To my Asian(Am) friends here, did you eat yet? Some of you already know what I mean by that, but I’ll say it two ways for those who don’t. I love you.
I’ve been thinking about the concept of invisibility this week. Steven Yeun says that “sometimes I wonder if the Asian American experience is what it’s like when you’re thinking about everyone else, but no one is thinking about you.” Tung Nguyen calls this the “racism of being made invisible.”
This was supposed to be a celebratory week for Asian-Americans with Yeun, his co-star Youn Yuh-jing, and their movie Minari receiving so many Oscar nominations. Not to mention Nomadland, the Sound of Metal, Mulan, and Over The Moon.
Sometimes you wonder if hate crimes often accompany breakthroughs. After all, some of the most visibly violent days of the year were *backlash* that immediately followed events like the Georgia Senate runoff. There’s a mentality among many that finds security in invisibility, especially among those that have had to uproot to a new place.
I’ve leaned this apparent defense move before. When teaching in schools where there weren’t many Asians, people’s inability to know my background meant the students quickly ran of things to say after asking if I was Bruce Lee. In South Africa, I did not fit into the rigid racial categories of Black, white, Indian, or colored- which kept me away from more challenging encounters there.
But this week reveals that at the end of it all, invisibility is a false friend. It relies on a racial caste system that harms all. Invisibility stands in the way of the things that ultimately keep us the safest: community, getting organized, and just being the best fullest versions of ourselves. When you’ve been invisible for so long and in so many spaces, it so much of what you do opens doors and breaks walls. You can give people their first glimpse at what could be on a stage as high profile as the Oscars, but it can also be in a space as every-day as healthy fatherhood, creativity, sustainable living, or whatever oddly niche passion has your heart.
I’ve never loved being Asian-American more than I do now.