Wishful Sinking*

A cute three-year old looked me in the eye

and said, "your eyes are weird"

I love who I am now, but it still stung

Then you came over, a relative of the little girl

to find out what she said

and she repeated, "her eyes are weird"

And you laughed at her innocent comment**

But I wish

you had said something to remind me my eyes are beautiful

you had said something to teach her my eyes are beautiful

I wish

"Oh, I think you're talking about Joyce"

My Korean American friend was apologetic as she said it 

a careful voice I have also borrowed in these sorts of situations

when someone mixes you up for another Asian American girl in the room

and then you will try to sweep away the obvious awkwardness of the moment

and discreetly hurl - as far away as you can - the pain of being mistaken

even though there were only 6 people total in the group

even though we had different hairstyles and stories

even though even though even though

and just like that, everyone moved on***

But I wish

someone had checked in on us later to see if we were doing okay

the one who misspoke & misremembered had taken time 1-on-1 to apologize

the host of the gathering had followed up with the one who'd publically hurt us and expressed to us that she had our backs

I wish

And I wish 

I could say all of these events only happened in my childhood

    as if microaggressions stop happening after you turn 18

And I wish

I could say that these events took place with strangers

    but they happened in the homes of people who say they love me

And I wish

I could say that this happened with people who don't profess a faith that compels them to love people deeply and radically - just as I have professed

    but I guess checking off a box that says Christian doesn't automatically teach you empathy, action, and how to actually live like the Good Samaritan 

And I wish

I wish I wish

How long will you ask me to keep wishing? 

How long will you watch and remain silent?

As I fall down - and try by myself - to keep standing up again

Again

Again

Notes from the Author:

*I originally wanted to name this something more provocative. You can personally ask me about it if you're a curious one. :)

**When the child said this to me, I was honestly so shocked I think it showed a little on my face. I know children are innocent, and that they can be shaped by adults they trust, so in my response, I wanted to model to this little one what self-acceptance and self-love looks like. There was really no context to her statement about my eyes, as we were just playing with toys. I looked back at her playfully and said, "I think they're beautiful!" to which she said again "your eyes look weird". I think she would have kept saying it if the relative didn't come over. Unfortunately, the relative didn't say anything and that definitely stung even more. A few months later, I was interacting with this same child and she was talking about her own eyes being a different color from her siblings who all had the same eye color. It was a memorable conversation for me, because we talked about how all of the eyes were beautiful, how they were all just different. Not better, not worse, just different AND beautiful.

***In this situation, we had all just met and given self-introductions maybe 10 minutes prior. I totally understand that mix-ups happen and everyone had shifted to sit in different places in the room since the ice breakers happened. This kind of mix-up hurts so much, because it is a reminder that "you are just another *insert group identifier name* - I don't have the mental capacity to remember you as your own unique individual". The crazy thing is that it seems like it doesn't matter how small the group is, how few people total that require remembering on a team, or even how long you've been involved in that group, it will still happen.  

I want to note that I have had to take time again and again to process these events. Not necessarily by choice, but just because the memory will pop up and I'll be forced to address it again. Random moments might remind me of when these things happened and then connect to other microaggressions I experienced when I was younger. While I might want to bury these memories forever, it often is not possible. It would be dishonest of me to say that the microaggressions I have experienced don't bother me anymore. They will always bother me, because they didn't unfold in the way I wished for. However, they don't haunt me like a nightmare, but more like something I can recognize has happened, may likely happen again, and move forward knowing I can name my own worth in the eyes of Our God - in a world that will always fail to. I can simultaneously be disappointed in people for not being better advocates and love them for the way that they do overflow kindness to my life. There's no "either or", it's "both and".