Punch racists

(especially when you get punched by them)

tw: racism, assault, hate crimes, anti-asian sentiments. (Honestly, just delete this email if you’re not in the mood for reading more bleakness. I’ll even open with the cat photo so you don’t have to risk scrolling into unpleasantness.)

I got punched by a racist the other week. (In fairness, I punched him right back before being hauled out of the door by someone vastly smarter.) When I got home after the incident, I tried laughing it off before I got deeply angry about the situation. It took me a few more days to realize I absolutely got hit —literally, haha— with a hate crime, and.. I don’t know. I’m still struggling with the revelation.

It was barely a year ago when a friend and I were walking her dog, and a drunk asshole swayed over to talk at us. He was clearly trying to hit on my friend despite the fact it was dark, cold, and no one exhibited any interest in having a conversation with him. When I told him to fuck off, he screamed at us to go back to China.

(My housemate told me she saw a horrific scene at the subway recently too. A man, reading a vividly alt-right book, looked up at a row of Asians seated opposite him. With intense hate in his eyes, he stood and made the sign of the cross at them before sitting down, still staring.)

I’m very tired.

I cannot explain how exhausting it is to be a person of color in this world. To be queer, to be friends with other people of color and spend so much time worried for them, to be from a developing nation where the majority practice a demonized religion. (I cannot explain to you how many TSA officers have narrowed their eyes at me after learning I’m from an Islamic country.) To see which nations are prioritized and which countries are left to fend for themselves. To see how public opinion on a subject can change when the topic is delivered by a white person, as opposed to anyone else.

I started this newsletter wanting to talk about hate crime statistics, and racial biases in the media, and everything else. But I’m tired. I’m so tired. And honestly, I mostly want you to know that no one spoke up at any of those occasions. Everyone kept their eyes on their phones because gosh, everyone knows the rules: you don’t mess with unhinged-seeming people. Not unless you see a few more people get up first.

(I wonder what would have happened if I wasn’t such an aggressive bitch. If the doors hadn’t opened immediately after I retaliated. If it had been a long train ride with no escape. Would the guy have become dangerous? Would anyone have done anything before it was too late? Would someone at least have moved our corpses somewhere safe if the worst happened?)

There really isn’t any point to this newsletter, I’m afraid. I think I just needed to do a little scream. Last weekend was stuffed with human interaction but everyone was just so damned happy to see each other, I didn’t have the heart to ruin the mood. (If you’re reading this, friends, I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you that it wasn’t social awkwardness that kept me so quiet but the aftermath of a week’s worth of fuckery.)

But it’s a new week and I will make it better than the last.

If you’re still reading, thank you. I appreciate the kindness.