In Los Angeles, Asians and Asian Americans find power in Healing Our People through Engagement (HOPE), a program aimed at changing the way our communities heal from racism, discrimination, and hate. Our partners ran the HOPE program in Cambodian, Chinese, Filipino, Japanese, Korean, and Pan-Asian communities. During a time of rising hate and discrimination, stories of hope and healing can move us forward.
*Some names have been changed to maintain confidentiality.
Combating Workplace Discrimination
Abbey had just immigrated to America three years ago. She was happy at her new workplace until she noticed her coworkers treating her differently. She overheard her coworker complain to her supervisor, “Why did you hire a Cambodian person to work here?,” after she had made one mistake. Hurt and upset, Abbey kept her head down and continued to do her best at work. She knew she had a heavy accent when speaking English, so she felt humiliated being treated differently. The HOPE program built up her confidence, and she was able to share her experiences with the group after three sessions. Abbey now shares her story with friends and family, hoping to spread awareness on combating discrimination in the Cambodian community.
Overcoming Racism as a Refugee
Chanthy was a kid when he became a refugee in Hawaii after escaping war and genocide in Cambodia. He felt different at school where kids would bully him, giving him the middle finger and saying “F*ck you, you stupid Chinese,” along with other bad words he didn’t understand given his limited English.
Chanthy kept his head down and worked labor jobs, like gardening and taking out the trash, to save money for college. He wished to move to Long Beach, California, where other Cambodian Americans resided, and dreamed of being a member of his cultural society again.
After getting into Chapman University, Chanthy made the move to California. He felt right at home, eating Cambodian food and hearing and speaking Khmer. Yet, he still encountered racism. White classmates told Chanthy to “go back to where you came from” and “go to the back of the line, little Chinese boy”.
Chanthy can still vividly recall these instances of racism. He kept it to himself until the HOPE program gave him the platform to share. He learned the power of healing alongside each other. For Chanthy, HOPE served as a powerful mental health intervention to dissolve years of unaddressed depression, stress, and anxiety. “We can become stronger, more united, when we heal together. I hope the next generation can learn about this power tool to address racism.”
Healing with Community
Trish moved to Long Beach from Cambodia to help her family’s donut shop. For the past four years of interacting with customers, she remembers certain comments made about her homeland that made her feel uneasy. “Is that the country where you fought against yourself?” “The food is dirty.” “It isn’t safe there.” One regular customer, who was also Cambodian, constantly tried to convince her to abandon her culture. “You’re here now, you have to be American.” These types of comments stayed with Trish. “They hate me right in front of me and I don’t know why.”
After completing the HOPE program, Trish came to understand the hate and racism behind those comments and the lasting impacts of intergenerational trauma. She heard from older generations who survived genocide in the Khmer Rouge and resettled in America. “They always fight for the truth, and that inspires me.” Trish wanted to stay involved with her community and volunteered to be a dancer in the Cambodia Town Cultural Parade and Festival, an endeavor she never considered before. It was her way of practicing radical healing and hope. “We are stronger when we celebrate together, when we walk through it together.” With a new sense of community pride, Trish draws strength from those who persevered before her and continues to volunteer at local events and speak up for her community.
Speaking Up Against Bullying
20-year-old Lian immigrated during the rise of violence and racism against Asians in 2020. As this was her first impression of America, Lian believed it to be the status quo. At school, Lian was hyper aware of her accent after a group project. Her classmates avoided her and chose someone else to present the project because they felt “her English is not good enough”. After joining HOPE and hearing others speak freely, Lian began to open up. “I guess my accent isn’t so bad… It’s okay for me to speak up.” HOPE shifted Lian’s mindset and empowered her to advocate for not only herself, but her friends who are also victims of bullying.
Paving a Path Forward
As a 46 year-old Taiwanese immigrant, Jen worked as a housekeeper for hotels, cleaning up to 16 rooms a day. Over time, she noticed her manager didn’t assign as many rooms to other housekeepers compared to her and her Asian colleagues. Jen knew this was wrong, but didn’t know how to voice her concerns given her limited English. The discriminatory and demanding work began to take a toll on her physical and mental health. That’s when she decided to transfer to a different hotel, hoping things would change. But, the discrimination was the same. At the doctors, Jen also had trouble conveying her pain and understanding the medication. She felt defeated and stuck in a vicious cycle. “I’d do anything for my kids, the reason [why I endured the pain] is for my kids.”
At 70 years old, Jen completed the HOPE program in her native language, Mandarin, shifted her mindset. She heard similar stories from her peers and learned of different ways people could take action and advocate for more, no matter the situation. “It transformed my mindset. I feel at ease, knowing that if I ever run into institutional harm again, there is a way out of it. If I could talk to my old self, I would tell her to actively look for resources, like the HOPE program.” Today, Jen shares her story with other elders to encourage their resilience and teaches her grandkids to advocate for themselves.
Becoming Whole with Heritage
Growing up in the midwest, Taylor was often called “exotic” by classmates, teachers, and neighbors causing her to feel alienated. On top of that, Taylor doesn’t speak Tagalog as a first-generation Filipino American. She began feeling disconnected from herself and became an angry person, without the words to describe why. After the HOPE program, Taylor learned more about her heritage and found community with other Filipino Americans who shared similar experiences. “I always felt like I was in the middle and not meant to be who I want to be. I was never meant to be American. I was never meant to be Filipino. But, now I see that being proud of my heritage is who I want to be.”
Addressing Internalized Racism
Crystal grew up hearing “You should marry a white man, you’ll be better off.” As someone who is half Japanese American and half Chinese American, she often felt othered. Some friends said she “wasn’t attractive” because she wasn’t Wasian (white and Asian) like they were. When Crystal started dating, her white partners would fetishize and reduce her to her Asian identity. She couldn’t share this with anyone, and when Crystal moved to rural Ohio for college, she felt even more isolated. Through HOPE, she connected with a diverse group of Japanese Americans and cultivated solidarity amongst others who held similar emotions. Crystal realized the impact of her childhood and the constant appeal to whiteness. “HOPE brought this issue [internalized racism] to light for me. I’m determined to address the root of my childhood trauma to become the best therapist I can be.”
Preserving Cultural Representation
Yana was excited in her role as a consultant on Hollywood films representing Japanese culture, especially during the ’90s when there wasn’t much Asian representation in entertainment. However, Yana was never offered an official contract and was not recognized in the credits, while other American consultants were.
When she spoke up, the directors pressured and manipulated her, saying if she doesn’t help, then the movie won’t work out. Yana tells her husband, only to hear “Shikata ga nai,” or “It cannot be helped, let it go”. She became depressed and, in the years afterwards, she was discouraged to seek similar opportunities. “To this day, it is my biggest regret.”
After completing the HOPE program in her native language 30 years later, Yana was able to share and learn from others’ experiences with racism and became motivated to overcome this block. “I used to be angry, but the title doesn’t really matter anymore. It [Engaging] makes me feel confident, knowing I can still make a difference in my community in new ways.” Once the HOPE program concluded, Yana organized a cultural event with dance and song for monolingual, immigrant communities to enjoy and even took to the stage herself. “I feel a new sense of freedom in my life. I won’t restrict myself anymore, and I’ll encourage other elders to do the same.”
Shedding The Pain of Racism
Kathy is a first-generation immigrant who was bullied for her cultural differences and accent and was outcasted in her neighborhood. During the HOPE program, she had an emotional and cathartic moment as she revealed an incredible amount of pain for the first time. Kathy was able to share freely and without interruption or problem-solving from other participants and facilitators. Tears were shed as she shared how these microaggressions severely affected her mental health throughout her life.
Searching for Acceptance & Community
Throughout her childhood, Rachel felt her Asian identity on display. At seven years old, she remembers falling behind in school since English is her second language. “Her eyes look different,” “Her and her mom are Asian prostitutes,” she would hear from classmates. In middle school, Rachel changed the way she spoke to sound more “white” and begged her parents to make the 40 minute drive to Abercrombie and Hollister so she can dress like her white peers.
In college, she was excited to connect with more Korean Americans, but only felt more isolated after hearing “You’re literally just a white girl in an Asian girl’s body.” This constant and negative awareness of her identity developed into severe social anxiety. Rachel began to internalize her trauma and self-isolated as an adult. “I felt othered no matter what I did.”
Rachel gave herself one last shot and moved to Koreatown, Los Angeles to search for community and healing. There, she came across the HOPE program from Koreatown Youth+ Community Center (KYCC). Being in a group with fellow Korean Americans with different experiences of hate showed Rachel how much she actually had in common with her community. “I never even thought to think of a better future for myself – I now have hope that there’s a world where things could look different from what I experienced.”
HOPE fostered community connectedness and cohesion for Rachel and empowered her to give back to herself and the Koreatown community. Today, Rachel meets regularly with her HOPE community group to continue their journey towards radical healing, together, and share ways to engage with community partners like KYCC.
Healing Through Activism
At the height of anti-Asian hate, a man on the bus yelled, “Ch-nk, speak English!”. Joy sat behind the target of these slurs, Chinese ladies speaking in Cantonese, who didn’t understand what was going on. When the man began muttering racist sounds “resembling” Asian languages, Joy stood up to defend them. Thankfully, the man backed down and got off at the next stop.
As an activist, Joy is determined to advocate for others but never stopped to heal from her own experiences. “Hey! Jackie Chan!” her “friend” taunted while slanting their eyes and throwing rocks at her. After completing the HOPE program, Joy “healed her inner child” who had to hide in bushes to avoid bullying. She connected to the broader Asian community and related to others’ journey in healing from similar experiences. “We were taught to minimize our feelings. HOPE is the opposite of that, we’re doing this radical act of sharing emotions and becoming stronger.”
Moving Towards Radical Healing
Linda was waiting for her husband to return when she heard yelling outside. She came out to see a man circling her husband. “Asians are ugly! What’re YOU doing in THIS neighborhood? You don’t own this property!” The man berated them as he followed them into the apartment complex. Scared, Linda called the cops. When they arrived, the man had left. Linda tried to file a police report only to be met with “People are allowed to have opinions,”.
As a Japanese American woman, whose grandparents survived the WWll internment camps, she knew this act of hate wasn’t merely an opinion. Linda and her husband began taking extra precautions. They installed security cameras, carried a bat in the car, and stopped running errands at night.
After joining the HOPE program, Linda realized that her and her husband had only been coping, rather than truly healing, from their trauma. The shift in mindset empowered Linda to take action towards radical healing. “It fired me up! I even started a podcast to share Asian American experiences.”
Transforming Pain to Power
Coming from a low-income, immigrant family, Lucille felt like a fish out of water at Berkeley where the wealth disparity between her and her classmates was stark. She worked graveyard shifts, running on two hours of sleep, to support her family as the eldest daughter. Her hard work paid off when she got a job out of undergrad as a research assistant. But, what she thought was stability, turned into a detriment to her well being.
“How could you not order rice, you’re Asian!” “Eat this [soy sauce] with your rice.” Her supervisors berated her for any mistake and hurled racist comments at her everyday. After a couple of months, Lucille would break down crying at work to which her supervisors would tease her over. She knew this couldn’t go on and reported the harassment to the department lead. Instead of supporting her, they gaslit her saying “You can’t handle this job,”.
Lucille felt defeated and stuck in a horrible place. She began to document everything and accumulated 18 pages full of racist and hateful incidents to send an official report to the Labor Relations and Office of Discrimination. The attorney for her case determined none of the incidents were “serious” enough to be considered. In the end, Lucille took a demotion to be moved to a different department.
The trauma led her to intensive therapy. But, even with therapy, Lucille felt isolated. After completing the HOPE program, she transformed her trauma, depression, and anxiety into compassionate action. “It forces you to reflect with compassion alongside others. The dialogue pushed me to reach out to my friends to talk about our experiences with racism and heal together.” Now, as Lucille embarks on her journey to become a doctor, she hopes to bring this new perspective of radical hope and care to her future patients of color.