NEEM Magazine

Welcome to my world: a small town of 8385 people. We boast a less than 7% racial minority population in an extremely conservative part of an otherwise liberal state. In 2008 election lingo, we were part of what Vice Presidential hopeful Sarah Palin called “the real America.” So it follows that my office is equally as homogeneous.

The twin burdens of expectations and stereotypes were placed on my shoulders one day when I was standing in the workroom with my boss during my first year of employment at a non-profit agency.

I had some downtime, so I offered to help her with stuffing envelopes for a mailing that was going out later that week. As I stood there, wishing I could hire an intern so I could avoid paper cuts, she began to talk about her two teenage sons, who were both involved in numerous extracurricular activities at their high school. The question arose: “How are Asians able to get their kids to be so disciplined?” I didn’t answer her immediately as she elaborated, “When I look at graduating classes, theirValedictorians and Salutatorians are always Asian. They excel in sports and they’re always practicing piano…” As the myth of the model minority dripped from her mouth, I began to wonder if it would always be this way. Would a “teaching moment” present itself every time cultural issues arise?

My boss’s candid question caught me off guard that day. As a new employee and as a proud Asian woman, I knew I couldn’t just deflect her question and comments and continue folding and stuffing so I came up with a comfortable response that wouldn’t make me feel like I was patronizing her. I explained to her that although the label “hard-working, disciplined achiever is a positive one, I, as an Asian (who at many times wore said label) never liked the assumption that I would have a 4.0 and go on to a stereotypically Asian profession (medicine, engineering, law, business-basically anything other than the non-profit and activist positions I’ve held) that follows good grades and great expectations. I didn’t like the limitations that came with such expectations. I came out of the conversation with two conclusions: that she hadn’t yet gotten her head around what I had said and that this question would lead to many similar conversations.

The second time I realized that my boss wasn’t well-versed in the art of diversity in the office came during a staff meeting. We were discussing our relationship with a newly hired director at a branch nearby. One of the first comments out of my boss’s mouth was, “The only reason she got hired is because she speaks Spanish.” She shrugged her shoulders and a look of disbelief walked across her face. The same disbelief, accompanied by shock, rested in my gut. The location of the aforementioned branch was located in the middle of an area with a significant migrant population-a demographic very different from the one we served at our location. It made sense that bilingual skills would be crucial there. Could it be possible that my boss- an educated woman nearly twice my age couldn’tconnect those same dots?

I regret not defending the director that day. I was pacified by fear that my honesty would jeopardize my career or cause my co-workers to view me as a belligerent minority who felt entitled because of past obstacles. I didn’t want my boss to think that I thought I was better than her. Staying silent like I did in that meeting room was a mistake that I don’t want to make again, so I didn’t stay silent when my boss referred to one of our African volunteers as “white as anyone else here.” I didn’t stay silent when one of my co-workers expressed concern over supporting an international organization that sends books to children around the world-including Muslim children. Instead, I directed them away from ignorance and towards enlightenment.

Minorities in the USA come from a long line of oppression. I ask myself: If women were beaten in the early 1900s to gain the right to have a voice, why should mine be silenced? If MLK and his comrades marched for equality regardless of skin color and personal beliefs, and were imprisoned for doing so, why shouldn’t my generation continue that march today? And if Southeast Asians boarded dilapidated old boats to escape persecution in search of better opportunities in a new land, shouldn’t we find reasons to sail on?

The point is that minorities have a unique responsibility. We have a lesson to pass on, a lesson that began decades ago, originating from figures like Susan B. Anthony and John Lewis. They’re counting on us to carry on their legacy just as much as future generations are depending on us to seize the opportunities to fearlessly and proudly share our experiences and knowledge with those who don’t know any better…even if they’re older than us or wealthier than us and yes, even if they’re higher than us on the professional food chain. After all, chances are they got to where they are by fighting, too.

— MM Perez,*  NEEM Magazine Contributing Writer