BEYOND LIMITS

GOING BEYOND LIMITS

While writing this, I have simultaneously been watching on TV an older Asian woman being assaulted on the street just because she is Asian. A few minutes later, during the same news segment, I relive the horrific murder of a Black man, as the coverage of George Floyd’s murder prosecution unfolds. I saw examples of outright misogyny as stalwarts of society denigrate women. And as I wrap up our cover story on actor and comedian Aasif Mandvi, and his experience being Muslim in America post 911, I am reminded of the xenophobia that lingers on.

Prejudice and hatred are repulsive and incomprehensible, and while I had hoped they were vestiges of a troubled past, they are not just present but are getting uglier every day, sometimes under the guise of freedom of speech and expression.

The Merriam Dictionary defines prejudice as “a feeling of unfair dislike directed against an individual or a group because of some characteristic (as race or religion).” Bias, conscious or unconscious, is part of human nature, but when bias is nurtured into prejudice, to bloom into hate and violence, it becomes dangerous and unacceptable.

Like destructive weeds, prejudice and race will always procreate and spread. If not pruned, they can take over, overwhelm and ruin the entire garden.

Take what Aasif Mandvi says in the article on page 32, about the difficulty of having a Muslim identity in America.

“Being Muslim in America before 911 could best be summed up as, nobody really knew what Muslim was. Nobody asked me about it. Nobody cared. After 911, suddenly there was a label. Muslim became a dirty word … and Islam became a scary sort of thing.”

Here is where leadership comes in. Two years ago... when terror attacks happened in Christchurch, New Zealanders reeled, shocked by the casual racism exhibited – even if the attacker was Australian. But the response there was heartwarming. People flocked the streets to support the Muslim community. Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern spoke with a clarity that left no doubt about where she stood. Her focus was on inclusivity and solidarity. The day after the attacks, Ardern traveled to meet members of the Muslim community.

“I am here today to bring with me the grief of all New Zealand,” The Guardian quoted her as saying. “I am here to stand alongside you... We feel grief, we feel injustice, and we feel anger.” Ardern wore a headscarf to show her support to the community.

Today as we approach the one-year anniversary of George Floyd’s death, which came after a policeman kneeled on his neck, we show our solidarity with Black Lives Matter and come to terms with racial and social injustice in America. But the hate crimes against Asians is a depressing reminder that we have not evolved or learned our lessons. We are still atavistic in our responses, and have much to learn.

Almost two decades ago, I learned an interesting fact as we worked on the Human Genome Project, the effort to map and sequence the blueprint of a human being. We humans are 99.9 percent identical to each other in our genetic makeup, and yet we find those inconsequential differences a reason to hate the other.

Most of us came to America to escape the bigotry that we hoped to leave behind, and find a better life in the land of the free, the home of the brave, a place of dreams and opportunity.

But we have to tend to this — your land and my land. We must work to weed out prejudice and hate, if only to prevent them from laying waste to our land.