Men and Islands

 John Donne proclaimed “No Man Is an Island” in an uplifting saying that we so often stole without attribution. With Covid, and work from home, and bubbles, and the political climate that we are in now, I am not so sure. 

The truth is, it feels increasingly like an island lately. I work from home 7 to 4 most days. I go for 2 walks, mostly with my brother, in relative silence. I exercise by myself. I haven’t read the news or Facebook in days. Linked In is my source of updates and social contact (I know, I’m becoming a boomer). 

My partner is back at work (physical, in-office) for an organization that I, well, let’s just say severely disapprove of. I am proud of him and all the great work that he is doing. I want to be the supportive cool hubby. I do. But it’s straining and it’s exhausting and it’s lonely when he wants me to approve his organization’s work, too. I know it’s straining and it’s exhausting and it’s lonely for him that I don’t love the work that his organization is doing. So as best as I could, I don’t talk about it. I don’t read about his organization anymore. It can get lonely.

My friend from the US (that I made in California, he’s back in Chicago now) reached out after the shooting on Wednesday to check in on me. I didn’t know what happened (again, haven’t read the news in weeks). I was with him during the George Floyd period last year. From my short time in America, racism and misogyny against women were very real to me. Especially for Asian and Asian Americans, it is that much darker because it was silent. Men fetishizing Asian women. The media demasculinize Asian men. We are seen as the silent model minority, as laundromat workers, tax accountants, software nerds, among other stereotypes. 

If anything, the events in the past years have created a silver lining – the Black community and the Asian community coming together. As Eddie Huang’s book once recalled, his black friend and he fought in a monumental moment in their childhood, when the black boy slashed out at the Asian for being good, quiet, and over-achieving. We, as Asian immigrants, are taught by North American culture that our indigenous and black brothers and sisters are brass, rude, and lazy. That is changing (at least from what I’ve seen). In the troubled fabric of North American society, woven by immigration, colonization, and slavery, the colors of our humanity are blending with the blood of our ancestors. It’s not perfect, but it’s vibrant in the sun.

From the movie – Minari