We Must Speak Up Because #BlackLivesMatter

Photo credit: Paul Sableman via Creative Commons

Heart heavy, I forced myself to go to bed last night.

Part of me wanted to throw the covers over my head and cuddle with my husband. To lose myself in some mindless television. But I couldn’t stop scrolling through my Facebook feed as my friends shared the same hurt, anger, and frustration that welled inside of me. More reason to hold my black husband tighter. More reason to check just one more time on my biracial children sleeping peacefully in their beds.

The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was check Facebook. Why Facebook? Because all the major news outlets did not report what mattered most to us, our nation. They reported the facts about Darren Wilson’s freedom, his recent marriage, and how he’s been shopping around with news outlets. Those news outlets ignored how this ruling reaffirms the racism and oppression in the United States.

The land of the free and the home of the brave. Except that doesn’t apply if you’re an unarmed black teenager.

I had to hold back tears as I drove Jaxson to preschool this morning. My newly minted 5-year-old chatted happily about Star Wars villains and heroes in the back seat while I tried to distract myself with cheery Christmas music on the radio. He is so happy. And innocent. Oblivious to what’s going on in our country. The country that my parents embraced when they had to flee their country of birth.

How long can I keep his innocence? How long can I keep my 9-year-old daughter’s? I don’t know. They can’t live in a bubble forever. I look at my children’s beautiful faces and I see them for the amazing humans as they are: compassionate, sensitive, smart, and happy.

Others will look at them and only see their blackness, even if they are more than their brown skin.

That’s the reality. While I don’t like this fact, I have to prepare them for it.

As a Vietnamese American, I was taught by my parents to stay quiet and not cause trouble. Asian Americans have been pigeonholed as the model minority because we were groomed to respect authority and not cause trouble. We’re not safe either. No person of color is safe in this country.

I’m asking everyone, especially my fellow Asian Americans to speak out. Speak up about these injustices. Speak up about the racism. Our fellow African Americans are our community too. For some of us, our fellow African American is our family. They are our husbands, our wives, our sons, our daughters. My husband, my son, my daughter.

As a nation, as a community we have to speak up even if the racism is not directed at our own skin. We speak need to speak up on behalf of our fellow humans. It’s scary. I know. I’m scared. As much as I like to bicker and argue with my husband for the sheer joy of it, he makes me feel safe. While I may not feel safe putting all of this in a public space, I can’t sit in silence.

I’m not sure what I need to do to change the racism and oppression in the United States. I feel helpless. And today, a little less hopeful that change can happen in my lifetime. But my ears and eyes are open. I’m lucky to have many friends who feel the same way I do. Friends who aren’t afraid to speak up. Friends who make sure that we hear the real story–the right story. Not just what the news outlets have to say.

Please, join me. Speak up. We cannot hide behind our screens and Facebook memes anymore.

No matter what color our skin is we must all speak up. Boldly. Loudly. Confidently.

Change happens in little waves. The more waves we create, the sooner we can create a tsunami.

That is my hope.