Asian Communities Must Desert the American Empire and Protect Black Lives
By Xoai Pham
May 29, 2020
George Floyd was murdered on May 25, 2020, and we stand in unequivocal support of the protests and uprisings that have swept the US since that day, and against the unconscionable violence of the police and US state. We can’t continue with business as usual, which includes celebrating Pride. This week, Autostraddle is suspending our regular schedule to focus on content related to this struggle, the fight against white supremacy and the fight for Black lives and Black futures. Instead, we’re publishing and re-highlighting work by and for Black queer and trans folks speaking to their experiences living under white supremacy and the carceral state, and work calling white people to material action.
Tou Thao. The name of the Hmong police officer who was a bystander and accomplice to the murder of George Floyd. Thao stood by and watched as Floyd’s last breaths were taken.
My heart dropped when I saw his name — Thao is my cousin’s first name. I grew up with the name Thao. Like me, the officer descends from Southeast Asia. It’s not just Thao’s name that’s familiar to me. Asian complicity in violence against Black people is not new. Several years ago, New York City erupted in warring protests over the murder of Akai Gurley in 2014, a Black man who died after Chinese police officer Peter Liang fired into the stairwell of a housing project.
A multiracial group of protesters demanded justice for Akai Gurley. Meanwhile, counter-protesters — many of them of East Asian descent — vowed to protect Peter Liang, considering him a scapegoat victim. His protectors claimed that the jury only convicted him in 2016 because he was Asian rather than a white officer. The common denominator between the death of Akai Gurley and that of George Floyd is the deliberate theft of Black life.
No matter how we analyze events, no matter how the politics that are spun, Black people are in constant mourning. No words that I write will revive George Floyd or Akai Gurley, as much as I would like that to be the case. No words that I write can provide true consolation to their families, because they should be alive.
The theft of Black life has been the foundation of the United States since the country was born. The first police forces were meant to be slave catchers and exterminators against Indigenous people. Today, Black and Indigenous people face the highest rates of police murders. The police are not friendly neighborhood authorities; they are an army intent on protecting the American empire. In 1990, the National Defense Authorization Act further cemented the role of police as military by approving surplus military equipment to be sent to local police departments.
It shouldn’t be lost on us that this case of police brutality occurred in Minneapolis, in a state with the largest refugee population per capita. Before Tou Thao was a servant of American empire, his family had to flee Southeast Asia, where Americans had destroyed beloved homes and killed approximately 3.4 million people. Those who left behind their ancestral land in the wake of the war in Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos make up the largest refugee group that has ever entered the United States.
Within that same war, Black people were disproportionately drafted to kill Southeast Asians: the percentage of Black soldiers recruited were more than triple the percentage of Black people in the general population. Black soldiers were placed on the battlefield expected to defend a country that repeatedly stole the lives of their family and community members. What this means is that both now and then, both in Minneapolis and in Southeast Asian jungles, Black life is considered disposable.
Many Black soldiers ended up deserting the army. Meanwhile, civil rights movement leaders, from Malcolm X to the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, denounced the war as forcing Black people to serve white colonizers. These leaders expressed solidarity with oppressed people they had never seen or met.
Like the many Black soldiers in Southeast Asia, it’s now long overdue for Asian Americans to desert the cause of white supremacy.
The police department that Tou Thao serves is a mirror image of the occupying armies in Southeast Asia. Every day that he goes to work, he is doing the work of shortening Black life; he becomes part of the lineage of slave catchers and “Indian killers.”
We have been drafted to protect white institutions that come at the cost of Black lives. We have been named a “model minority” to convince us that we’ve been saved a seat at the table among white peers — but that table was cut, assembled, and varnished by Black slaves.
Asian Americans should look into the face of Tou Thao and see their own brother. It is our duty to bring him to justice, because he is not the only one. There are scores of Asians who have turned their backs on Black people. And they live in our homes. They’re in our neighborhoods. They come to dinner. They’re enmeshed in our lives. Which means we have the duty to make sure they do no harm, otherwise we’re in the wrong, too. The cost of inaction is another life lost.
There will be a day when Black people no longer have to endure this endless cycle of grief. We must be committed to bringing that day to the present. We have to act like that day has to arrive now, because every day that passes has the potential for another life stolen.
A world of Black liberation by nature creates a more just, joyful world for all people. But that shouldn’t be the only reason why we act. We all have a responsibility to George Floyd, simply because he was a human being who should be alive.
We also have a responsibility to Akai Gurley. To Tony McDade, a Black transmasculine person who was just murdered by the police on Wednesday. To Nina Pop, a Black trans woman who was stabbed to death earlier this month. Say their names aloud. Each time you say their name, think of their families, the friends they left behind, the homes they loved, the air they breathed before they were taken.
Situations of police brutality can leave people feeling powerless, but a choice lies in our hands. When we do nothing, like Tou Thao, we become accomplices to the death of Black communities. Instead, we can contribute to a rich legacy of freedom fighters, those who believed in a world where all people thrive. Despite the constant attacks on Black life, Black artists and activists continue putting forth the most fearless, vibrant visions of our collective future.
Here are just a few to whom you should commit your time:
Black Trans Men Face a Constant Threat of Police Violence by Ash Stephens. On Wednesday of this week, Tallahassee police killed Tony McDade, a Black trans man. Ash Stephens outlines the threat of violence to Black trans men’s lives. Black trans people are murdered by both police and civilians with little consequence. “After learning about the murders of Black men, I don’t think I feel more vulnerable now. As a Black trans man, I’ve always felt that.”
Amy Cooper Knew Exactly What She Was Doing by Zeba Blay. “There is, of course, a long history of white women in this country falsely accusing Black people, particularly Black men and boys, of crimes they did not commit.” Amy Cooper, sadly, is not original. And, as Zeba explains, she was deliberate in her decision to threaten Christian Cooper’s life.
“I don’t want to wake up to news of murdered kin anymore. I want to wake up knowing our kin are safe, celebrated, and cherished.” Alán reminds us that it’s our duty to channel our outrage into action. It’s not enough to be angry.
In a world where so many of us lack adequate housing and healthcare, the police budget does not need a raise. In fact the police needed to be defunded altogether; their budget could be channeled into methods of keeping communities safe while resolving conflict.
As documented by Vienna Rye on Instagram, Angela Davis reminds us that anti-Black violence is not a singular event. It is actively produced with malice by the white nationalist state.
A Small Needful Fact by Ross Gay. Ross Gay’s poem lovingly remembers Eric Garner, who was killed in 2014. Like George Floyd, Eric Garner was murdered by the police by choking, and the hashtag #ICantBreathe subsequently went viral.
A Small Needful Fact by Ross Gay.
Addendum (6/1/20): This article originally did not include the unique experience of Hmong people during the war in Southeast Asia. Hmong people have been historically been oppressed by Southeast Asian governments, which continues today. The U.S. Army leveraged this dynamic to hire Hmong communities to fight alongside American soldiers, using incentives like schooling since education was not something that was afforded to Hmong people. Now, the U.S. government is ramping up deportations of Hmong diaspora back to Southeast Asia. They are being deported from one hostile country to another.
Xoai Pham
xoai pham
Xoài Phạm is a Vietnamese trans person who descends from a long legacy of warriors, healers, and shamans. Her life's work is in dreaming new futures where we are all limitless, and she makes those dreams a reality as a poet, essayist, editor, and collaborative educator. Learn more about her work here: xoai.co. Catch her on Instagram @xoai.jpg and on Twitter @internetxoai.