The Subtle Side of Racism
We live in a world today that doesn’t pay attention to anything mediocre. Miley Cyrus has to either come in like a wrecking ball wearing, well, nothing, or Beyoncé has to drop a self-titled album out of literally nowhere. And thanks to technology that rivals that of the Jetsons’, we have become subconsciously conditioned to ignore things that don’t immediately grab our attention.
Love it or hate it, it is the shock factor of Miley Cyrus that keeps her famous. By taking time out of our day, we, the consumers, allow for extremes that keep Miley Cyrus twerking, while celebrities like Hilary Duff (who also started as a child star) look on in the post-Lizzie McGuire life, largely unnoticed. And unfortunately for us, this culture manifests itself in other aspects of life outside of Hollywood and the gossip-starved media; it manifests itself in conversations that really matter to human co-existence, like racism.
I like to think that at Houghton, racism is a common enemy; something we can all rally against, kind of like seeing “ice pellets” on the weather forecast and still not getting classes cancelled (unless you aren’t bothered by that, in which case… who even are you?). And for the most part, I think most of the Houghton population could adamantly deny being racist—at least, not intentionally.
This is where the problem lies.
The media does not talk about a celebrity’s everyday life if it does not draw out extremes and intense emotions. Likewise, our community does not talk about the more subtle side of racism, the more nuanced side of it, if you will, because of the lack of internet and emotional outcry against it. But there is actually a word for this kind of racism: it is called micro-aggression.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term micro-aggression, it is defined as any form of unintended discrimination against minority groups—in this case, ethnic minority groups such as Asians. Whether that’s asking if I “speak Asian” or “am really, really good at math,” these sometimes humorous and even well-intended questions can act as a form of micro-aggression. Maybe this was some of you yesterday, and maybe some of you have never even thought about it. And that’s understandable, though perhaps not excusable, because we as a community have failed to talk about the everyday subtleties that micro-aggression manifests itself in. While we are quick to address more evident issues of racism, for which I commend Houghton, I think it would serve us well to think about the everyday realities of attending a majority-white school as an Asian. What does it feel like to be the only non-white student in your class? What about people assuming you know a certain Chinese student because, well, she’s Asian? Or what about even hearing compliments from people who tell you your “English is very, very good”?
This is not to say that everyone at Houghton has been either a perpetrator or a victim of micro-aggression. And this is most certainly not to say that race should be a taboo subject because of the potential awkward moments it could create. Rather, what I am trying to convey is that in order for us to fully understand the presence of micro-aggression that exists even on this campus, there must first and foremost be a sense of awareness and humility. There needs to be a realization that good intentions are simply not enough—it’s time to ask ourselves what kinds of effects our words may have on others, a continual process of self-reflection. And from there, engage in open dialogue with those who may be otherwise prey to acts of nuanced racism, to micro-aggression.
Just to be clear, I am not the only Asian voice on campus, nor am I even a representation of the majority Asian perspective and experience at Houghton. But if this article has done nothing else, let it at least be a tool from which you can start helpful and tactful dialogues with other Asian students.