"Well-timed silence hath more eloquence than speech," the 19th century writer Martin Farquhar Tupper once said. His words ring true a century later. If a minority group is being treated more or less fairly, speech that alleges large-scale discrimination will only make race relations worse.
Unfortunately, the leaders of the Asian-American community at Harvard fail to appreciate Tupper's wisdom. Consequently, the Asian community here suffers from a terrible disease: renewed minority student activism.
Young crusaders rail against those Asian-Americans who don't share their belief in saber-rattling as the way to realize progress. They use the label "apathetic" as their epithet of choice: "If you don't agree with us, you're just apathetic and unconcerned."
If Asians as a group are quietly and stubbornly making headway, what's so wrong with being "apathetic," especially if it allows us to keep our forebears' hard-won gains? If being quiet wins us support from students and administrators who are sick and tired of being called "insensitive to minority concerns," then maybe the old adage is true: silence is golden.
Increasing racial tensions isn't the only problem with aggressive Asian activism. It also imposes a false unity on the Asian community and a non-existent coherence on the Asian experience. What Asian-American activists fail to realize is that our community lacks the wealth of unifying experiences and coherent group narratives possessed by the other minority groups to which we like to compare ourselves.
If we continue to stress our identity as Asian-Americans as the activists would like us to do, we encourage the outside (white) world to think of us as Asians first and Americans second. If we want to make it clear that Americans can be of any race or ethnicity, if we want to disprove the tired equation "American=white," we must continue to assimilate into the mainstream as we have successfully done up until now.
This argument does not mean that Asians should shun their cultural backgrounds. Indeed, we can use our ethnicities to our benefit. Being ethnic makes us "interesting." It's easy to confuse a "colorful individual" with an "individual of color."
Call me a cynic. But if our backgrounds can make us look unique and "ethnic" to elite professional schools or high-powered recruiters looking to build diverse groups or assuage white guilt, we should milk them for all they're worth. As a Filipino-American, if I have to dance the tinikling or scarf down lechon to advance my career, I'll do it gladly.
Some might call this strategy exploitative of ethnicity in an evil, careerist way. But is it any less exploitative of identity and guilt than radical minority politics? Certainly it doesn't necessarily conflict with a sincere dedication to advancing minority interests. If you can empower your community and yourself at the same time, more power to you.
The outdated model of strident minority activism may have worked in the '60s for Blacks and other groups, but it won't work today for Asian-Americans. The separatist paradigm, by stressing difference and discrimination, simply alienates our mainstream (white) allies and creates division within our ranks.
It's time for us to move on in our methods of fighting lingering racism. Communal action and cheap, crass identity politics have nothing left to offer us. Totaling activism destroys the rich diversity of opinion within the Asian community. Individual achievement and the creation of strong role models are the true keys to Asian-American empowerment.
David E. Lat's column appears on alternate Tuesdays.
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