“It’s Not About Me, It’s About Us”: Reflections on Hate Crime, Solidarity and the Importance of Stepping Up
We continue our commemoration of Asian American Pacific Islander Heritage Month with a personal essay that considers how the shared struggles of AAPI and Black Americans are inspiring a new kind of solidarity movement, and what we can all do to be better bystanders and allies on the journey.
“When Asian lives are under attack, what do we do?
Stand up!
Fight back!
When Black lives are under attack, what do we do?
Stand up!
Fight back!”
Amidst the heartbreak of the past year, and the widespread violence and rhetoric against Black and Asian communities, I find myself consoled at least in one aspect: there is a growing, tenacious solidarity among communities of color, an increased willingness among friends and colleagues to look critically at the ways white supremacy works to divide and diminish.
The media, too, has highlighted the solidarity rallies throughout the country, the policies proposed and the anti-hate crime bills passed.
But why does anti-Asian hate specifically seem to be fueling such an uptick in solidarity? Does a strong and stubborn push for solidarity instead of complacency have roots in our unique cultural or religious values? Not every Asian person in America practices the same religion - or any religion at all, for that matter. But a common value shared across many Asian religions and our cultures is the concept of a non-individual ego. This doesn’t mean we don’t have a “self,” per se, but that we recognize how our “self” is inextricably webbed with the “selves” of those around us. While American exceptionalism may attempt to displace this sense in an effort to individualize progress, our cultural roots and values guide us to a different course: “What is good for you benefits me. And if our needs are both met, together we are better off.”
As Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, our commitment to activism and collective awareness is inherent in our heritage and cultural contributions. We can do better. Solidarity can and should include action – including how we show up - even as bystanders.
But the rise in hate crimes in the U.S., particularly against Asian elders, raises the pressing question: why do others on the scene not intervene? Many of us were horrified to watch these attacks and see that bystanders did nothing.
Of course, there are a range of reasons bystanders don’t intervene:
- They aren’t sure how to intervene without making things worse;
- They don’t know the victim or the perpetrator, so they don’t feel emotionally drawn to intervene;
- They assume (often incorrectly) that somebody else will intervene;
- They fear the attack shifting to them, and they feel vulnerable.
School-based anti-bullying curricula provide explicit instructions for young people on how to intervene safely, and how to stand up to bullying. Turns out, adults need help, too. Fortunately, along with solidarity movements come great resources for taking action against violence. The Center for Anti-Violence Education, for example, recommends thinking of bystander intervention with the five “Ds”:
- Direct: Directly intervening in a situation.
- Delegate: Scanning a situation to assess risk and determine how to best intervene, and then delegating tasks.
- Distract: Distracting attention away from the person causing harm, the survivor, or the situation itself.
- Delay: Checking in with the survivor after the incident. This is essential because it shows the survivor that they are valued. Delay also means educating ourselves and our communities about systems of oppression, as well as organizing to eradicate violence.
- Document: If someone is already helping a person who is in crisis, you can document the situation by recording on your phone, or writing notes. Never post or share a video without the consent of the person being harmed.
These five “Ds” are helpful for all of us to have in our toolkit when we see something happening. This work is part and parcel of authentic allyship. And to reinforce the path to becoming better allies, we add these four suggestions as well:
Do your own work. Remember that it’s not anyone else’s job to educate you, particularly not a person of color. The tools are out there and many are free. Take some time to educate yourself. Revisit the history you were taught from a global and cultural perspective, consider what you’ve internalized, and step forward with a more full and complete picture. When you think you’ve “arrived,” dig in and learn more. Learning is not a destination, it’s a life-long process.
Examine your personal values. Re-align as necessary, as your values may shift as your life unfolds. Once you’ve identified what your core values are, step forward from that place. If your values are rooted in a healthy sense of self, priorities, and community, and you make your decisions within the filter of your values, not much will be able to steer you off path. A good ally knows what their values are, and why the work is aligned with them.
To put it another way: this is not somebody else’s work to be done. It’s our work, collectively, because our values bring us here.
Practice active listening. As you are working with others, especially in these intersectional environments, it’s imperative to respect the voices of others. Our work in communities requires a lot of emotional energy. We do ourselves a disservice when we listen to respond, instead of listening to hear. A good ally will listen and learn from their peers. And while we may not always be in agreement on every aspect of this work, we can commit to doing the work with grace and mutual respect.
Be a better bystander, or an “upstander.” We can teach the children in our lives about anti-racism and anti-bullying - but better yet, we can model better bystander behavior ourselves. Standing up for injustices when we see them, living out our values, and talking with them after.
And remember…
“When Asian lives are under attack, what do we do?
Stand up!
Fight back!
When Black lives are under attack, what do we do?
Stand up!
Fight back!”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jamie Schumacher, Assistant Program Officer
Jamie Schumacher traded the beaches of California for the snowy lakeshores of Minnesota. Her goal was to find an affordable place to live where arts, culture, and community could coexist. While working as the director of the West Bank Business Association, Jamie helped secure the Cedar-Riverside neighborhood as one of Minneapolis’s city-designated cultural districts. She's now part of the LISC family, working with the cultural and creative districts of Minneapolis and St. Paul