As Asian American Month comes to a close, we hope that the Tufts community has gained greater awareness of issues facing the Asian American community. The issue of unity within the community is a topic we, as co-presidents of Asian Community at Tufts (ACT), would like to address.
Upon inviting a friend to the Asian American Month rally held in mid-November, I received the response, "Dammit, stop trying to get me to come to all these Asian events!" Previously pressed on her reluctance to participate, she had continuously offered the same line of reasoning - "I never asked to be Asian. I don't feel Asian. And I don't identify as Asian." When again asked why, she said, "I don't want to be a doctor. I don't play the violin. I'm not good at math. You know, I don't even like Asian food."
Ironically, the very purpose of the rally was to raise awareness of the ability to assert one's identity apart from these stereotypes. Fear of association with these stereotypes instead resulted in adamant refusals rather than support.
Why do such people, despite having an obvious claim to this identity feel excluded from it? Why are Asian Americans forced into these limited perceptions of what an "Asian American" is? I am not good at math either, nor am I pre-med. "Thank you, come again" is not something I regularly say. I am not a karate expert, computer-savvy, or nerdy. Or well, I'd like to think I'm not nerdy anyway. Few of my Asian American friends fit these descriptions either. Why is it then that all the Asian American faces we see in the media today are those of geeky kids, Bruce Lee's, Charlie's Angels', or Chinese food delivery boys? Is this who we are and all there is to us? Is this what defines us as Asian American?
Perpetuation of images like these prevents us from asserting our identities - our real complex, three-dimensional personalities. Most of us have dual Asian and American identities and are the products of both worlds. We would not be who we are if both these aspects had not, combined together, influenced our values, our habits and our perspectives. We are truly the rich and flavorful blend of Asian American. Forced to separate these, we rarely choose the constructed "Asian" identity but reject it in disgust, having been given nothing but negative and limiting stereotypes to grow up with. If we are to claim and empower the identity of "Asian American" for ourselves today, we must embrace it, not run away from it.
Running away from fighting stereotypes has even more harmful effects. Allowing ourselves to be caricatured and de-humanized into two-dimensional characters empowers others to treat us as such. From the brutal murder of a Chinese-American beaten to death while being called "Jap," to the police shooting of a Korean American alleged to be doing some sort of exotic and dangerous martial arts because he was holding a rake, to the acts of hate and fear directed toward the Muslim and South Asian Communities since Sept. 11, 2001 to the stabbing of a 16-year-old Vietnamese American from Medford last year in a racial brawl... the litany of hate crimes committed against Asian Americans stretches on and on. If you don't believe it still happens today, I could slap you with a list of incidents within the Boston area in the past decade.
Even at Tufts there may be students who think, "But I am Asian. Not Asian American," or "Maybe I do want to be a doctor. Maybe I do like Asian food. How does this apply to me?" To this we say, it doesn't matter. Put these differences aside. Even if you see them, there is a world out there that doesn't. And we must all stand together, unified, if we are to raise our voice. Because let me tell you something. The chance of having "Konnichiwa, baby! Me love you long time" yelled down the street at you or of having a random stranger call you "chink" or "dothead" and assault you, are just as likely whether you call yourself Asian or American.
An attack on one person is an attack on the entire community. Your true ethnicity or national origin may be immaterial to the person throwing out the racist comment. This is why we all need to pull together as Asian Americans and Asians in America. If we don't stand up for ourselves, who will? Our history within this country is over 150 years old, and we are as much a part of the United States as any other ethnicity. Our voices must be heard. Our diverse community includes East, Pacific Islander, South and Southeast Asian Americans. Putting our similarities ahead of our differences would allow us to become a stronger force and power. We need to demand our place within the United States and assert an identity of Asian American, or else be continuously treated like foreigners. How often have you been asked: "Where are you from? What is your nationality?" Well, I'm from New Jersey and I am American, and I refuse to answer anything else.
The power of each of your voices makes a difference. In strengthening the bonds of our own community, we can begin to reach out to other communities as well. Asian Community at Tufts and the Pan African Alliance, for example, have taken such a step recently to bridge the gap of non-interaction between our communities. We have acknowledged that we can support each other through our commonalities and that by standing together, we can collectively be stronger and counter issues such as racism and stereotypes that affect all communities of color.
Without a voice, we are powerless to defend ourselves, powerless to defend our community, and powerless even to shape our own identities in the face of society. We have the potential to be an Asian American community with a strong and powerful voice. And so we challenge you: take a stand, and be a voice...together.
