Last week I lied in a staff meeting.

Last week I lied in a staff meeting. The meeting was for the Diversity and Equity Team in the public school I work at in the Bronx. We were closing the meeting with our reflections on the day. And I lied. 

The lie was in response to a comment made by a colleague who said he does not think he has privilege. So I lied and told everyone that I was scared. 

I was scared to walk down the street at night. I was scared of my mom moving back to the city. I was scared that the attack on the older Filipino woman was outside the building my mom used to live in. 

But the truth is I am not scared. I am angry. 

I am angry that six Asian women were shot dead in Atlanta. I am angry that elders are being attacked on streets in cities across this country. I am angry that I have to lie to make white men at my job understand what it means to be non-white in America.

But most of all I am angry at the erasure of my country, my communities, my culture, and my identity. 

Because that is the history of Asians in America—erasure. 

In 1854, People v. Hall ruled that Chinese people could not testify against white men — erasing our voices. In 1878, In Re Ah Yup ruled “Mongolian” people as non-white and therefore not eligible for citizenship — erasing our rights. The 1927 Lum v. Rice upheld that Asian children could not attend white schools — erasing our minds. Massacres and riots through the 1880s in Rock Springs, Tacoma, Seattle, and Hells Canyon erased our communities. The 1898 annexations of the Philippines and Hawaii erased our revolutions. Wars of the 1960s, conducted throughout Asia, which includes the secret war in Laos (the most bombed country per capita in history), erased our countries. 

It is time to undo some of that erasure. 

I have found solace in my AAPI teammates, and the community at large. But the most powerful moments for me in the past year have been the AAPI-only spaces. Whether cultivated through friendships, trainings, teammates, getting squatted by my roommate, or connecting with someone through Zoom, these spaces have given me strength and freedom. 

If you’re not in the community, take the time to learn about Asian American heritage and history. But don’t ask us to do it for you. We shouldn’t have to lie to make you understand. 

Learn more at Asian Americans Advancing Justice and AAPI Women Lead. To donate or get involved, go to CAAAV Organizing Asian Communities and Red Canary Song.