The Debt That We Owe Each Other?

When I was younger my mother used to say to me: “Thương cho roi cho vọt ghét cho ngọt cho bùi”. In English this means if you love something, you are going to give it the hard truth, but if you hate it, you will feed it sweet lies. While this was used to justify my mother’s disciplinary parenting growing up, I feel that this Vietnamese idiom holds true not just in light of the Atlanta murders, but more broadly speaking the history of systematic racial injustice in the United States.

Before I continue, I would first like to acknowledge that I only have the courage to speak today because the Black community stood up first. I am here to be critical of our nation and the larger white supremacist systems in place because like my mom said, “if you love something you must give it the hard truth so it can do better.” My parents were brave leaving behind everything they knew in hopes of starting anew in a country they didn’t know, and they always remained grateful that things were better here then they were in our motherland. While things are better here than they were back home, it doesn’t mean that we should be complacent until things are at their best. After all, you can be grateful and critical at the same time.

I need white people to understand that you might not be the shooter, but you may contribute to white supremacy, in the subtle ways that you move about in the world, potentially even with good intentions.

In social settings, I noticed when you excluded me from your predominantly white circles, or when you picked me first for group projects only for my name to be last on the contributors list.

It shouldn’t have taken until college for me to finally learn about the women who look like me. I want our Asian women like Yuri Kochiyama and Grace Lee Boggs to be remembered in monuments, textbooks and in every display.

I don’t want to live in a world where I have to go through a period of ridding myself of my own physical features and losing my own native tongue to cater to you. I don’t ever want to have to feel small or fade into invisibility.

I know you didn’t choose to be born with the complexion you have; neither did I, but I hope you continue to be critical of yourself and how you exist in the world. I hope you’ll stand up for me when I’m not there; I hope you’ll support me and others when we feel alone in a sea of whiteness.

Defeating white supremacy is an uphill battle, and it starts with each of us constantly examining ourselves. This is a struggle that the BIPOC community recognizes which is why it is so critical that we all stand in solidarity with each other in addition to white people putting in the work. I hope as people, we continue to learn, unlearn, and to fight for what’s right not just when it becomes a hashtag but because it is a debt that we each owe to each other to exist in the community altogether.