Asian Americans, Anti-Blackness, and COVID-19 (Part 1)

PART 1- How this experience can deepen our understanding of anti-blackness

PART 2- Tensions around Asian American calls for solidarity

These last two months have seen a dramatic rise in anti Asian violence. Professor Russell Jeung from San Francisco State University* collected over 1,100 documented examples of verbal assault, shunning, and physical violence in just two weeks. And those were just the cases that were being reported. Last week there was video of a woman in New York having acid poured on her as she took out the garbage. My friend’s 71 year old Korean father was chased out of a convenience store as the person yelled “Get out, Chinese bitch!” And perhaps most shocking to me, was the story of man and his two children, a baby and a toddler, being slashed across their faces while shopping at a Sam’s Club in Midland Texas.

Father and his two small children were slashed across their faces. FBI concluded it was racially motivated.

These are terrifying and shocking examples of anti- Asian racism and xenophobia. They have created a lot of fear, anxiety, anger, and trauma for Asian Americans. And I want to take this moment to discuss how this experience can deepen our understanding of anti-blackness and our solidarity with and empathy towards black folks. But first a caveat, there are lots of people addressing what is problematic about anti-Asian racism and xenophobia, critiquing the model minority myth, and educating around the history of anti-Asian racism. So I don't feel the need to do that here. If you want a quick history- you can check out this fantastic guest post from a couple years ago.

Also, you may wonder why I would ask Asian Americans to do this type of work in the midst of this difficult time. For me, coming from a Christian ethic, I think that any experience that can build deeper love, empathy, and justice between communities is important. There is a deep history of misunderstanding between Asian Americans and African Americans. We have often been pitted against each other and the source of each others trauma. I don’t think we will ever dismantle white supremacy, if we don’t find common ground and language as people of color. (An umbrella term that has often been used in problematic ways.) But common ground does not come naturally, in fact there are many things blocking solidarity and real understanding between our communities. So if one byproduct of all this evil, is that some sort of bridge of understanding is built and increased between Asian American and and African Americans, then amen.

So on to how this experience of anti-Asian racism can deepen our understanding of anti-blackness and what it is like to be a person that lives in the United States in a black body. Though many Asian Americans experience being othered through the perception of being the perpetual foreigner, the frustrations of being expected to be docile, erasure in the media, and as women hyper sexualization and if male emasculation, we do not, in general, fear police violence, being thrown out of public spaces, or racial slurs on a daily basis.* Though I have seen more examples of racial slurs against Asian Americans since Trump came into office. 

In my journey of growth around racial justice,  I understood racism and the concept of institutionalized and systemic racism sooner that I understood anti-blackness. At first, I really didn't understand why it was necessary to delineate anti-blackness as something separate from the system of white supremacy or racism more broadly.

But over time, as I came to see the prevalence of anti-blackness and 

• the way that it is hidden as something normal and neutral, 

• the way it is erased and breathed into the air as if it is not a toxic and dehumanizing lens on the world, 

• the way is is presented as an accurate interpretation of reality.

I realized that it must be named- because anti blackness is so deeply normalized, we often fail to see it as it is happening.  

The experience we're having with this virus is one that can make us more aware of daily realities of anti-blackness and the toll that it takes on black folks. Here are things that we are experiencing as Asian Americans.

• When we go into a space, people look at us with suspicion and as a source of something dangerous.

• There are illogical narratives about us and our community being the source of something that is problematic to the United States at large. 

• You fear that violence will be perpetrated against your family members when they are doing normal everyday activities.

• The smallest innocuous gesture, when done in a public spaces, are suddenly interpreted as dangerous and threatening.

• Politicians and leaders are using language that you know are increasing the permission that people feel to treat us in a dehumanizing way. 

• All of these factors create a hyper self awareness when out in public and a constant evaluating and questioning of how people are perceiving you. 

Let’s look at each of these as an experience that can increase out understanding of anti-blackness.

When you go into a space, people look at you with suspicion and as a source of something dangerous.

The phone call that launched a thousand memes

Black folks have the cops called on them for sitting in Starbucks, having a BBQ by the lake, doing their job as a babysitter, napping in their dorm lounge, trying to get into their apartment building. Have you ever done any of these activities? Have people called the police on you for doing them? We see these stories but we fail to register the trauma that this causes. 

People look at us with suspicion right now, like we might be dangerous to them. That is similar to the experience black folks have. We know that people viewing us in this way are being racist, and yet we often accept narratives of black folks being suspicious or guilty without question. Anti-blackness causes non-black people to feel justified in treating black people inhumanely, then blame black folks for the action. Similarly, xenophobia is causing non-Asian people to treat us violently, and then tell us we deserve it for being here.

There are illogical narratives about us and our community being the source of something that is problematic to the United States at large. 

Narratives about China being “dirty” and “other” because of the food they eat and being the starting point of the virus, parallel narratives of predominantly black communities being inherently violent, with families that are “broken,” and children that inexplicably underperform. These narratives place the blame on black people for the institutionalized, systemic, and cultural racism against black communities in the form of redlining, over policing, racial profiling, under funded and under resourced schools, the school to prison pipeline and more. Plus much of the narrative is inaccurate. As we experience these types of narratives about us, we can more readily see when they are being created against other communities. They are narratives that justify dehumanizing treatment. We must always ask- who is telling this story and why? Is it coming FROM the community that is being described or from outside of the community?

You fear that violence will be perpetrated against your family members when they are doing normal everyday activities.

My mom and stepdad run a small Chinese/ Japanese food restaurant outside of Seattle. So in addition to struggling to survive this pandemic financially, I am afraid for them and how people will treat them. My aunt and uncle are elder Koreans who don’t speak much English and live in rural California. I wish I lived near them and could do all their shopping, and nut punch anyone who tries to mess with them. It has been a scary time for many of us as we venture out in public and send loved ones into the public. Let that increase our understanding of the fear that so many black parents feel, and that black folks in general feel, about their loved ones living in this anti- black world.

Tamir Rice

• Imagine the horror you would feel hearing about 17 year old Trayvon Martin walking home from the convenience store with skittles and snapple and being chased and murdered by a racist man for looking “suspicious.” And the gaslighting trauma of the general public agreeing that the blackness of his skin and his hoodie were reason enough to consider him dangerous.

• Imagine the terror of hearing about 12 year old Tamir Rice playing with his sister in the playground, sitting on a swing and playing with a toy gun, and being shot by a police officer within seconds of arriving on the scene. (Did you ever play in a park? Did you ever play with a toy gun?)

And there are countless other stories like this, so many that they can not even be named here. But I think of John Crawford, Sandra Bland, Philando Castile, and Eric Garner, all of whom were all black people doing completely normal, utterly mundane tasks, and who were murdered because of anti-black racism. Imagine if these stories had existed not just for several weeks, but for the entirety of your life, and the entirety of your parents lives, and the entirety of your grandparents lives. This is the reality that black parents feel as they send their children out into the world. Knowing that black children are punished more severely in school, starting from preschool and handled with more violence in the schools, in public spaces, and by law enforcement. 

The smallest innocuous gesture, when done in a public spaces, are suddenly interpreted as dangerous and threatening.

 In the week or so before we were ordered to shelter in place, I was still doing work in coffee shops. I have terrible seasonal allergies, and so I sneeze a lot and have a runny nose. When I was in coffee shops I would literally yell, “It’s allergies, it’s not the Rona!” Sort of as a joke, but also to dispel the feeling I had that people saw my sneezing as dangerous. 

Now- when I’m out grocery shopping or picking up takeout, I have an even higher sense of awareness. My mere presence no longer feels neutral.

• I work at a predominantly black church, and I can’t keep count of the number of women who share that when they are at work and simply sitting at their desk introverting or thinking, they receive feedback that they are coming across as angry or hostile. 

• Black men walking down the streets are perceived as dangerous. 

• Black men shopping in Walmart are perceived as dangerous. 

• Black children playing in the playground are perceived as dangerous.

Black folks don’t get to work, walk, shop, or play without anti-blackness surrounding them. Are you worried about how your kids will be perceived when they finally get to play in the playground with others kids? Are you worried that parents won’t want their kids to play with your Asian children? Are you worried kids will say the terrible things their parents have been saying at home to your baby? Are you worried that normal child behavior will be read with extra criticism? Welcome to every black parents daily experience of taking their kids to the playground.

This is the evil of anti-blackness. As we feel this racist blanket being laid over us, and clouding how people see us, I hope it will open our eyes to the way a blanket of guilt and hostility has been laid over black people. And how evil that is and what terrible consequences that has had. Imagine the fatigue, the exhaustion, the frustration of these experiences. Anti blackness means that white people, and POC ascribing to anti-blackness feel justified in viewing black people as fundamentally dangerous, guilty, and hostile,  no matter what they are doing. We are getting a taste of this experience.

Politicians and leaders are using language that you know are increasing the permission that people feel to treat us in a dehumanizing way. 

The minute we heard Trump use Chinese Virus instead of Corona virus, we heard the dog whistle. We knew that it would encourage non-Asian people’s hostility toward us. But even when we explained that, we were gaslit repeatedly. People are constantly using these types of dog whistles to reinforce anti-blackness. Phrases like law and order or tough on crime are code for over policing black communities, or used to shut down protests and disruptions that are drawing attention to injustice. Thug is code for the assumed guilt and violence of black men, whether it is used to describe a football player or an unarmed young man. 

What we are experiencing in this moment as a community is a small taste of the anti-blackness  that has formed this country down to its DNA. And empathy is radical. I’m not talking about some sappy feeling that makes you nod knowingly when you see black folks. I’m talking about a radical empathy that sees deeply, embraces solidarity and humanity, and will not abide by a racist status quo. It is an empathy that can not sit silently by when someone’s humanity is violated in any way. Whether that violence be one on one or institutionalized, whether it be physical assault or simply the way a situation is being explained. Our empathy should radicalize us to a love and action. Particularly for those of us who follow Jesus. Our empathy can not just be for those of our own ethnicity. Our empathy must expand us to hold and see the humanity of all humans, and care about what is happening to them. We must have a robust analysis of our social context, just has the Hebrew prophets had. One that radically analyzes the current situation and seeks God for a radically just and loving response. If this experience of trauma can built solidarity instead of animosity, then amen.

I hope that one byproduct of this difficult season is that we as Asian Americans will no longer tolerate racism in any form. And that is the topic of Part 2 of this blog post.

* I want to name that as a biracial Korean American I am speaking from a Korean American social location and an East Asian experience. In addition, I experience certain privileges as an Asian American that lives in California. I know that my experience does not encapsulate the Asian American experience as a whole, nor am I trying to speak for everyone. Particularly I know my experience is far more privileged than undocumented Asian Americans, many SE Asian Americans, and our non English speaking family and elders that are hidden in lower income ethnic enclaves.

• I had mistakenly said Dr. Jeung was at UCSF when this was first posted.