On this historic day of Obama’s inauguration as President and the day after MLK Day, I found myself reflecting on the state of race relations, politics and family and recalled the development and progression of my interest in diversity, civil rights and multicultural relations.
After high school, I made the conscious decision to escape Atlanta for the “enlightened and cultured” cities of the north. The abrupt change from being the only Asian student from K-12 to being part of a majority group in New York’s Chinatown and multiple Asian student associations in college resulted in mixed feelings, surprisingly. Not only was I no longer “special,” but the amiable curiosity of Southerners gave way to a Yankee amalgamation of indifference, admiration, opportunity and, unfortunately with the rise of East Asia as an economic player, suspicion, resentment and even anti-Asian hatred. We’re not in Smyrna anymore, Toto.
Before college, much of my identity was defined as being the “other.” Now, it was time to forge my own identity. Taking Women Studies 101 in my junior year changed my life. For the first time, my eyes, heart and mind were opened not only to the power and pervasiveness of gender dynamics and sexism, but also to race, class, nationality, sexual orientation and their interplay. Afterwards, I wrote letters to the editor, marched in Washington, D.C. and organized multicultural events on campus, e.g. Race & Humor.
This class and these events re-set my world lens and in turn, set the course for my graduate studies, career choices and interest in community service. Ironically, I came back a liberal and to my chagrin, my home state and parents became Republican. My interests and subsequent jobs were difficult to explain to non-speaking Chinese relatives. For example, there was no equivalent at the time for a “nonprofit,” which became directly translated in Chinese as a “no money organization.” Not exactly something my parents wanted to boast about to friends. Instead, my parents introduced me as their “Harvard Missionary Girl.” After I won local public office, my dad minimized my role as “a sesame seed on a hamburger bun.” As an environmental activist and social progressive, my mother nicknamed me “tree-hugger and greenie.” I figured, the names could be much worse.
During the dark Bush II years (and some of the disappointing Clinton years), I went under, so to speak. Not defeated, but dormant and re-channeled. I focused on the personal and the local, to re-fuel emotionally and financially. I crossed over to the corporate sector and diversified my professional portfolio; ran my first local campaign and served as a town official; supported a local organic farm/CSA; performed in a community musical and played in sports leagues.
During my time as a human relations facilitator at NCCJ (National Conference of Community and Justice) in the late 90’s, many asked me about race dynamics and regional differences. Racism existed in both the North and South, but in different tones. Southern racism was more black and white and overt (e.g. MLK history, KKK, use of “n” word). Northern racism was subtle and often hypocritical (e.g. “I’m not racist, but he’s Muslim.”) Things have changed, especially metro Atlanta. The growth of ethnic business corridors, the Latino population, diversification of the Asian community and transplants from other cities have transformed the social, economic and political landscape.
For years, I remained hopeful that America would re-connect with its founding values and fulfill its promise of a democracy, despite being puzzled and disheartened at the gap between surveys and election results. Now, with a new administration that finally seems to be forged from and dedicated to the values of a democracy for the people and of the people, I’m looking forward to coming out of the political closet, this time in my hometown.
My parents and I still cancel out each other at the voting booth. But the optimism, vision and hope that led them to America of yesterday are the same values summoned by the Inaugural address of today.
The world is shifting in front of my eyes and the earth is moving beneath my feet. Today’s events are making history as I endeavor to capture my parent's historic journey from Asia to America. As I embark on a "new life" in Atlanta on this momentous occasion, I am reminded...
To lose the life you have for greater life;
To lose the friends you love for greater loving;
To find a land more kind than home, more large than earth.
Whereon the pillars of this earth are founded,
Toward which the conscience of this world is tending -
A wind is rising and the rivers flow.
Excerpt from “You Can’t Go Home Again” by Thomas Wolfe
