I am confused, but I am not silent.

I sat down last night in an attempt to try to articulate some of my thoughts and feelings about the recent rise in anti-Asian violence and hate, but I must admit that the feeling that I feel most is confusion.

I am saddened for the Asians who have suffered attacks over the last year and also for their families.

I am angered that there are people who would commit such heinous acts of violence against other human beings, regardless of race, and especially angered that they would target the most vulnerable of the population, including the elderly and children.

Aside from these feelings, there are a million questions racing through my mind. 

I am confused as to where I fit in the broader Asian community. 

I do not know if there is anything we can meaningfully do to address these seemingly random acts of violence committed against our community. 

I’m not sure if there is anyone we can bring to the table to parley with when it seems like our aggressors do not belong to the same institutions or organizations.

I am not even sure if I my voice is worthy of being heard on these topics because I just so happen to be Asian-American.

I grew up mostly in McKinney, Texas, which was at the time, a predominantly white community where there were very few minorities. At my elementary school, middle school, and high school, fewer than 1% of the students were Asian. My twin sister and I had predominantly white friends and often felt assimilated into the white population.

I was never surrounded by a significant number of other Asian people unless I went to the Thai temple with my family every once in a while for a few Thai holiday celebrations like Songkran or Loy Krathong. But, we did not go to the temple very often because it was far from where we lived and I don’t remember my family being very involved in the Asian community. We were just a close-knit unit among our own family and my parents had a few close friends, who were also Thai, who we would visit frequently. My parents also had many white friends and I remember many occasions where we would visit their families and celebrate American holidays and events with them. 

As far as I knew, there was no collective “Asian community.” The only other Asians I interacted with were other people in the Thai community. 

My parents did not have close friends that were Chinese, Vietnamese, Laotian, Japanese, Indian, or from any other Asian ethnic background. And as far as I knew, it seemed like most of these sub-communities in the north Dallas suburbs stuck to themselves and did not mingle or concern themselves much with other sub-communities.

I don’t remember many instances in my childhood where I felt negative impacts from being Asian, but there were a few. 

I remember being taunted in elementary school once by a Hispanic boy for having “chinky eyes” and being ashamed that my eyes weren’t big and round like those of many of my friends. But the incident did not reoccur and I chalked it up to schoolyard cruelty and bullying.

In high school, I dated a white boy who had a racist mom. When he brought me over to their house for dinner apparently unexpectedly, his mom was very rude to me and at one point she announced to everyone at the table that Asian girls are skinny because we have special parasites in our stomachs. It caught me so off guard that I was speechless. I ran out of the house and drove straight home.

Occasionally, during interviews for jobs and internships in college and in my early career in advertising, I remember a few micro-aggressions of being told I spoke English very well and people being shocked at how talkative, straightforward, and extroverted I was even though I was Asian. 

But other than that, I’ve had good opportunities. As far as I know, I’ve never suffered injustice at work from being Asian. I wasn’t passed over for promotions. I’ve been given opportunities to work on high-profile matters. I was able to find many kind mentors and colleagues and peers of all races and ethnic backgrounds during my professional career. I can’t say that I know everything that has been said about me behind closed doors. Or that no one has ever penalized me for being Asian behind closed doors. I’ve never suffered overt negative racist remarks directed at me at work.

As I reflect on all of these cumulative experiences, however, I realize now that I have suffered instances of racism and never had the courage to tell these people that what they did to me was wrong. 

But, enough is enough. I wouldn’t want any other Asians to have these experiences. I know that down to my soul. My confusion though, is that I don’t know where to begin to address these issues. Instead, I just have questions swirling around in my brain. 

Is it strange for me to not even know what is the most inclusive term for our community? Is it “Asian,” “AAPI,” “Asian-American?” Is there another term that our greater community prefers?

Is it strange for me not to feel connected to a united Asian community and instead feel like it’s a community made up of many small, independent, seemingly indifferent factions? 

What will it take to unite us?

Does “Asian” only refer to people who are from Asian countries who immigrate to the U.S. or does it include Asian-Americans who are born here too?

Does “Asian-American” only refer to people who are from Asian countries and live here or does it refer to people who were born here or people who are naturalized here?

Do the people who immigrate to America today from Asian countries endure the same types of racism that immigrants from Asian countries endured 40 years ago or 100 years ago?

Do all of our sub-communities even face the same issues? For example, do people of Indian descent really face the same issues as people of Thai or Chinese descent?

Are certain stereotypes associated uniquely with certain subsets of the Asian community? Or do other Americans really think that we are all part of one group of people that all share the same characteristics?

How should I feel being a member of the one of the much smaller represented Asian races in America (i.e., Thai)?

I never even recall seeing “Thai” as an option for ethnic backgrounds on any government forms, corporate forms, or educational forms until a few years ago. Does that make me subliminally feel like I don’t count or shouldn’t be counted because no ever cared to count me before?

What about bi-racial Asians? What unique issues do they face?

These questions and million more occupy my mind.

I’m afraid to admit that I don’t know the answers to these questions. But in an effort to try to resolve some of this inner conflict inside myself, I wanted to at least write them out. I would love to have a dialogue with other Asians who may feel as confused as I do so that we can start to form our opinions and answers to these questions.

So I invite you to come chat with me and my friend Angela Han and have an Open Dialogue for the AAPI Community. We're hosting the chat on Zoom next Thursday, March 25 at 7:00pm Eastern / 6:00pm Central Time / 4:00pm Pacific Time. Please register to attend here: https://zoom.us/meeting/register/tJIqduCtpjkjGNNdiXDyydtuuqcScmlMqMVP. Please come with an open mind and open hearts. There's no pressure to reach any conclusions or come with any expertise.

While we appreciate the support of all of our allies, I think we want to make this event a safe space for Asians, Asian-Americans, Pacific Islanders, and multi-racial members of the Asian community here in America so that we can have the opportunity to openly discuss before sharing our thoughts with our allies. I look forward to having future discussions with our allies and hosting a future event for anyone who wants to discuss ways to support the Asian community.

Thank you so much to all of you who have reached out to me in the last week to check-in on me. I'm okay, I'm confused, but I am not silent.