I became very used to hearing things like “don’t judge people based on what you see about them” or that certain words and phrases are to never be said. It’s a relatively universal concept not to stereotype or say slurs because they’re offensive in nature.

The problem is I was too comfortable like this. I became desensitized to believing that discrimination could be directed at me because I wrongly assumed that growing up in a diverse area would absolve me of individualized racism. 

It was a rude awakening to realize I wasn’t as safe as I thought, and I learned something invaluable. 

I believe people can learn from their pain. 

I’m an Asian American and I’ve lived in Central Jersey my whole life until college. I’ve always had a mix of POC and white friends growing up, but I naturally gravitated towards other Asians. Since I was always surrounded by so many people like me, it never occurred to me that I would be a victim to targeted racism while I was home. Whenever I took trips to the city, my parents would always remind me to be careful because I could be targeted for being Asian and a woman, but I simply brushed it off with an “I know, I know, of course I’ll be careful” without any thought behind it. 

I lived that way for sixteen years. Of course I’ve seen racism and been one of several victims for inconsequential things, but I never truly felt that being Asian or Chinese would put a target on my back. I always advocated for racial inclusion and eliminating discrimination, but in a way it was more theoretical to me and I didn’t think it would be something that could touch me personally. 

In August 2020 at the height of the pandemic, I experienced my first directed harassment for my identity. A person of color I knew for years said to me when I was alone “did you bring the Chinese virus with you?” 

My brain was completely emptied from shock. I was so baffled that he said this to me with full confidence and no hesitation that my immediate response was “what?” where he replied by repeating himself with a bit more enunciation as if the only issue was that I couldn’t hear him. 

I don’t remember what immediately followed that interaction, but I wasn’t mentally or emotionally present at 100% for a few months after. It was an out-of-body experience that shook the fundamentals of everything I thought was safe, and I disassociated with who I was and what I thought about the world.

My first line of thought when coming to terms with my experience was trying to understand why he said those things to me and what made him think it was valid enough to repeat. I wanted to know everything that caused me to go through this: what his mindset was, how his family continually tries to influence him to think differently, and how deeply rooted his prejudice was. But I realized he was someone who would never get off of the high horse of perceived superiority, and it doesn’t change what happened. He would never apologize or even acknowledge that what he did was wrong, so it would make no difference if I understood why he said those things. 

I think the worst part about the aftermath was how I invalidated what I felt from it. Asians across the country were victims of hate crimes daily, and I was hurt over a few words someone said to me. The repeating thoughts I had were  “it could’ve been worse,” “it wasn’t that bad,” and  “they were just words.” I came to the conclusion that regardless of the degree of pain, I still underwent a racist experience and any of the emotions I had because of it were warranted. Other people may be going through things worse than I was, but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to have any range of emotions because my experience was “not as bad.”

By now I’ve fully recovered from that experience, but my outlook on life has changed. I gained a greater understanding of why we fight against discrimination-not just because it’s the right thing to do, but it protects people’s mental and emotional wellbeing. Now I understood on a personal level, because it really was something you have to experience to recognize. While I wish this realization could’ve happened a different way, it forced me to understand the pain and fears of my family and why my parents were always worried about me going places. 

Undergoing something painful can be life altering, but it doesn’t mean that there isn’t light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve come to terms with a lot of things in the wake of the encounter. Knowing why someone does something hurtful doesn’t change the fact that they did it. All because other people experienced something worse doesn’t mean the emotions about a personal experience aren’t justified. But most importantly for me, I could deeply understand the anxieties of my community because I experienced a part of it first-hand. Pain isn’t something one chooses to experience, but there is often something to be learned from it.