Everyday, it seems like we are bombarded with a splurge of notifications from news apps and streams of videos on TikTok documenting what seems to be an endless number of hate crimes and incidents. And while these attacks are isolating for the individuals that experience them, there is no denying that they have a community-wide impact. It follows then, that they require a community-wide response.
As I stood in the middle of the Pabelonia room at the Pilipino Workers Center (PWC), surrounded by colorful fabrics and upbeat chatter on July 27, I witnessed what that community-wide response should look like. The night was filled with presentations and entertainment, and most of all, one of the stronger senses of solidarity that I had felt in-person for a long time. There, I presented with my fellow intern on PWC’s Sala Talks, a program to inspire talking about Anti-Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) hate with your friends and family. Honestly, compared to the other presenters, I am not sure how well we connected with the audience. Speaking about the bubonic plague and smallpox outbreaks in the 1800s seemed so far away from the crowd’s lived experiences.
While they learned from us, we learned from them. Community members shared why they felt Anti-AAPI hate was relevant today, and some of the common rhetoric they had heard in response to our questions. They also shared needs, like defense classes for the elderly and both virtual and in-person Sala Talk opportunities. The cooperative nature of the attendees could not have been possible without the trust PWC had built with them through decades of community organizing.
The latter half of the night was devoted to Noel Cabangon, a renowned Filipino singer and songwriter. His songs incorporate social issues like human rights and the environment, and turn them into tools for empowerment. Guitar strings filled the air and the crowd sang along in Tagalog to their favorites, swaying to the beat.
A couple of days prior, when I had seen the words “Healing Session with Noel Cabangon” sectioned out for over half of the Stop the Hate event’s schedule, I had my doubts. How could we start healing when we had barely started responding? Where was the focus on civil and legal claims, on reporting hate incidents to AAPI data groups, all of the substantive measurable things that I considered a proper reaction to hate incidents? The material compensation and support for targeted people was my number one priority.
But when Cabangon had the audience enraptured with his lyrics, holding their attention far better than my presentation earlier ever could, I realized just how important community healing was. How else do you deal with the emotional fatigue and isolation that each wave of hate attacks brings with it? I had always seen healing as a want and not a need. I now know that isn’t the case.
Though we discussed topics of hate that night, Executive Director of PWC, Aquilina Soriano Versoza, described the healing session best in her opening remarks. “Even though it's a Stop The Hate program, it’s really love that brings us together. It’s the love for each other as people, wanting to protect each other, protect our dignity as a community,” she said. Healing in itself, is an act of love. Now, more than ever, it’s what we need.