Photo by Werth Media, cc, Flickr.

Over the past week, news headlines, talk shows and internet

traffic have been filled with commentary on the shooting death of 17-year-old Trayvon Martin. Martin was

shot by Florida neighborhood watch volunteer George Zimmerman. Zimmerman has

claimed self defense, but there is strong evidence from witnesses and a 911

recording that Martin was profiled and targeted because he looked

"suspicious": i.e., he wore a hoodie and was Black. Now reports are

investigating whether Zimmerman used a racial slur in that very

911 call.

Deservedly, the incident has sparked a great deal of outrage and media

responses. One piece that moved me was Michael Skolnik's powerful and, dare I

say, confessional response: "White People, You Will Never Look Suspicious Like

Trayvon Martin!"

"I was born white. It was the card I was dealt. No

choice in the matter. Just the card handed out by the dealer. I have lived my

whole life privileged. Privileged to be born without a glass ceiling.

Privileged to grow up in the richest country in the world. Privileged to never

look suspicious. I have no guilt for the color of my skin or the privilege that

I have. Remember, it was just the next card that came out of the deck. But, I

have choices. I got choices on how I play the hand I was dealt. I got a lot of

options. The ball is in my court."

But social privilege is not exclusive to white people in

America.

As Asian Americans, if we are going to stand in

solidarity with our African American brothers and sisters, we must not only

acknowledge our forms of privilege, but leverage the influence that comes with

that privilege in order to serve as allies to Black communities as well as

other marginalized groups. There is privilege for many Asian Americans in not

generally being perceived as threatening, which allows us to move about public

spaces without eliciting suspicion.

On the other hand, Laotian American teen Fong Lee who was shot eight

times and killed by Minneapolis police because they claimed to see a gun

on him while he was out riding his bicycle. Korean American artist Michael Cho was shot and

killed by police, allegedly for approaching officers with a tire iron in his

hand which he refused to lower. In post-9/11 America, Sikh and Muslim Americans

are unjustly clouded with suspicion, by fellow citizens as well as the government.

While privilege exists in

various forms specific to Asian Americans, strong parallels can be drawn

between the African and Asian American communities and their

histories. African Americans like Martin, who are followed and feared,

have more in common with Fong, Cho and other racially profiled Asian Americans

than one might think upon first glance.







And while there is privilege in the "model minority" myth that that

gives Asian Americans access to academic settings because of assumed hard work,

high standards and good intentions, there is a well-publicized debate about discriminatory

admissions practices with regard to Asian American applicants in higher

ed. In K-12, meanwhile, researchers in lower-income

school systems such as New Orleans have found that of 450 students

surveyed (almost half of them Asian American), "over 70% don’t

have textbooks to take home from school or use in class." In New

Orleans, where African Americans are 60% of the city's population, Black and Asian

American students enduring the same educational inequalities have a chance

to unify.

There is privilege in how Asian Americans came to the

United States, which does not include a history of slavery. Yet, although the

public imaginary envisions Asian Americans as entering the country on H1-B

visas or as scholars, many of us come from a legacy of being exploited

"coolie" labor on Hawaii plantations, subject to unjust taxes

based on race, targeted by immigration bans and quotas, or considered less than

human in the eyes of the judicial and immigration systems. Many

undocumented Asian immigrants currently live in the shadows and toil under

exploitative labor conditions; speaking out against abuse exposes them to

deportation and separation from their families.

Coming to recognize our forms of relative social privilege in the

context of such histories and complicating realities is how Asian Americans

may experience Martin's death as relevant, and part of our causes, too.

Not sure where your privileges do and don't lie?

Take the White Privilege Pop Quiz,

for some food for thought. What your answers may say: that privilege isn't just

white, and the lack of privilege is not just Black.

Please do not hear any of this as my trying to discount the very real racism

and violence that are directed toward either community; this moment is not about oppression Olympics.

This is about the Asian American community standing with the Trayvon Martins

and Fong Lees of the past, present and future and doing our part in a

united struggle for justice.

Editors' note: This post has been

significantly altered from the writer's original, with his permission in

absentia.