Reflection

Exploring the Sacred Silence

Abstract

Despite the egregious examples, some people still ignore or outright deny the racism directed toward the AAPI community, leading a fellow Jesuit to breathe a sigh of relief when finally feeling listened to. Sometimes, blending in means being the “model minority,” a term that is both rooted in disparaging Blacks in their civil protest and used to pit people of color against one another. Politicians have imposed the myth of the model minority on AAPI folk to believe if they worked hard enough, they would be accepted. It is a far cry from God’s unconditional love of who we are and discerning who God dreams us to be, two fruits normally experienced for those making St. Ignatius’ Spiritual Exercises.

I fear bringing up this issue, and I can’t blame myself for being scared. I have experienced racism and the consequences—from non-action to vengeful outrage—when people of color like myself speak out.

Earlier this year, many AAPI (Asian American and Pacific Islander) Jesuits had noticed the relative silence in our Jesuit communities regarding rising reports of hate crimes directed toward AAPI people. Sometimes— from ignorance to fear of not knowing exactly what to say—many fellow Jesuits said or did nothing. “The silence was deafening,” said one of my friends when describing what it was like to speak and not feel heard by your closest Jesuit brothers. As I prayed with Jesus, the very person for whom our Society is named, I saw the multitude of us comforted and encouraged by him to speak the truth.

An Open Ear

In March, toward the end of my annual conversation with our then- provincial, Father Scott Santarosa, SJ, I asked, “Scott, may I bring up something?”

With his nod, I laid my heart bare: “I don’t know if you know, but all this racism towards AAPIs, over the entirety of the last year since the pandemic began, it has been ... overwhelming.” I paused, trying to find the words.

“I feel sad, hopeless ...”

I trailed off, damming up the flood of tears as I told the accounts of people who looked like my father, mother, brother, sister, aunt and uncle being cursed at, spit upon, coughed on, shoved, stabbed, slashed, shot and murdered. It had been all too much for me, for my friends and my family to bear.

Scott listened intently and later reached out with a plan. How about if we hold a listening session and invite every Jesuit of the province to attend? That decision opened the floodgates, and on Good Friday, 30 Jesuits including 15 of AAPI descent, convened to hear the firsthand accounts of harassment, intimidation and racism being experienced by members of our community.

For Ourselves and Our Families

The pandemic brought something that was previously hidden in plain sight to the forefront. Although the culmination of anti-AAPI hate occurred in March when Robert Aaron Long gunned down six women of AAPI descent in Atlanta, there are countless cases of AAPI folk, particularly the elderly, being attacked.

In our listening session, one AAPI Jesuit recounted, “My family has had racist threats left at their home. When my parents showed the police a recording of a stranger leaving a threatening message outside their house, the police didn’t do anything.”

Another recalled the fear of being the target of a vicious attack: “The other day a person—without provocation—started yelling racial slurs while approaching me from across the street. I had to duck into a corner store to hide.”

Scott listened intently and later reached out with a plan. How about if we hold a listening session and invite every Jesuit of the province to attend? That decision opened the floodgates, and on Good Friday, 30 Jesuits including 15 of AAPI descent, convened to hear the firsthand accounts of harassment, intimidation and racism being experienced by members of our community.

Our Collective Trauma

Despite these egregious examples, some people still ignore or outright deny the racism directed toward the AAPI community, leading a fellow Jesuit to breathe a sigh of relief when finally feeling listened to. This same AAPI Jesuit talked about recent conversations with white people who had not seen the ways in which racism—unconscious, systemic and unrecognized—was directed toward the AAPI community. He said, “Based on my experiences with racism, I’ve learned to keep my head down and not to complain too loudly. White people don’t want to hear how I’m disadvantaged because of their discrimination. They want to hear how grateful I am for having been given the opportunities here in America. They are impressed with how well I’ve learned to speak their language and happy that I’ve been able to raise myself up by my own bootstraps. To most white folks, I will always be a foreigner residing as a guest in their country.”

Feeling the need to prove that we are every bit as American as anyone else is a sentiment shared by many AAPI I know. And no wonder we feel so insecure. Chinese immigrants have been abused from the moment they arrived in America in the mid-19th century. And while lynching is a term most often associated with violence perpetrated against African Americans, in 1871 one of the largest mass lynchings in American history targeted Chinese immigrants. When a frenzied mob attacked the Chinese quarter in Los Angeles, 19 innocent people were slaughtered. A century later, when the U.S. was at war with Germany, Italy and Japan, only Japanese Americans were forced from their homes and imprisoned in barbed-wire internment camps. The impact of this collective and historical trauma has been devastating.

“Growing up, I hated who I was. I was mistreated for being different. I just wanted to be accepted. So, I did everything I could to blend in,” one AAPI Jesuit lamented.

Sometimes, this blending in means being the “model minority,” a term that is both rooted in disparaging Blacks in their civil protest and used to pit people of color against one another. Politicians have imposed the myth of the model minority on AAPI folk to believe if they worked hard enough, they would be accepted. It is a far cry from God’s unconditional love of who we are and discerning who God dreams us to be, two fruits normally experienced for those making St. Ignatius’ Spiritual Exercises.

“I am beginning to know more who I am and recognize all the times that people told me who I was because I was Asian. People had told me I was supposed to be quiet or good at numbers, so that’s what I believed,” another Jesuit recounted.

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Even Among Our Own

Not all of us can blend in, even in our own Jesuit communities.

“Jesuit guests at our Jesuit communities have mistaken me for the kitchen staff,” an AAPI Jesuit priest remarked. Another recalled, “Newly arrived at a Jesuit university community to begin a teaching assignment during formation, I encountered a few visiting Jesuits who could not believe that I was an academic. I had to assure them that I was actually teaching there.”

“While I was visiting a Jesuit community and waiting to be admitted, another Jesuit called the police on me. The police came and handcuffed me to the curb. I feared for my life. A lot of Jesuits think that racism occurs with other races, in other provinces, in another time, but it happens right here, right now, in our own province, with our own Jesuits.”

More by Deeds than by Words

In May, we convened a second listening session, and twice as many Jesuits participated. After listening to the personal accounts shared by myself and my AAPI brothers, there remained in those sessions a different kind of silence, a sacred one, which revealed the goodness of both the AAPI Jesuits and our brothers who came with open hearts seeking to understand. Throughout my time in formation, I have been consoled by non-AAPI Jesuit allies who have welcomed me, understood the situations I have gone through and have made changes for the better. Although separated by distance and using Zoom to connect, I felt that support palpably.

Things can be different. The question is: What we will do in response? Will we do more than just listen? Will we honor these stories by making meaningful change? Will we advocate for those in the AAPI community to make our churches, schools and our own Society of Jesus places of welcome, safety and empowerment?

At the conclusion of the Spiritual Exercises, retreatants are propelled to respond lovingly to the love they have received from Jesus. In the final Contemplation, Ignatius writes, “Love ought to manifest itself more by deeds than by words.” How will our deeds speak so much that they honor the sacred silence?

(This article has previously been published in the Jesuits West Magazine, Fall/Winter 2021)

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The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in the article belong solely to the author(s). They do not purport to reflect the opinion or views of the Secretariat.

Posted by SJES ROME - Communications Coordinator in GENERAL CURIA
SJES ROME
The Communication Coordinator helps the SJE Secretariat to publish the news and views of the social justice and ecology mission of the Society of Jesus.