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Racial Injustice Reflection by Jean Sunwoo & Amanda Trejo
Racial Justice Reflection
By: Jean Sunwoo, MSW and Amanda Trejo, MOT, OTR/L
In solidarity with the AAPI community, the following reflection was from a recent event at Providence St. Jude Medical Center in Fullerton, CA led by Jean Sunwoo and Amanda Trejo, both frontline healthcare workers. Together with our Racial Justice Alliance, we lit candles in honor of the Atlanta shooting victims, along with all victims of hate crimes and racism. We declared hope, light, and prayers in opposition to the darkness and division we collectively experience. In the wake of the shootings, I (Jean) wrote this to our Racial Justice Alliance a few weeks ago.
The past few days, I have not slept or eaten properly. I feel sick to my stomach and tears come and go. Everything feels very raw and a pervading feeling of vulnerability sits within me. This feeling is not uncommon with many Asian women across the U.S. right now, and it will be for some time.
The recent Georgia shootings rocked and shattered the worlds of the Asian community, as we grappled and reeled with grief, anger, and fear to step outside of our doors. Further, it was a re-traumatization of our own personal experiences that involved layers of hurt. The lack of recognition as a hate crime, targeting the vulnerable female elders, and deafening silence from those we hope would reach out was too much to bear.
What I'm writing is in no way to diminish the experiences of our sisters and brothers of any community which involve harassment, trauma, or death. More importantly, this is not to discount your individual silent pain; your story counts. When one person suffers, we all suffer with you.
Initially, I wanted to disengage emotionally, as we are taught to do in our culture. When a friend from another cultural back-
ground reached out to me and asked how I'm doing, I was reminded of my value and how much our community matters. Her words of truth and compassion allowed me to properly grieve and process my personal and collective pain.
To be seen, validated, and cared for was a pivotal moment I will never forget. For those directly affected by the recent events, you also may feel the hate and attacks are not a surprise. Anti-Asian racism existed for generations and significantly increased since the onset of the pandemic, from seemingly harmless words to hate crimes. Unfortunately, this happens even within the walls of our own hospital. The COVID-19 pandemic alone caused deep trauma and despair. To add insult to injury, the AAPI caregivers now experience another level of pain as we are targeted by xenophobia and hatred.
Together, we declare this needs to change. When one part of our organization hurts, the entire organization grieves together. It requires the support of each of us, to carry and bear one another’s burdens. Today we lament this compounding grief so many of us are still recovering from. We take ownership of our words and recognize the harm it may perpetuate. We boldly call out racism and systems of oppression which impact our own caregivers, patients, and communities. We love our neighbors by listening, learning, and condemning injustice. We choose, instead, to use our words to express kindness, compassion, truth, and unity. May we continually seek peace, justice, reconciliation, and healing together.
The day after the shootings, I (Amanda) wrote this poem in the rawness of my grief and lament, as an Asian American woman and healthcare worker on the frontlines.
“My eyes are swollen And my heart is heavy. I think of every Asian woman I love And I pray over and over Lord, protect them. Lord, protect us.
