Items

• 
  2021-03-11

  Asian Americans Experience 'Far More' Hate Incidents Than Numbers Indicate

  Stop AAPI Hate, a coalition aimed at addressing anti-Asian discrimination during the COVID-19 pandemic, received more than 2,800 firsthand reports of anti-Asian hate, including physical and verbal assaults, between March 19 and Dec. 31, 2020. However, as this article explains, many more go unreported due to obstacles such as cultural and language barriers and a distrust of law enforcement. The article also argues that the surge in assaults are partially rooted in the anti-Asian rhetoric of the previous presidential administration throughout the pandemic.
• 
  2021-03-19

  Asian American Experiences With Hate

  There were 3,795 firsthand complaints of racism and discrimination against Asian Americans from March 19, 2020, through the end of February 2021, according to the coalition Stop AAPI Hate. Last week, eight people -- six of whom were Asian women -- were killed in the Atlanta shootings at three spas. The incident shook up many in the Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) community. While the past year has magnified the hate, it's also inspiring some Asian Americans to stop being silent and speak out about their experiences. CNN asked Asian Americans to share their stories. CNN received more than 300 responses, and this article shares some of these stories. They recount fear, violent attacks, racial slurs, losing businesses, being told to "go back to your country," and the scapegoating that has happened to the AAPI community. There is also a desire with the AAPI to speak out and encourage others to, too.
• 
  2020-10-05

  Asian American students discuss experience during COVID-19 pandemic

  Long-standing stereotypes and new pandemic-related misconceptions against Asians and Asian Americans still affect their day-to-day lives. University students of East Asian descent say they’ve felt alienated and scared during the COVID-19 pandemic. Since the pandemic began, hate crimes against Asians in the U.S. have increased and stricter regulations have been enforced against international students, particularly those from China. Since the spread of COVID-19 from Wuhan, China, Asians have been strongly connected to the virus in the public sphere. President Donald Trump has called COVID-19 the “Chinese Virus” and “kung flu” — associating Asians with the spread of the virus.
• 
  2020-06-25

  'I Will Not Stand Silent.' 10 Asian Americans Reflect on Racism During the Pandemic and the Need for Equality

  Asian Americans recount their experiences of the racism they face, being scapegoated as the cause of the virus. The aggression come in the forms of racial slurs, rude behavior, and physical violence. Many cite the rhetoric of Donald Trump and his insistence to refer to COVID-19 as the "Chinese flu" or "Kung flu" as justifying such behavior. These stories help illustrate the difficult experiences within the AAPI community.
• 
  2021-03-18

  Illistration by Pauline C. Cuevas

  During the pandemic, hate crimes against the AAPI community have significantly increased. Our people had been unjustly blamed by previous leadership for the virus, and little hateful comments here and there have now grown into full blown terrorist actions. THIS is why words matter. THIS is why leadership matters. I urge you to speak up, stand up and be an ally to the Asian community-- especially for our elders. We are hurting, angry and scared, but the future can be a brighter one if we stick together. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to make this piece for @calendow. I've noticed my own fear and uncertainty during these times. I worry for my kids and my family, but being able to use my art to shine a light during these dark times gives me courage. We can do this together. #ProtectOurElders #StopAAPIHate #AAPI #AsianAmerican #PeoplePower #Solidarity #RiseUp #womenshistorymonth #filipinaartist #sandiegoartist
• 
  2021-03-17

  Heavy hearted and defeated

  The rise of anti-Asian crimes has been a focal point of my predominantly Asian and Latinx community, and has increased to a point where our local police are trying to send out messages of reassurance and solidarity. But this isn’t something that comes out of nowhere. It has been bubbling under the surface as long as Asian Americans have lived in this country. The Chinese Exclusion Act, barring Asian citizenship, miscegenation laws, land laws, internment camps, the murder of Vincent Chin, hate crimes against Southeast Asian refugees, the stereotypes, the cheap sitcom jokes and potshots, the dual embrace and distaste of the so-called “model minority.” A year ago, as COVID-19 began to infect our everyday life even prior to shutdown, many of my students recounted racism they faced at the grocery store or other public places, as Asians were made the scapegoat of the pandemic. This racism was not happening in the Midwest, it was happening in diverse Southern California. How many times this year have I had the conversation with students, family, and friends about the otherness that is associated with being Asian in America? As half of an interracial marriage with an Asian partner, I have seen first hand the comments. Going to Disney World and having my husband joke that he had seen one and a half Asians that week, himself and my daughter - and seeing the stares. Comments from Disney World or airport employees who stared at us and said in a off putting tone, “you must be from California or Hawai’i,” to which I shot back with “why, because we’re so happy and relaxed?” They didn’t crack a smile. Or my husband’s best friend, who in medical residency in Kansas City was approached in a Panera Bread with a man saying “whaaa, you want to fight Bruce Lee” and being asked by his medical resident roommates to translate Ninja Warrior for them because he “knows Chinese” (he’s third generation Japanese American). The friend in grad school in Michigan who, while walking down the street, was met by women who held the corners of their eyes and chanted “ching chong, ching chong.” Never once has anyone repeated the question “where are you from” when I tell someone I am from California. My Asian American husband is always asked at least twice. Also from California, when he responds to the simple question of where is he from with “California,”there is always the tone change and the slowed down, “No, where are you FROM?” Because the underlying, uncomfortable reality is that apparently if you’re Asian, you can’t be “from” America. Your identity is forever a hyphen. But this was not part of the public conscience until recently. With the rhetoric of leadership that continually blamed China for COVID-19, using ethnically offensive names, the acts of racism my students were experiencing in March have evolved into full fledged violence and crime, peaking yesterday with a shooting. Here we are in another moment when COVID-19 has uncovered the ugliness that lies beneath the surface in a country that calls itself a democracy. A country where the police spokesperson tried to explain away the targeted murder of eight Asian women yesterday by saying the Caucasian male shooter was having a “bad day.” No justice, no peace sounds hollow when you wonder if there ever will be either.
• 
  2021-03-02

  As virus-era attacks on Asians rise, past victims look back

  From the article: Nearly a year after they were almost stabbed to death inside a Midland, Texas, Sam's Club, Bawi Cung and his two sons all have visible scars. It's the unseen ones though that are harder to get over. Cung can’t walk through any store without constantly looking in all directions. His 6-year-old son, who now can't move one eyebrow, is afraid to sleep alone. On a Saturday evening in March, when COVID-19 panic shopping gripped the nation, Cung was in search of rice at a cheaper price. The family was in the Sam's Club meat section when Cung suddenly felt a punch to the back of his head. A man he didn't know then slashed his face with a knife. The assailant left but soon returned to stab the boys. He wounded the 3-year-old in the back and slashed the 6-year-old from his right eye to a couple of inches past his right ear.