Category Archives: Antiracism

“Asian Americans inhabit a purgatorial status: neither white enough nor black enough, unmentioned in most conversations about racial identity. In the popular imagination, Asian Americans are all high-achieving professionals. But in reality, this is the most economically divided group in the country, a tenuous alliance of people with roots from South Asia to East Asia to the Pacific Islands, from tech millionaires to service industry laborers. How do we speak honestly about the Asian American condition—if such a thing exists?” – Cathy Park Hong

At a time when acts of anti-Asian racism are having a surge it is more important than ever to be visible and vigilant, and to celebrate Asian American – Pacific Islander (AAPI) Heritage Month. The U.S. Census Bureau defines Asians as those “having origins in any of the original peoples of the Far East, Southeast Asia, or the Indian subcontinent, including (but not limited to) China, Japan, Thailand, Malaysia, Korea, India, Cambodia, Vietnam or the Philippines.” Pacific Islanders are those whose “origins belong to Polynesia, Micronesia, and Melanesia. This classification includes (but is not limited to) Native Hawaiian, Samoan, Tahitian, Guamanian, Fijian and Papua New Guinean people.”

Taken together, these two groups include an extensive list of countries, whose histories and cultures vary magnificently, making any sort of blanket categorization risky at best, and part of the purpose of AAPI Heritage month is in learning these distinctions.

May was chosen as the honorary month based on the reported arrival of the first Japanese immigrants to the United States on May 7, 1843. That month also marked the anniversary of the completion of the transcontinental railroad, and the majority of workers who worked on laying those tracks were Chinese immigrants. Though reports differ slightly, the first documented Asians to actually arrive in the Americas were Filipinos in 1587, who arrived at what would become the California coast.

“Inevitably, though, there will always be a significant part of the past which can neither be burnt nor banished to the soothing limbo of forgetfulness – myself. I was and still am that same ship which carried me to the new shore, the same vessel containing all the memories and dreams of the child in the brick house with the toy tea set. I am the shore I left behind as well as the home I return to every evening. The voyage cannot proceed without me.” – Luisa A. Igloria

My Filipino heritage was neither hyped nor erased when my parents raised us. My Dad, who is from Batangas (located on Luzon, the largest island of the Philippines), largely adopted an American way of life before we were born, so it was my Mom who insisted on making our Filipino heritage a part of our upbringing. They both cooked Filipino dishes, and Dad would regale us with tales of his childhood (mostly as a comparison to how easy we had it in ours). When Dad’s family members would visit we would listen with rapt interest as he slipped into Tagalog, marveling at a side of him we rarely got to glimpse.

As biracial children, my brother and I had our feet firmly planted in American soil, but our roots stretched between the Philippines and Hoosick Falls, NY (where Mom was born). While I don’t recall experiencing many incidents of overtly racist behavior toward us, I sense now that part of that was the financial privilege we enjoyed from Dad’s work as an anesthesiologist and Mom’s work as a nursing professor. The middle-class comfort we enjoyed likely acted as a buffer against more obvious forms of racism. We were exceedingly lucky that way, and so we were largely able to embrace and celebrate our heritage in our dinners of pancit and bowls of asado. Because of that, our Filipino background never seemed to be a source of pride or of shame, and we rather easily assimilated into America, an act which carried its own sense of dissolving and dissolution. Only lately have I begun to see the importance of retaining our stories of origin, and sharing these with others.

When it comes to fanfare and self-celebration, I sort of feel like I get enough of that here on this blog, but perhaps I don’t focus on my ethnic background as much as I should. Part of it may be that I’ve taken the American celebration of the individual to heart. So when the agency at which I work, the Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC), began seeking out employees to be featured for AAPI Heritage Month, I didn’t even think of submitting my name. Instead, I sought out others to celebrate, but it wasn’t easy. My work on diversity and inclusion was challenging and exciting, yet could be frustrating as well. It was new to many of us, and finding our way with sensitivity was proving tough, as much as our little advances were rewarding.

As we were struggling to find willing participants to represent the AAPI employees at DEC, I eventually realized I had to step up for this month and my own Filipino heritage, of which I’ve always been rather quietly proud, following in the example of my own father, and my mother’s insistence on us learning that indelible part of our origin. It also helped illuminate the representation for Southeast Asia, illustrating how AAPI Heritage Month included more than those with origins in China and Japan. (You may visit our agency’s public website and view my brief bio here, as well as read about some of my outstanding AAPI co-workers.)

While such heritage month celebrations usually rely on the lighter aspects of our culture – food and costume and artistic contributions – they resonate in deeper ways today. When the world encroaches with yet another incident of racial hatred, and acts of violence against Asian Americans grow in number and viciousness, I’m reminded that not everyone had the privileges I was and am afforded. I’m also reminded of the perils of racism, whether overt or latent or unintended, and I want us all to do better. To that end we celebrate May as Asian American – Pacific Islander Heritage Month.

“For Filipino Americans, it’s a battle for recognition, for identity in a culture where, for the mainstream, Asians tend to fade into a monochromatic racialized ‘other.'” – Jose Antonio Vargas

“Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time. Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, the only fact we have. It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death–ought to decide, indeed, to earn one’s death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life. One is responsible for life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return.” ~ James Baldwin

“I was going to die, sooner or later, whether or not I had even spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silences will not protect you… What are the words you do not yet have? What are the tyrannies you swallow day by day and attempt to make your own, until you will sicken and die of them, still in silence? We have been socialized to respect fear more than our own need for language.

I began to ask each time: “What’s the worst that could happen to me if I tell this truth?” Unlike women in other countries, our breaking silence is unlikely to have us jailed, “disappeared” or run off the road at night. Our speaking out will irritate some people, get us called bitchy or hypersensitive and disrupt some dinner parties. And then our speaking out will permit other women to speak, until laws are changed and lives are saved and the world is altered forever.

Next time, ask: What’s the worst that will happen? Then push yourself a little further than you dare. Once you start to speak, people will yell at you. They will interrupt you, put you down and suggest it’s personal. And the world won’t end.

And the speaking will get easier and easier. And you will find you have fallen in love with your own vision, which you may never have realized you had. And you will lose some friends and lovers, and realize you don’t miss them. And new ones will find you and cherish you. And you will still flirt and paint your nails, dress up and party, because, as I think Emma Goldman said, “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be part of your revolution.” And at last you’ll know with surpassing certainty that only one thing is more frightening than speaking your truth. And that is not speaking.” ~ Audre Lorde

A Litany for Survival

For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures
like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours:

For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid

So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.” 
? Audre Lorde

“When you’re depressed, you get trapped inside yourself and lose the energy to take the actions that might make you feel better. You hate yourself for that. You see the suffering of others but feel incapable of helping them, and that makes you hate yourself, too. The hate makes you sadder, the sadness makes you more helpless, the helplessness fills you with more self-hate… Working… broke that cycle for me. I wasn’t sitting home thinking endlessly about what a failure I was; I was doing something, something that actually helped people. The more I did, the more I could do, the more I wanted to do, the more I saw needed to be done.” ~ Leymah Gbowee

“It is our duty to stand up for humanity. Step in and correct things that are wrong.” ~ Leymah Gbowee

“You can tell the people of the need to struggle, but when the powerless start to see that they really can make a difference, nothing can quench the fire.” ~ Leymah Gbowee

‘I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.

Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed–

I, too, am America.’ ~ Langston Hughes

“Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed –
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.”

“Knowledge is the prime need of the hour.” ~  Mary McLeod Bethune

“If we accept and acquiesce in the face of discrimination, we accept the responsibility ourselves. We should, therefore, protest openly everything … that smacks of discrimination or slander.” ~ Mary McLeod Bethune

“To those of you with your years of service still ahead, the challenge is yours. Stop doubting yourselves. Have the courage to make up your minds and hold your decisions. Refuse to be bought for a nickel, or a million dollars, or a job!” ~ Mary McLeod Bethune

“Forgiving is not about forgetting, it’s letting go of the hurt.” ~ Mary McLeod Bethune

“I leave you love. I leave you hope. I leave you the challenge of developing confidence in one another. I leave you a thirst for education. I leave you a respect for the use of power. I leave you faith. I leave you racial dignity. I leave you a desire to live harmoniously with your fellow men. I leave you finally, a responsibility to our young people.” ~ Mary McLeod Bethune

“Cease to be a drudge, seek to be an artist.” – Mary McLeod Bethune

“Never limit yourself because of others’ limited imagination; never limit others because of your own limited imagination.” – Dr. Mae Jemison

“Sciences provide an understanding of a universal experience, Arts are a universal understanding of a personal experience… they are both a part of us and a manifestation of the same thing… the arts and sciences are avatars of human creativity” – Dr. Mae Jemison

“Don’t let anyone rob you of your imagination, your creativity, or your curiosity. It’s your place in the world; it’s your life. Go on and do all you can with it, and make it the life you want to live.” – Dr. Mae Jemison

“Once I got into space, I was feeling very comfortable in the universe. I felt like I had a right to be anywhere in this universe, that I belonged here as much as any speck of stardust, any comet, any planet.” – Dr. Mae Jemison

“You have the right to be involved. You have something important to contribute, and you have to take the risk to contribute it.” – Dr. Mae Jemison

“I remember during Easter one year, I was to get a pair of black patent shoes but you could only get them from the white stores, so my mother drew the outline of my feet on a brown paper bag in order to get the closest size, because we weren’t allowed to go in the store to try them on.” – Claudette Colvin

“Back then, as a teenager, I kept thinking, why don’t the adults around here just say something? Say it so they know we don’t accept segregation? I knew then and I know now that, when it comes to justice, there’s no easy way to get it. You can’t sugarcoat it. You have to take a stand and say, ‘This is not right.'” – Claudette Colvin

“As long as white people put people of color, African Americans and Latinos, in the same dispensable bag, and look at our children of color as insignificant and treat women of color as not as deserving of protection as white women, we will never achieve true equality.” – Claudette Colvin

“When our founding fathers drafted the Constitution and Bill of Rights, black people weren’t even considered human.” – Claudette Colvin