Raise Our Story shares the uniquely beautiful stories of individuals who happen to be undocumented immigrants who arrived in the United States as children. The series chronicles young undocumented people as they work to achieve immigration equality, especially those whose stories are often left out of the picture. We hope to use the power of narrative and visuals to bring about comprehensive immigration reform.
A Thousand Names (Asian Heritage Month) // spoken word (by jasonchumusic)
And so our distance grew like the silence
Like we were the aliens they had raised and carried inside them
And the air between us is thick, but we still bear their names
And each name carries stories that we rarely even claim
The sacrifices of a generation we sometimes can’t even stand
When we pick up the phone and hear their anxious demands
And honestly? Sometimes we curse them
Say they don’t get it, they’re so obsessed with curfews and grades
either the Ivy League or at least UCLA
Makin sure we play the violin, pushing us to earn a high paying wage
And we judge them saying they’re just playing a greedy and self-centered game
Not seeing behind them the stories with which they came
The villages they left, little sisters they couldn’t save
Traditions that they lost, the homes they gave away
In the hopes that their children would not go hungry to their graves
So today? We come bearing their names
A thousand generations lived in the lands they left
We come because we pray before they find their death
We can speak life into the world and that’s the legacy they’ll have left
Let’s stop this facade that we are a beacon of tolerance. I don’t need you to “tolerate” me. I don’t want you to merely put up with my presence. All I ask, all I have ever asked, is to be treated as a human being, that bigoted jingoism is not injected into every minute facet my life, that there remains at least the illusion of decency.
Despite being a native English speaker who was born in New Orleans and a physician who trained at a prestigious institution, all people see is the color of my skin. After this incident, I will no longer apologize, either for my faith or my complexion. It is not my job to convince you to distinguish me from the violent sociopaths that claim to be Muslims, whose terrorism I neither support, nor condone. It is your job. Just like when a disturbed young white man shoots up a movie theatre or a school, it is my job, as someone with a conscience, to distinguish them from others. It’s not my job to plead with you to shake my hand without cringing, nor am I going to applaud you when you treat me with common decency; it’s not an accomplishment. It’s simply the right thing to do. Honestly, it’s not that hard.
On Friday evening, after the second suspect in the Boston marathon bombings had been caught, President Obama took to a podium, and said the following:
That American spirit includes staying true to the unity and diversity that makes us strong — like no other nation in the world. In this age of instant reporting and tweets and blogs, there’s a temptation to latch on to any bit of information, sometimes to jump to conclusions. But when a tragedy like this happens, with public safety at risk and the stakes so high, it’s important that we do this right. That’s why we have investigations. That’s why we relentlessly gather the facts. That’s why we have courts. And that’s why we take care not to rush to judgment — not about the motivations of these individuals; certainly not about entire groups of people.
The thing is: people actually had jumped to conclusions, fueling both suspicion and violence across the country. Multiple social networks and communities on the internet began to conduct their own searches for suspects in photographs. Most of these “suspects” turned out to be brown people with bags. Some people were identified solely by color or by supposed nationality. Some people were identified by name, and their names spread publicly and quickly, without hesitation. Worst of all, real people were attacked. Subtle and open aggression powerfully shaped lives this week.
We know that the creation of unsafe conditions for people of color, immigrants, Muslims – among others – does not appear out of thin air, informed by rationality or reality. They are a product of power and fear. Every geopolitical event of this sort has put whole communities on edge, anxious about the backlash against them. And while hate crimes get documented, the more subtle interactions of fear and hostility can slip through.
All week, from the coming Monday to Friday, we hope to publish submissions of incidents related to the recent attacks experienced by South Asians, Muslims, immigrants, and people of color. For this, we are asking for your help.
If you have experienced an incident of this type, please submit your story to submissions@microaggressions.com. There are no limits on length or format. (Please put “week” into the subject of your email; they’ll be forwarded directly to editors, who will put them up as soon as they can.)
If you have not experienced an incident of this type, we ask that you share this with people you know. Use Twitter, Facebook, and any other social networks to spread the word!
Thanks for everything,
Editors
Named for the original owner, Sam “Chink” Sherman, the name resonated for the man and not as a slur. But today, Groh says “it is very important to me, my family and the entire staff that we no longer inadvertently alienate anyone in the Philly community.
Identifying as a person of color in solidarity with other people of color says ‘hey, my people have been oppressed by White people, maybe in a different time and space than your people, but we can work in solidarity.’ The identification needs to carry some degree of humility, and a deeper commitment to allyship . The POC umbrella is not an excuse to disavow the ways we benefit from various racial structures and sit idly by as our communities reap advantages from racism towards other people of color.
Black-Asian solidarity in the US, for instance, is hard to find and it will continue to be difficult to build if we continue to use the uncritical ‘POC’ label. Rather, we can use ‘POC’ as a way of reflecting on our different racial histories and building coalitions in our struggles and their difference. POC is a term for building solidarity between movements, not a movement in itself. That distinction is important.
Submit your stories! :)
Some of the key findings reveal that the actual number of LGBT undocumented people in the U.S. are disproportionately younger and Asian than the overall undocumented population. The percentage of Asian, LGBT undocumented immigrants is significantly larger than that of our straight counterparts. We are 15 percent of the LGBT undocumented immigrant population, as opposed to 11 percent of all undocumented immigrants. This is a critical sign that we need to increase our efforts to raise our voices for reform in our local communities and in Washington.
Ummm… So here’s the video that’s been going around, in case you want to start your day like this.
And here is a series of responses he made on FB about the video:
- Jeesh, you guys are getting a little hostile
- I made a comical video, oh boy lol.
- Its a series. For example, why Id hate to be mexican, black, female, why I hate being white, etc. Lol
- I love being me lol. I dont think itd really suck to be asian guys, take it easy.
- I lol because it is funny to me that you take this joke of a video of me sitting in front of my ten buck camera so seriously haha.
Could you live in a 54 square foot space?
Chinese immigrants live for decades in tiny tenement housing in New York’s Chinatown. Poppy Harlow reports. (via CNN)