I can’t shake the tears. Just when I think I’m holding it together, something triggers me anew.
Recently, a tragic incident of violence against Asian Americans unfolded, where a 21-year-old white man named Ethan Parker took the lives of eight individuals in Atlanta, Georgia — six of whom were Asian women — during a shooting spree at three Asian spas. The emotional impact of this news was overwhelming.
Surprisingly, I didn’t shed tears when reporting on the rise in anti-Asian violence or when racism affected beloved figures like the K-pop group BTS. I thought I had grown numb to the reality of anti-Asian hate. It’s a grim reality that many Asian Americans have been conditioned to accept, believing we might be somewhat safe. That “safe-ish” feeling had come to be a compromise for our silence in the face of unacceptable situations.
The question that haunts me is, “What is it about us that incites such violence from white men?” Despite knowing that this isn’t our fault — not the fault of any person of color, especially women of color — I still find myself trapped by the societal narratives of respectability politics, the Model Minority Myth, and rape culture.
My friend reframed the question in a more striking way: “What is it about white men that leads them to commit these acts against us?” The blame lies squarely with them, not with us.
I experienced harassment firsthand after writing an article for another blog, leading to a barrage of threats from white men who couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t want to be friends with them. It’s disheartening to see how my refusal to engage has sparked such outrage.
But let’s shift the focus away from white men. Instead, let’s discuss the real victims of this anti-Asian hate. Vulnerable communities, including our elderly, women, and children, are being targeted. A recent STOP AAPI HATE report detailed nearly 3,800 racist incidents against Asian Americans in just one year, with Asian American women facing discrimination at significantly higher rates.
This surge in hate crimes doesn’t just affect Asians. Other marginalized communities, including Jewish, Black, Brown, Indigenous, and Middle Eastern individuals, also experience the weight of racism.
Yet, I find myself reluctant to dwell on the statistics. It’s easy to hide behind numbers, but I don’t want to become desensitized to the pain. I shouldn’t need to scream to be recognized as a human being. My suffering shouldn’t transform into a spectacle for those seeking to be heroes.
I fear that this growing anti-Asian violence will become so routine that it loses its newsworthiness. I worry that if the intensity of racism diminishes, Asian Americans will slide back into complacency, back to the dangerous comfort of being “safe-ish.”
To bring this to a close, I wish I could end with a call to action or a message of hope. Instead, I’m left with tears.
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In summary, the experiences of Asian Americans in the face of escalating violence are complex and deeply troubling. The societal implications of these acts extend beyond mere statistics, revealing a need for deeper understanding and empathy.
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