I still have vivid memories of my time as a young child
watching T.V. and seeing Ethiopian children with skinny bodies, distended
stomachs, and flies swarming about. The Caucasian man wearing khakis on the screen
pleaded for the viewers’ help. As I ate my dinner during the broadcast, my
parents said to me, “Eat your food. See those kids starving? They would be so
grateful to have your food. Think of the Africans.”
I’m sure I’m not the only one who has those types of
memories etched into their childhood. The question is, "How have those
memories shaped who you have become today?” More specifically, “How have those
memories impacted how you react and what you do about similar images, sounds,
emotions, and experiences?”
For me, the honest truth is that I have been both a softie
and hard-ass in response to anything that triggers those memories I’ve had as a
kid watching those humanitarian aid pleas on T.V.
I remember a time throughout my childhood (one that I’m very
ashamed of) in which I saw Black people as always needing help from others.
Since I was from a different race and culture, and didn’t have any other
perspectives around me in my mostly Asian upbringing to challenge my views of
Black people (fueled by humanitarian aid programs on T.V., my parents’ racism,
the dominant White perspective that surrounded me, etc.), I had an extremely
skewed perspective (as a child would). If the people around me looked like or
reminded me of what I saw on T.V., my immediate response was to see them as not
on the same level as me, feel sorry for them, and be glad I was not them. It
wasn’t just an intellectual idea or response but a deeply embedded and visceral
feeling I had. It was a strong emotion of feeling pity and sadness for the
Ethiopian children and families I saw on T.V. It was the feeling of fear and
anxiety that swept over my body, causing my little heart to race as I walked
past some of the Black homeless people in downtown Los Angeles; scared because
I thought they were in need of help but absolutely desperate and dangerous. It
was the feeling of superiority I had as I made friends with Black kids at the
Boys and Girls Club, thinking my family and race knows how to thrive while
theirs doesn’t. It was racism in its most unadulterated and seemingly soft
form. And this is what I mean by saying I’ve been a softie, because I felt like
I genuinely cared for them; however the care was poisoned with a false sense of
superiority. I highly doubt that I would’ve felt the same way if I saw Black
people as strong, independent, and complete human beings – something that those
programs on T.V. left out in their efforts to tug on my heartstrings. And
whenever my heartstrings feel plucked and the old sentimental song rises, I
wonder if I’m infantilizing the other and putting myself in the parent/rescuer
position.
So now I am an adult; and having gone through many of my own
experiences of being on the receiving end of racism, my perspectives have
changed. Enough people have done the chinky eyes look to me for me to
passionately hate being inaccurately made fun of and ridiculed for a physical
feature associated with my race. Enough people have expressed inarticulate,
patronizing, inaccurate, and over simplified views and associations of what it
must mean to be Asian; to the point where I want to lash out every time
somebody asks me if I know “Karate” or am “good at math” or why my people are
“bad drivers” or have “small penises.” My parents and I have experienced enough
times of being made felt stupid and left out for not being a part of the
dominant culture, to the point that I passionately despise the racialized
status quo that’s so prevalent in America. Being Asian is different than being
Black for sure, but I’ve experienced enough to know that people’s views of
other races must be tempered with a heavy dose of reality and perspectivism. I
remember my over simplified, inaccurate, infantile and softie-racist emotional
overtures towards Black people and want to avoid it at all costs. As such, I
have become a hard-ass, and often think, “Who the hell do you think you are?!?”
when one people group approaches the other with an emotionally charged overture
of help. Are they – are you – perpetuating an oversimplified and demeaning
stance toward the other? Are you taking away the capacity, autonomy, and
dignity of the other by breaking the butterfly’s cocoon? As much as I question
others, I continue to ask myself these very same things.
So it goes without saying that these memories, experiences,
emotions, and thoughts came to the forefront as the Kony 2012 (http://youtu.be/Y4MnpzG5Sqc) whirlwind
barraged my Facebook feed. I do not intend to ridicule anyone with the good
sense to stop a horrible man. However, I do intend to question what motives are
mixed into people’s sentiments and fledging urges to help. If you decide to
contribute to the Kony 2012 cause, will you also look within yourself to see
what lies behind your motive? Will you research how your choice to help or
withhold will actually affect the people of Uganda beyond what is stated in the
Kony 2012 video? Will you try to be informed beyond your assumptions? Again,
these are questions I ask of myself too.
I’ll end this post by sharing two things. 1) These links
here (http://www.globalpost.com/dispatch/news/regions/africa/120307/kony-2012-campaign-criticized-dumbing-down-conflict)
and here (http://hopewanders.wordpress.com/2012/03/07/the-kony-2012-party-crasher/) as
food for thought about what the Kony 2012 campaign may be leaving out (there
are also other articles online offering many other perspectives. BTW, thank you
David L. and Jonnali M. for posting those perspectives on FB), and 2) a spoken
word poem I wrote last year as I was processing some conflicting emotions and
thoughts connected to much of what I’ve expressed in this post. It is meant to
be read as the thoughts of an adult (who originally came from a third world
country and is living in America today) perusing Facebook pictures.
Merit Badge
What is this phenomenon of White people and their pictures
with third world kids?
They float around on Facebook like badges of pride,
Merit badges sowed on to their Facebook profile vests.
One, two, three White people surrounded by a small sea of
dark brown smiling faces.
You could see the joy in their faces,
I mean the kid’s
But their smiles betray and mask the agonies they have had
to march through
Because they have had to
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think the smiles are fake at
all,
For after all the porcelain veneers that cover teeth exist
just as much as the fractured teeth underneath.
Do you see the brokenness?!?
Or are you so stuck on feeling like a contributor that you
forget to mourn because their smiles appease your guilt and compassion hunger?
Are you satiated? Are you full yet? What do you want?
Is the answer to rescue more like these?
Are they the only ones that will allow you to rescue them?
What is the true answer? I ask!
Don’t get me wrong.
I’m not disparaging the humanitarian work that exists to
meet the needs of these people who count on the generosity of the human heart
and its capacity to give.
Please do see the wrong.
I’m disparaging the fucked up shit that is what exists in
what does not exist
As you click on the absence of humans like
these
As you flip through the other Facebook
pictures identifying the limits of whom to and how long one gives…and receives.
You see,
I don’t see
A small sea of brown smiling adult faces in
your non-merit badge pictures.
You know, the ones of you just hanging with your family, the
vacations that you take, those pictures of you eating out…
Should I go on?
Where do the Black, Asian, Latino, First Nations, Pacific
Islander…PEOPLE…in your life exist?
Is there only room for diversity so long as they are
children in a third world country where you come as an aid?
Is the only space in which you can hold the brokenness of
others who smile through hardships or mourn and struggle a place that is far
away?
What about your neighborhood?
Where do you live?
What about the bus?
Where do you sit?
What about your work?
Who do they represent?
What about your home?
Who is brought in?
What about your school?
Who is admitted?
You see, this is what I see when I see…
And I’m not just talking about Black people that need “help”
in Haiti
And I’m not just talking about the cute little Korean babies
that “need” to be adopted because they’ve been abandoned
And I’m not just talking about the First Nations people you
buy your fireworks from on the reservations
And I’m not just talking about the Southeast Asian refugees
you sponsor and host
These are the people I see and wonder when else
and where else are they in your life?!?
Beyond your “humanitarian” efforts and consumer interactions
and chance passing,
What should lead me to believe they exist for you beyond a
one night stand?
That they have not escaped one form of forced prostitution
for another?
The one that satisfies your need to feel like you have
contributed?
When are they more than that?
When will we be more than Facebook profile pic merit
badges?!?”
