US is full of racists and I understand, based on first hand stories and literature, that Asians are the invisible colors there. We tend to try our darned best to blend in and not raise hell.
From J, I learned that the affirmative action was a disservice to Asian Americans. They get left out. They get dismissed and are the least priority.
From my relatives, the stories are like the expectation is that they need to do well, extremely well, for them to be acceptable. There was no other way. Asians needed to work doubly hard so that they can achieve at least the same level of acceptability or success as the whites do.
What I miss about J is the dining table conversations we have about these things (well it was just me listening and him talking). The Atlanta shootings of Asian Americans would surely fire him up and he would be talking nonstop over breakfast about this and that. The photo of that Chinese grandma attacked in California would make him worry about his grandma and also his brother in Alabama, of all places.
They were actually the first thing on my mind when the killings in Atlanta happened.
Asian discrimination of Asians is present too and I’ve been a recipient of that. There was one time I cried when I was explaining to J why I didn’t like being in Singapore. He didn’t understand the hierarchy among Asians, him being Korean and all.
Since working with this xxx who looked down on Filipinos, he somehow got the idea where I was coming from. Why I had to assert myself, that I’m as good as everybody else. That our being poor is not an excuse to dismiss us that we are all gold diggers, incompetent, and brainless.
I remember a coworker remarking that I must have Chinese blood because I was skilled, very good in what I do, and well spoken. I say WTF 🤬 can’t I just be Filipino and just as good? That’s how low the view us.
I always get this: “Oh you’re not Filipino/can’t be Filipino. You’re fair and pretty or this and that.” WTF WTF WTF!
Yeah, racism is one of the evils of this life. It tastes bad.
Yesterday I had back to back webinars and calls and I was writing and editing in between. I barely had time to eat.
But it was good. It made up for the patapon days I had that dragged me down. I have to admit my blog post the other day riled me up when I recalled this young biatch of J’s and the treatment I received. I keep suppressing my emotions so I can move on but when they surface, it’s like being hit by a train.
Repeat after me: I deserve better. I deserve better. I deserve better.
What is better? Me. I should love me. I don’t need anyone. No one else would look out for me. No one else would love my children and accept them. Except me.
No more emotions. It makes me weak.
