I’m riding my bike through my neighborhood with my family. The wind is light and the sun peeks out from behind a light haze of clouds. The breeze runs through my hair, causing a few strands to fall in my face, but nothing can bother me; not when it is so gorgeous outside.
That turned out to be a lie.
“Nǐ hǎo!”
The sudden voices jolt me out of my thoughts, and as soon as I process the words, I feel my stomach churn. The source of the noise is three boys, riding past us on their bikes. All three are White and perhaps a year or two younger than myself.
I feel my mood dampen. I can’t see my family’s faces, but I know all of us heard it. My dad, at the very front, keeps pedaling. He keeps his head forward. My brother in front of me glances at the boys but says nothing. My mind runs through a million different responses. Should I yell at them? Come up with a witty reply? Ignore them?
“We don’t speak Chinese,” my mom bites out from behind me before I can decide. I catch a glimpse of her face when I turn around. She has a passive-aggressive smile. Her teeth are clenched. She is not happy, and rightfully so.
The boys ignore her, undeterred, instead opting to gleefully zoom past us. Their taunting laughter continues to ring through my ears even after we return home.
For many Asian Americans, this is normal. Studies show that since the beginning of the pandemic, over 3,800 anti-Asian hate crimes have been reported to the Stop AAPI Hate National Re porting Center, with 1 in 5 of those incidents occurring in schools, and around 80% of those victims having reported that they were physically and/or verbally harassed.
Insults such as “squinty eyes,” “Chinaman,” and “ching chong” are being thrown at Asian people, as well as phrases such as “go back to your own country.” These words and phrases are frequently used to demean Asian Americans, and when confronted about it, many people try to brush off the words as “just a joke.”
But they are not “just a joke.”
Many Asian Americans have stated that they always hated their eyes for being “too squinty.” Imagine how they felt after discovering the viral fox eye Tiktok trend and seeing that their white peers were being praised for the same thing they were insulted for. Julie Chen, a Chinese American celebrity, went so far as to receive plastic surgery to give herself “perfect” eyes: the double-lidded, wide-eyed features of Eurocentric beauty standards. She was overwhelmed with hate comments stating that her eyes were now too “lifeless.”
See how exasperating it is to never measure up?
An Asian woman in the Bronx was hit on the head with an umbrella while her attackers threw racial insults at her. In Manhattan, a Chinese man was walking home when he was stabbed in the back by a stranger. These attacks are terrifying for many Asian Americans, especially since anti-Asian attacks have increased by a striking 149% since 2019. There is a feeling of powerlessness in the air.
So how can we prevent these attacks from persisting?
We can start at the root cause: racial bias. Since many of us were kids, we were introduced to troubling yet common stereotypes, such as the idea that “all Asians know how to use chopsticks from birth” or that “all Asians are amazing at math” (as someone who only learned how to use chopsticks two years ago, and as someone who struggles with remembering her times tables, I promise these phrases do not represent the entirety of the Asian population). By educating ourselves and raising awareness about seemingly “trivial” stereotypes such as these, we can begin to prevent bad “jokes,” unconscious assumptions, and possible violence. Educate your peers, friends, and family by introducing open-minded and welcoming mindsets instead.
Perhaps if they had been taught correctly, the three boys during my bike ride would have given me a warm smile instead of jeering taunts. The process will be long and challenging, but together we can eliminate stereotypes and welcome a new, peaceful mindset to the world.