In second grade, you made fun of my dumpling lunch. I went home and asked my mom to pack me sandwiches for the rest of the week. In middle school, you assumed I knew the answers and told me to do all the work in math class. I put my head down and buried myself in the problems. During freshman year of high school, you pulled your eyes into slits and said, “ching chong.” I shrugged it off and walked away.
And although I seemed fine with it then, I wish I could do it all over again.
I wish I would’ve chosen the dumplings over the sandwiches. Because I should’ve known my mom would create an interesting combination of mayonnaise and rousong (dried shredded meat) between two pieces of bread. I wish I would’ve told you that instead, we could work on the problems together. Because I’m actually not a mathematician and could very likely come up with the wrong answer. I wish I would’ve told you that you looked absolutely absurd. Because my eyes DO NOT look like horizontal vaginas and “ching chong” isn’t even a word.
Perhaps I went along with it because you were just joking. But maybe I let you continue to mock me and the Asian culture because I was different. You made me feel different. You rejected and romanticized parts of who I was and who I wasn’t. I’m still unsure whether you were creating a temporary ambiance of laughter or if you truly felt this way. Regardless, I’m sorry I never corrected you. I’m sorry I participated in self-mockery that made you think it was OK. I’m sorry I found myself believing that it wasn’t a big deal. The longer I allowed it to continue, the more I realized I was contributing to the negative effects of stereotyping.
Here’s what people aren’t talking about. The Asian culture is incredibly diverse. Japanese is not the same as Korean or Chinese or Taiwanese or Indian. Asian Americans account for only 1 percent of Oscar nominations in the past 89 years. Scarlett Johansson was cast as the Japanese, lead character in “Ghost in the Shell.” John Lu, Reynold Liang, David Wu. Three names you probably won’t recognize because attacks against them were labeled as a hate crime and then overlooked. I can’t help but think that it has escalated to this because there are people, like me, that have failed to correct and failed to educate those around them.
So here’s what I have to say. I will no longer let this be the norm. I am more than my yellow skin, my small eyes, my affinity for school, and my peace signs. I am not a fetish, I am not the subject of your next joke, and I am not a Jesse Watters’ Chinatown segment. I’m sorry I never corrected your racist Asian joke. But I’m not sorry I’m Asian.
