and freelancers who work during the Olympics, serving as ticketing organizers, broadcasting professionals, and transportation service providers. With rescinded contracts, many may be without work for several months. Most Olympic employees are on a contract basis without the safety net that other full-time employees have. There is no unemployment insurance to collect; there is no compensation for lost time.  At the end, all of us are faced with the same question: where do we go now? 

With the world in disarray, there is little hope for the many who have become unemployed. There is little solace in the misfortune of many who have the same plight. However, we will continue on, as we always have. 

 

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?