Asian Americans: Choose Awareness, Not Compliance.

Andrew Yang penned an Op-Ed in The Washington Post on April 1 about the racism occurring toward the Asian-American community as a result of the rapid spread of COVID-19, in which he wrote:

"We Asian Americans need to embrace and show our American-ness in ways we never have before. We need to step up, help our neighbors, donate gear, vote, wear red, white, and blue, volunteer, fund aid organizations, and do everything in our power to accelerate the end of this crisis. We should show without a shadow of a doubt that we are Americans who will do our part for our country in this time of need."

Notably, he pointed out a historical example that he considered patriotic on behalf of the Asian-American community: the volunteering of Japanese Americans during WWII.

As noted by some members of the Japanese American community in an NBC article, however, in making this statement, Yang ignored the persecution and internment of Japanese Americans during WWII in concentration camps. After Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, the subsequent internment was used as major national propaganda to propel anti-Japanese sentiment and emphasize the importance of patriotic duty. While many Japanese Americans ended up getting recruited for military duty, like the Nisei linguists who translated key documents for the government, the removal of Japanese Americans from their homes was framed by the government as a form of patriotic duty on the part of the victims—despite the fact that many of those who were removed did not consent and fell into economic hardship after the war.

This is not the first time that Yang has been met with backlash from the Asian American community. During his presidential campaign, Yang's statements about his experience as an Asian-American man seemed limited; he made jokes about knowing lots of Asian doctors, wore an I Love Math T-shirt, and responded to Shane Gillis’s racial slurs by saying that the comedian deserved a second chance. While Yang’s careful choices of how he chose to paint the story of his experiences as a minority were intended to avoid polarization between communities (understandably, given his position as a Presidential candidate), his passive replies indicated that tackling racism was not his biggest priority. This was disappointing for members of the Asian-American community, myself included, since discrimination toward us is rarely addressed on a national scale.

Yang instead pointed to his immigrant success story to evoke the personal revelations that led him to some of his policy proposals, such as Universal Basic Income, but his remarks surrounding the immigrant experience seemed limited to generic immigrant success stories and stereotypes. One of Yang’s favorites was the model minority stereotype: the idea that Asian American immigrants can succeed through stereotypical traits of being hard-working, compliant, and diligent. The use of the model minority stereotype throughout history remains especially problematic—not only does it push forward a homogenized image of an Asian American, it has also been used as a tool of white supremacy to pit minorities against each other. For example, the stereotype has been used to degrade the black community’s accomplishments and success through the rhetorical question: if Asians are so successful, why can’t other minorities be this successful?

Andrew Yang’s choice to not discuss matters of race in a particularly polarizing way as a presidential candidate was designed to disassociate himself from identity politics. In fact, on June 8, 2019, Yang tweeted, “I understand the impulse, but identity politics are a great way to lose elections. We need to bring people together.” Choosing not to fall in the “trap” of solely being associated with representing a single group of people (presumably, the Asian American community) and instead appealing to a wider electorate could have been understandable, since as the third East Asian Presidential candidate, Yang must appeal to everyone, regardless of race. Yet while he should not be forced to define his identity singularly as “Asian American male,” he also shouldn’t be remaining compliant with racism altogether. This is especially important—as a politician, Yang’s remarks could possibly set a precedent for letting those who make discriminatory remarks, such as Shane Gillis, off lightly.

Ironically, in lieu of his appeals to unite the nation, Yang has also made statements that contradict those ideals. In September of last year, Yang came under fire for tweeting that discrimination against Asians was often not taken as seriously as discrimination against African Americans. This strongly parallels the concept of Oppression Olympics when it comes to race—a problematic notion, because different forms of racial discrimination cannot be comparable, as violence and racism cannot and should not be quantifiable.

This conflicting and often assimilationist rhetoric regarding the topics of race and identity politics is also present in his responses to the coronavirus, as he argues that Asian Americans should prove their patriotism to dispel the snap judgements and hatred surrounding the community in the present. However, it is not the responsibility of Asian Americans to prove their worth to non-Asians. While his intentions to build bridges and communities remain clear, Yang's desire to combat racism through appealing to the white community by "helping out" is just a desire to comply; it does not solve the large-scale racial discrimination against a community that remains in danger. To make matters more complicated, people of color have represented to the white community a sort of existential insecurity since the early ages of colonialism. As emphasized through Social Darwinism and the superiority of the “white race,” people of color and minorities are seen as a threat to the security of white civilization. It is also clear that regardless of how much time has passed, the white community is very much willing to return to their traditional fear of POC, heightening danger in the age of a pandemic when it is already magnified because of stereotypes and language like the “Chinese Virus.”

Yang remains correct, however, when he says that simply stating “racism is bad” is not enough. It’s inadequate for us, as a community, to stay pessimistic or cynical in an attempt to keep up with reality. Instead, maintaining and increasing awareness of discrimination remains the most important solution, particularly for us high schoolers. In an age when we cannot even leave our homes, technology remains our biggest tool for educating others through increased awareness and visibility. So, repost those articles reporting hate attacks and violent crimes. Have in-depth conversations with friends about what it means to be a person of color during a pandemic when tensions remain high. Write journal entries documenting your own fear or hate to which you can turn back to later for reflection. While it may seem trivial, if we choose to productively spread awareness, we can stay strong and survive. These should be our responsibilities in order to be able to move on—otherwise, after the pandemic, we will remain where we were, and it would have all been for nothing.