The audacity of equality (Ricky Weekly #57)
This is where I share 3 things every week with my friends and anyone else interested.
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A picture from my life:
Happy birthday to swey320 and dtran320 🎂
A thing on my mind:
A friend recently shared her frustration and anguish fighting the Trump-faction of her family. She said it damaged her trust and faith in her family and how hard it is now to smile and make nice with people who are constantly gaslighting you. That sounded familiar. Caring sucks. You get triggered easily and when you inevitably fail at getting through, you feel hurt because it’s challenging to sit with what that means about this person, your relationship, and who you are.
I used to fight my dad all the time growing up (not about politics, even though he is a Trump supporter). I remember physical altercations, him doing his emotionally manipulative tricks, and very long arguments that lasted until wee hours of the morning. Sometime in my mid-twenties, I just stopped caring. I got good enough at pushing his buttons that one day after probably six hours of non-stop fighting, he was finally quiet and his eyes got a little watery, which was the closest to crying I’ve ever seen him. That surprised me and I stopped talking, wondering what was the point. He was never going to change, and I didn’t want to care anymore.
My brother who is 15 years older than me still fights with my dad all the time. We’re the two children that got to spend significant time with our dad growing up, so we care more. Unlike me, my brother hasn’t checked out yet, even though he tells me he is. I constantly think about if I’d feel any sadness if my dad were to pass away today, and it scares me to think that I might not. In reality, I’m sure the sadness will be profound and unspeakable, but it scares me to think that it might not be because I’ve been removing myself emotionally to make the world calmer and easier to live in. It’s like getting over an ex. At some point you reduce the person to something so small in order to protect yourself that you’re incapable of feeling anything about that person.
A few years ago when I wrote about the “rise’ of Asian Americans in the aftermath of Crazy Rich Asians, I interviewed a number of Asian American friends to hear if they feel like there’s an actual “rise” of some sort happening. What I heard was a whole lotta eye rolls. That’s because hope is a scary thing, especially if the reality of living in America is being constantly reminded that you don’t belong through all the micro-aggressions and sometimes real aggressions. The people who do feel hopeful have what Hasan Minhaj calls the “audacity of equality,” but in 2021 it’s still rare to find people with that audacity in our community.
The hate crime in Atlanta this week changed all that, Unlike hope, your community’s pain is visceral and doesn’t require audacity to feel and cry out for help. You scream when it hurts. It’s a reflex. Stop. Asian. Hate.
A piece of content I recommend:
Son of Atlanta Shooting Victim Hyun Jung Grant Calls ‘Bullshit’ on Robert Aaron Long Sex Addiction Claim - The Daily Beast
What I’d like to call attention to in this sad news article is not just how eloquent Randy Park sounds when asked about his mother, but the very ordinary descriptions of his mother. She was someone who loved dancing and partying to Tiesto. Took her kids to expensive but good sushi. Someone who used to be an elementary school teacher in Korea. Just think about that for a second. Why is it so interesting to learn that an immigrant mom likes partying to Tiesto? These ordinary descriptions are extraordinary because America doesn’t see immigrants in full color. Instead, they’re just the “immigrant narrative.”
My friend Jessica has been talking about a project called Familiar, and it’s very simple. What if we collected stories and pictures from our immigrant parents from when they were living in full color, back in their home country before shit hit the fan or life dealt them a hard hand. Pictures of our parents who were elementary school teachers before they had to abandon everything to start over in America working at massage parlors. Stories of our parents who were successful businessmen before they started over from the back of the Chinese restaurant in America. If you’d like to help, fill out this form.
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As always, you can find out what I’m thinking in more real-time on Twitter and my essays are on my website. My primary focus (and where I focus) is on Flow Club.