Can the Anti-Asian Mass Shooting in Atlanta be the Tipping Point?

Vivian Cheng (2L) and Lauren Lam (4L JD/MGA)

On March 16, many were devastated to learn that a mass shooter murdered eight individuals and injured one in spa parlours in Atlanta, Georgia. But this struck a chord especially with those in the Asian-Canadian and Asian-American communities. Six of the victims were Asian women. While authorities have not confirmed that this was an anti-Asian hate crime, the overwhelming majority of Asian victims is a cause for alarm.

This tragic event sparked a mass outpouring of grief, frustration, anger, resilience, and solidarity on both mainstream media and social media outlets. However, the very next day, an elderly Asian woman made headlines after she fought back against a younger white man, who punched her in the face in broad daylight in downtown San Francisco. On March 30th, a video surfaced of a 65-year old woman being knocked to the ground, repeatedly kicked, and told that she “didn’t belong here” outside a luxury New York City apartment building.

Mental health and psychological experts have told news outlets that “many East Asian people across Canada and the United States are likely suffering from ‘vicarious trauma,” after seeing waves of those who look like them being killed or racially attacked.”

The Atlanta mass shooting is the deadliest in recent times, but Anti-Asian hate crimes have been on the rise for over a year now. There has been a 717 percent increase in anti-Asian hate crimes in Vancouver. Most alarmingly, many of these attacks seem to be perpetrated against the elderly and individuals under 18. Since March 16, protests have erupted in Toronto and Vancouver over anti-Asian sentiment.

COVID-19 and former President Donald Trump’s referring to the novel coronavirus as the “Chinese virus,” has certainly exacerbated the xenophobia towards Asian individuals, but this anti-Asian sentiment is not new.

Anti-Asian sentiment has always existed in Canada. Historically, this has manifested in government policies from the Chinese Head Tax to Japanese Internment to the Komagata Maru incident. These policies, guised under the furtherance of nationalism or protectionism, have intentionally aimed to exclude Asian individuals from the Canadian fabric. While these forms of legislation do not exist today, many forms of exclusion serve to alienate us from our heritage.

As Anna Zhang (2L) alludes to in her piece in Ultra Vires, many of us experienced microaggressions growing up that made us want to dissociate from our heritage. These microaggressions included anything from having our food called “stinky,” being asked where we came from, and having “white-washing” used as a compliment.

And for the past year, anti-Asian hate crimes have become so prevalent that Asian communities are being told to be extra vigilant. If this is the case, is Canada really as welcoming and progressive as it claims? Racism is now manifesting in a more obvious and violent way.

As Canadians, we are repeatedly told by our elected officials that we are a country built on migrants, and that we celebrate our diversity. While we want to believe this narrative, we continuously observe how “diverse” individuals are positioned in society.

The overrepresentation of Indigenous and Black offenders in Canadian prisons is shocking. The lack of people of colour in senior executive positions or in academia is also concerning. The fetishization of people of colour, especially women of colour, continues to dehumanize and delegitimize millions of people in our society.

There is no easy way to eradicate racism. There are no quick and easy fixes. We can only become better as a society, if we mutually and steadfastly commit to creating spaces where people feel comfortable to share their experiences, seek to understand what individuals are saying without judgement, and alter our behaviour in meaningful, tangible ways. Better education, dialogue, and support from all segments of society are the path forward. Then, and only then, can we heal and grow into a society that truly celebrates diversity.

As future advocates, we must remember that the legal system is not immune from these sorts of defects, so we must constantly reflect on ourselves and our systems for implicit and explicit biases and prejudices.

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I was born in Canada, and in fact, I have never even been to China (where my grandparents are from). And yet, I repeatedly am asked “Where are you from?”. This is a question that I am sure most Asian people, or even most people who are not white-passing, are familiar with. While on its face, the question may seem innocuous, each time this microaggression is uttered, I find my frustration and resentment deepen ever so slightly. I am not from anywhere but here.

It is these small comments that have led to my complicated relationship with my Asian heritage. It is only in the last few years that I have come to wholeheartedly embrace my Chinese background and even become proud of it. I grew up in a mostly white suburb of Vancouver, and somehow I unconsciously suppressed the “Asian” parts of my upbringing. I always wanted to be as white as possible, and eventually my friends teased I was “whiter than a white girl”— in a twisted way, that pleased me.

1. Microaggressions
2. How microaggressions lead to assimilation
3. Reclaiming culture

As future advocates, we must remember that the legal system is not immune from these sorts of defects, so we must constantly reflect on ourselves and our systems for implicit and explicit biases and prejudices.