Added: Lucie Artz - Date: 20.12.2021 13:26 - Views: 12555 - Clicks: 8488
I stayed in bed, made a cave out of the covers and watched the text messages roll in. It had been a strange and terrible night. I had watched an uplifting talk by a writer and friend, a survivor of sexual assault and a proud Asian-American activist. After the virtual event, I sent her a text, congratulating her on yet another heartwarming talk.
I searched for the news, found it: eight people, mostly Asian womenshot and killed in Georgia. Immediately, I pictured the stunned and grief-stricken faces of their loved ones, their world shattered by an unwelcome phone call in the night. An activist on the news, head bowed and gathering the strength. This is the movie that does not end, the ball of snow growing bigger as it rolls down the hill. The overwhelming sense of being other, less than, overlooked, deserving of this kind of hate.
I will speak only for myself. For so long, I have been the one to defer to the ideas, expertise, importance of others. In life, I listen first, speak later. I do the work of caretaker and advocate. I empathize.
This is my role, and I play it well. I will lift you up and affirm you, on both your darkest and proudest days but also the smaller ones in between.
I will notice when you seem a little sad or a little insecure, and I will point you toward the right thing in your life story or a piece of history that will make you feel whole. I will give you my energy and my time and my heart, and I will make things happen for you. These are the qualities the world has asked me to master. If I may: we are always waiting our turn We love asian be important.
In a morning news meeting for this magazine, a few years ago, I stood nervously to the side of the table where the important editors would sit each morning, the rest of us listening closely for the moment when we could interject our voices with an idea or an update. The news of the day turned to detention at the U. As we filed out of the meeting, I tapped the shoulder of my colleague tasked with finding a writer who could speak from a personal perspective.
This time, the conversation was different.
I told them what I wanted: a piece that says the thing I would want to read. A piece that tells me, as an Asian-American person who has deferred and cared and tried so hard to help, that I am worthy of the same. That we are worthy. Write to Lucy Feldman at lucy. Demonstrators rally against anti-Asian violence and hate crimes in Boston on March By Lucy Feldman.
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‘We Are Always Waiting Our Turn to Be Important.’ A Love Letter to Asian Americans