Why We Must Have Uncomfortable Conversations
/Unfortunately, hiya also plays a role in our unwillingness to confront the anti-black racism from which Filipino Americans benefit. We are a famously conflict-averse people. Our global image is one of joy, athletic prowess, musical excellence, and a quiet sense of duty.
Yet, we are also a people whose inherited trauma stems from colonizers, occupiers, and homegrown fascists. Today, that trauma blends shockingly well with complicity. We must do better.
Yellow Peril Supports Black Power
By now, Filipinos in the US and throughout the world have heard of or seen the footage of a white police officer kneeling on the neck of George Floyd, a black man whose only alleged crime was the use of a $20 counterfeit bill. What Asian-Americans must grapple with is the fact that two Hmong police officers stood silent and complicit as their white colleague played judge, jury, and executioner.
This, and subsequent days of unrest harkened back to images of the 1992 LA Riots, which with no coincidence, erupted as a collective frustration against the lack of justice in Rodney King’s beating and acquittal of the police officers involved.
News footage at the time was filled with images of Korean store owners defending their businesses, by lethal force if deemed necessary. The narrative few spoke of then, and now, is that the same police force that acquitted itself pitted Asian American store owners against their Black neighbors and customers.
Even without the backdrop of civil unrest, white supremacy has historically forced a wedge between Black and Asian people. Just look at the euphemisms that have developed in tandem with dehumanizing stereotypes. One group of people consists of hard-working, collective overachievers. We are the “model minority,” while Black people are consistently implied to be victims of self-inflicted poverty.
The American Right used stories of Asian American academic achievement and business acumen as anecdotal evidence in a flawed argument that simple meritocracy, not racial equity or access to opportunity, held the determining factor in one’s standard of living and how one is treated in society. In recent years, this has even led to demonstrations, once again shamefully pitting Asian Americans against Black people in the fight for equal access to higher education.
Yet, there have always been voices of willful and ethical dissent. Larry Itliong, arguably the most prominent Filipino-American labor organizers, was at the forefront of a coalition that included Filipinos, LatinX, and Black farmworkers. In 1969, the allied United Farm Workers even relied on the Black Panthers to lead a historic boycott of Safeway supermarkets in response to the chain’s disregard for labor conditions and abysmal wages.
Throughout the 1960s, solidarity was a message espoused by Black and Asian American activists. Activist Yuri Kochiyama and Malcolm X were also known to have a long-standing friendship, literally embodying this ideal of Black-Asian solidarity.
One of the most iconic statements of solidarity was borne from a protest sign at an Oakland, CA. rally for political activist Huey Newton:
“Yellow Peril Supports Black Power”
(Source: Huffington Post)
It is this simple, yet subversive notion that terrifies white supremacists and casual racists alike: the idea that two people can support one another, even in the face of separate colonial struggles, segregation, sun down towns, and pernicious media stereotypes intended to dehumanize.
What True Solidarity Means Now
The United States of America is a nation facing an historic inflection point. And it is one that Filipinos must be especially cognizant of. Regardless of party affiliation, we cannot be a diasporic community that voices support for an authoritarian who echoes the ugliness of 20th century Jim Crow and segregation.
Unfortunately, a Pew Research study found that Filipinos were among the most supportive and trusting of this American president. Why is this the case? Why is our instinct to trust a nativist strongman, especially with our own history of fascism and martial law?
My parents lovingly cautioned me against attending the protests here in Philadelphia out of fear for my safety. I love my parents, but that was one aspect of filial piety I could not comply with. Something about this time stuck with me. The image of Midwestern Mennonites standing in solidarity with Black Americans reminded me of these Catholic nuns photographed during our own People Power Revolution. The fact that the least radical elements of American society are now vocally outraged should be a deafening wake-up call, especially for us as Filipinos.
Many of us would not consider ourselves radical. However, now is the time when each of us must decide which aspect of Hiya we embody: one of shy, demure non-confrontation or one which puts aside individual discomfort for the collective good of the whole community.
“However, now is the time when each of us must decide which aspect of Hiya we embody: one of shy, demure non-confrontation or one which puts aside individual discomfort for the collective good of the whole community.”
What We Can Do Now:
• Peacefully Protest or support protestors if you are able and privileged enough to do so. Open your churches as a place of refuge. This is especially necessary for cities and metropolitan areas where the police are using excessive force against peaceful demonstrators.
• Amplify Black voices. We must go beyond #hashtags and vague platitudes on social media. We must listen when Black organizers speak. We must hear, comprehend, and listen to Black people in our communities when they voice dissent.
• Donate. In one week alone, the Minnesota Freedom Fund raised an astonishing $20 million in small cash donations. However, there are many more bail funds and legal resources that need our help. (Allure and The Cut have great lists of resources and funds you can donate to right now.)
• Educate ourselves. To better understand the context for these contemporary struggles, we must first understand why anti-blackness is so pervasive among Filipinos and Asian Americans. Then, we must do the work to create a more equitable future for all of us. Black Lives and Brown Freedom by Kirby Araullo is a great starting point. This work illustrates the struggles both Black American servicemen and Filipinos faced in the aftermath of the Philippine-American War.
• Speak up to your family and friends if you hear or witness casual or overt racism. It isn’t enough to simply voice support in an echo chamber of people who already agree with you. These direct conversations will be the most effective way that each of us can directly confront anti-Black racism in our community.
Constante G. Quirino
Constante G. Quirino is a writer and stylist based in Philadelphia. While primarily a fashion journalist, his writing ranges from personal narratives, historical analyses, to comedic monologues and prose poetry. He is co-author and co-editor of President Elpidio Quirino: Statesman & Survivor, released for Elpidio Quirino’s 125th birthday celebration, with print on demand available.
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