Asian-Black Solidarity Amidst Spikes in Racial Violence

Credit: Time Magazine

By Ranen Miao (Guest Contributor)

White supremacy is the violent ideology that has dominated American society for centuries. It manifests in different ways – from the Chinese Exclusion Act to the prison industrial complex – but in all of its forms, it thrives on and reinforces the subjugation of non-white people to preserve white power. As socialist activist and Princeton professor of African-American studies Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor expressed, “it is not hyperbole to say that white supremacy is resting at the heart of American politics.” But over time, racial minority groups have been pitted against one another—in debates about affirmative action, immigration, assimilation. Stereotypes like the model minority myth divide communities of color, using perceived Asian American success to demonize Black and Latinx communities through individualist rhetoric. Animosity between the Black and Asian communities are fostered by classifications that seek to exclude Asians as people of color and anti-Black language echoing racist tropes about criminality and work ethic. Yet these modern divisions distract from a long history of Asian-Black solidarity against white supremacy and prevent us from coming together to attack racist systems that subjugate all people of color, all of the time.

In mid-March, a white supremacist killed eight people in Atlanta, accusing Asian women of being a “temptation [...] he wanted to eliminate.” Using language reflective of the hypersexualization of Asian women in mainstream American discourse, the Atlanta shooting is another iteration of anti-Asian racism, one of over 3,800 instances of anti-Asian violence documented since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic. Since March, hate crimes against Asian Americans have increased over 150% in major American cities, up 1,900% in New York City alone; together with misogyny, classism, and xenophobia, racism is killing Asian people.

The Atlanta shooting reinforced what many already knew: that Asians in America are constantly perceived as perpetually foreign. Professor Angelo N. Ancheta describes this sociological  process as “foreigner racialization” in his book, Race, Rights, and the Asian American Experience. Still, the Atlanta shooting illuminated the similarities between struggles in the Asian community and the Black community, especially how police consistently harm instead of protect communities of color. The spokesman for the Atlanta police sheriff, the same one who said in a press briefing that the shooting was “not racially motivated,” also posted pictures on Facebook calling COVID-19 a virus imported from “Chy-na.” This was the latest in a long history of police ignoring, gaslighting, or brutalizing Asian Americans, which explains why national polling indicates that twice as many Asian Americans believe police treat different racial groups unequally than those who perceive equal treatment.

Many Asian leaders have consequently expressed that policing is not the answer to racist violence, echoing calls from Black organizers to reimagine public safety by investing in education, social services, and mental health counselors over more policing. Asian-Black solidarity extends far beyond policing: there is a long history of Asian and Black communities and activists coming together to support the Civil Rights Movement, oppose imperialist wars and colonization abroad, and reject racist immigration and incarceration policies. Many remember the Civil Rights Movement as an effort to expand civil and political rights to Black Americans, but as Scot Nakagawa writes, “[Asian Americans] owe a huge debt” to Black organizers for our ability to dream about a true, broad-based, and inclusive democracy. Many Asian Americans remember the gruesome murder of Vincent Chin in 1982, but forget Reverend Jesse Jackson and the NAACP’s work to bring attention to his case and demand justice. Even the unique form of racialized misogyny against Asian American women, which was a key cause of the Atlanta shooting, was first problematized by Kimberle Crenshaw, a Black woman who was the founder of the theory of intersectionality.

I urge my fellow Asian Americans who are taking this time to reflect on race to also connect with our long history of allyship, support, and solidarity with Black organizers and people. Calls to blame Black people for the rise in anti-Asian violence are irrational, divisive, and ahistoric. Understanding our common enemy as white supremacy allows us to more effectively advocate for policies that seek to uplift all people of color, dismantle systems of oppression, and challenge the anti-Blackness in the Asian community. 

In this time of grief, understanding the broader framework of racial oppression will allow us to more effectively educate and advocate for the elimination of racism. I am proud to stand alongside my Black brothers and sisters advocating for the end to racial subjugation, and promoting the dignity and sanctity of Asian and Black life. Contextualizing our pain in the multi-racial, intergenerational, and intersectional struggle for racial justice can help us feel less alone and find the inspiration to continue this fight.