Living in a euphemistic world

Not so...

The second I heard that the gunman was identified as Asian-of-some-sort, one thing went through my head as I tuned out the reporting over live images of ambulances and the VT campus that I'm sure went through the minds of all Asian-looking people in America: "Oh frick, I hope he's not [insert your Asian nationality here]."

I've realized that, although my friends from college and subsequent years have brought me into an inclusive and healthy developmental experience, America does not only represent people who respect you for who you are.

The act of one in a group represents all the members in that said group, especially when they share non-white physical traits. Coming immediately after the Imus scandal, the fact that the shooter is Asian is only exacerbated. Racism is the first thing people will pounce on -- and ironically, the first thing people do is notice the race of the shooter.

On the other hand, even though I do occasionally fear for my life due to racial retaliation, insight into the shooter's culture and history will help explain more accurately why he chose to commit such a desperate and inhuman act. If anything is at stake, I feel it's the mental sanity of Asian and Asian-American students who constantly strive to become more integrated into American society. This is a perfect time to more thoroughly delve into the effects that being brought up in a traditional Asian family among an American backdrop has on a people that already naturally tend towards grievous amounts of self-consciousness and a childhood filled with family duties, high demands, and competition for the No.1 spot in any minor activity.

I'd like to know more about Cho's developmental history -- it's known that he had lived in the US since he was 8 years old, but what demands were put on him by his family and country that he couldn't defend himself against? What opportunities were missed for him that could have served as outlets to de-stress and feel like a worthwhile participant of his own life? Where are the positive role models who reached out to him when he was a kid? There were a few times in my life that I felt trapped and desperate, and most of those times had been during college. Luckily, I had my dad to cry out to during the first event, and a counselor that had an incredibly positive role in rescuing me from my delusions in the second.

I feel that the desperate shootings may have been an unparallel urge to release all of that anger, frustration, pressure and judgment, but without a constructive how. Anger at the external world, especially, since he did take action against more than just himself. A huge moment when his emotions and reality spiraled out of his control, with no more space to let it go but outwards.

If any progress is to be made in Asian-American psychology, we need to use this opportunity to educate K-12 teachers and counselors who have the potential to prevent repression like this from escalating to a desperate situation in college years, when cognitive adjustment becomes more difficult. In addition, I really believe that the unruly demands of parents who have not let go of their children needs to be addressed. It is an epidemic of sorts -- where most Asian Americans share similar harmful traits -- that prevent us from living life free from self-judgment and guilt.

Socialization is key.

I really want to comment on the topic of the blog post by Carmen Van Kerckhove from Racialicious.com (alas, the paradox of drawing attention to this topic while desperately trying to pass it off as "not a big deal." Is it really a big deal to me? If only my subconscious could speak up about this.):

Quick read: Barack Obama and white women?
(http://www.racialicious.com/2007/04/05/barack-obama-and-white-women)

I view the manipulated image of Obama's book as I do when people yell Chinese-sounding verbalisms at me — what's that? oh, a fly around my head *swat* — it’s just another one of those random things that the pubescent of mind put out to justify their otherwise questionable life experience (i.e., to get a laugh at another’s expense, to feel like they have marginalized the other). The last resort before physical assault occurs.

Although things like this are intended to reduce the respect of whoever is targeted, I feel that it is actually no more effective nowadays than a smear report on FoxNews, insignificant, since we've seen stuff like this over and over and over. . .

There was another reader who commented with another perspective (as opposed to my own "swat it and look away"):

"Do not stand for it, joke about it, or even shake your head in playful disgust. Confront it boldly and work to erradicate it. It is our duty as humans."
-- Mordecai

If only I were so enthused. In secondary school, parents and educators may believe that the child will grow out of bully tactics and use detention as a holding place, but what can we do when the child has grown? I really do believe that one way to eradicate racism is what many places have been doing for decades -- to introduce diversity into the school, workplace, and other social venues. The more one personally identifies with another, the less likely one is to automatically reject others of the same kind. Re-socialization is key, and just by being involved and visible in your community can be a motivator for change.

Is that racist?

Holding up a "PC for Dummies" book, she approached me and said, "I should ask you because you obviously know more about this stuff than me."

This was the "excuse me, can you help?" that I got from a middle-aged white customer, looking for beginner's advice on digital conversion and imaging.

(OK, all you out there probably know what I'm going to say next.)

My gut reaction was to take the book from her and riffle through it -- fine.

My (split) second reaction was to wonder: Waaiiidaminit.Why should I obviously know more about computers than she would? THAT'S RACIST!

My third reaction was to admit to myself: But I do know about computers... I guess the stereotype is true that all Asians know more about computers than the general white population.

My fourth reaction was to admonish myself: That's silly, that whole statement could be false and conversely so as well.

My fifth reaction was to wonder if that's what she meant by her first statement in the first place. Maybe she actually meant "you young person" rather than "you Asian person." Perhaps??

My sixth reaction, and this was close to a millisecond before I reacted to her inquiry, was to give up my usual recursive thinking process and despair that every single thing said to me by any kind of person would be considered racist by me.

Do you ever get that feeling?

If someone asked me out of the blue, "where's the nearest Japanese restaurant?" is that racist? (true, I probably would have been able to give them an answer. . .)

If someone bowed their head in passing on the street to acknowledge me, is that racist? (true, I would have bowed my head back. . .)

If a touring Asian couple intentionally avoided asking me about map directions and went to ask a white employee instead, is that racist? (true, I probably would have directed them to the same white employee cause I'm clueless about my surroundings, never mind directions. . .)

Tell me if you do or don't, but I find myself scouring every input and output for any trace of even the slightest possibility of racism when none may exist at all. Or on the other suspicious hand, it may permeate all interactions. I've realized and forgotten over and over that there is a fine line between racism and altering behavior based on cultural background. All of those scenarios above define people I know. Is it worth getting angry about if there's no hostility intended? I suppose we get angry because there's a definite frustration that people aren't educated in our specific situation. "We aren't Asian, we're Asian American. Our native language is English, not Chinese. We are integrated into the American culture, not foreigners. So stop treating us like we are!"

The question we have to ask ourselves: How can someone tell if we're Asian or Asian American? African American or Haitian American? French or French American? Does the label really matter? Should it matter? Should there be an initial assumption that we are all, by default, acclimated Americans until proven otherwise?

And more importantly, should we be focusing so much of our attention on it? I'm getting all riled up and confused as we speak! This recursive thought loop has spun out of control.

When will the noises end?

At last, there was something that happened unusual enough to spark me to write. I'm talking this time about the state of racism. Ironically, the "aggressors" in this case are often enough the purposeful victims in a majority of other cases, screaming their outrage on public TV.

I'm not trying to be hostile here, I'm just telling it like I see (and today, experienced) it. What happened was this. My sister and I were walking down Mt. Auburn Street, the main road that runs from Harvard Square in Cambridge to Watertown. Close to a main intersection, there was a bus that was parked off to the side chock-full of black kids, probably at the first or second grade level. There was a huge ruckus coming from them, a byproduct of high doses of Kool-Aid and the freshly minted just-got-out-of-school-yay!! rush, I would venture to guess.

As we approached, we started getting excited hellos and cat calls -- dozens of boys sticking their arms out the half-open windows and leaning to get our attention, "Hey!! You're beautiful!!!" (Though I would not consider this unusual from any race). I braced for it, because I just knew it was coming. I didn't have to wait long for that bitter mix of satisfaction, for being right, and disappointment, for what really did happen. It was as pure and as sword-slitting smooth as the first time Rosie O'Donnell uttered her own "Ching Chong" slur. As we passed the bus, we were followed by high-pitched Chinese-sounding noises, a continuous stream of shouts reminiscent of pop-culture TV desperately trying to mimic Chinese food stalls and dry-cleaning joints.

I knew it was coming, but I was astounded by the sudden, very sad realization that these kids are our next generation. Not to mention that they, the race that has withstood just as much obvious racism and perhaps more in its history, were being brought up, in current times, insensitive to the effects of "the word" -- or in this case, "the noises."

If these kids weren't so young, I would have labeled them hypocrites, but how could they know any better than what their own society and family values are teaching them every step of the way; every input they get, every role model they see? We say we the U.S. are so far along, we're so much better than we were 10, 20, 30 years ago. Then why am I not surprised anymore? Why have I begun, in my post-babied life, to need to learn how to take the racist slurs, noises, and cat calling, and just "deal with it"?

My grief is this: in one of the most liberal and intelligent places in the U.S. as Cambridge, how is it imaginable that even these children here are no different?

I am saddened by the thought, and there's no way out.