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May 30 - June 4, 1997
A beating at Denny's, a front-lawn shooting, and a dirty little secret
by Emil Guillermo
Three recent news stories appear to be hate crimes. In two of them, I'm ready to pounce for justice. But the third makes me question our right to complain at all.
The first story is in New York, where the Justice Department has finally begun its investigation into the beating of six Asian American and three Japanese students outside of a Syracuse Denny's restaurant in the early morning last month.
This apparently was not meant to be a standard part of Denny's much advertised "Grand Slam" breakfast.
In fact, the students from Syracuse University didn't even get to experience any food at all. Upon their arrival at the restaurant, they were told they had to place their names on a waiting list. That's pretty standard. And so what if there were empty tables. Maybe the restaurant had just a few servers working that hour. But then the students noticed that groups of white males were being seated immediately.
Hmm. The sign didn't read "No shoes, No socks, No Asians."
The students complained, but to no avail. Hey, it's a Denny's, not moot court. They were asked to leave, and found themselves escorted out by security guards as if they were part of some "Bring Back Sambo's" conspiracy.
That's when the trouble began. According to the students' lawyers, one of the guards pushed the students, and then a "gang of about 20" white males came out shouting epithets and attacking. What were these hooligans thinking? That, indeed, the food was worth the wait? Or that there was a problem with the mere presence of foreign-looking people in, of all places, Syracuse. What stereotype fueled their rage? Because when it was over, the students' complaint filed with the Syracuse DA's office claims that two of the Asian American students were beaten unconscious.
In the complaint, one of those students, Derrick Lizardo, a Filipino American student, said: "I was never made to feel so helpless and so different in my entire life."
Two black patrons, who had also been waiting, were the only ones to come to the aid of the Asian students. Where were the security guards? The Denny's guards, off-duty sheriff's deputies, did not intervene, calling instead for police backup. By the time the police arrived, the fight was over and the attackers had left the scene.
Maybe the students should have just assumed a karate pose? Which brings us to story No. 2.
As an Asian American of Filipino descent, I know how this pose can strike fear into the hearts of thugs and bullies. I remember walking through tough neighborhoods in the '70s with my lone protection: I looked like I knew karate.
Of course I didn't. Neither did 33-year-old Kuanchung Kao, an immigrant from Taipei, an engineer and father of three. Early in the morning, Kao stood alone, outside his home in Rohnert Park, Calif. According to reports, he had gotten into an argument in a bar earlier that night. Someone mistook him for a Japanese guy. Kao is Chinese. Then his nemesis delivered the clincher, "Well, you all look the same."
Reports indicate that Kao suddenly snapped. He had had it. When he got home, Kao was drunk. He got a stick and was doing a kind of "air warrior" thing. But he was noisy to boot, so much so that the neighbors were a bit concerned. They were trying to sleep. They called 911.
The rest is predictable. A veteran officer shows up, sees an Asian man with a stick who looks like he knows karate. Thought processes go off. Decision: Better shoot him. That's police training for you.
Forget that Kao wasn't holding anyone hostage. Nor was he a menace to anyone in particular. But the officer said he felt "threatened." After all, Kao had a stick. The officer, a gun--and a stereotypical view.
At this point, I'd be expected to go off into a rage about the stupidity of these acts perpetrated on Asians, egging on the activists who are fighting on behalf of the aggrieved.
But not so fast.
As I contemplated the two stories from both coasts, I heard the third story that stopped me dead in my tracks.
It involves a 16-year-old Oakland boy who's recovering from a shotgun blast to his back and thighs. Anthony Stamps is his name. And the suspect is described as an Asian male.
Stamps and some friends were playing with water toys and garden hoses one hot Sunday afternoon. Witnesses say a motorist became angered when some water splattered his car. Now I know water is instant death to, say, the witch in The Wizard of Oz. A little water on the car hardly seems to make for a shooting offense.
But tell that to the motorist. He stopped and swore at the boys. Then Stamps says the man came back with a 12- or 20-gauge shotgun. When they saw it, the boys ran. But not before 30 pieces of buckshot hit the 16-year-old, knocking him to the ground and shattering the window of a car.
Could it be that the Asian male suspect, still at large, was so anal that a little water would set him off? Or was it that proverbial last straw, this act by a black child, seen as indolent, disrespectful, and perhaps not even having a life worth living. What reaction would the man have had for an Asian with an errant squirt gun? A white kid in a ritzier area of Oakland?
The story exposes a fundamental problem for Asian Americans: Our community is primarily immigrant, from Asian societies that revel in their homogeneity, not to mention their penchant for racism and a lack of tolerance. More often than not, these same views are instilled in their American-born children.
It's the community's dirty little secret. Consider that many recent Asian immigrants don't even know who Martin Luther King Jr. was. They just know he didn't speak an Asian language.
As a community, Asian Americans need to make a better effort to bridge these gaps. The fight to end anti-Asian violence rings hollow--unless we begin to curb or eliminate the racism many of us instinctively feel toward others.
Emil Guillermo is a former host of NPR's All Things Considered and a regular contributor to AsianWeek. E-mail him at emil@amok.com.