I grew up in sunny San Diego in a four-bedroom house with the shoreline just in sight. I have two loving parents, one of which is a doctor who is able to support me, and the other is a self-proclaimed housewife who doesn’t need to work in order to support her family. My brothers love, care for, and protect me wherever I go, and my parents support me with whatever I want to do. I attend one of the top public high schools in California. I have my own car, bought and paid for. My tuition will be paid in full by the time I’m thirty. I have a phone and a laptop. I never go to bed hungry. Lastly, I’ve never had to worry about if my family will make enough money to pay rent at the end of the month.
I am a third-generation Korean-American, and I know I’m more than privileged to be in the position I am today. However, this privilege must be utilized, as I refuse to be complacent in the hands of white supremacy.
On March 16, there was a shooting in Atlanta, Georgia where eight Asian Americans, six of which were female, were killed. Just months prior, elderly Asian Americans were being assaulted and beaten for “spreading the Coronavirus to America,” which translates to they were being assaulted for their race- hate-crimed.
Amazingly, there’s a stark, almost childlike disbelief that arises within me: the abundance of subtle racial bias and outright hatred amongst our neighbors. Even after BLM protests, Indigenous movements, and active grassroot organizations, these acts of prejudice still manifest.
I can state the obvious, but I shouldn’t have to verbalize that this must stop. Asian-Americans should have already been included to everyone’s anti-racist agenda. The amount of hate crimes could have been prevented to a certain extent, yet everyone, including the government, was ignoring our cries. It is a bare minimum to respect and care for other people regardless of their ethnic background.
The message will never change: we are not just your model minority. We are not just docile, feminine, intelligent, and ignorant. We are people too. When things happen to the Asian community, like assaults and bigotry, they cannot be something you can just brush off. Yes, Asians are privileged. Yes, we have relatively positive stereotypes. Yes, we are considered “luckier” due to our proximity to whiteness, but this doesn’t erase our oppression. Our issues matter too. They deserve to be spotlighted, and people must be held accountable. Social media birthed a motto regarding Asian American prejudice: say it for what it is. We cannot beat around the bush--we don’t have the time for that. Say it for what it is, because we are sick and tired of being excluded from your paltry activism.
There have been many times where my fellow Asian-Americans have argued , “It doesn’t concern me, so why should I care?” It does concern you. If we do not hold ourselves accountable by educating ourselves and actively trying to prevent racially motivated hate crimes, such as the one in Atlanta, then these situations will not only continue, but become worse. It is not difficult to respect someone and their culture. The act of calling out a peer for their prejudice comments might seem arduous, maybe even unnecessary, but it is not. Our loved ones do not deserve to live fearfully, consumed by how their race could be the factor of a hate crime.
I’m aware of my privilege, yet I aim to utilize it in a meaningful manner. Standing up for what is morally correct is not difficult. It’s not something we should praise either, rather, expected. If you’re ignoring the people in your own community dying right outside your window, you are part of the problem. Things need to change. The threats against Asian Americans must stop, and we must actively try to stop it. Privilege does not equate to silence.