As the second post on my new blog, this topic is rather heavy. In the past year violence against Black Americans in the United States has seemed to increase, with news of yet more police shootings or brutal police behavior appearing in the news at least a few times a month. In the past week alone, there have been at least two fatal police encounters resulting in the death of Black men. It is NOT the case that violence against our fellow Black Americans have increased in the past couple of years; it IS the case that violence and prejudice against our fellow Black Americans have never truly subsided. It has just been more visible due to the advent of smartphones with cameras and the internet; the violence is just more visible to more people.
But this increased visibility has shown us that violence and death is not the most tragic thing that has occurred to our fellow Americans. To me, the most tragic thing is that despite all the evidence, all the coverage, all the voices of our fellow Black Americans telling us that this terrible thing is happening to them, and has been happening for generations on American soil, in the land of the free, THEIR VOICES ARE NOT BEING HEARD. What is tragic is that for many other Americans of Color in the United States, and I mean many in the Asian community (especially, from my experience, older Chinese immigrants and older generations of Chinese Americans) cannot set aside their own prejudices and see that our fellow Black Americans are no different from all the rest of us. We are racist, too.
As an Asian American, and especially as a first generation Chinese American, it pains me to see that my friends and fellow citizens suffer from such discrimination and racism. It angers me that my parents and grandparents, my aunts and uncles, have such superficial and prejudiced views against people whom I grew up with, went to school with and work with, that I call my friends, my family. But no amount of discussions or arguments or reasoning seem to be able to change their stubborn views and fears. It certainly doesn't help that my Chinese was basic at best and that I did not have the vocabulary to truly convey my views and feelings.
Whenever I read about another shooting or another instance of brutality against Black America, I am saddened and angered. I want to lash out at the governments, institutions and prejudices that allow this to continue to happen, over and over again. But I never know what I could do that will make any significant difference, that will not diminish the voices of my fellow Black Americans. After all, their experiences are not my experiences and their history is not my history.
But their anger is my anger and their fight can be my fight, too. I don't have to shed silent tears of sadness and anger.
This piece has gone on longer than I expected it to be when I first started writing it. It was meant as a prelude to a crowd-sourced letter that has emerged out of a collaboration by people of many backgrounds, people who care about the Black Lives Matter movement. I felt that, when I learned about this letter, there is finally something I can do to help, no matter how small my contribution: I can share this letter with my family, with my parents and in-laws, and try to help them understand the importance of caring about this movement, of caring about what happens to our fellow Americans.
A few weeks ago, my father called me up on the phone to complain about a tenant renting one of the apartments in his house. The tenant is Korean, staying in the U.S. as a law school student. She had been renting the apartment since before my parents purchased the property some months ago. The reason for my father's complaint was that she now has a live-in boyfriend, and he is black. Without learning anything about her new roommate and boyfriend, he tells me that she is going to be trouble, simply because she invited her black boyfriend to live with her, simply because her boyfriend is black. As I rolled my eyes during the conversation, I tried once again to convince him that he has no basis for his prejudiced opinions, and once again he was not completely convinced. I am hoping that this letter, the Chinese translation of which I have shared with him, and which is far more articulate than I could ever be, will, at the very least, open up his mind just a little bit and perhaps help him to rethink his views.
Here is the letter: https://lettersforblacklives.com/dear-mom-dad-uncle-auntie-black-lives-matter-to-us-too-7ca577d59f4c#.d4uwva87p
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