My Ap Lang teacher inspired me with the power of stories and encouraged me when I decided to write my beginning of the year memoir in a letter format. At the time, I was feeling frustrated over the constant micro aggressions and normalized racism. You can read my memoir "Its the Little Things," down below.
10/9/2019
Racial discrimination isn’t always obvious, not always intended, but always hurtful. Little comments and jokes may seem harmless but in reality they help build stereotypes and hurt the communities you’re joking about. Memories and instances that contain these little racist things stick with some people forever, including me. It’s important for people to know the impact of their words.
Freshman,
I am the slanty eyed girl you insulted in the hallway. I’m sure you remember my straight black hair and flat face. Were you confused when I walked up to you all tan and tall? Maybe you would be surprised to learn that I am rather stubborn, athletically gifted and not a crazy rich Asian. There are many people like you that I come across in my daily life. Clueless, offensive, oblivious people.
I’ve put myself in your shoes and have reimagined the scene that went down on the first day of school. I still don’t understand what was running through your head when you responded to my offer to help. Maybe you and your group of friends can explain to me how insulting me is hilarious? I know that this memory is gone and brushed to the side for you, but I remember it vividly.
My day started off amazing with blaring pop up music for an alarm and the sun shining through my windows. I was going into school a day early to help you and the other freshmen find classes and feel welcome. I remembered how stressful and scary the first freshman day of school was, and I wanted to make it an easier transition for you. I arrived bright and early before the class of 2023 came and set everything up. Your class looked nervous when you arrived but the Surf Tide Leaders made you feel welcome.
As the day went on, I saw you get more comfortable and cracking more jokes to anyone who would listen. I watched the people gathering and hanging off your every word. You became the class of 2023’s clown that day. You may have gotten popular in a matter of hours but you were still in a new environment. Your eyes portrayed your confusion as you led your gaggle of admirers around in circles. I identified you as a poor, lost freshman.
I made a straight beeline to you, the class clown, and asked if you needed any help. I was happy to give out any advice. Anything at all. Maybe even hold a short conversation. I was not expecting to hear and witness what you did next.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Korean.” Time slowed down as I observed your followers doubled over with laughter, fingers pulling your eyes sideways and my friends horrified expressions. I was astonished that you, a cacausion freshman, had the nerve to say that to my face and perform an offensive gesture. I thought I misheard you. But your arrogant smirk suggested otherwise. My face twisted into pure rage and a surge of embarrassment and pain entered my chest. I’m sure your friends thought you were hilarious as your clique sauntered and laughed down the hallway. You probably didn’t understand how insulting your comment was to my community. Taking a look at someone's race and appearance to make a joke might’ve seemed okay to you but I hope you remember my friend’s sharp words following you that deemed your words and actions racist.
Despite your hurtful words and racist gestures, I still have a lot of hope for you. I hope that life as the class clown is treating you well. I hope you know that I am proud to be both Japanese and German. And I hope you stop making racial jokes and realize the impact your words have.
Sincerely,
Girl who looked Korean
I felt very empowered after writing this piece. My voice and story was recognized by my teacher. I took the big concept of racism and was able to make it more personable and easy to understand. As you can see, this letter was written a few years ago and slipped the back of my mind until 2021...
In light of this past years events I felt very frustrated. I struggled to explain how different minority groups felt in light of the past year. I could only speak on my own experience as a cisgendered Asian American Woman. I felt comfortable explaining xenophobia and how I felt about recent attacks on fellow Asian Americans but I struggled explaining how Black Americans felt after the death of George Floyd or how queer individuals feel everyday because I am not them and that is not my story to tell. So, the dear society project was born. A project where people can share their own story and explain these huge issues in a way that is more personable and easy to understand- like in my letter all those years ago.
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