My first semester of college I took a course called Rhetorical Theory. We puzzled through Nietzsche, poured over articles and pictures of the Dakota Access Pipeline, and listened to unfocused speeches by Kanye. Simultaneously, we dug into theories regarding persuasive speech and applied them when relevant. In particular, I gravitated towards an article called Rhetorical Listening: A Trope for Interpretive Invention and a "Code of Cross-Cultural Conduct" by Krista Ratcliffe. The lengthily titled piece essentializes the need for listening to what is not there: Who is the author? What is their status and what privileges do they maintain? Who is responsible for who’s representation? Who is being impacted? Who isn’t being heard?
This theory framed my academic experience and I continue to use it to parse through not only media, like articles, movies, and books, but also experiences in academics and life as a whole. In another course called US Women’s Rights Rhetoric Since 1920, we read Pauli Murray, Betty Friedan, Dolores Huertas, and Audre Lorde. We discussed Title IX and the ways in which women could more fully engage in American life as a result.
Only once was an Asian American woman mentioned. Yuri Kochiyama’s piece “Then Came War” was on our reading list, but we never reflected upon the implication of internment during WWII on Kochiyama’s future as a powerful organizer and close ally to Malcom X. Further, Title IX itself was authored mainly by Patsy Mink, a third generation Japanese-American representative from Hawaii who was known for her progressive ideals and independent decision making. We discussed women’s rights in the workplace and sports, but her name never surfaced. Women like Judy Chu, Grace Lee Boggs, and Helen Zia were also never mentioned.
As I sit and reflect on last week’s discussions on representation and media, I can’t help but wonder about the ramifications of erasing Asian American women from activism. Everyone must be impacted by this—I know I’m impacted! I spent a lot of time rhetorically listening for voices outside of my identity whether it be Indigenous or Black or disabled or queer because I saw very few Asian American women within the history of activism I was given.
Thus, listening to Stephanie Tom, Jessica Duong, Sophia Kwang Kim, Erica Ngo, Amy Ho, and Ellen Green while being surrounded by a majority female cohort has been more empowering than I can express. I feel as though I have more options than I ever dreamed to have as both a multiracial Asian American woman and a first generation college student because I was able to listen to all of these amazing women simply tell the stories of their lives.
In sum, my expectations for representations of Asian American women in activism have increased and solidified significantly. The visibility of this non-partisan community is now a centerpiece of my career goals and I intend to hold onto this framework as I navigate the rest of my life as an Asian American woman.