To be Asian American is to need the ability to withstand casual racism on a daily basis. It’s the ability to brush off questions like “Where are you really from,” the shouts of “Go back to your country” or the slurs hurled at us on the streets.
It’s the ability to grow outside of the box that American society views us in: Quiet. Not able to speak English. Subservient. Diseased. Not from here.
When Asian Americans across the country woke up Sunday to the devastating news of the mass shooting in Monterey Park, California, we were asked once more to be resilient as our minds were ringing from the pain of the last three years. Every Lunar New Year since 2020 has been bittersweet for our communities fighting for survival. This one was no different. The death toll from the Monterey Park shooting currently stands at 11.
January 2020’s Lunar New Year was overshadowed by the coronavirus. Racists associating COVID-19 with Chinese people caused America’s Chinese and other Asian neighborhoods to languish, months before the pandemic wreaked havoc across the country. East and Southeast Asians were verbally and physically attacked in the streets. Community organizations came together to save one another from business closures or harassment.
In 2021, Asian Americans recovered slightly, but COVID-19 vaccinations weren’t widely enough available to allow people to gather. In 2022, some semblance of normalcy was restored to Lunar New Year celebrations, but not without the reminder of tragic deaths at the hands of anti-Asian hate.
In some ways, this year’s holiday allowed us to be with our community to process the shooting in Monterey Park. Chinatowns across the country went on with their lion dances, storefronts were blessed while confetti cannons rained hope over the streets. People gathered in their homes, cooking elaborate spreads of auspicious meals. Lunar New Year is the time to usher in a new season of luck and prosperity.
But those celebrations did not happen without community organizations or lawmakers also checking in with law enforcement to ensure there were “no known threats.” There was the grim reminder that those dancing at the dance studio in Monterey Park were also just trying to celebrate Lunar New Year. The city’s celebrations were immediately canceled. Now the next two weeks of the holiday have been marred by this tragedy.
For every devastating event in the East and Southeast Asian American community, it’s not difficult to think, “It could have been any one of us.” Because with every passing attack, it was one of us.
It was our elders who were attacked in the streets beginning in 2020. It was the people of the Atlanta Spa shootings in March 2021. It was Michelle Go on a New York City subway platform in January 2022 and Christina Yuna Lee in her NYC Chinatown apartment the following month.
And it was our parents ringing us to let us know they were called a slur today. It was us packing our pepper sprays in our bags, because you never know what could happen. Over the last three years, we’ve learned to hug our families and friends a little tighter. We’ve made sure our last words were always “I love you.” We’ve protected our communities to the best we can. We’ve been resilient for each other.
Although the shooter in Monterey Park was also Asian American, the result is still the same. The pain from the last three years is real.
So, as we stare down 2023, we ask, how many more will this happen to?
Interview with Taylor Jung
— For more resources, Asian American and Pacific Islanders can visit the Asian Mental Health Collective.
