THE JOURNEY TO SOLIDARITY

When American Citizens for Justice (ACJ) was established on March 30, 1983, to fight the travesty of justice that freed Vincent Chin’s brutal killers, it was clear to all that one of the first tasks would be to promote the call to action beyond the Asian American community. On the night of its founding, the assembled body elected journalist Helen Zia to be board secretary—and to develop a media strategy as the group’s press secretary. It was blatantly apparent that most Americans knew little to nothing about Asian Americans, thus the urgent mission: educate the media quickly, in clear sound bites, about the existence and humanity of Asian Americans as part of this democracy, and help them unlearn what they thought they knew about “Orientals”—a term applied to rugs and food, not humans. ACJ called its first news conference at the Detroit Press Club two weeks later. In those days before fax machines—and long before email and social media— each press release was written on a typewriter; with headlines in larger typefaces, hand-applied one letter at a time with stick-on letters, the final version was then photo copied. These would be hand-delivered to each news outlet, usually by a retired Chinese American couple, Ray and Mable Lim, one waiting in the car if they could not find parking, while the other dropped off the releases to different news desks. On the morning of April 15, 1983, the entire spectrum of local media appeared—Asian Americans were so invisible in the Midwest that it was exotic news to see such communities coming together to protest injustice. The initial questions were quite elementary: Who are you people? Where are you from? Are you all new arrivals to America, fresh off the boat? Do you speak English?

Asian Americans Carve Out a Place Beyond Black and White

In the largely African American city of Detroit, ACJ knew it had to reach out to the Black community. Attorney Liza Chan and Helen Zia appeared on a popular Black radio station’s talk show that drew frank comments from listeners. Some were pleased to see that Asian Americans would reach out to their community to talk about this injustice. Others asked if Asians were just trying to “ride the coattails” of African Americans. Still others charged Asian people with prejudice towards Black people. The ACJ representatives tried to answer questions openly, acknowledging that some but not all Asian Americans had anti-Black prejudice, and that ACJ was formed to address racial injustice against any group, including racist attitudes by Asians. The talk shows also offered an opportunity to discuss the

contributions of Asian Americans to the civil rights struggles. The listeners’ comments underscored the need initiate such discussions with more recent Asian immigrants who knew little about the Black movement for civil rights or how it benefited Asian Americans. In seeking alliances with other communities, ACJ entered the national dialogue on race in America, respecting the central role of Black people in the fight for civil rights, and committing to educate other Asian Americans about civil rights. Even more, ACJ acknowledged the need for Asian Americans to support Black communities in their continued struggle for equality and civil rights. African American organizations such as the Detroit-Area Black Organizations (DABO), were quick to endorse the Asian American communities’ call for justice. DABO’s founder and president, Horace Sheffield, became strong advocate for ACJ, and Asian Americans reciprocated. The Detroit chapter of the NAACP, the largest chapter in the country, issued the following resolution:

Be it resolved that the Detroit Branch of the

NAACP deplores the probationary sentence pronounced by Judge Charles Kaufman for the killers of Vincent Chin and support all efforts to have said sentence rescinded and a new sentence rendered mandating appropriate incarceration. Critical support streamed in from diverse constituencies: several prominent African American churches; the Anti-Defamation League of B’Nai B’rith; the Detroit Roundtable of Christians and Jews; Arab Americans of Michigan, who comprised the largest population of Arab people outside of the Middle East; Latinx communities; the West Indian Association; Italian Americans; women’s groups from the Detroit Women’s Forum to Black Women for a Better Society; all stood with ACJ. Local political leaders, from the president of the Detroit City Council to US Representative John Conyers joined the rallying cry.

Naysayers, Doubters and Deniers

But some of ACJ’s outreach resulted in reactive fear and resentment. When ACJ invited white, European American communities for support, some were openly hostile or resistant to “yet another minority group” stepping forward about racism. Even when no words were said, there was the insinuation that Asian Americans did not experience discrimination or “real” racism—according to those who knew nothing about Asian American lives or history. According to them, Asian Americans had no legitimate place in discussions of racism. Such reactions offered an insight into the ambivalence towards Asian Americans even today, when Asian communities and issues struggle to break out of invisibility and into the dominant public discourse. Though leaders and spokespeople of ACJ were stepping forward into the public discourse on race, within the Asian American communities many were unsure about speaking out: they had been treated as invisible for so long. It was hard for them to imagine framing Asians in the dialogue on race and asserting a righteous position when race in America had historically been constructed only as Black and white. More recent immigrants and refugees, and elder community members were particularly hesitant to discuss race and racism in connection to Vincent Chin’s killers. They wanted to wait for a clear connection to racism before they felt they could bring up the “R” word—“racism.”

Facts Matter

It fell on ACJ’s attorney Liza Chan to organize the detective work to reconstruct the events leading to Vincent’s fatal attack because the police refused to interview anyone at the bar or other key witnesses. It didn’t take long to make the connection to anti-Asian racism: a dancer, Racine Colwell, was an eyewitness and she readily recounted that, at the bar, she heard Ebens tell Chin, “It’s because of you motherf---ers that we’re out of work.” Liza uncovered more facts and accounts, such as the local man whom the killers paid to help them “find the Chinese” as they drove through the streets to inflict vengeance on Vincent and his Chinese buddy. In that racially fraught climate, with hateful anti-Japanese vitriol in the news every day, these developments made the connection to racism clear. With the first-person testimony that revealed the killers’ racial comments, ACJ publicly called for a civil rights investigation—and the backlash was immediate. Angry white conservatives called into radio talk shows, furious that racism was brought into the picture. “What does race have to do with this?” one caller told the Detroit News hotline. “Don’t white people have civil rights?” asked another. White liberals were the most skeptical. A constitutional law professor at Wayne State University, Robert Sedler, met with ACJ’s attorney committee and told them to “forget about a civil rights case.” In his opinion, civil rights laws were enacted to protect African Americans, not Asians. “Asian Americans cannot seek redress using federal civil rights law; besides,” he said, “because Asians are considered white.” To him, Asian Americans simply blended

into white, rendering them invisible in his eyes and in the law. Howard Simon, the executive director of the American Civil Liberties Union of Michigan, dismissed the outcry from Asian Americans as a movement of lawand-order zealots who were aiding the movement for “mandatory sentencing.” The Michigan ACLU wasn’t interested in the civil rights aspects of Chin’s slaying. Even the Detroit chapter of the National Lawyers Guild, a self-described progressive law group, saw no connection between Vincent Chin’s killing and racism. But their West Coast chapters, more familiar with Asians’ history with racial violence, persisted and mustered enough votes to give the national endorsement to ACJ’s cause. A near-mutiny broke out in the Detroit chapter, but the national body prevailed. ACJ representatives also approached the United Auto Workers Union, which had a powerful presence in Detroit. If ACJ could change some of its members’ anti-Japanese innuendo, perhaps some of the hostility and violence against Asian Americans could be reduced. But they were up against too strong a tide. Outside the UAW’s headquarters at Solidarity House were numerous racially inflammatory signs and bumperstickers: “300,000 Laid Off Autoworkers say Park Your Import in Tokyo.” European imports, including the popular, fuel-efficient Volkswagen Beetles, did not draw any ill feeling at all, but then, racism and scapegoating only works when the target looks different. Such uninformed and negative reactions only further reinforced lingering doubts within the Asian American communities. Through open community meetings, ACJ created the space for people to bring their questions about where Asian Americans fit in America’s racial dynamics. Some asked: If race is such a volatile subject for white and Black Americans, why should Asian Americans step in to face potential wrath from either, or both? Would Asians get labeled as troublemakers for speaking up, the way African Americans are sometimes perceived? If ACJ stepped out of the shadows to make waves, would the community face even more targeting? If the Asian American community pursues a civil rights investigation, would it be necessary to talk about race? ACJ’s leaders embraced the opportunity to openly discuss concerns and offered straightforward answers to such questions and doubts: yes, a civil rights suit would involve race. Staying silent would do nothing to protect Asian Americans from the racial hostility all around us, just as silence had not kept Vincent Chin from becoming a target. Other Asian Americans shared their long years of frustration and humiliation that brought them to speak out about Vincent Chin. “I’ve worked hard for my company for 40 years,” said one auto industry tech professional. “They always passed over me for promotions because I’m Chinese. I trained so many young white boys to be my boss. I never complained, but inside, I was burning up. This time, I must speak out. What happened in Vincent Chin’s case is not fair. What is the point of silence if our children can be killed and treated like this?” Outrage over the injustice overcame the fear. ACJ and the Asian Americans of metro Detroit would take their fight to the federal level in the arena of civil rights and racial politics.

Conversation Questions

» What were some of the challenges facing the ACJ and activists about their concerns for Asian American civil rights? » Why were some people resistant to claims of racism in Vincent Chin’s murder? » Let’s revisit one particular passage in this article: “…Asian Americans had no legitimate place in discussions of racism. Such reactions offered an insight into the ambivalence towards Asian Americans even today, when Asian communities and issues struggle to break out of invisibility and into the dominant public discourse.”

What were some of the historical and modern barriers contributing to this sense of invisibility and uncertainty about speaking out about critical issues? » How does fear influence decisions we make, and don’t make, and how can we face our fears in ways that help to create a more just future?