I’ve thought long and hard about how I want to use my voice to join the conversation and community response concerning racial injustice in America.

There are a number of reasons for this. For awhile, I just couldn’t deal with all the emotions. Someone close to me is a police officer and with how the media has been portraying law enforcement, it’s been very difficult to process the news and media without feeling like I want to take on everyone in a fist fight.

I also hate Facebook and social media rants. It’s nearly impossible for us to discuss differences in political, societal, and sociological opinion without resorting to name calling, trolling, and baited responses. My frustration was further fostered by fear that if I spoke up in defense of law enforcement, the Black Lives Matter community would bash me and if I express opinions about racial issues that apply to those outside the African-American community I would not be heard or worse, belittled.

But after months of difficult conversations with myself and my family and friends, the one thing I can say without hesitation or fear is that I have a voice and nothing should stop me from speaking about my experience because my story deserves to be told.

The video I’ve shared at the top of this post is a scene from the Netflix show Wu Assassins. I wasn’t terribly impressed with the pilot but this scene means so much to me. The character who explains the history of mistreatment of the Chinese people in America, does so with civility, facts, and no desire to be superior. He wants to let the waitress know that he is an American and just because he looks different from her, doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy a good breakfast of sausage and eggs.*

I’ve faced similar situations when I say I’m from Singapore and people wonder why my English is so good or co-workers who have trouble asking me about my life experience because they don’t want to come across as racist. These are frustrating but I can deal with these situations. They largely stem from ignorance rather than intentional dislike or racist tendencies.

What has been scary and down right unbelievable, are the videos that have surfaced since the start of the COVID crisis of white Americans yelling at Asian Americans to go back to China or that they don’t want us in their country. I’ve spent the last five months with this fear lurking in the back of my mind every time I go to the store that someone is going to say that to me or look at me and think, “She must be one of those Asians who’s responsible for all of this.”

But what’s most frustrating to me is how the Black Lives Matter movement has made these feelings seem insignificant. I understand that the heart of the Black Lives Matter movement is to raise awareness for the mistreatment of all people of color and I stand by that philosophy. What makes me feel small is the fact that I haven’t heard hardly any reporting on racial injustice against Asian Americans in the past few months. When I turn on the news, I see more rallies, more protests of people who are upset about the deaths of black men and women.

Where is my voice? Where are my people? Why does it feel like our stories–our lives–matter less?

Please understand: I am not, in any way, trying to diminish the pain the African-American community has been going through these past few months and for generations. I will never be able to comprehend the rage, fear, and frustration they are feeling and I am not trying to say I understand those things because I also encounter racism.

What I am saying is, please hear my voice. Please listen when I tell you that I get scared when we drive through Oregon because I remember being mistreated because of my race while I lived there. Hear me when I say that my people were treated like garbage when they first came to this country and that the government passed legislation (The Chinese Exclusion Act and The Geary Act) that took away our rights just because we were Chinese. Please hear me when I say, I was heartbroken, when my dad told me about an incident at Home Depot where someone told him to get away from her because of the color of his skin.

I am not here to say, “My pain matters more than your pain,” or “The injustices against my people are the same as yours.”

I am here to say that none of us should have to feel this way. None of us should have to write these posts, none of us should have to live in fear, and none of us should have to justify these feelings.

We are sitting on the precipice of change. If we choose grace and love and kindness, if we choose to listen to those around us–all those around us–and to love on our communities, we can begin to eradicate racial injustice for all people of color.

But if we take this moment to churn up anger and hate and frustration, if we continue to light fires of rage and mistrust and ignorance, then all of us will fall. All of us will suffer.

Now is the time to look to your neighbors, your family, your friends, and strangers and say, “I’m sorry for what you’re experiencing. I’m sorry for having contributed to the problem. Please, tell me how I can help.”

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*I am aware that the scene I’ve referenced is followed by a fight between the two opposing parties. First, it’s Hollywood and there has to be flash and bang. Second, my intention was to focus on the conversation and how important it was that the character took a respectful approach rather than getting angry and yelling at the waitress.