My Asian Experience

Like many people across the United States and around the world, my heart is heavy in the aftermath of the racially-motivated killing of half a dozen massage spa workers this past week. I wish that I could say that I was stunned as recent events unfolded. I truly wish that I could say that this was a tremendous shock to me. Unfortunately, just like many women of Asian descent in this country, I have stories about how I have felt unsafe or othered for being Asian.

If anyone reading this knows me personally (and, let's face it: this is a personal blog, so most of you probably know me personally), you likely know me as someone who tries to be lighthearted and kind as often as possible. I try incredibly hard to try to understand where another person is coming from, even when I feel personally wronged by them. I was raised to think that way by my incredible, talented, smart, and brave Asian mother. It doesn't matter what happens, she is constantly reminding me that I don't know everyone's story and that I can't judge them based on a small interaction I have with them. 

By and large, I agree with her approach and do what I can to empathize with others. I think that's something that has helped me both personally and professionally. However, there are some times when I have to absolutely draw a line and as of this week I've hit my limit.

I grew up in a very white, generally religious and conservative area of Eastern Washington. When I say that, I mean "30-40 minutes away from a well-known very active neo-nazi compound in Idaho" Eastern Washington. I'm unsure how aware my peers were of that fact growing up, but I always knew to look out for the signs of skinheads and other "race warriors" when I was out in public. My mother even sat me down at one point before a field trip my class was taking over to Idaho and told me that if I encountered one of Them (I already knew what that meant), to let them think that I was Native American since there were a number of local tribes in the area. The explanation? "If you're Native American they will think that you are like an animal and beneath them. You could get lucky and have them ignore you. If they know you're mixed race they will want to eliminate (kill) you because they will see you as inhuman and unclean." Heavy stuff for a kid in elementary school.

One of my first experiences with racism was in Kindergarten when we were learning to read. Our teacher would have everyone's name on a piece of paper that would be taped to another kids back. We then walked around the classroom showing our classmates the name and asking identifying questions in order to try to guess who we were. The most common question was, "Am I a girl/boy?" The second most common question was, "Do my eyes look like this?" as they pulled back the corners of their eyes until they could barely see. This starts young. My classmates never felt that they needed to know more than what my eyes looked like in order to know who I was. 

I've shared this story a number of times and some of the feedback I've received was along the lines of, "It was just kids," and "They didn't know any better." Sometimes I've heard something worse: "That's at least pretty harmless." Spoiler alert: it's not. 

I was an incredibly awkward kid with intense undiagnosed social anxiety growing up. I found it painfully difficult to make or keep friends. Between fourth and sixth grade I stopped having birthday parties because even if people had been invited, I didn't know if anyone would actually show up or, if they did, if they were only there because their parents told them they had to go in order to be polite.

Fortunately, my parents found out that I enjoyed sports and we were fortunate enough to be able to afford to sign up for a bunch of seasonal sports teams. I was grateful because at least when we were on a team together most of the time my classmates would at least try to be nice to me. Coaches generally frown on bullying teammates. Generally. 

The problem with having coaches that are supposed to stop things like bullying is that sometimes coaches don't realize that they are the ones doing or enabling the bullying. I played softball and took great pride in being our team's best pitcher for a few years. In order to be fair to all of the players, after you played a few innings in the infield, you also had to go play in the boring outfield where you hoped that there was a convenient patch of blooming clover so that you could make yourself a clover wreath while you waited for the inning to finish. Every time I went into the outfield, I was always put in the position that was facing directly or almost directly into the sun. I complained to my coach about this and asked why he always did that. I said that I would voluntarily play right field (the boring-est of boring positions) so long as I could occasionally not have to stare into the glare of the sun. Coach Jim got down to my level and said simply, "It's easier for you than the other girls." A few seconds of my utterly confused face prompted him to elaborate: "You're already squinting."

Thanks to my optimistic mother, my first thought was, "Ah, that makes sense. I'm just naturally built for this kind of environment." After all, adults, especially teachers and coaches, are always doing their best to be nice, right? They would never do anything that would harm a kid under their care. My dad was there and heard this exchange and just about choked in shock. He later pulled the coach aside and told him that his comments were inappropriate and that he should never say that to me again. I still stared into the sun from the outfield for the rest of the season.

There are numerous other stories I have about facing these kinds of microaggressions (and not-so-microaggressions) growing up. There was the kid who proudly talked about joining the Aryan Brotherhood that ended up being assigned as my lab partner in Biology. The numerous boys who called me "exotic" in order to give me a compliment (while telling all the other girls how beautiful or pretty they were). There was "Asian row" in math class where the teacher sat all four of the Asian kids together no matter how many new seating charts they made. I could tell you about the time that I was offered a job at a strip club because, "Our Asian girl just moved to LA and if you came to work there we could bring back Exotics Nights on Thursdays!"

I left for college and ended up going to college in Seattle. This was in the early days of social media where facebook was still mostly a networking platform for college students and you needed a college email account to set up a profile. I had a very limited profile with the basic profile picture that was actually a picture from my senior year in high school. I didn't have a wide network, just people who I met and knew in real life (which is still pretty much the case to this day). The messaging feature, however, was one where a friend of a friend could reach out to you to connect. 

A friend of a friend reached out to me one day and asked if I would go out on a date with them. I told them I didn't know them and that I wasn't really interested in dating (it was only my freshman or sophomore year, after all). They kept pushing and asking why I wouldn't give them a chance and eventually I asked them to please stop sending me messages. Within hours of the last message I sent, I began getting phone calls from strange men wanting a "happy ending" massage. Turns out that this guy had found my cell phone number (probably from the student directory) and posted an ad on craigslist saying, "Cute Asian girl looking to give happy ending massages." It took far longer than it should have to have the ad taken down and it was impossible to get anyone to do anything about the incident. I called local police and they said they couldn't do anything about a "harmless prank". I contacted the student services at the university and they said that it was "impossible to prove" that this kid posted the ad even though I had clear documentation that this ad was posted from a computer that had his IP address. 

I cannot tell you how terrifying the next few weeks were. I came back to my room once to find a note shoved under my door saying that I deserved getting raped for trying to report him to the university. I got a few random late-night calls from guys making sex noises and saying, "Sucky sucky! Me love you long time!" I didn't report any of these things as I had already learned that there was no protection for me. I didn't even tell my parents because I didn't want them to worry. The worst of it was when I ran into the mutual friend on campus. I hadn't told them about the incident with their friend because I didn't want them to get mad at me. They invited me to a party that weekend and said that a friend of theirs had noticed me a few weeks back and had been bugging them to officially introduce us ever since. I bet you can guess who the guy was. 

My stomach dropped straight into my shoes as soon as I realized who the person was that wanted the "official introduction." The friend left us alone to "get to know each other" and I was so afraid to do or say anything. He started the conversation with, "Now you actually know me, cute Asian girl. Will you finally go out with me?" I don't remember how I got out of the situation, but I remember crying myself to sleep that night. 

Almost a year ago I ventured out from my apartment in North Seattle to get teriyaki from a local family-run restaurant. I knew they were struggling to get by with the recent stay home orders and there were a number of minor vandalisms that they had had to pay for. While I was leaving the parking lot and making my way to the crosswalk, a white man and woman followed me for a little bit and said loudly, "I thought they told all the Asian kids to go home." I had ventured out of my apartment for the first time in weeks and this is what I emerged to. I told them off and walked away in a hurry. I proudly told my parents about how I stood up for myself later and my dad praised my gumption, but my mom said, "You should have just walked away. You never know if they have a gun."

All of these thoughts and experiences have come flooding back to me over the past few days and it all feels terribly overwhelming. I am not sure how to process all that I am feeling or the grief that I feel for members within my own community as we adjust to this latest event in a long line of racially-driven hate. For some of us, this is the first time that we have felt this level of hatred hit so close to home. For others, this all feels like just one more day of the kind of sentiments that we have come to expect and have had to learn to deal with for our entire lives. 

I try to remember that I come from a long line of women who were strong an resilient. My great grandmother who came to America as a picture bride and managed to hold the family together through the Internment. My grandmother who raised six kids on a farm and helped to take care of the generation before her as they reached old age. My mother, the first in her family to get a college education and who also did a hell of a job raising two bi-racial kids in a time and place where it wasn't always safe for them to exist. 

I'm confident that I will eventually emerge stronger and more resilient than ever. I'm still motivated to work toward making great change. I will stand in solidarity with all of my brothers and sisters (and any other folks not part of the gender binary) in all marginalized communities every single time that I see or hear of the latest injustice that has happened. Today, though, I mourn and I do what little I can within my own community to support them in their grief. 

Singles Mixers. I'm Bad at Them.

A good friend of mine took me to a singles mixer event last Friday night. Normally mixers of any sort aren't really my thing. I identify strongly as an introvert. My ideal evening is staying in and working on an arts and crafts project, writing, drawing, reading, binging on Netflix, or just spending time with my marvelous cat, Magellan (pictured below).

 

However, this time I figured that I would give it a go. After all, almost everything is worth trying once, right? Plus, it's always better when you go with a friend.

The beginning of the event started off well enough. There seemed to be a good number of people there and a nice mix of genders, preferences, and ages. I've done speed dating before (again, almost everything is worth trying once) and it was fairly exhausting. I'd compare it to a round-robin of job interviews, but for dating purposes. This was, thankfully, different.

At first there was a little bit of mingling and then we were asked to break up into small groups. The person orchestrating the event had a number of prompts that they picked from and had each group share their answers with one another. After you answered the first question and talked with your group mates, we were told to mix it up and find a new group. Topics ranged from "what's one thing that someone should know about you before hanging out?" (my favorite answer came from a guy who said, "if I could be anything, I'd want to be a connoisseur of french fries. You want to know anything about any french fries anywhere in town, I'm your man.") to "tell someone about one of your favorite people" (I talked about my brother because he's smart and talented and rad).

Unfortunately, I discovered that I'm not very good at following mixer instructions.

Question: "What's your favorite feeling?"

My group stared awkwardly at each other for a few breaths and so I just jumped in with, "I like feeling full. Not to the point where you're stuffed and one more bite may rupture something, but, you know, just perfectly full."

Cue group looking at me like I'm a lunatic before the next person said, "I like when I'm extremely happy about something, like when I find a perfect gift for someone for their birthday." The following person jumped in with, "I like that feeling of joy when you've done something good for someone without expecting anything in return."

It was at this point where I realized that perhaps we were supposed to talk about EMOTIONS feelings, not physical sensations. My bad.

I swore I would do better the next time.

Question: "If you were a season, what season would you be?"

This one got me pretty excited. Once more, my group wasn't saying anything, but I knew better than to go first. I'd already made that mistake. Finally, someone pointed at me and said, "How about you go first?"

Here goes nothing, I thought as I proudly said, "I'd be soccer season." I glanced around at a circle of blank faces. "Uh," I stammered, "but I would definitely be EPL season because Liverpool is my favorite team and I love playing soccer." More blank expressions.

I finished weakly with, "EPL? English Premier League? Anyone? No? Just me? Okay, someone else please go."

Everyone else in the group agreed that they would be fall/autumn because of the smell of fresh rain and the feeling of great unbridled potential when fall came around. I wanted to slink away in embarrassment.

I tried to play it safe with my answers for the rest of the evening and I think I did a decent job. There were no other incidents that made me want to crawl underneath something and hide. At least not for a little while.

The end of the evening was approaching and we were told to get a piece of paper out.  We were going to do a stream of consciousness exercise. For those of you that aren't familiar with this concept, when you write stream of consciousness, you kinda write whatever pops into your mind. To start us off, we were told that our first words would be "here's what I love..."

After three minutes of writing we were told to underline three of our favorite sentences because we would be reading them out loud to the whole group from the stage at the front of the room. I chuckled, fully expecting to hear some hilarious material. I was wrong. Pretty much everyone said something like, "I love going on adventures and experiencing new things. I want to cook new and exciting dishes and to fully embrace life." I dunno. It was all very grownup-ish and responsible.

This is what I wrote (I underlined the three sentences that I read on stage):

Here's what I love...about circles: They are round. Like, super duper round. The roundest. The most roundful. Is 'roundful' a word? You won't find anything more round-like than a circle. Also, hula hoops are circles and you haven't known true joy until you've seen a soccer dad try to keep up with his eight or nine year old child in a viral hula hoop video. You know what else you find in viral videos? Cats. Lots of them. Cats make up about 93% of the internet and they love it. You know what else cats love? Circles. There are lots of viral videos about cats sitting in circles drawn on the floor. Look it up. Cats like circles almost as much as boxes. I don't think cats like anything more than a box. Maybe using their little murder mitts (otherwise known as stabby/pokey toe beans) to try to chase and kill the little red dot.

I'm pretty sure there were a few chuckles throughout the room, but I felt more than a little ridiculous for not having put something more mature or something like everyone else had. Of course, this may also go a long way towards explaining why I'm still single. So there you have it. My very own spectacular singles mixer Hindenburg. Not sure if there will be a next time, but at least I have another funny story that I can blog about.

Have some more pictures of Magellan because she's a great cat. Not great at hiding, but a great cat.

 

Worst Date Ever

I've been told by many people that my dating standards are too high. I've also been told that I need to be more willing to put myself out there and give people a chance. I'm over it.

It started harmlessly enough. I don't "swipe right" on people very often, but figured that I might as well give this guy a chance. He seemed fit, had a job, and attended Yale (I would have preferred that he had a public education, but I wasn't going to split hairs over it). He was smiling in his profile pictures, showed a variety of activities, and they weren't all selfies. I asked multiple people, including my roommate who I trust intrinsically with these things, and they all said that there were no red flags when they looked at the profile. One coworker even said that she thought he was very cute and she was excited to hear how things went.

We decided to meet up on Friday after work. The guy first suggested that we meet up at 5:30. I explained that I don't generally get home until 5:30 because I bus to work (that's a lie: I usually don't leave work until 6 or 6:30, sometimes later because my job should really be done by 1.5 people, but I didn't want to come across as a workaholic). 

At this point I was a little annoyed. I had already told him that I bus to work. This whole message seemed off and, frankly, a little annoying. If I wanted to come straight from work, I would. Also, there wasn't anything in his profile that made me want to come running to his arms. In fact, if I had been asked to rate his profile, I'd say he was middle-of-the-pack.

But maybe this was just a case of me reading too much into a simple text message. He could have been trying to be helpful rather than annoying, right? Perhaps he was simply trying to clumsily express enthusiasm for our impending date. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Eventually I proposed meeting up at 7:30. 

I looked at this guys profile again. He's from India, so maybe this weird vibe I was getting was just a language barrier issue. It's difficult to get your meaning across if you're speaking a second or third language. Plus, people have told me to be less judge-y. I turned off the warning alarms in my head and told myself that I should give him a chance. After all, once I saw him face-to-face things could be completely different. Some people just suck at communicating via text/email. 

By some miracle, I arrived early. Like, SUPER early. This is not a thing that I generally do. Note the time stamp:

My thought process: He's probably on his way here. Maybe he's driving and didn't really read my text. Don't judge him too harshly. First dates are always a little bit awkward.

Eventually we connected and ordered drinks. We each paid for our own beverages, which is something that I don't really take issue with. I feel like it's common enough for people to need to go on a lot of first dates with people and I don't think that it should be assumed that one party or the other should automatically pay. However, after this guy started talking I had to admit that I really wish that he had paid for my drink. With the garbage coming out of his mouth, I should have been compensated in SOME way.

We both mentioned different athletic activities and how drinking would be less advisable for some activities than others. Rock climbing? Yeah, probably not a great idea to pre-game. Horseback riding? Depends on the type of riding I suppose. 

Date: I worked with horses before. There were a lot of people that would take a shot before getting on a horse.
Me: That seems like it could be a very Bad Idea, depending on what kind of riding you were doing.
Date: Well, most of the people where I worked were doing dressage.
Me: [blank stare] I have no idea what that is.
Date: Really? Oh, just you wait. I'll have to educate you on it at some point.

I really should have just run away at this point, but of course I didn't. I just kept telling myself not to judge him too harshly and to keep an open mind. After all, he was probably surrounded by richie riches at Yale who did ridiculously expensive activities like horseback riding on the weekends or whatever, right?

We sat. Things. Got. Worse.

I'll sum up some of the topics covered:

On taxes:

Date: Any logical, rational person would be against paying taxes. No one wants to pay taxes. Do you like paying taxes?
Me: Uh, yes. I don't like being surrounded by idiots, so I enjoy paying taxes to support public education. And I don't want my house to burn down, so I like paying firemen. And I want someone to respond when I call 9-1-1, so I want to pay for cops to help me if I'm assaulted somewhere.
Date: Well you're an exception. And your taxes go to a lot of other things. Like, I don't have kids. Why should I pay for someone else's kids to go to school? I worked really hard and put myself through Yale. Anyone can do that if they work hard enough.
Me: So you aren't surrounded by stupid people? So you have an educated workforce from which to hire people?
Date: Anyone can get an education if they are willing to work for it. I worked my ass off and got myself into Yale.

On systematic oppression:

Date: If you are truly driven to succeed, you will be able to do it. It doesn't matter what obstacles you face. If I have learned one thing it's that anyone can succeed if they work hard enough at it.
Me: Yeah, no. That kind of 'pull yourself up by your own bootstraps' argument isn't reality.
Date: I did it. My mom worked for 80 cents a day in India. I worked incredibly hard and got into Yale. I took out $175k in student loans and paid it back with 9% interest because I was driven to succeed. Anyone can do it.
Me: But you are one out of thousands of people that are trying to succeed. You can't believe that it's solely a matter of effort. There are thousands of people just like you that are doing everything that they can to be successful and they haven't had the same luck you have.
Date: Did you know there's only a 7% acceptance rate at Yale? Of course not everyone can get in, but if you work hard enough you will be successful. I did.
Me: You seem to be missing the point I'm trying to make. I don't doubt that you worked incredibly hard and against very long odds to get to where you are. However, you can't think that there aren't people out there willing to work just as hard as you do, but things just don't work out for them.
Date: No, if you work hard enough anything is possible. If I can do it, anyone can do it.

On the foster system:

Me: But what about the people who aren't set up to succeed early on? Take, for example, kids in the foster system. They didn't choose to be in a situation where their biological parents were unable to care for them. They are at such a distinct disadvantage and the state doesn't have the resources to take care of their needs in order to allow them to be successful.
Date: Look, why should it be my responsibility to take care of someone else's kids? There are people out there who are having five or six kids and then letting the state take care of them. Those people should be put in jail.
Me: In jail. You're joking.
Date: No, they should. Stupid people should not be allowed to have kids. Why should I have to pay to take care of their kids when they are too lazy to do it?
Me: They aren't too lazy. Also, you aren't paying to raise their kids. Do you realize just how under-funded the foster care system is? These often severely traumatized kids need so many resources just to bring them to a place where they are on par with their peers. Your solution to this is to sterilize the parents? What does that do? And how does that help the kids who are already in the system?
Date: I grew up eating rice and salt for two meals a day and I worked hard and put myself through Yale. The government takes care of kids in the foster system. I didn't have that. My mom made 80 cents a day. Now me and my brothers send money back to help take care of her. They [foster kids] can go to school and the state takes care of them. If they work hard enough, they can be successful.
Me: No, we really don't. Washington State doesn't have an income tax and you were just telling me how no reasonable person would want to pay taxes.

On drug addiction:

Date: Why should I pay more money for someone else's bad choices?
Me: You think that drug addiction is a choice?
Date: Yes.
Me: Wow. That is the most impressive display of complete ignorance that I've seen in a long time. You have absolutely zero understanding of any of the root causes or continuing issues surrounding the problem of addiction.
Date: Hey, I've had friends addicted to things. I've done a lot of reading on it.
Me: But clearly learned nothing from any of the reading you've allegedly done. Good job, analytics boy. [Note: he works in data analytics for a major telecom company]

On employment:

Date: You know, I was unemployed for a full year and the only thing that kept me going was my savings. I had $400,000 saved up and just used the interest from my savings to pay for what I needed.
Me: Well, you're very lucky that you had that option.
Date: I worked really hard for it.
Me: I'm sure you did, but you are also very lucky that you are in a position where that's possible. Most people I know just have to look for whatever job they can find to make ends meet, me included.
Date: Hey, all else equal, if you and I were to go for a job, you would get it.
Me: What? Why?
Date: You're a woman. I've seen it happen. If there are two people that are up for a position it goes to the minority every time.
Me: OMG. I honestly don't even know where to start on this.

At one point, my date asked me, "So what do you think? How are you feeling about how things are going?"

My response: "You're an asshole."

[slight pause] "I guess I can see why you might think that, from your perspective."

I've literally known white supremacists with more compassion and empathy than this guy showed during our date. It was a complete disaster. I lost count of how many times he mentioned that he attended Yale. Did you know that Yale only accepts 7% of applicants? I didn't catch that tidbit the first six times he mentioned it, but I got it on the seventh.

My one regret: I should have actually asked him "Are you a sociopath?" If he said "no," I would have said, "That's exactly what a sociopath would say." If he said "yes," I would have said, "Well at least you're honest. I can respect that."

To add further insult here, he literally told me that he thinks that I have "the right kind of mind" to be able to converse about these sophisticated topics, but that I need the right training. Basically, "You're almost there, but not quite." I don't think that I've ever met someone more arrogant, condescending, and laughably naive in my life.

No more dates for me. Ever. Never ever ever.

The cherry on top:

Kill me please.

Update (two days later): He's still texting me.

Enough is Enough

I'm over it. No more listening politely when people try to twist history to fit their narrative. No more justifying my perspective without also requiring them to justify theirs. No more putting up with this "fake facts" bullshit. I'm done.

A conversation I had earlier today on Facebook:

Them: what is one right that stops the government from changing any right we have

Me: I don't know what you're talking about. Literally the entire structure of our government is designed to prevent that from happening in the first place

Them: "there is something that actually allows them to do it. but they can't because of a right we have."

Me: I cannot fathom what you think allows them to fundamentally change the structure of our government

Them: its with in the bill of rights i use to know it by heart.

Me: [does a recap of all ten amendments in the Bill of Rights] So where in that list does it allow the government to change our government system in order to explicitly deny the citizenry of their rights?

Them: i will look for it.

Me: That's literally the list of all of the amendments in the Bill of Rights

Them: its not in the constitution

Me: You told me that it's in the Bill of Rights. Where is it if it isn't there?

Them: like i said i will have to look for it.

Me: Pretty sure laws cannot supersede the BoR

Them: it was something that got past some where.

Me: Well, let me know when you find it

Them: i will [insert long pause here] but the one thing that the government fears when they do try to do it is the 2nd amendment. but if you restrict things to the point where you can only own a pistol there really isn't anything that stops them. except for whats already out there.

Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Them: it's an increasing possibility.

Me: I didn't realize that you drank so much of the kool-aid

Them: historically its happen. where people have rights similar to here along with the structure similar to the constitution. slowly those rights were being taken away or highly regulated. or completely stripped.

Me: Yeah, funny story: none of the gun owners stood up against it before. So why would it be any different now? Because I can tell you right now that when my family was forced into internment camps, there were no guys with guns there to protect them from the Big Bad Gub'ment

Them: it was conveyed as a threat to national security.

Me: Uh-huh. And NUMEROUS authorities said otherwise. There was NO EVIDENCE that there was any actual threat from the Japanese American community.

Them: "also sold as protection" the Germans where intern as well.

Me: Honey, don't try to pull that on me. Yes, Germans were put into camps, but they weren't systematically removed FROM THE ENTIRE WEST COAST

Them: because there wasn't a lot of them that were on the west coast.

Me: Germans?

Them: yep

Me: Honey, Germans are EVERYWHERE

Them: during that period of time. everyone we fought against during the war was in a camp at some point.

Me: So what you're saying is that because a few Germans were scooped up, some of whom WERE attempting espionage, the forcible relocation of over 100,000 persons of a specific ethnicity (none of whom were EVER tied to subversive activity) is justified?

Them: some people weren't even Germans or Italians it was racial profiling at it's finest. but people tried to stand up for not interning the races because a lot of them were born here. but they were thrown in there with them. alot of mixed race families and Philippians were thrown into camps as well.

Me: Also, over 80% of the Japanese Americans put into those internment camps were natural born US citizens and had never even been to Japan. I would like you to provide me with ANY evidence that there was protest outside of the Asian American community when persons of Japanese ancestry were interned.

Them: people still stood up for them. maybe not with guns but a voice. they probably didn't even make the paper.

Me: Prove it. If people gave even HALF a shit about their Japanese American neighbors being forced into government-sponsored internment camps in the middle of nowhere, USA, there would be some record of it.

So prove it.

I dare you.


At this point there was a solid 6-7 minutes with no response. I was still pretty heated about this, so I added:

How about this: you find that bit of legal documentation that you think allows the government to arbitrarily take away the rights of US citizens. Then you find proof that people were in any way vocal in protesting the Internment. After that, you can explain to me why you think that the historical precedent of guns NOT preventing the government from forcibly removing over a HUNDRED THOUSAND PEOPLE from their homes proves that guns will save us from government overreach.

No rush. I can wait for you to find all the necessary information. Oh, and if you could please cite your sources, that would be great.

(This is the point where I really should have inserted a smiley emoji.)

They later provided me with a link to an article about the Governor of Colorado and how he “stood up” for the Japanese. I’ll give you some of the highlights below:

"Colorado’s governor was the only major political figure to oppose the internment of Japanese Americans after Pearl Harbor"

ONLY MAJOR POLITICAL FIGURE

There's literally ONE out of THOUSANDS

But thank GOD for Colorado's governor. Since, you know, Colorado has always played such an important role in national politics.

“He doesn’t stop what they call at the time concentration camps,” Hanson said. “He doesn’t take some moral stand where he says this is wrong and we will not allow this to happen. He says, ‘As a good American, if this is what the war effort requires, Colorado will do its duty.'”

Them: still looking for more examples but there were more people that opposed this. Also, orders are orders

Me: Uh-huh. That defense didn't exactly hold water at Nuremberg.

Them: battle or evac of the people?

Me: [provides link to US Holocaust Museum page on the Nuremberg Trials]

Them: random fact the jewish populations didn’t have rifles but they actually use to have them.

Me: Random fact: you have yet to find sources to back up any of your three major points. Have you found the legal document that allows the US government to arbitrarily revoke the rights of US citizens en masse?

Needless to say, I have yet to receive a response. 

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I am so. Very. Done. Stop cherry-picking “facts” and stop trying to change the topic when you realize that you are wrong. Just be wrong and acknowledge it. If you can’t do that, don’t talk to me. Seriously.

Doomed to Repeat it...

I can't believe I'm writing about this again. It's like people never learn.

Dear white people,

If you want to know why people of color are so angry about a lack of representation, let me ask you to consider a hypothetical : 

Your great-great-many-times-great grandparents came to the United States from Ireland. They were poor and struggled valiantly to find work and provide for their large family. When her husband died in a factory accident, your grandmother was forced to move herself and her six kids into a single bedroom apartment where she could barely make ends meet (and sometimes didn't). She ended up taking any work that came her way because she was told repeatedly that "Irish need not apply" for any of the jobs that she was otherwise qualified for. She worked hard to provide a good life for her kids, two of whom died as a result of malnutrition and disease, one of whom died as a result of gang violence in her Irish immigrant neighborhood where the police refused to patrol at night. 

Eventually, she finally found a job at a grocery store that was willing to hire an Irish immigrant. She made a little money and was able to take care of her children who all went on to have families of their own. Everyone lived happily ever after. 

Now picture casting Jackie Chan as your hypothetical great-great-many-times-great grandfather (complete with terrible Irish accent) and Halle Berry as your grandmother. Each of your grandparents offspring are played by young children from Ethiopia and the Congo except for the youngest one that dies very early on from a fever and only has three lines. That kid is white (maybe even of Irish descent, but probably not).

That mental shock that you had? That bit of "that would be so stupid" reaction in your head? Welcome to what people of color get to do every time a movie comes out where their stories are appropriated by white people. Think about that next time you go to the movie theatres. Maybe then you'll appreciate why none of us POC's are there with you. 

No love, 

Me

On being "Colorblind"

I hate it when people tell me that they wish that other people would be "colorblind". First of all, it's almost always a white person mentioning it. Secondly, it's almost always coming from someone that has not faced discrimination before due to their ethnic heritage or color of their skin.

I'm not going to claim that a white person can't understand what it's like to experience discrimination. I'm absolutely certain that they can. After all, a poor white person certainly doesn't have the same mobility and access as a wealthy white person in our society. However, what this concept of "colorblindness" fails to do is acknowledge the full range of experiences that formed someone into who they are today. 

For many people of color, whether they like it or not, their ethnic heritage is often central to their lived experience. It's constantly mentioned or pointed out to them. They are always aware of it. It's no different than someone that is used to always being told that they should be interested in sports because they are male or that girls should like pink. As a woman, I realize that it's "weird" to many people that I love sports. If I were a male, however, it would simply be expected. These assumptions are everywhere in society and we need to learn to acknowledge that they exist or we will never be able to move forward.

I have a friend who has often said that they can never forget to use their indicator light when driving because the police might pull them over (they have beautiful dark brown skin inherited from their Hispanic/Latino parents). We always laugh when he says that because there's enough sad truth in the statement that it's believable. There would never be a question of wrongdoing if he were white and didn't use a turn signal. After all, white skin is more likely to be presumed innocent until proven guilty. Brown skin isn't.

I have never heard a white friend say, "I gotta make sure to use my blinker or else I might get pulled over." The only friends I have that say that are people of color.

So what? Why does this matter? People make silly jokes like this all the time, right? The more important question to ask is why do my friends that happen to be POC make these jokes to begin with and my white friends don't?

The truth is that society treats people of color differently. This is something that pretty much every POC is very well aware of from a very young age. I was made aware of it when people would make fun of me for my "slanty eyes". There's no more reason to make fun of someone for that than to make fun of someone for having blond hair, but people do it anyway. 

Growing up, people assumed a lot of things about me. I was told that I didn't need any extra help in math class because I'm Asian (by the way, I needed a lot of help because I really suck at math). It was assumed that I would be able to get into any college I wanted to because I'm a minority, not because of my own abilities, intelligence, or merit. The idea was always that something would be made "easier" for me somehow because I'm a minority. However, whenever I excelled at something that didn't fit the box that they had put me into, they would suddenly focus on a different aspect of my heritage or identity. If I did well in athletics, I'd hear people say, "Oh, you're good at sports because your dad is white" (I kid you not, this was literally said to me). When I did well on an exam, I was told that I was "so Asian." I did well at a track meet once (and I really do mean once, as in a single time. I was awful at pretty much every track event I tried) and was told that it was easier for me to do well because the equipment for girls was lighter than for the boys. Nothing I did was because of the hard work I put into doing a good job, it was all attributed to my genetic makeup.

So now we look at the adult I've become. If someone treats me as if I've never had someone tease me for the shape of my eyes or had my ethnic heritage called into question, it seems like they would be ignoring a pretty important aspect of who I am, right? I mean, we are all a product of our past. Ignoring something that has had such an impact on forming me into who I am seems like you'd be missing a pretty big aspect of, well, ME. 

We exercise a form of "non-colorblindness" every day. We realize that sometimes we shouldn't say things too sarcastically around certain friends because they are very sensitive. We avoid certain topics that we know bring up bad memories or associations for friends and family. We compromise on what movies we watch because we realize that not everyone is into horror/romcom/insert genre here movies. Sometimes we stop making short jokes around people because we know that they are particularly self conscious of their height. All of these things acknowledge that people are NOT all the same. People are NOT coming from identical backgrounds. People are NOT entities that we can view and act upon in a vacuum.

Acknowledging race should not be viewed negatively any more than acknowledging height, weight, hair color, gender, or any other part of someone.

So can we please stop aspiring to be "colorblind"? Instead can we aspire to be someone that sees everything? Let's try to be the opposite of colorblind. Let's be colorful. Let's rejoice and celebrate our differences and embrace how these differences have worked to create such a dynamic and thriving group of people. Let's get excited by our differences rather than trying to ignore them. Let's ask one another to talk about things that other people in the group have never experienced, seek out new information, and truly revel in the diversity around us.

Come on, people. Get colorful.

Late to the Party

Maybe this is my privilege speaking (which is entirely possible), but I don't really understand why people are upset about the influx of suburban white women that have come forward in the past week to stand up against our cheeto-colored President and his cabinet of fruit loops.

Does it suck that these white women weren't there to support women of color when unarmed young black men were (and still are) shot and killed by law enforcement? Of course. Is it horrible that they weren't standing up for their Muslim brothers and sisters when the idea of a Muslim registry was brought up? Definitely. Is it incomprehensible that these women never seemed to speak up when a white man running for President called Mexican immigrants rapists and murderers? Absolutely.

My question is this: how do we move forward?

I don't see anything wrong with pointing out that the middle class suburban white women of America are awfully late to the party, but shouldn't we embrace the fact that they showed up to the party at all? I mean, yes, minority women have been talking until we are blue in the face about the current system and its inequalities, but better late than never, right?

I understand, intellectually, that there is a lot of pain and a lot of bitterness among women of color because these privileged women had the luxury of coming late to the party and ended up getting more recognition for it than the years that minority women have put into this fight. It hurts when someone that you feel should support you stays silent. It hurts when they don't speak up in your defense or when they turn a blind eye to what's happening in front of them. It hurts to realize that someone who said they love and support you in private is unwilling to say those same words in public. It hurts and white women need to understand that they have hurt their minority sisters with their silence and inaction, but is getting mad at them once they realize that they made a mistake the way to build bridges and mend the relationship?

Frankly, the burden of speaking up for civil rights has always been something that has fallen most heavily on people of color and minorities. It's awful and it shouldn't be that way, but it is. Maybe that will change one day. Hopefully that will change one day. Unfortunately, that day isn't today.

We know that today isn't that day because that day should have been yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. Women of all backgrounds should have stood in solidarity from the very beginning of this mess, but they didn't.

Okay, so maybe I do understand why women of color have been so upset about the recent addition of support from white women. However, there's more to it than that.

I'm the oldest child in my family and I'll be the first to tell you that one of my least favorite phrases to hear emerge from my parents' mouths when I was little was, "Be the bigger person." I used to think, "Or maybe my little brother could just stop being a stupid person and then I wouldn't need to be the bigger person." After all, if he hadn't been annoying to begin with, I wouldn't have to make up for his immaturity, right? Well, yes, but that wasn't going to change things. The reality is that he had done something to annoy me and I either had to move forward or sit and be angry forever. The irony of the second option is that by holding onto my annoyance or anger, I would have been doing the same thing that my brother did: acting immature and petty.

Honestly, I still hate being told that I need to be the bigger person. I really, really do. Even as an adult my first thought is that I shouldn't have to be the bigger person, they should have to pay better attention and be more aware. Unfortunately, as true as that may be, it still doesn't change what has happened. I can either acknowledge it and use it as a tool for education or I can focus on the pain that it caused and try to get back at whoever caused it by lashing out so that they feel hurt the same way that I do. Only one of these options is constructive.

This doesn't mean that we have to ignore that white women didn't show up until well after kickoff (forgive me for using so many analogies and metaphors). In fact, I think that they absolutely need to be told by women of color that they are kinda crappy teammates. After all, it's pretty selfish, not to mention incredibly unfair, to let your team start with a man down and expect them to keep the game close until you get there. To take this even further, if you show up late and your teammates have been playing an uneven game, you shouldn't be surprised if they are upset at you. In fact, you should expect it. You should also expect that when you get there, they will already be tired from having to make up for your absence. You win or lose as a team and you've just put your team at a distinct disadvantage just by not being on time.

But in order to win, you need to play as a team. When the final whistle blows, it doesn't matter who showed up when. The only thing that matters is the final score. That's the objective, right? We need to make sure that we win. Period.

So be mad at the latecomers. Give them grief for slacking and not paying attention. Then get back to the business of winning because this is not something that we can afford to lose. This is the World Cup, the Championship, End Game. It's fine to be angry and upset, just don't lose sight of the goal. After all, this is a game that we cannot afford to lose because if we lose, everyone loses.