The Essay
Beyond the invisible wall
Navigating racial bias and building empathy in modern America.
By Cherrie Feng
I landed in New York City in August 2023 to pursue my graduate studies, 8,000 miles away from home. It was Christmas Day when I found myself at Bryant Park, eagerly awaiting my turn to ice-skate. Amidst the festive atmosphere, an incident unfolded. A woman, without hesitation, cut in front of me as if I were invisible. When reminded of the line, she responded with a scornful smile, saying that she understood there was a line, but what she didn’t understand was my “stupid Asian face”. Never once in my stay here did I feel the tangible distance of 8,000 miles so vividly, but on that Christmas night, it was palpable. I felt an invisible wall that distanced myself and people who look like me from certain parts of American society. It’s this invisible wall that renders us unseen and unheard—the wall of race.
Discussing race may seem clichéd, yet racial biases in this modern time take on subtler forms, like being considered invisible in a line. The palpable sense of invisibility sadly still persists. Bias against certain races renders individuals invisible, deeply affecting their well-being. At certain points, that invisibility seemed to be gradually torn down in a growingly diverse American society. From 2007 to 2020, there was a positive trend in perceptions of cultural assimilation toward Asian Americans, evaluated by their European American counterparts. However, when COVID-19 hit, during a short period of just 24 days, from March 8 to March 31, bias against Asian Americans rose after a 13-year decline. Social media fueled stigmatising expressions such as “the China Virus”, reinforcing the perception of Asian Americans as “perpetual foreigners”.
The only thing worse than the seemingly invisible, discriminatory act is its transformation into visible xenophobic actions. The identification of COVID-19 in China triggered a wave of panic, heightened xenophobia, and even hate crimes towards Chinese and the broader Asian American population. Such hate crimes, including physical violence and harassment, have a negative impact on both the physical and mental health of Asian Americans. Since March 2020, “Stop AAPI Hate” has received reports of over 11,000 incidents of hate targeting Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, as of May 2023. Asian communities were approximately twice as likely as white communities to report instances of acute discrimination related to COVID-19.
An ever more unsettling truth is the alarming realisation that exclusion of Asians has always been there. Historically, institutional racism was deeply rooted in America, with restrictive federal immigration policies targeted directly at Asians. The "The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882," seen as the first major anti-immigration law, prohibited Chinese labourers for 10 years, except for certain skilled categories. "I have never seen a descent respectable Chinese woman in my life," said a San Francisco policeman in a testimony in the late 1870s. Such deeply racist attitude was sadly also shared by the Congress and the broader public. Anti-Chinese sentiments contributed to an ever scorching hot summer for many Chinese in San Francisco in 1877, where their businesses and even their very existence were threatened. That was a time of national economic crisis, but the Chinese were the group to blame. History has proven that the US was wrong. Only from the economic perspective, the act had a negative impact on US economics by reducing both skilled and unskilled labor supply. Repealed in 1943 when China became an ally of the US during WWII, the scars left by history lingered. Today, violence towards Asians has taken on many other forms, sometimes through stigmatising language online. Why are Asians still blamed at a time of a crisis?
We have seen this story of exclusion before. We have seen this in Du Bois’ century-old reflections in The Souls of Black Folk, highlighting the enduring ‘veil’ that separates racial groups. Today’s world has undoubtedly dismantled parts of this ‘vast veil’ of racial segregation compared to Du Bois’, but the veil remains. The time when I was at the rink, the many moments when we are questioned: “where are you from originally?”, and the times of crisis, like COVID, when Asians are blamed.
Since 1979, May has honoured Asian/Pacific American heritage. Education, seen as vital in addressing biases and stereotypes, is taking a step forward. On April 5, 2024, Gov. Tony Evers signed a bill, requiring Asian history in Wisconsin’s K-12 curriculum, recognising the important role Asian Americans play in shaping the state’s past, and more importantly, the future. Including Asian history in our education not only benefits Asian Americans but also fosters knowledge and understanding of our heritage of diversity for young Americans of all backgrounds. There is racial progress, but the wall remains. There is work to be done.