“I’m worrying less about me getting sick and worrying more about me, my sister, my mom, and my friends getting attacked. #TheOnlyAsianInTheRoom,” I wrote on Canvas for one of my classes this semester.
The professor — who started every Monday evening class with a breathless spiel about how his friend’s tween son died from the flu, and how we need to stock up on canned food, hand sanitizer, toilet paper, bottled water — made me want to scream calm down!
I never screamed in class, but when he asked us to please check in on Canvas, I thought I would make myself loud and clear. (I ended up texting a friend for moral support right before posting.)
I am scared of being attacked because I am Asian.
Ten hours after my post, my professor replied, “I hope they’re doing okay!”
I wasn’t surprised, just disappointed. His words were weak, apathetic, and plain. What made matters worse, though, was that no one else talked about it.
Except for one girl. Not three hours after my response, she wrote, “@Christine, thank you for your post! It’s so important when discussing COVID to also discuss the racist/xenophobic rhetoric surrounding the disease. It separates fact from fiction, but most importantly, keeps people safe from racist attacks that have occurred right in our campus.”
It was clear that she thought before she spoke (typed?). Not only was she empathetic, but she was also on point (shout-out to Cate!). In times like these, we desperately need to think before we act, especially when it comes to impacting those around us.
The class was every Monday evening. Every person in the room could leave at around 8 p.m. with little or no concern for their safety. Not me. Not since Valentine’s Day, the day we got an email about an Asian girl getting punched outside Wendy’s. I passed it everyday, and I continued to pass it everyday. Back then, Asians were getting punched for wearing masks. Now, Asians are getting punched for not wearing masks.
The underlying truth is, Asians are getting punched for being Asian.
I’m lucky. I was avoided in the subway, on the street, at Starbucks. I was yelled at from six feet away, not six inches from my face. My friends weren’t lucky. They were screamed at, shoved, shunned, or worse. Most of us, including myself, aren’t Chinese.
Tuesday mornings, I had another professor who repeatedly coughed into her hand. The first time she did it, she held it up for all to see and declared, “Don’t worry, I’ve never been to China!” I can still hear her voice, her ridiculous pride in executing that joke. I wish that joke, among others, would die off.
My friends and I are afraid to cough in public. It’s irrational, but I even get a little mad when I see non-Asians coughing in public, especially when they don’t cough into their elbows. They’re not afraid. Why would they be? Trump never called it the “outside-of-China-too” virus.
That friend I texted for moral support? We both ended up posting to Instagram about the racism and xenophobia surrounding the disease, and for weeks afterward, that was all we talked about. I’m Korean, but it’s always been 50/50: half the people I meet say I look Korean. The other half say I look Chinese. More and more people say I look Chinese now.
For most of us, this is the first time we’ve been racially profiled.
It’s not just my classmates and professors who aren’t talking about the racism and xenophobia going around, but mainstream news in general. I see posts online about Asians – young, old, male, female – getting targeted in the U.S., Europe, Australia, even Asia.
Some are called chink or ching chong. Some are coughed on or sneezed on. Some are slapped or kicked. Some are chased down or sprayed with Purell. Some are robbed. Some are stabbed.
Some restaurants suffered long before the lockdowns. Some markets are fully stocked and suffering because no one is shopping/stocking there. Some doctors are being rejected on sight.
The people expressing the racist and xenophobic sentiments aren’t scared of Asians. If they were scared of them, scared of the coronavirus, then they wouldn’t be touching them at all. They’re using the coronavirus as an excuse to act out.
I like my other professors, but they haven’t addressed any of the racism or xenophobia, either. One, I thought, got close. She assigned a New Yorker article for us to read. I held my breath at the line, “After 9/11, it was the Middle Eastern and South Asian taxi-drivers who suddenly became visible, lining their cabs with American flags for fear of being taken for jihadis.” Adam Gopnik went on to talk about delivery men.
Right now, it’s the East and Southeast Asian men, women, and children who are visible. Taxi-drivers drive past us, for “fear” of catching Trump’s so-called China virus.
I’m at home now, scrolling through Instagram and Buzzfeed and Webtoon. I’m scared to leave. I’m scared of getting attacked, scared for my brother, my sister, my parents who are in their 60’s and cannot speak English fluently. I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact that in February, Lana Condor was promoting the “To All the Boys” sequel. In April, she’s promoting awareness against anti-Asian hate crimes.
Wash your hands and don’t be a racist.
(I wrote this piece from home — Anaheim, California. It was the first time I felt safe in months.)