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My Turn
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From The Asian Reporter, V31, #4 (April 5, 2021), page 7.
The content of their character indeed
I look to a day when people will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.
— Martin Luther King Jr.
Amid the rise of violence against Asian Americans, I keep returning to this quote by Dr. King. The first time I heard the famous speech, the beauty of his words seemed to soar in the air. Honestly, though, I didn’t really consider the message he was trying to send.
That all changed in college.
To be sure, I had first-hand experience with racist jokes and taunting that seemed to be coming from all directions in my youth, and I remember a few times turning my back on these bullies with tears in my eyes thinking, "Why do they hate me so much?" As just about the only Asian student in my school, maybe I should have seen it coming. It occurred mostly in elementary school and junior high; luckily it died down considerably by the time I went to high school.
In the wealthy enclave of La Jolla, California in the fall of 1983 as a budding economics student at UC San Diego, I realized that racism, at least for some, never really goes away — it just changes forms.
I was excited about the start of my college experience. But first things first. I had to find a place to live for the next year. I went to the on-campus housing department, and since this was before the internet was widely accessible, I walked around looking at the "for rent" flyers posted on all the walls. I wanted a room in a home near campus. Each of the flyers had a phone number, and students could call right from the department to set up a visit with a landlord.
I immediately found one. It was in my budget and only a short 10-minute bike ride from campus. I called the number listed to set up a time to take a look. A woman answered and sounded pleasant enough. She told me the room was available and I could drop by right then to take a look. I accepted her invitation and told her I would be right there.
I got on my bike, and sure enough, I was standing at the front door of the house in less than 10 minutes. I parked my bike, walked up to the door, and knocked.
The door opened partway and a woman poked her head out. I introduced myself and told her I had just called. She glanced my way, then looked me up and down.
Very quickly, she said, "The room has been rented. It’s not available."
I said, "Ma’am, I just talked to you 10 minutes ago and you told me it was available."
She said, "It’s not available," and closed the door.
I turned back towards the street. I stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened. I felt a combination of anger and bewilderment. The first thought in my head was that if I had spoken with any discernible accent when I called her, would she have even told me the room was available?
You might ask whether this experience still bothers me. I’d say, the fact that I still vividly remember it 38 years later probably means it does.
It just brings me back to the brilliance of Dr. King’s quote. Not only did my would-be landlord not consider the content of my character before turning me away, she seemed to determine there was some unacceptable flaw in my person through an apparent clairvoyant "ability" she possessed based purely on observing my appearance.
Based on the way I looked, she couldn’t possibly know that I was born in Michigan. She wouldn’t know my favorite dessert is apple pie or that I loved Batman so much as a kid I would jump off my parent’s bed with a towel as a cape just to see how far I could go. There was no way she’d know my adolescence was filled with cultural references like "The Fonz," Hawkeye and Trapper, the moonwalk, the "Force," and Indiana Jones.
Unfortunately, being judged is a part of life. Whether you’re trying to rent a room, apply for a mortgage, or just find a friend. It comes with the package.
There’s a reason why I’m being judged. Maybe I’m a person who has no honor. Maybe I don’t show respect to the elderly. Maybe I’m self-serving and greedy. Maybe I’m simply a mean person.
If that is what someone is wondering, fair enough. But whether I’m from Michigan or mainland China, my contention is that no one can determine that simply by looking at my face.
The phrase "Don’t judge a book by its cover" is exactly right. The cover is just what you see on the outside. It’s the content the cover holds inside that counts.
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Opinions expressed in this newspaper are those of the
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