Sheer confidence decides the outcome of most human encounters. As long as we are creatures of flesh and blood, our self-confidence will be rooted in our physical abilities. The knowledge that you run the marathon in three-fifty or bench press two-fifty-five or beat opponents to the punch gives you a level of confidence that translates directly into automatic respect from even hardened bigots and racists. More respect means fewer bad encounters to distract you from more important concerns. It's been my experience that, in fact, getting in shape is already one of the high-EQ traits of many Asian Americans.
5. I will draw lines in the sand at my convenience.
Those with strong self-images often see ourselves as representatives for all Asian Americans. This sense of duty makes us sacrifice our own personal comfort and convenience to stand up for racial dignity and equality. This is a noble impulse. The EQ issue here is whether it's wise to go ballistic at every suspected racial offense.
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A high-EQ individual recognizes the strategic disadvantage of giving others the power to disrupt one's life at the time and place of their choosing. We can't dictate the timing of racial offenses but we can decide when drawing a line in the sand is a good use of the limited time and energy we can devote to confrontations with bigots. Giving yourself the power to make that decision will increase your emotion control and make you a more effective advocate for Asian American dignity and equality.
In making the decision to turn an offense into a full-blown racial encounter, consider how sure you are that a racial offense was intended, whether you enjoy a high probability of a positive outcome, and whether you are willing to risk spoiling that particular occasion by focusing everyone's attention on an unpleasant aspect of life. Remember that there will always be plenty of racial offenses that merit your moral indignation, but the occasion may never come again.
I remember a Sunday afternoon about ten years ago. I took my grandparents out for dinner at a pricey restaurant. I wanted the occasion to be memorable. As the meal progressed I became increasingly angry. Not only did our waiter treat us with what appeared to be disdainful aloofness, he didn't bring our dinners until the plates were lukewarm. By dessert I was boiling over at what I took to be racially bigoted service. Despite my grandparents' protests, I stormed off to find the manager and raised hell. The manager tried to smooth things over but the the mood had been spoiled for my grandparents and for me.
I can't say that I would have been happier had I swallowed by indignation, but I suspect that my grandparents would have enjoyed the dinner more. That turned out to be the last time I saw my grandfather as he passed away a few months later.
6. I will give my kids the benefit of my experience in handling bigotry.
The toughest dilemma for Asian Americans is knowing when to shelter loved ones from racial offenses. Several years ago my approach was to insulate my wife and kids from anything that might dampen their mood. On countless occasions I had seethed with anger at offensive remarks that only I had heard while trying to feign interest in the conversation. I felt handcuffed by my reluctance to expose my family to racism and bigotry.
I changed my approach after my wife told me that our son, then a third-grader, had received detention for kicking a classmate who had pulled out the corners of his eyes at him. That was when I was forced to accept the truth I had been avoiding: my kids were going to suffer racial offenses no matter how much I tried to shield them. I decided that it was wiser to give them the benefit of my own hard-earned experience in coping with racial offenses than to continue my charade.
While I can't say I came to look forward to racial offenses, I began seeing them as opportunities to teach my kids. I showed them to use humor and wordplay to counter offensive words and behavior. If we heard a pointed “It's nippy out,&rduqo; I taught them to say, “Don't get the hiccups,” with extra emphasis on the “hic”. If we heard people using slurs like “jap” or “chink” or “gook”, I taught them to say, “I keep hearing hicks and rednecks,” or “Oooh, can you just smell the ignorance and hate?” If we were mistreated at a store or restaurant, I taught them how to show ire, leave small tips, complain to the manager or even write letters to corporate headquarters, as the situation merited.
Gone were the days when I would seethe alone. Now we join in making life unpleasant for racial offenders. This approach has given my kids more, not less, confidence, and brought us closer together.
7. I will appreciate the advantages of being an Asian American.
The many challenges of being an Asian American can sometimes make us ask, “Why couldn't I just have been white or born in an Asian nation?” The truth is that every burden carries the potential for a corresponding advantage. Being an Asian American may hinder relations with some people, but it enhances our connection with twelve million other Asian Americans. This is one advantage that white Americans don't enjoy. Members of a majority don't share an automatic camaraderie. Instead they create divisions among themselves by focusing on subtle socioeconomic or cultural distinctions.
The instant connection we Asian Americans enjoy is a valuable advantage that often translates into friendships and career opportunities. By recognizing and using this and other blessings of being an Asian American, you will feel empowered rather than burdened by your identity.
