An attendee at the prayer vigil expresses her pride in being Asian. Photo by Chris Stone
An attendee at the prayer vigil expresses her pride in being Asian. Photo by Chris Stone

Elizabeth Lynn Rakphongphairoj Kilrain’s voice was thick with emotion.

“I’m still coming to terms with what it means to be Asian American.… I am not a fetish, I’m not a temptation, I’m not a treat when your wife isn’t looking,” said the artist and software engineer. “I am not your anime dreams. I am not cute, I’m not a trophy, I’m not submissive. I’m not passive. I am a whole person.”

Raw pain of past and present anti-Asian racism — and anxiety of what is to come — filled the evening air Tuesday at the City Heights Performance Annex.

The San Diego Prayer Vigil for Asian-American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) Solidarity, attended by hundreds, was organized by Table San Diego, the Asian Pacific Labor Alliance San Diego, and the San Diego Asian Pacific Islander Coalition following the murder of eight people, six of them Asian women, last week in Atlanta.

  • Rabbi Devorah Marcus of Temple Emanu-El of San Diego speaks to a crowd of hundreds at a prayer vigil in front of the City Heights Performance Annex.Photo by Chris Stone
  • Hundreds of people gathered in the Mid City area to hear the voices of Asian Americans and faith leaders.
  • These women are women hundreds of people who attended a prayer vigil for Asian Americans and Pacific Ilanders. Photo by Chris Stone
  • Women held signs at a prayer vigil, condemning white supremacy and Asian racism. Photo by Chris Stone
  • Asian Americans at the prayer vigil prepared signs.
  • Women held signs at a prayer vigil, condemning white supremacy and Asian racism. Photo by Chris Stone
  • A diverse crowd attended a prayer vigil against Asian racism. Photo by Chris Stone
  • A diverse crowd attended a prayer vigil against Asian racism. Photo by Chris Stone
  • A diverse crowd attended a prayer vigil against Asian racism. Photo by Chris Stone
  • Elizabeth Lynn Rakphongphairoj Kilrain speaks of the struggles of Asian American women. Photo by Chris Stone
  • An attendee at the prayer vigil expresses her pride in being Asian. Photo by Chris Stone
  • Attendees were guided in mindfulness before the prayer vigil. Photo by Chris Stone
  • Attendees were guided in mindfulness before the prayer vigil. Photo by Chris Stone
  • Vietnamese Pastor David Tran of Table San Diego, spoke passionately of his feelings following the murder of Asian women in Atlanta. Photo by Chris St
  • Two participants share a moment during a prayer vigil, calling for the end to Asian racism. Photo by Chris Stone

Pastor David Tran of Table San Diego led Asian Americans in the first half of the vigil that included talks about the Asian experience in the U.S.

The second part involved statements of solidarity from clergy and faith leaders including Rabbi Devorah Marcus of Temple Emanu-El of San Diego, the Rev. Beth Johnson of Palomar Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, Dinora Reyna-Gutierrez of San Diego Organizing Project and Imam Taha Hassane of Islamic Center of San Diego.

Tran had some of the strongest words of the two-hour vigil.

“This past week, my body has been dominated with anxiety and fear, bottomless grief, and rage,” the Vietnamese pastor said. “I have been unable to sleep. I have heard story after story of racism, gas lighting and silencing. I have been devastated by the silencing and gaslighting from white Christians.

“Can we ask ourselves: Can the shooter’s sexual addiction and fetishizing of Asian women be disembodied from gender and race? We all know the damn answer. So to the American church, I am speaking to you right now. To be like Jesus, we must decolonize and dismantle white supremacy.”

Some Asian speakers said they thought of the struggles of their family members when they got the word last week of the shootings. Some relatives had been on public transit or in businesses when people screamed at them because of their race.

They wondered what would have happened to their relatives if the situations they experienced had turned deadly.

Some speakers talked about stereotypes. Others spoke about the “invisibility” of Asian Americans.

Said Erin Tsurumoto Grassi, regional policy director of Alliance San Diego and member of the Asian Pacific Labor Alliance San Diego: “As with many of my fellow Asian Americans, the shooting in Atlanta last week shook me to my very core.”

She said that while last week’s shooting may come as a surprise to many people, it is nothing new and not isolated. 

Calling hate crimes against Asian Americans “terrifying,” Grassi said: “The Asian American community has been rendered invisible for far too long, and we cannot afford to be invisible any longer.”

She added: “So tonight we invite you to stand with us as we fight against hatred and racism against our community.”
 
Grassi gave a series of suggestions for those who want to be part of the solution.

  • Speak out when you hear mocking, slurs and hatred against Asian Americans.
  • Include Asians in organizations and listen to concerns and allow Asian people to be heard.
  • Support Asian Americans Advancing Justice-Atlanta and the NAACP.
  • Support local organizations including San Diego API Coalition, Asian Solidarity Collective, Karen Organization of San Diego, API Initiative and APALA San Diego.
  • Fight against white supremacy.

Ram Rodriguez, a 14-year-old girl from the Mid-City area who attended the event, said: “After all of the shootings and the crimes against Asian Americans right now, I feel like this is my part, what I can do to help.”

She said she wanted to show respect for the lives lost in Atlanta.

Carolyn Floyd of Kearny Mesa, an audience member, said before the event: “It’s important that we respect all humanity. We’ve spent so much time talking about Black Lives Matter. But Asian lives matter, native lives matter. They all matter and until everyone is treated equally, we need to come out and have our voices heard.”

She said she hoped it shows the AAPI community that they have support and that they’re not alone.

“We’re working on it,” she said, “but it’s slow to get some people to change.”

Another speaker, Wendy Kim — a diversity, equity and inclusion consultant — said her upbringing was filled with admonitions such as “Put your head down, Don’t speak up. Work hard. They don’t want to hear from you. Don’t make waves. Your voice doesn’t matter.”

Asian women must be quiet and submissive, was the expectation of Americans.

However, Kim, the Korean author of “Beyond Blending In,” said: “It’s time for us as a community to use our voice. Our voice matters. We matter. Stand up with people of color. I implore you to recognize that those old beliefs were the lies of white patriarchy. You do make a difference.”

Korean immigrant Julia Park, a social worker, said her American experience has been punctuated with a lack of respect.

“I am seen as a foreigner. And to others, I am less than. I can’t possibly be a real American with the way I look,” she said.

When she first heard news of the Atlanta shootings, on one level she was relieved that people were speaking as though the victim’s lives mattered.

“I really didn’t think that anyone would care. I anxiously wonder who is next, where is next?” she said. “Will anyone still care in a week?”

Park’s pain and fear was clearly expressed.

“I am just sad, asking to be seen, asking to be acknowledged that we are being hurt. … I’m angry and tired of the contempt and distain for my community. I just feel really anxious and overwhelmed.”

“It’s not OK. We’re not OK. I’m not OK,” Park said. 

But the Rev. Daniel So of Anchor City Church, who spoke later, had words for Park and other Asian Americans.

“I want to remind you: You are not alone. Your life is sacred. You are beloved. You are made in the image of God, who has imprinted you with inherent dignity and worth,” the minister said.

“As a Christian, I am truly sorry that church spaces are far too often spaces of oppression rather than healing, redemption and empowerment for AAIP women,” he said. “You are not invisible. Today we see you. You are worthy. Not because of your achievements or your ability to endure suffering, but simply because you are.”

Rabbi Marcus spoke of the purpose of the event and echoed the theme of love.

“We stand in solidarity today because of the violence of a man who fetishized women and then thought to enact violence against them and that violence was only increased when another man in a position of weaponized authority referred to his actions as a bad day,” the rabbi said.

She continued, “It was an affront to all of humanity, and it is one that we cannot allow to go unchecked, unmarked and unresponded to and that’s why we are here together today.”

But then she weaved her thoughts with the age-old question of the meaning of life.

The meaning of life is to offer each other love, friendship, kindness and support, she said.

“This world is filled with beauty and chaos,” Marcus concluded. “And the highest expression of our human purpose is to stand by and with each.”

She encouraged the crowd to look past race.

“Let us celebrate each other instead of denigrate each other,” she said.