“The Walking Virus”: Living as Asians During COVID-19

Even if everything eventually goes back to “normal,” another kind of virus might still plant itself in our mind, creating fear and stress. 

BY: JINGSHU YAO

Art by Daniel Gomes // THE UNDERGROUND

I came across this tweet by actor James Tang on a language meme website:

Photo courtesy of Twitter

Many viewers reacted with thumbs up and laughing emojis, but I found it hard to laugh off. The tone of the tweet and the event it described are more sad than funny. The flame of racial discrimination, fuelled by this time period, has affected the lives of too many.

I went to Vancouver for an academic conference in early February. On my way back from Pearson International Airport, a taxi driver didn’t give me a ride until I told him I hadn’t left Canada over the past year. I wasn’t sure if the driver checked with every passenger to make sure they weren’t possible carriers of the virus, or if he only did that to those who appeared to be East Asian. It was even more confusing (something like this) when I realized that the change he gave me was actually an arcade token with the same size of a two dollar coin. Until today, I still wondered if that was a mere coincidence or it was connected to my facial appearance and identity. 

Since COVID-19 started to threaten public health around the world, another virus made its way into our communities. It was less visible but added another shade on top of the pandemic. A 92-year-old man was insulted and pushed in a convenience store; Asian students were bullied and beaten at school. The protest and concerns of individuals and organizations did not reduce the frequency of these incidents.

For the Asian community, the fear of becoming targets of discrimination has invaded our lives, adding more pressure to the mental and financial problems that already exist. Some dare not leave their home for work or groceries; some storeowners shut down their business in fear of hateful attacks. A poll by CTV confirmed that at least ten percent of the 531 interviewees in Vancouver and Montreal thought that every Asian person carries the virus; they also don’t feel safe sitting next to an Asian person unmasked on a bus. 

The video of the elderly man who was being insulted was caught by the store’s surveillance camera and watching the event unfold was heartbreaking. What shocked me the most was the indifferent responses of the other people in the store and the passersby. If social distancing has stopped people from reaching out to help a victim, then even if the virus did not invade our body, it invaded our mind. 

Other than making weekly trips to Food Basics, I spend most of my time in my room and the outside world seems distant to me. But I am aware that not everyone is able to work from home and avoid direct interaction like I do. East Asians who work on the front line and in essential businesses are the most deserving of respect during critical times like this, but also at the most risk of becoming the target. A nurse reported that she was hit by an umbrella and spat on in downtown Toronto. Several cases of property damage in Asian stores and restaurants because of xenophobic attacks were also reported during the past few months.

The experience of researching these events was upsetting and I didn’t know how to write about them properly in the beginning. Discrimination and the damages it’s brought along are not easy to express, and my own experience was also too limited compared with those who were being insulted, attacked, and even killed. Yet my identity as a Chinese student overseas has pushed me to think and talk about it. I reached out to Dr. Carrianne Leung for a more professional point of view.

“I think of racism as terrorism” Interview with Carrianne Leung

Photo courtesy of Carriane Leung

Dr. Carrianne Leung is a writer and a sociologist whose PhD focus was race and nationalism. In 2004, Dr. Leung was the lead researcher on the social impact of SARS on Chinese, East Asian, and Southeast Asian communities in Toronto. Her research paper “Yellow Peril Revisited: Impact of SARS on the Chinese and Southeast Asian Canadian Communities” pointed out that racist ideology changed the public health crisis into a social crisis. The effect of the social crisis would last much longer and impact more aspects of our lives than the disease itself.

“In this moment when discourses around national security and fear are ever intensifying, the racialization of SARS is just one example among many of how ethno-racial communities are vulnerable to being subjected to further marginalization” (Leung, 2004). Leung’s research analyzed the impact of media perception, economic and employment, self-image and sense of belonging, and community responses on Asians during SARS. 16 years later, many of the phenomena, such as the large number of images of Asians wearing masks featured in news articles, the depression of Asian owned business, alienation and harassment from others, seem to repeat themselves.

“I knew very early on that the racist backlash would occur again, and this time, it would be much worse,” Leung said. She witnessed someone drive by and yell a racist slur at an older East Asian man wearing a mask on the street. Even in January and February, people avoided sitting beside her on buses. “In moments of crisis, the discourse of Chinese and Chinese-read people as ‘plague’ and ‘yellow peril’  are reactivated.” 

While the act of discrimination is hurtful, many individuals with Chinese or East Asian heritage live under fear and pressure of becoming the next target. Some avoid leaving their house, afraid of going to the grocery store or even taking a walk around the neighbourhood. They suffer mentally and physically even though they don’t experience racism directly. 

“I think of racism as terrorism,” Leung said. While some may argue that the two are different, I looked up the definition for terrorism on the website of Department of Justice and feel it resonates with Leung’s point. Though academics have always argued about the scope of terrorism, the key actions that define terrorism and racism—namely the intention of intimidating the public, inciting possible violence against people, and causing damage to property—make the two similar in nature. 

“Even if you have not experienced incidences of harassment and violence based on how your body is coded, you will be braced for it.” Leung suggests that racism affects the victims intellectually, viscerally, emotionally. The stress on their minds, bodies and spirits cannot be diminished. Racist incidents can’t be dismissed as “isolated” because they are a pattern and they are global. They’ve eliminated the sense of belonging for Chinese/East Asian individuals who were deprived of their space and voice. 

Leung expressed her concerns about mental health issues during this critical time. She introduced the initiative Project Protech, where individuals can seek help facing crises.For those who have experienced mistreatment and discrimination due to their ethnicity and identity, Leung provided kind words and suggestions.

“I want to say that it's ok to be afraid,” Leung said. “It's a very frightening time but it's not new. We need to come together and join others to stand a position against it. Other communities also face racial discrimination when there isn't a pandemic happening. This isn't individual. Reach out, talk to someone, connect. There are resources for you. If it's something that you feel you need legal assistance with, there is the Chinese and SE Asian Legal clinic.”

Leung added that documenting what happened is also an important action at this moment. Individuals who experienced racism can report to https://ccnctoronto.ca.

 Shortly after the interview with me, Leung wrote an article to share a more professional point of view on the racialization of Asians during the pandemic. The article, “Racism: The Other Pandemic,” can be found on the University College website. 

“I think we are in a moment of great transitions. It's not just quarantine or the pandemic,” Leung said. “This moment of crisis has revealed so many things, including the deep inequities that we are seeing in the world.”. 

Before the pandemic, when I imagined May 2020, I thought I’d be busy preparing for my parents’ first visit to Canada. I imagined all the places I wanted to show them, all the restaurants I wanted to take them to; I imagined myself holding my diploma and celebrating with them. 

Two months into quarantine, the cancellation of the plans no longer upsets me. I feel lucky because the pandemic hasn’t had a direct impact on my health, nor have I been the direct target of racism. However, I panic when I get too close to anyone in the narrow aisle of the grocery store. My feet automatically carry me to the traffic lane whenever there are pedestrians coming from the opposite direction. I realize that the fear of becoming the target has made me feel guilty for who I am and how I look. The news and the stories I heard somehow made me feel less than others. I hated these feelings yet couldn’t remove them from my mind. 

Meanwhile, I know there are many more who are more vulnerable than me and facing additional risks but have no idea where to get help. I never studied medicine or related subjects so I can’t join the research or provide healthcare. I don’t even have a car to deliver groceries for those who need the service. I only have my words, but I don’t know what the world would need from words at this moment.

Among all the interview questions with Leung, I slipped in a rather personal one. “How could writers, especially those of Asian descent, help in these situations?”

“As a writer, I feel it's our responsibility to reflect the world we live, and at the moment, I do not have the words yet,” Leung said. “I will wait until I find the language again.”

Leung explained that she hasn’t been writing but isn’t frustrated about it. Instead, she’s taken up stitching and embroidery.

“When you feel you can, you can write about this time,” Leung says. “Sometimes, racism feels like gaslighting. For many white people who have never lived racial discrimination, they may not believe or minimize your experiences. Keep writing for yourself. I find writing helps me centre my own experiences. Write for others who need to hear that you also feel these things. But most of all, take good care of yourself and each other. There is a lot of pain that comes from being targeted.”

So I write about a Chinese girl who dared not reach for a jar of peanut butter in a convenience store because someone else was standing beside the shelf. I write about a Vietnamese boy who does contactless food delivery during the quarantine. While many are looking forward to everything to get back to “normal,” the pandemic may forever change the ways in which we view the world. I certainly wish that we can one day forget about the pain and loss that COVID-19 brought us, but I still believe that the racialization and marginalization of Asians should be thought about and discussed. Otherwise, they may be reduced to the image of a faceless figure with a pair of black eyes above a giant medical mask, recorded in databases, books, and people’s memory.