Both And

Sometimes I have to remind myself that many of the people in the United States pushing for gun safety and banning Critical Race Theory while attacking trans and queer communities are people who have allowed their trauma and familial and community influences to hurt them on a deep level. And hurt people hurt people. I have to make sure I'm considering that hateful views and bigotry are ingrained and learned behaviors often fostered in people from a young age by their families and communities. I must be cognizant of the trauma we all carry and how that trauma manifests as malicious weapons, especially for those with power, privilege, and positionality. I must acknowledge how white supremacist ideologies and societal norms influence how people overtly and covertly wield hate.

But I never have to remind myself that none of the above are excuses or passes for people to be sh—-y, hateful, and harmful to others.

It's both and.

Yeah, hurt people tend to hurt others, especially when they have the power and opportunity to do so. But just because you're unwilling to confront and unpack your generational and societal trauma and familial influences doesn't mean you get to place the burden of your hurt on those your skewed beliefs deem appropriate to oppress.

I can hold out hope for your healing and still hold you accountable for the harm you cause. I can acknowledge your trauma and expect you to work on your sh— and improve.

I will simultaneously check you and ask somebody to pray for your soul.

It's both and.

Why?

Because even if you're a hate-filled human being, you're still human. You're still worthy of love and care, even if you think me and my people aren't. You're still worthy of healing and support, even if you think other communities aren't.

Even though you may hate my people and me, I don't hate you. Even though you hate people and communities who have done you no harm, I don’t hate you. Why? I'm practicing living in health and joy. Practicing hate to respond to the hatred of harmful people stuck in their trauma does nothing for anyone. No person who has lived in a cycle of trauma and hate has ever been joyful about life.

I ain’t got time for that. Life is short.

Real talk? I hope you get to that place at some point in your life where your hate and trauma aren't your driving forces for the sake of everyone your unresolved pain harms. I hope you get to the point where you can be accountable for your words and actions and acknowledge your pain and the pain you create.

In the meantime, I'mma ask one of my religious homies to pray for your soul while praying for me to have the serenity not to want to lay hands on you while you sport your MAGA hat and act like you’re disappointed in me because I checked yo’ ass and you thought I was "one of the good ones."

Hey, I’m human.

Both and.

On Painful Anniversaries, Anti-Asian Hate, and Solidarity in the Face of Hate

TW: Anti-Asian hate, violence, murder, fetishization.

Today marks the one-year anniversary of 21-year-old Robert Aaron Long murdering eight people in a mass shooting spree at three Atlanta, Georgia, area spas, which Long claims happened due to his "sex addiction." Long's actions led to the senseless murders of Xiaojie "Emily" Tan, 49; Daoyou Feng, 44; Delaina Yaun, 33; Paul Michels, 54; Suncha Kim, 69; Soon Chung Park, 74; Hyun Jung Grant, 51; and Yong Ae Yue, 63.

The murders of these eight people, living their lives and trying to make a living, were not isolated incidents.

Attacks against Asian Americans have been on the rise since the start of the pandemic. The FBI reported an increase in anti-Asian hate crimes since 2019. The group Stop AAPI Hate has tracked nearly 11,000 hate incidents against Asian Americans from March 2020 to December 2021, with more occurring in 2021 than 2020. Most of those incidents targeted women from AAPI communities.

With racial attacks on the rise, AAPI communities are increasingly fearing for their safety with very little accountability for the actions of those initiating hate crimes. A recent survey published this month from the National Asian Pacific American Women's Forum (NAPAWF) found that 74% of Asian American and Pacific Islander women reported experiencing racism and/or discrimination over the last year. 53% said the perpetrator was a stranger or someone they didn't know. For East Asian respondents, in particular, 51% of women said they feel less safe today than at the start of the pandemic.

As we look at the anniversary of a violent and hateful act, I feel so much pain for my AAPI friends, family, and colleagues. As a person of color, a Black person, I feel this pain deeply because I know how terrifying it is to believe you might not make it home today. I know how horrifying it is to think that your loved ones might not make it to the dinner table tonight. But what I really feel, deep inside my soul, is exhaustion.

I'm tired. I've been tired. One thing I'm so tired of is watching as communities of color have to acknowledge painful and traumatizing anniversaries while asking for justice and safety that never come. Many of my AAPI friends, family, and colleagues are also tired. I know many of you are hurting, scared, still trying to reconcile why this has to be your reality and why there is so much hate in this world. I don't have answers. But you do have me – my support, care, and solidarity.

I stand with my AAPI friends, family, and colleagues on this painful anniversary and every other day of the year too. I stand with AAPI women and femmes on this painful anniversary and every other day of the year too. I will always stand with you and fight for your right to live, to exist, to thrive, not to be objectified and fetishized by white supremacy and hate. And we'll keep fighting together to make it so that the only anniversaries we're observing are celebrations, not trauma.