I've been unsure if I wanted to say anything. Questioning if what I feel even means anything to anyone else. But as I learned more about the recent violence towards the Asian community (I'm usually a couple days behind things anyways as I don't always follow the news very closely), I felt the burden to share. And just how I feel prompted to share about my home or my children, it is in sharing each other's stories that gives meaning to this whole social media thing.
As I considered the possibility of my mom or my grandparents being victims of violence simply because of their race felt pretty devastating. And that is when I thought - wow, this is what it must feel like to be Black (and for other people of color). This must be what it feels like for my sweet friend who is raising Black sons.
While I have heard plenty of Asian racial slurs growing up, I may never truly understand what it feels like to be hated because of the color of my skin. I know that I have my own biases and stereotypes ingrained in me that I'm not proud of - that takes intentional retraining which I am continuing to work on.
But what I am learning from all of this is that just because I don't understand something doesn't mean it doesn't continue to hurt others. Just because I'm not a victim doesn't mean there aren't real victims out there. And just because I'm not passionate about activism, doesn't mean I should never speak up or stand up. ❤
Much love my friends. Xo
Pictured: my mom (who was born in Taiwan and came to the US when she was 12) with her father back in 1970.
