Exploring America's Racial Consciousness with Cathy Park Hong

Cathy Hong: Hi. I was told that I should talk for a moment. And it's a little daunting, I think to just, just start talking, but I will. I wanted to do something a little unscripted and see how that goes. But I have to say I'm really, really honored to be here and talking to you and many of you whom are getting a degree in what is it, it’s…

Stephanie Chen: Clinical psychology.

Cathy Hong: In clinical psychology. And I think it's, I don't know where I would be without my therapist. So I thank you all. But also, you know, when I, you know, my book, Minor Feelings begins with me falling into a depression, and then, and then seeking out a therapist and I went, I really wanted to find a Korean American therapist, because I, I guess I thought of it as a life hack. Like, if I went to see a Korean American therapist, and I didn't have to explain my problems, she would just know, you know, it's like just a shortcut, like she just knew. And if you read the book, you see that you would, you know, you know that what happened was that when I saw the therapist, she went through sort of like the, a list of symptoms, she was asking me for a list of symptoms. And then she asked me, Have you ever felt comfort in your childhood? And I could not think of a single moment. And then I burst into tears. And something really broke through. And I realized that she was the one and I had to see her. And then she ghosted me. So this is what happens in the book. And this is what actually happened in my life. And, but I couldn't, I wasn't, I wouldn't accept that, because I was so desperate. And I called her, harassed her and called her a number of times. I thought because I was calling her office phone that she wouldn't, she wouldn't know how many times I was calling her. And then I was like, Oh, wait, maybe she has caller ID. But eventually, we talked. I remember, I was at the Dallas Airport, getting Mexican food. And she told me that we weren't right for each other. And I was so flabbergasted. I didn't realize that finding a therapist was like dating, that your therapist could reject you. So I asked her why. And she said, I can't give you that information. And I was like, what? What? And then that was that. And then I found a Jewish therapist, who I've been seeing ever since. But what I want to say is, since the book has come out, I have met many Asian American therapists, including Korean American therapists. And it's been really just heartening to have conversations with them and to see them really committed and interest…, really committed and to see their care and passion and interest in breaking into psychotherapy, which has been, you know, predominantly white. And from what I hear, it's been diversifying, not without some struggle. And I think that is really essential, really crucial, because, you know, I'm also, I'm working, I just finished a novel. And it does have a lot of psychoanalysis. I mean, in it, I've been, I was reading Lacan while I was writing the book, and because it has a lot to do with mothers, of course. And, but I think, you know, I've really been interested in therapy and psycho, mental health, just, I mean, I write about it in Minor Feelings, but, but it's also something that I'm interested in this book that I'm working on. And because I really think there's a, I mean, this, it's also been widely written on, that there's a huge treatment gap between, say, Westerners with means, who get diagnosed for every little thing, you know, and I was living in New York, and everyone sees a therapist, it's like going to yoga. But then there's also, there are also immigrants or just people in other countries like Korea, where psychotherapy is still very much a taboo, psychiatry and psychotherapy. And, and I think about that a lot, that huge treatment gap that happens and how there isn't the language to even treat, you know, women from, let's say, immigrant women who come from other countries, you know, women of color, that it's very much filtered through this Western lens of psychotherapy or the DSM five, right, which doesn't capture, I don't think there's, it captures everything. And I, you know, I grew up, you know, in a community, I think, where there were a lot of just, you know, my friends or people I knew whose mothers suffered or experienced some kind of distress. But they were never able to, they never got diagnosed, they never sought help, they never, there was no language for what they endured. And, you know, got and, you know, I think, including my own mother, who's not the mother in the book, by the way, she's the mother in the book is like a composite. And, you know, and I think like when that, when you're growing, under, up under that kind of upbringing, and there's no language for it, there's no support for it. You think it's your fault, right? Or you think there's something wrong with you. And it's like, and I was also just recently teaching Viet Thanh Nguyen's book, he's a brilliant writer, if you haven't heard of him, he wrote The Sympathizer, which won the Pulitzer Prize in 2015, or 2016 or something. And he wrote a book called Man of Two Faces. And he talks about how his mother who worked all the time, owned a grocery store with his father, his father, and they had sort of this success story. And I think this is also just what's very frustrating, or just what's, you know, the contradiction in the Asian American experience that on paper, immigrants can achieve a seat, look like they've achieved something, right? So they own the grocery store, and they moved to like an upper middle class home. But then his mother had some kind of breakdown and was admitted to the hospital. And he was saying that he just blocked it out from memory. He just didn't, like, he just didn't remember it. And he thought it was happened when he was a kid, like when he was five or, you know, when he was seven or something. And then when he was looking at his diary entries while he was working on the memoir, as traumatic as that. And, you know, if you said that in an entry, he began writing that his mother was admitted and then didn't say anything more. But it was clear to me when I was like reading his book and talking about his book with the students that there was just no, he didn't know how to describe what his mother went through. And, you know, there was, of course, inter-generational trauma, the trauma of the Vietnam War, and being a refugee and having being forced to escape and the kind of hardship she had to face here that definitely had something to do with it. But there was still no, that like her distress wasn't legible, legible in such a way that even her son couldn't face it in any kind of way. And so I've been fascinated or just interested in that gap, that sort of lacuna of, of, of illegibility, where there are immigrant women, like it's, it's interesting to me that for instance, like, I heard something about how immigrant women have the highest, in the, highest level of schizophrenia. I don't know if that's actually true, but I've heard, if that's statistically still true, but you know, and it's also like, you know, when I talk to my own therapist, she's always saying, like, why do you have to diagnose everything? You know, what is, why do you have to put a name to it? And I think it's like, in a way, it's about get, gaining some kind of control, right? Like having some kind of control and knowing that, okay, this is what the problem is. But then at the same time, I also think there is, at least in Western culture, there is an over diagnosis of maladies. And, you know, and that naming or trying to guess or trying to flip through the DSM five and figure out what's wrong with your dad or your mother, grandmother, whatever, is also sort of a fruitless endeavor in its own right. So, but I think finding support in some way and being able to talk about it and find, and trying to kind of shrink that treatment gap in a way. And for psychiatric medicine, I'm conflating the two, I'm sorry, therapy, and also psychiatric medicine for it to expand beyond sort of the Western ways of looking at ourselves or the idea of the self, you know, is absolutely essential.  

Stephanie Chen: Cathy, thank you so much. And I want to pick up some points maybe in our conversation a little bit. So here are my remarks. My copy of Cathy Park Hong's Minor Feelings is full of exclamation points, question marks and marginal notes. I restrained myself from highlighting the entire book, even though so much resonated with me, or made me want to revisit again and again. Cathy's words reflected my own thoughts and experiences. They sounded like those of my Asian American clients and my students. They sounded like my family, and many other families I have worked with. Her collection of essays functioned as a mirror, offering an opportunity for my own reckoning with my Asian American consciousness and unconsciousness. A process that has been illuminating, uncomfortable, and full of still unanswerable questions. I took Cathy's words on page 39, where she says, What the fuck am I doing here? Who am I writing for?, as my inspiration for my reflections today. I offer these remarks in response to her call, as well as to other Asian American thinkers, encyclo-analysts who have been urging more contributions to an Asian American canon. One in which we are not objects of the white gaze, but investigators and proclaimers of our own subjectivity, and perhaps two, a collective intersubjectivity. As an Asian American clinician, working primarily with Asian American clients, I approach this work from a professional, social, and personally situated perspective. It is informed by my immigration story of being born in Taiwan, raised by maternal grandparents until I was six, before joining my parents in New York City. A young girl who learned English fluency by listening to Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson, and Bon Jovi, and survived difficult latency in adolescent years in predominantly white schools, when all I wanted was to belong and be like my peers. My undergraduate degrees in psychology and in independent Asian American studies taught me to yell, to be angry, and to say no, and to engage in civil protest. My clinical training and orientation are grounded by a love of psychoanalytic and multicultural theories. These multiple parts shape how I listen, interpret, and make meaning alongside my clients, and informs the reflections that follow. I recognize an electric undercurrent within and around me. I feel stirred and acutely of my desire of refusal to refuse being neutralized, obedient, pliable, digestible, or easily categorizable within the many Asian American stereotypes built on binaries and a lack of imagination. I carry with me the essence of ancestors connected through blood or spirit. I bring with me my teachers and elders and colleagues, people like David Yang, Xing Yi Hong, Mary Kim Brewster, Usha Tummala-Narra, Chris Yi, Joseph Reynoso, Claire Jean Kim, Ann Ann-Lynn Chang, John Okada, David Henry Huang, and Renee Tajima-Peña, to name a few. And of course, always my Asian American clients, students, and supervisees. Being Asian American is marked by both visibility and hyper visibility. Asian Americans are significantly underrepresented in research study, regardless of field. We are often considered too heterogeneous, or too homogenous to study, or not compelling enough to incite interest or curiosity. I recall a striking statistic. The National Institute of Health allocated less than 1%, specifically 0.17% of the total funding to Asian health between 1992 and 2018, despite Asians comprising about 6% of the US population. As a result, we lack sufficient data to understand the state of Asian health. Instead, there is widespread assumption that Asians and Asian Americans are well. Additionally, as Asian Americans are often positioned as close to whiteness, white models of prevention, treatment, and care are applied to Asian American patients without question. My 20 plus years of clinical experience tell a different story. Asian American children, adolescents, adults, couples, and families struggle deeply with mental health and wellness. At the same time, Asian Americans become hyper visible in ways that reinforce exoticization, or perceived threat, or as tools to distinguish us from other people of color. Regarding the former, I recall numerous occasions when teachers called on me to explain the cultural significance of the Lunar New Year, the symbolism within Chinese culture, or whether my family had a recipe for fried rice to share. These examples may seem less overtly offensive than what occurred during COVID-19 pandemic, when on a global scale, stereotypes of Asians and Asian Americans re-emerged as the yellow peril, the Asian invasion, a faceless foreign invading horde carrying disease and contamination. In terms of the latter, I want to highlight two points. The myth of the Asian American of, the myth of Asian Americans as a model minority is used to uphold the illusion of meritocracy in the United States. We are portrayed as successful due to quote, strong values and a strong work ethic, in contrast to other minoritized groups who are framed as undeserving and never deserving. Second, the model minority myth continues to be weaponized in service of white supremacy and anti-blackness. Positioned as middlemen within a racial hierarchy, Asian Americans must contend with an honest reckoning with anti-blackness. Political scientist Claire Jean Kim writes that quote, it is more precise to say that Asian Americans are dynamically constituted as not white, but above all, not black. I am not advocating for self-flagellation of complicity. I am also not advocating an erasure or minimalization of our own traumas, or rather, for a more comprehensive analysis that incorporates Kim's, but also Eng and Han's frameworks. By doing so, we can get beside our guilt and shame to construct a more expansive Asian American consciousness. When I think about the psychic and emotional lives of Asian Americans, I am reminded of something actor Steven Yuen said, quote, Sometimes I wonder if the Asian American experience is what it's like when you're thinking about everyone else, but nobody else is thinking about you. This observation captures the hearts of Cathy's essays. The emotional and psychic lives of Asian Americans are not minor or superficial. However, our experiences are often flattened, dismissed, and rendered invisible. Not only do others perceive us this way, but we also internalize these beliefs consciously and unconsciously. We are the unthought subject within the broader American racial consciousness. I'd like to present a clinical vignette composed of several Asian American clients to further illustrate. Sami is a 30 year old cisgender second generation Chinese American woman who sought psychotherapy after experiencing another major depressive episode. She had recently moved back home with her parents during COVID-19. Over five years of work, Sami repeatedly questioned whether her struggles were valid or worthy of attention. Whether talking about her depression, or experiences with racism and sexism, she frequently compared herself to others and minimized her own suffering. Amidst acknowledging her relative privilege, her guilt remained constant. She perceived her challenges as insignificant compared to others, and that other suffering was greater or more important than hers. We returned again and again to her conflicted feelings, shame and guilt about taking up space, alongside moments of relief when she allowed herself to believe her pain was legitimate. Another theme in our work involved her desire to build a life that deviated from expected timelines and milestones. Sami understood what it meant to be a good Chinese daughter, often measured through conventional success, defined by familial, cultural and social standards. This expectation conflicted with her aspirations in the performing arts. She felt indebted to her parents support, while simultaneously burdened by their disappointment. She often asked, quote, how do I repay my parents if I haven't made it? I also heard in Sami's plea, the impossibility of fulfilling the edicts of filial piety, a value treasured and passed down her family and being a model minority. These tensions were compounded by a medical leave we secured a year ago, followed by her recent resignation, due to ongoing grief about her grandmother's death and increasing workplace stress. This culminated in another depressive episode that now included persistent suicidal ideation. Our sessions were filled with her cries of despair. Sami felt torn about leaving her job, what her parents would say about it, and the serious concerns of her emotional fragility. It was common for Sami to say out loud that perhaps it was easier for her to not exist, as she will no longer disappoint her parents, and her friends would not have to worry about her. Her belief that not existing, her absence would bring relief to others was heartbreaking to hear. Interpersonally, Sami yearns to fall in love. COVID-19 and her immunocompromised state limited her ability to date, and the shift to online interactions complicated things further. As an Asian American woman, she continues to be acutely aware of safety concerns, especially amid rising anti-Asian violence. She knows what is expected for her to attract more right swipes. But she is not interested in populating her dating profile to be a list of Asian American female stereotypes. Sami is not interested in fulfilling someone's Asian fetish, and yet feels the pull to be attractive and desirable. We reuse the reframes of quote, for what and whose gain, and quote, what and whose cost, to prompt her exploration and processing of her ambivalence. It's important I think to know a contrast. Many of my Asian American heterosexual male clients face near total exclusion in dating spaces, often ranking lowest in physical attractiveness and sexual desirability. It is not uncommon to see profiles explicitly state quote, no Asians, in those circumstances. As Sami's therapist, I'm aware of both of our shared identities and of our differences. I am at times an object for projections. In my work with Sami, I have been her disappointing parents and employers and her disappointed friend and older sibling and indifferent love interests. Her guilt and shame are achingly familiar. Her own disappointment and anger towards me and our treatment have populated our sessions over the past five years, and it's been hard work. At the same time, I am also a subject. My clients evoke strong emotions and memories. I recognize aspects of their experiences in myself, and at times too close. I feel the weight of structural forces, and at many times a sense of hopelessness. I also feel rage on their behalf and on my own. I close with the following. I am continually reminded of the depth and richness of my Asian American clients' inner lives. The stereotype of Asian American clients lacking interiority or emotional variability is broken by each client who enters my practice. While frustrated at times, none of my clients expect me to teach or tell them what to do. My belief in building a strong therapeutic relationship remains paramount. My approach of quote, being with my Asian American clients, has created a space where all of them are welcomed, which I think has supported their articulation, including silence, supported their expression and their creativity. I am humbled by how willing my Asian American clients are to dwell in the shadows, to be stuck in the unknown with me. I am moved by my clients and their resolve. They are more aware of their Asian American subjectivity and its relationship to structural psychic and cultural pressures. Together, we have been able to think and to feel, which has opened up individual and social imaginings of new possibilities, including pursuing unexpected paths. So when I circle back to Cathy's prompt of what the fuck am I doing here, I would reply for myself, for Sami, and perhaps an Asian American collective that to be seen, to be heard, and to be recognized is exactly what we deserve. So Cathy, shall we start a conversation?  

Cathy: Sure, yeah.  

Stephanie: Well, maybe we can start off, anything you want to follow up from your talk earlier?  

Cathy: Oh, I mean, I said what I said, I and Stephanie, thank you for that beautiful talk. But you know, I think it really segued into, what I was saying really segued into what you were saying about Asian Americans really desiring, lacking in therapy and finding belonging, and way to understand themselves, and always minimizing their, always minimizing their identity. You know, I was gonna talk about… Maybe what I could talk a little bit about just what I've been feeling since I've written Minor Feelings. And for those who don't know, you know, Minor Feelings is an effective condition that I write about where, and it's not particular to Asian Americans, I would say that it's, you know, anyone who feels marginalized in some way where they, it's a spectrum of shame, paranoia, depression, melancholia, what have you, that they feel when they are, they're kind of racialized reality, or is not commensurate, or is not recognized by the larger culture, you know, by the larger dominant culture, the state apparatus that is the US. And, you know, it's specific to Asian Americans, of course, that applies to the model minority and how, you know, they're promised the American dream, there's this expectation that they would succeed, when in fact, they feel this tremendous inadequacy, partly because of, and not to totalize the Asian American experience, but maybe they experienced some kind of conditional love, you know, love that was very conditional and contingent upon how they behave rather than something that's like foundational to just their relationship with their parents. And so they feel this real sense of insufficiency and inadequacy. And of course, also, as you were talking about the hyper invisibility that they feel in, in the US, which is a very real problem. I mean, you know, even to this day, when you look at polls for presidential elections, or any any state, like the Asian Americans are always other, you know, you have like, and it's always frustrating to me, you know, you have African Americans, Latinos and other and it's like, and we are the fastest growing minority in this country. I do think that there's been, the stakes are much higher now. And it's funny, I wrote Minor Feelings during Trump 1.0 and now we are in Trump 2.0. And I, I don't know, I'm just, you know, I think in some ways, you know, when I think about Minor Feelings, this is not, especially more now than ever, that it is definitely not isolated to Asian Americans. This is an effective condition that we all feel. But at the same time at this point, you know, no one believes, very few people believe in the American mythos, you know, I think that has been, that mask has been torn off, you know, and I don't… Maybe there are still immigrants who really still adhere to that belief that America is exceptional. But I think we are in a very disenchanted period, where if you didn't know before that the US is collapsing, right, that's the belief. And I think, you know, for those, for many, many people of color, they knew that this was America for a very long time. This was America that they lived for a long time. This is just America unmasked with a more fascistic tenor. And so for me, it's, I think it's like not enough just to think about Asian American identity. I think it's really essential, it's like, it's so essential to use the tools of mental health. I mean, I say more than tools, but I would say it's so important to use mental health, community, art, you know, any kind of support you can get to find that belonging, but we can't end with belonging. Belonging is not the end goal after that. You have to really think about what solidarity means. And that means that, you know, finding the spirit within you to fight, you know, to fight, we need to fight and, and find joy in that fighting. This is what we have to do. We are in an emergency. And, and I think about this, because I think, you know, today, I just saw how in Tennessee, like there was a, they made the, they voted, the state of Tennessee voted 9-0 to like, redistrict Memphis, and so that the black representation would be wiped out, right? And in my book, I talk about, I write about 1965. 1965 was when they passed the Voting Rights Act, which SCOTUS just completely, which SCOTUS has completely, almost completely annihilated, right, where there's voter protection, where there's, when there's racial discrimination, and this was focused on black Americans in the South. And that was, that law passed in 1965. And then that same year, which I write about in Minor Feelings, they also passed the Hart-Celler Act. The Hart-Celler Act that Lyndon Johnson passed was the law that before it, there was, you know, there was a racial ban, it was a total racist ban on all immigrants coming to the US, except for a small portion of Northern Europeans. After the Hart-Celler Act, they opened it up to immigrants to other parts of the world. And Lyndon Johnson at the, at the time said this will be just, this is going to, this is an insignificant law. It's not going to affect, it's not going to, it's going to make no difference in the makeup of this country. Au contraire, you know, I think like America was at the time was like over 80% white. Now, the US is going to be the, the minorities are going to be the majority, right? Things go naturally as planned by 2040. Project 2025, the Trump administration, all that, are trying to undo the civil rights, rolling back civil rights acts, a civil rights act, and also just undo the Hart-Celler Act, so that the US will be 80% white. And I think what's really essential for Asian Americans who don't know their history, is that the reason why they're here is because of the Civil Rights Act, that if it weren't for the civil rights movement, Lyndon Johnson would have never passed the Hart-Celler Act, because it was, because of racial segregation. Racial segregation was a bad look, right, in the US, and this was in the height of the Cold War. And they had to make themselves look like they were a country that was, if they were gonna, they had to, if they were gonna say they were a free country, because Cold War was all about a PR war, it was a PR war, they had to actually practice that freedom. And that's why they, they passed the Hart-Celler Act. So you know, this is, and that's happening, ICE is happening and so forth. So this is a moment where we have to really try to build bridges across Black, Asian American, Latino, we're all under attack. And not only that, there is a war abroad. And I keep thinking about the 60s, the late 60s, because there's so much, there are a lot of echoes, and also a lot of progress that we're undoing now, for instance, the Vietnam War, Asian Americans, when it became a name, and we cannot forget this, was that it was an oppositional racial identity that was anti-imperialist, and that was built solidarity with other black Americans with the Black Panthers. And, and this is happening again, with the, with the Gaza genocide, and the war in Iran, that, you know, anti-Asian violence is not just what happened. I mean, the book came out before, the book came out before COVID. You know, and they were like, Oh, this book is so timely. And like, anti-Asian hate has always been here, was always, you know, we're just, we're just paying more attention to it. And maybe it was more explicit during COVID times, but anti-Asian hate was, if you want to, the most devastating example of anti-Asian hate was the imperial wars abroad, it was what was happening in Vietnam, in Korea, in Cambodia. And you see echoes of that, you know, I just see history returning constantly in Minnesota, when, you know, I'm sure we've all seen the photo of the man, he was a father, he was Hmong, and he had nothing on and he had like a blanket, and he was being hauled off by ICE, you know, and Hmong people, they were helping the US fight their southeastern, the fight in Cambodia. And then when they had to finally end the war, they abandoned Hmong, the Hmong community, like they abandoned the Afghanis who helped them in Afghanistan. And that led to a massive genocide. And this is also something that we don't talk about was all the genocides that were happening in the US because of US interventions abroad. So when we think about the global history and global colonial problem, we see that Asian America is actually a global, what we face, and our own effective condition of that comes from erasure and invisibility and also violence is something that Palestinians also face that, you know, that the Middle East and this is also ways we can expand what Asian America is, is that it's not just East Asia or South Asia or Southeast Asian, but West Asia as well. And then when we think about it, we have to understand that Asian American, Asian America as a term is very, it's porous, it's coalitional, it's not about what country you're from, it's not territorial. I've been reading a lot of Edouard Glissant, the Poetics of Relation, and he talks about, you know, when you feel relation is not so much you laying claim to another country, you laying claim to your home country, or the difference between a Zionist and an anti Zionist and Zionist would be like, Israel is the country that Jewish people claim, whereas an anti Zionist Jewish person would say, no, this is what we are of the diaspora. What we have in common is with other people who have been exiled and ejected from their homeland. And I think as Asian Americans, we can't just think about belonging and acceptance. We need that first. That is the first step. But the second step is to find, then, an affinity allegiance with everyone else who have been ejected from their country of origin, and who are being threatened to be ejected from this country.  

Stephanie: Cathy, I'm curious about, no doubt, this is the time to fight. And I wonder if, you know, in your work with students, knowing what we are presented with right now in terms of our socio-cultural, political context, how do you, how do we think about joy? Or how do we think about collective versus individual?  

Cathy: I think joy is absolutely essential. I mean, I think, you know, I think about the, maybe like the effective condition now, at least from what I, I mean, my students, like on the surface seem to be doing fine. You know, they seem to be like, they're hardworking, they're, you know, and I don't pry into their private life. So I don't like, I'm not like, so Timmy, what's really going on? Let's talk about, like, I don't get paid enough for that. So and nor, nor is it appropriate, I think. So I don't really know what's going on in their inner life, exactly. But at least among the grad students I talked to in the, you know, a little bit, there is still, I think, there is fear, you know, I think they feel fear, and they feel overwhelmed and exhausted and angry, but I think there's more anger, that's a kind of paralysis. And a lot of that fear also comes from job precarity, you know, there's just a lot of scarcity right now, right? Like, I just, I, you know, I think before COVID, before, I mean, like during COVID, but before Trump came into office again, when I used to do a lot of talks, I would say people would ask, what brings you hope, and I would say the younger generation. And I still do think that but like, you know, my reason was because I feel like the younger generation are just much more aware, they believe much more, they're, they understand the need for equity. And they are so empowered in a way that I never was in my 20s. And I really believe that, you know, I really believe that they're going to do the work. And I think that's unfair now, because they're going through, they're just going through so much, they've been through so much. And what they're now facing is economic precarity on top of if you're someone who is, say, you know, come from an immigrant family, or you're, you know, if you're someone of color, you know, there's also the fear of you being a resident and being able to stay here. And so it's a different, more urgent idea of belonging, like, you know, belonging is essential. It's like belonging is, I need the documentation so I can remain in this country, you know. So that really, so at least in Berkeley, there's a lot less, there is, there were like, after the encampments, you know, after, and there's also the chilling effect of, of universities cracking down on freedom of speech. So there's less protest, I think less visible protests, I think it's happening locally, maybe with local communities and so forth. And there's just a lot of pressure. And I think that it's, it's important to figure out and to understand and together how we can, you know, change that kind of fear and exhaustion and numbness from doom scrolling and being overwhelmed by the 24 hour cyclone of bad news to, to action, you know, and part of that action, action through and to kind of transform into active rage and joy, right? And joy is like, you know, doesn't mean… I'm very cynical, you know, about this country. I've always has, have been and for me to pretend and say, Oh, it's gonna be great. You know, I'd be lying, you know, I always, but I don't, I still believe that there can be vitality within the crisis that we're in. And we have to kindle that vitality, that energy, that joy, and to use, there's so many examples of that, right? Like just in American history, this is what black writers, black artists, black people talk about, joy as a mode of subversion, joy as resistance that even and I, you know, when we, we’re not also in unprecedented times, you know, there are indigenous people and black people who have lived through slavery, and just, you know, just intense segregation. And all throughout, and then they managed to make incredible art, and protest and demonstrate with both rage and joy. And we have to figure out how to harness that it is much harder with the industry that is the, that is, that makes its home in San Francisco, distracting us from how we can be productively enraged and productively find joy, but we need to find that by making art, building communities, having parties, going off the grid, or all of that, you know, and I think that's, that's something we need to think about. Right?  

Stephanie: Yeah. In terms of when you wrote this book, to where we are now, when we talk about conversations about race, what feels different to you? And what still feels the same?  

Cathy: I mean, I talked about what feels different. And what feels the same. I think that like, what feels the same is, I mean, I think that just, it's just the system, the neoliberal, neoliberal white supremacy is exposed, has been completely unmasked. And so I think that is sort of similar, except it's, we're also find, you know, facing sort of the existential threat of climate change, and also, you know, higher education, and so forth. But I also think that there are, is, there is a lot of solidarity. And I think of examples, like what happened in Minnesota, and the mutual aid groups that were there, you know, I mean, there's, as I say that there needs to be more resistance. I mean, like, I think about all the Minnesotans who were fighting and that was like, that wasn't, that was multi ethnic. It was everyone, it was, you know, it was white, black. You know, Minnesota, Minneapolis has the biggest number of refugees, Hmong community, Somalians. I have a lot of friends who, in Minneapolis, who are poets of color, and they were very active in that, in that fight. And that was really, I thought that was very empowering to see that, you know, so that's one example. But I think it's also different. I mean, so much has changed, you know, even like, during COVID, and Black Lives Matter, like, there's been, people were more active, and on the streets, and protesting. There was a lot of movement in university campuses. But also, I think there were also a lot of internecine, a lot of conflict between people of color as well, where, you know, it was more silo sized, because of social media. But I do, but I think there's, it's hard to say, I think, right now, there's more interest in the fight abroad, and how it's connected locally, internationally and nationally.  

Stephanie: Yeah. I would love to kind of come back to what you were talking about, in terms of solidarity and finding kind of a connection across. And I think with a lot of minoritized groups, there is a lot of difficulty and continue grappling with anti-Blackness. What I'm just curious about, what are your musings and further exploration about that?  

Cathy: Yeah, I mean, I think, I mean, as I was saying before, that, you know, Asian Americans have to be aware that the civil rights, what Black people want, benefits, what Black people fight for, benefits Asian Americans. And you could say that for other groups. It's a different time. I would say it's a different time, even if you were to say like, four years ago, it's quite different. Everyone is scared.  

Stephanie: Yeah.

Cathy: You know, it's not, I think the way we, racial groups were in conflict with Asian anti-Blackness in Asian American communities and all that during COVID times. It's just different now. Because we're all in danger. And this is why I keep emphasizing, and I'm sure all of you already think this, is like, how do we build a movement that is not just pan-ethnic or pan-racial, but really think about one that intersects class and race, you know, and that is essential and thinking about how we unify Black, Asian, Latino, Indigenous solidarity, is through class. And that may mean some disaggregation. Because there are a lot of Asian Americans who are, who do come from upper income, who are just interested in that sort of neoliberal ethos of getting ahead. And who are, don't, and it's a, you know, the immigrant ethos is that, the immigrant ethos can be like the neoliberal ethos, where it's like, as long as I keep my head down, and get ahead, and not care about other people who look different from me, like Black people, or Latinos or whatever, then I will succeed. And so it's about sort of trying to convince them that this fight is everyone's fight.  

Stephanie: Yeah. If one group of people can't be free, then we all can't be free. It's a revision of a very famous quote. Cathy, for people in the audience who may be grappling with their own minor feelings, what would you want them to hold on to?  

Cathy: Care, don't be so hard on yourself. Look to others for community. Forgiveness, I think is very important. Even if you're not at fault of what you think you're at fault for. You have to forgive, you have to forgive yourself. And, you know, find friendships, who, people who you trust and who accept you for who you are, and then expand that circle of friendship to others. You know, yeah.

Stephanie: Yeah. It almost sounds like isolation is not the answer.  

Cathy: Well, I'm an introvert.  

Stephanie: So am I.  

Cathy: I love, I love spending a lot of time by myself. But it's important. I think it's like one thing is that, what I've noticed is that living here in the Bay Area is that everyone is so happy. At least in Berkeley, or they give off the vibe of happiness, which baffles me. You know, they're always smiling and saying, Hi, how's your day? And, but I live in Berkeley. I know it may be different than San Francisco, where, you know, but in Berkeley, you know, people can happily talk about gardening all day. And, and as a, as someone as like a, as a whiny New Yorker, I find it really hard to sort of wrap my head around. And I think, you know, I, it's, it's, for me, it's kind of hard being here, because it's like, you know, I feel like my anger is not seen, you know, and I don't know why. Like, when I go back to New York, or even LA, people are ranting, right? They're just ranting. You go out, the first night go out to dinner with friends are like ranting, you know, just about how this world sucks. Not here, you know, and I think that's sort of that. And so, you know, I don't know if this is like a geographic issue, or if this is just people I hang out with. I think I, I am friends with like, a few people out, you know, I, you know, I don't go out, but I know people like, go, I still go out for an occasional drink with others and, and so forth. And I think it's like, there's maybe the sensibility from what I can detect, where people just like they, at least in the Bay Area, which is different from the East Coast is that you're like, you see it in the news all the time, it's on your feed all the time. So why do you have to talk about it too? And I find that really weird. And I just want, I think for me, like, I want my anger to be seen in others. And when I do, I feel so much better. And I guess that's a thing with someone who's having minor feelings, this would be my minor feelings now. Right? Like is to talk to others and just not be afraid to let your ugly emotion show. And to let into embrace it and not change the subject. And say, well, but, you know, there are these like, even if it's like, yes, like, there are solutions, like, why don't you join the local activist group or something like local blah, blah, blah, you know, like, just to actually just because I think there's a lot of people, also a lot of people who are scared and very angry, but they're not even, they're trying not to be. And, you know, just need, that needs to be recognized, you know, so I, again, I don't know if this is just the community that I happen to hang out with is or is because I live in Berkeley. But I do notice that how, it's more, more of that, I get more of that in California. And I think it's because yes, the weather is beautiful. That is a huge factor. But I grew up in LA. And I hated the weather in LA. I always felt, felt like the sun was like, gaslit my gloominess, you know? So I was really happy to move to the East Coast. Now I don't miss the winter. You know, but yeah.  

Stephanie: Cathy, thank you so much. Last words for our audience before we close.  

Cathy: I'm always bad with last words, because I feel like they're literally the last words I can say. I just say, I just want to thank everyone. Thank you so much for being here. Yeah.

Thank you for listening to the CIIS Public Programs Podcast. Our talks and conversations are presented live in San Francisco, California. We recognize that our university’s building in San Francisco occupies traditional, unceded Ramaytush Ohlone lands. If you are interested in learning more about native lands, languages, and territories, the website native-land.ca is a helpful resource for you to learn about and acknowledge the Indigenous land where you live.

Podcast production is supervised by Kirstin Van Cleef and hosted by Alex Elliott at CIIS. Audio production is supervised by Lyle Barrere at Desired Effect. CIIS Public Programs are produced by the Office of Events at California Institute of Integral Studies. If you liked what you heard, please subscribe wherever you find podcasts and connect with us on social media @ciispubprograms.

CIIS Public Programs commits to use our in-person and online platforms to uplift the stories and teachings of Black, Indigenous, and other people of color; those in the LGBTQIA+ community; and all those whose lives emerge from the intersections of multiple identities.