This is my Truth.
To My Fellow BIPOC Peers — You Are Worthy of Love, Care, & Guidance
As many times as I have sat down to write this and figure out the right words to say, I find it is best to just be unapologetically me. No one has ever heard the full story of everything I experienced up there. It has taken me an incredibly long time to share this and I share it because I think it is important to inform others (specifically the BIPOC community) about real things like this AND to let others know they are not alone if they are going through this.
It will get better, I promise.
In Fall of 2019, I attended Northern Michigan University (NMU) in Marquette, Michigan. I thought it was the perfect school for me being that it was on the smaller end of students, meaning more one-on-one interactions with professors, the hospital was right next door, and biology labs were outside. Boy, was I wrong.
As someone who has grown up in a very progressive and diverse city, living in Marquette was a HUGE culture shock to me. In Marquette, the diversity rate came specifically from NMU and that was less than 3% in the entire population of students. To which, most of these people (students included) had never been surrounded or seen Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC), in other words very “closed-minded” people.
The day I moved in, I remember my mom struggling to get the cart of my belongings up the curb, so a White boy came over and helped lift it for her. He then proceeds to say, “Thank you” in Chinese. I heard that and was immediately appalled. I walked over and said, “Thank you, but we’re not Chinese”. And in me saying that, I definitely hurt his ego in front of his buddies, because he then proceeds to say, “But, you understood that right?” in a very cocky tone. In my mind, 1 — even this White boy knew a basic Chinese greeting, 2 — he helped my mom and said “thank you”?, and 3 — he automatically assumed we were Chinese because we were Asian.
And that was just the beginning, who would have known. Being a freshman, I knew I had to put myself out there to get to know people and at the time, I had so much self-love — something I built up throughout my years in high school. Within a week of school, no matter how much I put myself out there, nothing would budge. And then I understood, people just did not like me because I was different — Asian. Sometimes, I felt like I was talking to a wall because I would often get no response and this was with both students and professors. I often walked around campus with AirPods in my ears at all times just so I could avoid snickers or whispers about me. And even being followed in stores like Target or Walmart because they thought I would steal, to literally walking to the other side of the hallway because I was there. (Another thing I want to mention is that I found it very odd that on the Walmart wall of “Missing People”, a majority of them were BIPOC from the area.) I remember the first time someone walked to the other side of the hallway in front of me, in a rather not normal pace — like he ran as if he was disgusted to be in my space. It made me feel numb, while hot tears were on the verge of falling when it first happened and after awhile, it just made me feel like absolute shit. I had never experienced anything of that sort in my life. And man, getting food was probably the worst and this was breakfast, lunch, and dinner — granted, I definitely skipped meals to avoid this. Everyone before and after me would always be greeted with a gracious warm smile, but whenever it came to my turn, all I got was a silent, stern look. At that point, I understood that I did not blend in, rather I am noticed.
One of my still very good friends from NMU, who is Black, we always had very heart-to-heart conversations about our experiences at NMU and how being a BIPOC there, we both lost a lot of self-love and confidence we had prior to going there. But, we both were stubborn in that fact that we wanted to exist as ourselves and not as something we were not — White. As a BIPOC, you do not get an “on or off” switch for when you want to be seen or not seen. And something she and many other BIPOC folks, especially Black folks said, was that what they were experiencing there was nothing new to them, it was just amplified because there was literally no diversity there. I have never forgotten that to this day.
There was a day where I missed class because I had drank too much coffee while studying and got very sick (granted, I got a lot of headaches up there). My roommate and suite-mate, who are both White, did not know that I was in my room at the time. My roommate spoke very ill of me from the way I look to just my whole existence. From that moment, my relationship changed with them, being that I thought that they were not like the other White folks. At the time, I was very close to my suite-mate so it was disappointing. On the other-hand, I wanted to believe my roommate was better than that. I knew she was always coming into our mutual space and complaining about how much she did not like a person behind their back and then act all (fake) nice to them. In her introduction to me, when we first met consisted of her saying, “I’m a nice person” and “I’m not racist”. And to me, I am more of a “show, not tell” person, so I thought that was a little odd as an introduction. In addition, on our dorm level, we had meetings every month about get-together ideas and my roommate who knew all the people on our level was spreading fake rumors about me. Being that I was the only Asian person on our level and building, hearing them whisper “It’s THAT Asian Girl…” as if I could not hear… Obviously, I knew they were talking about me. So, I completely ignored my roommate and suite-mate, being civil of course, but that hurt them. What happened next was so ironic, they blocked my way and cornered me while pushing me, blaming me for hurting them and asking why I was not talking to them. So after listening to their bullshit, I finally got my turn to talk and told them as is, that I heard them talking about me on a day I was sick (where they thought I was in class) and started a whole rumor because my roommate did not like me for being Asian. And after all that, they both just denied that they were talking about me and did not recall anything of that sort. Obviously, because they were not the one getting hurt from all their ignorance. One of their buddies came in and they did the most, they started crying in front of me after their friend came in, when in reality I wanted to cry. Why was this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this? Why was my skin color such a big issue? There were nights where I just slept in the ASNMU office because I did not want to go back to my dorm. Usually, around 5AM was when I would head back and get ready for another day of school.
While at NMU, I served on the “Associated Students of Northern Michigan University (ASNMU)” which can be translated to student government and on “Academic Senate”, where I sat with deans, faculty, and staff, as one of four students in the entire school to represent the student body — granted, it typically was only offered to seniors. I have always been a part of student government since 6th grade, so I knew I loved being a voice for students. But, the biggest difference here was that now, I was not at a school that cared about their students of color. And I knew that if I was experiencing the ignorance that was at NMU, I was positive other BIPOC students were also too. I fought hard for equity there, even if it was only for the less than 3% students of color, I was their voice. Being the only person of color who served on both ASNMU and Academic Senate, I felt it was so important I get different perspectives on what other students of color were feeling and wanted to see more at NMU. So, I started going to the Black Student Union Club (surprised we even had one) and found out that there were only FOUR students. Now, that is a big problem because it meant that the other students of color were probably in their dorms depressed and did not want to go out because they knew they would have to face ‘them’ — the ignorant White people. In many cases, that was the problem. In knowing that the White President of NMU’s “Top 7 Rules” included “Diversity & Inclusion” I made sure I challenged him. For three years, ASNMU had been trying to get NMU (the only school remaining in Michigan to not recognize “Indigenous People’s Day” as a holiday) to switch Columbus Day with “Indigenous People’s Day” had failed every year because the higher ups were worried that in having such a day, there would need to be a “German’s People Day” and others as well in order to make such a switch. Point is, I definitely made that man uncomfortable (being that I was a person of color) when I asked why his rules included “Diversity & Inclusion” when he would not even allow “Indigenous People’s Day” — granted, we had a whole major dedicated to Native American Studies at NMU and we sat on Native American land. He gave me the most dry, generic, and clear answer that he did not really care about his Native American students. So, we, ASNMU wrote to the Mining Journal Press and had our own Indigenous People’s Day celebration. (Just this year, as of July 30th, they FINALLY passed a change of holiday and celebration for “Indigenous People’s Day”.)
One night, I had a very deep conversation with my mom about transferring, not telling her anything that was going on there, mostly because I did not want her to worry, and she literally read me like a book. She could tell that I was not enjoying it there and told me to be strong, that if the school was not a right fit for me, it was okay to come back and transfer. I always thought I would graduate four years from the same institution, but I honestly could not at NMU. This was a school that treated me less than what I knew I was worth, I was not even a student in the eyes of many professors, faculty, and staff. And as strong as I had been, her words made me break down. Being told to be strong from myself every single day and others made me realize how not strong I was. It was just a way to suppress the sadness I felt. In that time, I cried the most I had ever in my entire life. From that point on, my plan was to finish at least one whole year at NMU and then transfer, so I would at least have a full year of Biology, however one special friend told me to transfer for spring semester because NMU had nothing more to offer me. And I am thankful I listened to him being that had I not transferred sooner, I do not know how or where my mental health would be. As days went going by, I could feel myself being more drained by the day. I eventually talked to my academic adviser about transferring and was only told “good luck”. I did not understand that until I had a question about how to send my transcripts to another school and in the email, she basically told me she did not know how to help me. To which, I literally had my high school counselor, who was not at all familiar with NMU’s websites or anything to help me throughout my entire transfer process.
And now, one of ‘The Most Memorable Moments” at NMU, one that I will never EVER forget. This involved the Chair of Assembly in Academic Senate, a biology professor, who knew my ethnicity right off the bat because of my last name. He was the first and only person in the entire school to know my ethnicity, so it made me very happy — only to be disappointed in the end. (And trust me, outside of MN, WI, and CA, many people do not know who the Hmong people are, we tend to cluster where our families are.) He strongly insisted that after I leave NMU, I should invite “my” Hmong people there. And was in the process of getting NMU to get more students of color there.
I looked him dead in the eyes, “If you think that I would EVER tell ‘my’ people to come to NMU to go through all the stuff I went through, hell no. The fact that you are even asking for more students of color to join this school is worse. NMU does not give a damn about their students of color they have right now, many of which are depressed in their dorms, barely even want to go to the cafeteria and eat, some are transferring — like me. I suggest you take care of your students of color here before you even think of inviting more because to me, it sounds like you do not give a damn about the students you have right now and are only eager to see diversity rates go up.” This infuriated me, as it just showed how incredibly passive NMU was for caring for their students of color, as a matter of fact, they never cared. I was the one sitting down talking to students of color and trying to open up spaces where they could debrief and not feel so alone in this institution and what was NMU doing? NOTHING. Nothing to care for their “students”.
The night before I left NMU, the same great friend I mentioned above with deep conversations, asked to hangout one last time before I left and her words have still stuck with me to this day. For me, it is easy to put a front and be strong when I have always been that person for everyone, especially for those I was caring for, but when I got to my dorm, I cried myself to sleep. I felt so guilty. Guilty that I was leaving, leaving everyone to go through NMU’s bullshit. When someone speaks so highly of you and is so inspired by you and your actions, and yet, you are leaving them because you know you cannot stay in this environment any longer, it hurts a lot. It felt like I was running away and leaving them to fight on their own, that is honestly how it felt. And whether or not I was making the right choice, I think even now, had I stayed, nothing would have majorly changed. It would take a whole village of people with the same heart, mindset, and goals to reach that. I was only one person and carrying everyone’s burden along with my own, yet I did not realize just how much that would affect me until I came back home.
The day I got accepted into Augsburg University, Spring of 2020, I cried so much. They were tears of joy this time around. I had high hopes that this new school with such high diversity rates would treat me like I knew how I should be treated. That same day I also found out that I made the Dean’s List that Fall of 2019 at NMU. Even through all of the things I went through there, I was surprised I made the Dean’s List. Many of you may or may not know that I am an aspiring doctor and I take my education very seriously. To be expected to do well in such a negative and not welcoming environment made it so much more harder than one can possibly think. I know I am a strong person, but even I have my limits. As the days went on, I honestly felt like I was losing much of myself. To be reminded on the daily that you were different was draining and honestly made me lose a lot of self-confidence and self-love that I had prior to entering NMU.
You would think that now that I was home, everything would be okay. Yet, it was the complete opposite, it was probably the most challenging time of all. I started to stop doing things I loved, like taking photos (whether it be of places, things, or even myself), to student government, to checking-in on how my friends and family were doing, to not really talking as much as I did before, and to barely eating. I was on the verge of depression and I barely even knew it because I thought someone like me, would never get to that point because I never wanted to. And I battled with accepting it for so long, to the point where I ended up pushing people away and hurting them when those were never my intentions. I have always been one to carry my struggles on my own, so the thought of sharing all my burdens with someone was just never something I could bear. I was never fully healed from the trauma I experienced at NMU. In fact, coming back home and being expected to give hugs as a welcome back home was often too much for me. I just did not want to be touched. I barely touched on what happened to me in NMU because I hated talking about it, let alone thinking about it. “Hate” — is a strong word.
Soon, COVID-19 hit America and at the time I was still a cashier. When I say ‘xenophobia’ is real, it is SO real. It is honestly sad that people still assume all Asians look alike AND act like they have never seen Asians in America before who are literally Asian-American citizens. For weeks, I was getting customers who would just ignore me whenever I asked a question like “paper or plastic” to bag their groceries in or even walking past my register to go to my white co-workers. And mind I mention, I was the only Asian person in the front and whenever my co-workers came to ask the same questions I had to ask multiple times, the customer(s) would then respond. I handled everything well not letting it get to me until April 5th, 2020. I saw that all my co-workers had very long lines of customers when I had none, so I asked if customers would want to come in my lane and the response I got from this White lady was, “It’s okay, I don’t want people like you touching my stuff”. I was shocked, I could not believe what I was hearing and it felt like everything froze in that moment. It just felt so off for me. I remember questioning myself what just happened and fighting hard to hold back tears that were on the verge streaming down my face. It triggered something inside of me and brought me immediately back to how badly I wanted to escape the White ignorance from NMU to be back home, where it was supposed to be progressive and “diverse”. I remember it like it was yesterday, I was so traumatized at that moment, I just kept crying because it was closer to home than ever and gave me so many bad flashbacks. And then…
It hit me, I just let it manifest in me. For so long, I had been doing so well on being strong whether it be for me or for others. I was scared to show people my weak side and share my struggles because I never want someone to worry about me. I thought I was going to get through this sadness that I had suppressed inside of me, but I was already at my lowest and lost grasp in the process. For three months, I would just get up to do homework, eat one meal, and sleep. And sleep. And sleep. I would often look up at the ceiling and just stare, and stare, and stare. Most days, I had tears just streaming down my face nonstop and major headaches. I lost 20 pounds within weeks. I stopped communicating with everyone, my family and friends, even my immediate family who were in the same house as me. I constantly thought of what a horrible person I was to have left everyone back at NMU. It hit me so hard because it made me question everything I did in my life and whether or not I was a good person. I felt like I did not even know who I was anymore, in fact, worthy of anything. I felt so lifeless in that moment. Depression is real. And even when I had it, I never considered it depression until recently because again, I never wanted to have it. And being someone who appreciates life and all the beautiful aspects with it, I never thought I would get to that point. With depression, you do not get to choose whether or not you have it, it can just happen. There were very clear signs for me (personally) to have known that, but I suppressed my emotions because I did not want to accept what NMU had done to me. I think I did a good job in hiding it from everyone I knew because again, I never want people to worry about me. Even the happiest and strongest person you know is fighting their own struggles, so never forget to check up on your loved ones. You never know what they might be going through and sometimes, they just need someone to listen and really listen.
I remember waking up one day and just being so tired of everything, of the way I was feeling and thinking. I was tired of being alone. And asking myself why I was the only one being blamed for everything when in reality, it really was not my fault for the way things had turned out. NMU did not care about people like me and although I was that person that many BIPOC folks turned to, I realized, I never truly had anyone to turn to — because I was afraid others would see me as weak and did not want to burden others. I did not want people to think I was just complaining about things that I was experiencing, so I kept it all to myself. With every ounce I had left of me that wanted to live, I forced myself to get out and play tennis. I would go hit with a wall for hours upon hours. And gradually, found comfort in being outside for the first time in a long time. It was not long until I started to reach out to my few remaining friends I had to hangout. I have since cut out a lot of people in my life and prefer those who are real and are supportive of what I am pursuing in life. They may never know just how much our hangouts meant to me because I was forcing myself to get out. But, to those whom I saw, I appreciate you all. And last but not least, my family has been my biggest support group I have had since. Without them, I do not know where I would be (I love you all, so much!). This summer has been probably one of the best summers in my entire life because of them. My family and education will always be my number one priority because they have always been what keeps me going.
And when I think back to my whole year of being 19 in retrospect, had I not gone through those experiences, I would not be the person I am right now. It was an incredibly hard year for me and had many down moments, but the last few months before turning 20 definitely outshines those sad moments — moments I never thought could happen. Since then, I have quit being a part of things that really did not mean anything in my life and started pursuing things that I am passionate about and care deeply for. Shout out to my “Tennis Family”, you all have really made such a huge impact on my life and made me realize I would much rather be in a place that I love and enjoy from the bottom of my heart — no matter where I am. In knowing that much of myself, I can confidently say I am so much happier with where I am at in life. Being surrounded by all the loving and supportive people I have in my life is truly the greatest blessing. And I am proud to say I have finally gained more strength in myself since, especially being surrounded by such a positive atmosphere that values my presence, work, and always encourages me that “I can do it”.
Throughout this entire journey, I realized how proud I am to be Hmong-American. In this whole process, it was always the world against BIPOC because we were “different”. Instead of feeling like I was not good enough because I am Asian, I have learned to embrace my identity because it is a part of who I am. Not what I am, but ‘who’ I am. And in doing that, I know that once I become a physician, there will be folks who look like me. I believe representation is so crucial in this time and age. We can be the change that we wish to see. Why must we wait for it to happen? We are just as capable of anything we envision ourselves to be. To add on, I have realized that it is best to be your most authentic self in every space you enter. You do not have to be any stronger than you are. It is okay if you cannot handle it and accepting that fact, can make all the difference. Let yourself feel what you have to feel in order to let it go. And to my BIPOC Family, you all know damn well you deserve all the love and respect you give in return. Never settle for less. Life’s lowest moments are not supposed to phase you, but rather lift you higher than you were before.
It is so incredibly important that our BIPOC students feel love, care, and comfort to thrive in such a world that seems to hate and ignore them so much. It is SO crucial that students of color choose schools that are diverse in demographics AND include ‘diversity’ in their mission statement (and are actively acting on it). Our choices, as BIPOC are limited because we cannot just choose any school we want. Why? There are so many places that do not welcome people like us, than there are that do. And that is the sad truth. Reality is, we do not just get to pick and choose any school we want like White folks because we have more things to consider. — Racism is still alive and well out here.
YOU ARE WORTHY OF LOVE. Be proud of who you are and NEVER settle for less.
