‘WHY AM I NOT AMERICAN’
UConn’s Asian population grapples with feelings of invisibility in wake of violence
STAMFORD — “Invisible” was a word used often during a University of Connecticut panel discussion of anti-Asian violence Thursday night.
It was even in the name of the virtual event, as the panelists shared stories of feeling unseen and isolated after instances of discrimination or exclusion, from acts of overt racism to microaggressions.
“The consistent belief in the ‘model minority’ myth plagues us, rendering us invisible, and if we are invisible then the crimes against us are also invisible,” said Angela Rola, director of the UConn Asian American Cultural Center on the Storrs campus.
The panel, moderated by Terrence Cheng, professor of English and campus director at UConn Stamford, and called “Anti-Asian Violence and the Fight Against Invisibility,” was scheduled weeks ago. But two days before the event, a 21-year-old man reportedly went on a shooting spree in Atlanta, allegedly targeting Asian massage parlors and killing eight people, including six Asian women.
Reports of anti-Asian violence have grown in the past year, since the COVID-19 pandemic hit. Activists and elected officials blame former President Donald Trump for fueling the increased vitriol and attacks against Asians by his using racist language to describe the coronavirus.
The nonprofit Stop AAPI Hate, which tracks incidents of discrimination and hate against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, reports that 3,800 antiAsian incidents have been recorded in the past year.
Na-Rae Kim, associate director at the Asian and Asian American Studies Institute at the University of Connecticut in Storrs, said she was mad and frustrated by the shootings — but not shocked.
“Anti-Asian crime has been happening for too long in American history ... from the very beginning of Asian immigration to the United States,” she said.
She said it was irrelevant to discuss whether the employees at the parlors were engaged in prostitution. A New York Times article quoted residents who live near one of the parlors describing the area as the “red-light district.”
“All these accusations miss the point of the intersectionality of the violence and oppression that happens,” she said.
Kim added that Asian women are often sexualized and seen as subservient and submissive.
“This violence is not new,” she said. “It is the distinctive form that Asian women have been seen in American history for a very long time, in media, in history, in literature, in cultural parlance.”
Glenn Mitoma, assistant professor of human rights and education at UConn, suggested that it is relevant to mention that the establishments targeted in Atlanta were places suspected of sex work.
“I think the other context is the criminalization of sex work and of migrants,” he said.
“The truth is many working-class Asian women in massage parlors and elsewhere, they’re mostly in danger from law enforcement and others who would criminalize their behavior,” Mitoma said, expressing solidarity with sex workers.
“I don’t want to call for more policing, because we know that doesn’t help,” he said.
While many have condemned the Atlanta attacks, hesitancy by the local police to classify the killings as hate crimes has been criticized on social media.
Many bemoaned how the narrative shifted when the perpetrator’s crimes were described as a result of a “sexual addiction.”
“This is a hate crime,” UConn student Aubrey Tang said. “This was racially motivated.”
Panelists shared personal stories of their experiences as Asians in America.
Mike Keo, a West Hartford photographer who founded the #IAMNOTAVIRUS campaign, told a story from when he was 15 or 16, one which he referred to as a “landmark moment.”
During a discussion about field trips, a classmate said, “I don’t want to go to Chinatown because it smells,” Keo said.
Keo’s teacher responded, “Well, you don’t have to eat the pigeons or the rats there,” causing the class to erupt in laughter.
“Once it dies down ... all of them stare at me,” he said. “I felt so alone in that particular moment.”
When he was older, Keo realized why that comment was so damaging.
“It was the fact that she made my experiences invisible,” he said. “Chinatown for me were these magical moments where my parents would give me $10 to go buy DVDs or Gundam figures with my brother. It was were we got longans and lychees and durian.”
He said, “That was all stripped away from me with this one comment.”
UConn student Shaina Selvaraju told a story of how she was made to feel un-American at the age of 6, even though she was born in this country. She described herself as “the awkward kid with the weird lunches that smelled weird” and how that started a conversation with other students about her American-ness.
They concluded that Selvaraju could not be American, but rather Indian, the homeland of her family. However, one student, from Sweden, had recently acquired American citizenship, Selvaraju said and was accepted as American.
“What makes them American and not me? Why do I not belong?” Selvaraju said, recalling her thoughts at that moment.
“That became a series of thoughts ... ‘Why am I not American? Will I ever be American? Will I ever be enough?’ and that really impacted me in my formative years,” she said.
Aubrey Tang shared an anecdote when she was the only Asian person on a volleyball team. Once, during volleyball camp, she fell and suffered a foot fracture. She was shocked when no one helped her, but one person sneered at her and told her to get out of the way.
“That was one of the most powerful moments of my life, where I realized ‘Wow, people don’t care about me because I’m different from everybody else,’” Tang said. “That was one moment where I really felt invisible.”
Some of the panelists suggested reaching out to Asian friends and family members to see how they are feeling, though Tang said people should check only on close friends so as not to be seen as “performative allyship.”
Keo said many others have called and messaged him.
“I felt seen this week,” he said.
Tang said she also got plenty of messages of support this week.
“I cried a lot because I didn’t realize how much I needed to be seen and needed that validation,” she said.