A Cry for Acknowledgement of All Us Asian Americans (For My Mother)
- Introduction
My mother has taught me many things
about race and racism
She has many opinions
many stories
many facts
that she shares with me
I know not how to turn them to prose
So I write these lines instead
- Asian-American
My mother is ABC:
American Born Chinese
Her parent immigrated here
a very long time ago
She was raised in this country,
Born in this country
She speaks English
Her Mandarian twice as good as mine
But not nearly as good as her parents’
She is American
She is Chinese
She is Chinese-American
The hyphen connects her identities
My identities
It connects the country her parents come from
My grandparents
and the country she comes from
The country I come from
It represents her
and me
But the hyphen also
makes it seem like
one must qualify
what kind of American they are
“I’m American and also Asian”
With a space, it becomes
“I am Asian and a American”
fully both
All at once
I will use
a hyphen for us
because I’ve already made it poetic
and a space for everyone else
because it’s trendy
and what I said above
III. Omitted Narratives, Forgotten Stories
But sometimes people don’t see that
my mother is American
Sometimes people don’t tell
the stories of her people
the stories of Asian Americans
Stories of America
The same America
of the Gold Rush
of the Civil War
of the railroads
of basketball
of jazz
of NASA
That America chooses to leave us out
Some of these stories I only hear now,
In my idle searching
Our landmarks are so erased from the books
I never learn of
so many
Asian American firsts
So I will tell you now
how these stories go
People know many Chinese miners
came for the California Gold Rush
But do they know the Chinese miners’ distinctive clothes
made them the targets
of white miners’ violent frustration
at all foreigners?
We have all learned about the Civil War
Asian Americans
so often forgotten,
ignored in their small numbers,
were there too
Along with Pacific Islanders,
They fought
Mostly for the Union
Sometimes for the Confederacy
Often without citizenship
Always for a country
that told them they were
Not American
The railroads represent
the peak of steam power
A shining accomplishment
and a demonstration of America’s superiority,
they have fallen into
Disrepair
Rusting
Lying unused
When they were the future,
Chinese workers built them
Many were killed or injured
But they were not allowed
to be in the picture
that was taken when
the two lines finally met
Connecting a country
that would soon stop all people like them,
Chinese laborers,
from entering it
The same year
Jackie Robinson
became the first African American
to play for Major League Baseball
Wataru Misaka,
a Japanese American,
broke the color barrier
for professional basketball
Why have I heard one’s name but never the other’s?
Jazz was created by African Americans
its history is filled with
their stories
their pain
their sounds
I never knew Asian Americans
had a whole Asian American Jazz movement
in the ‘70s and ‘80s
infusing jazz
with the sounds of our classical instruments
When the space shuttle Challenger broke apart
killing seven people,
including Christa McAuliffe,
Ellison Onizuka was onboard
He had been the first Asian American
and the first person of Japanese descent
to reach space
These are omitted narratives,
Pages never put in
Words no one thought to write
But still only a few
of the stories tossed aside
For not being dramatic enough
For not being revolutionary enough
For not making America better enough
Whose heros could have been found within these tales?
Who could have found the first person
to do the things they wanted to do
if they only had heard this?
Who would have been inspired,
knowing there was a place for people like them
all along?
- No, I’m Telling You it’s Racist
When my mom was at school,
Classmates would mock everything
from Asian eyes
“Chinese, Japanese”
while referencing Asain stereotypes of laborers and beggars
“Dirty knees, skinned knees”
to her parent’s language
her language
my language
“Hahaha, what does ‘ching chong’ mean anyways?”
They reduced
an entire language
filled with delicate sounds
and intricate idioms
A language that so much had been
said in
written in
invented in
To a few silly sounds
“It’s just a joke”
I don’t really know
how often this happened
what the kids’ intentions were
or how much it hurt my mother
(One thing many children of Asain American immigrants
have in common
is keeping their feelings hidden)
But I do know
she understands
Kids don’t say stuff like this to directly tease anymore
but it still shouldn’t be said at all
even by Chinese kids themselves
(my mom told me, clearly quoting something, that it’s called “self-hating racism”)
It is
at its core
in its origin
to the point of inextricability
racist
And I shouldn’t have to be the one to tell people this
- Hey, is Anyone Even Listening?
I have heard
Asian American kids
don’t bother to speak up
about the racism they face
Because they know no one will listen
(I have my sources)
I know of people
who are speaking up
But no one is listening
My mother listened,
last year,
to a panel on Asian American health
It focused on the children of immigrants
but could apply,
to an extent,
to all Americans of Asian descent
When she tried to share what she learned
it seemed like
No one was listening
Did you know that
Asian Americans
have the second highest rate of depression?
Native Americans,
another “invisible minority,”
are first
But the symptoms of depression
are different
in Asian Americans
They keep showing up
They keep “doing well”
They keep getting good grades
There are stories
where kids show up
Until the day
they can’t take it
and disappear
because of a breakdown
or hospitalization
No warning signs
Asian Americans see themselves so little
in the media
in their curriculum
in their teachers
in their idols
that they often end up thinking of themselves
as white
There is nothing for them
so they take what they can get
and twist,
smear,
hide,
distort
themselves
to fit in
There is no place
for Asian Americans
to talk to each other
and form their identities
So they drop the “Asian”
They drop their parents and/or grandparents stories
of sacrifice and hard work
They drop amazing cultural legacies
they were never told of
They drop who they really are
Even though they can never drop
the way they are seen
stereotypes and microaggressions
high expectations
(parents, people, themself)
and become just
“American”
Some of the other things my mother learned
that apply to me
(to an extent):
Asian Americans internalize perfection and allow performance to define self-worth
There is no emotional crash
like thinking I’ve done something poorly
that I thought I was great at
Asian Americans don’t ask for help
I think of it as waiting
until there is solid proof I need it
And I’m not lying
It’s because we don’t want to be a burden
If you want me
to admit I need something to be explained again,
you need to ask twice
Because I hate bothering anyone
Ever
My mother tells me to speak up
So here are my words
Are you listening?
