Diversity” was the “in” buzzword at the California Democratic Party, with insiders from S.F. Mayor Willie Brown to first-lady aspirant Tipper Gore hailing the party’s inclusionary spirit. Yet when it comes to Asian Americans, the party still falls short of parity. Though we make up close to 10 percent of California’s population, we have 2 percent of its Assembly seats and none in the Senate. And while six times as many Asian Americans showed up at the Democratic confab than the Republican one, that still meant that among 1,900 delegates, less than 4 percent were Asian American.

The responsibility for that under-representation lies not only with the Democratic Party but with us. As one APA delegate said, “So many Asians say, ‘I don’t have an interest in politics.’ ”
Granted, in many Asian countries, keeping one’s distance from political affairs could well be a life-saving strategy. And many Americans, not just Asian Americans, feel increasingly disheartened by a political process that seems governed by glad-handing and envelope-giving, a process that seemingly has little to offer the everyday Joe or Joo.

Consider, though, that it was through politics that America revised its immigration policies more than 30 years ago, thus allowing most of today’s Asian Americans to immigrate; that it was politicians who put in place laws against discrimination and are now seeking to beef up hate crimes statutes. Politicians are the ones who ultimately decide how much in taxes we pay and to whom—and on an even broader scale, they are the ones who set the very parameters by which we live and work.

Given that magnitude of power on the one hand versus dislike of schmoozing on the other, the choice should be clear. We must get involved—through volunteering in campaigns, through nominating ourselves for appointments and at the very least, through voting.

“It’s one step at a time, you have to get groups motivated to action, take part in government,” observes Pacifica delegate May Gee. “A lot of people complain but don’t vote. So many close races in elections mean that people are now realizing that their vote matters.”

If we want political parity—within the two major parties or within our lawmaking bodies, we must stand up for it. That doesn’t mean an automatic vote for anyone with an Asian face—what it does mean is due consideration of what is behind that face. By doing so, we will show Democrats—and Republicans—that “Asian Americans are an important political force to be dealt with,” as caucus chair Ben Wong puts it. “Until we do that, we will be lamenting our lack of representation.”

An Important Message
Though the email-carried virus that was delivered to countless Internet users worldwide this week did no great damage, it serves as a warning of how quickly anything can spread on the Web.

The Melissa virus, discovered less than a week ago, sends an email titled “important message from” in the header. When opened up, it invites the user to look at a Microsoft Word file called “list.doc,” saying tantalizingly: “Don’t let anyone else see!” Meanwhile, the virus in the attachment goes through a user’s address book to send 50 more copies of the message, each with a real person’s name in the header.

Who did this? A lot of people, including FBI agents, would like to know. And while some may see Melissa as a harmless prank, fostered by a fun-loving, War-Games-style prodige who one day will run Microsoft, actual virus creators are more likely to resemble Theodore Kaczynski than Matthew Broddrick.

To create a virus requires using extensive technical knowledge for the express goal of making millions of people miserable. It is also illegal under federal law. Yet the public outcry for catching virus creators is far more muted than if they had burned down, say, a school or office building, even though cyber-viruses are potentially destructive to millions more all over the world.

Though it may be harder to trace criminals through cyberspace, it is not impossible—as the case of hacker Kevin Mitnick bears out. Caught in 1995, he is still behind bars awaiting sentencing. Even if he doesn’t get the 200 years that a prosecutor once predicted, his case should send a message that cyber-terrorism will not be tolerated.