What My Asian Sisters Say

Some of the language in this post is gut-level honest and may not be appropriate for younger children.

It has been a terrible day in Asian America, as so many of us feel the enormous weight of the news out of the Atlanta area. You’ve likely already heard about it, too – the mass murder of eight precious human beings, six of them Asian women.

I’ve especially felt moved by the outpouring of grief and anger from Asian American women. Because while these killings impact every Asian American, it’s Asian American women who feel the horror most viscerally. It’s almost so obvious that we might miss it – these weren’t just acts of racialized hate, but they were particularly directed at Asian women.

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Asian American Sub Stories 1

No, that’s not Asian American Sob Stories, but Sub Stories – as in Substitute Teacher Stories. Of course, the two (Sob and Sub) aren’t mutually exclusive; every sub teacher, after all, has sob stories to tell.

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Where’s the Mug with My Name on It?

Some of you have never had to ask that question. You’ve never even for a moment considered how you have name privilege and that every gift shop, at every amusement park and tourist trap you’ve ever been to, has your name on some souvenir. Sometimes, it’s a mug; other times it’s a keychain. It could even be a fake mini-license plate for your bike. You, the name privileged, walk into a store, head confidently over to the display of personalized products, and expect to find your name represented.

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