Invisible and Silent No More

By Amy So Washington

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hat does it look like for AAPI Christians to be allies in the pursuit of justice?

To help answer this, the Reclaim editorial team is sharing conversations with AAPI Christians who are living out a commitment to justice in their local church and Christian spaces. We hope that these conversations will empower, encourage, and inspire you to (re)imagine and (re)engage people in your spheres of influence as we live out our calls to justice beyond our phones and keyboards. 

To kick off this series, we talked with Amy So Washington from Chicago.

When did you decide that you needed to speak up and be an advocate and activist about social justice and racism in your church?

When the anti-Asian attacks began in early 2020 and then George Floyd was killed, I realized that there was so much loss and grief I had ignored for decades. My reflexive strategy of “handling” this had been through rage (getting into fights and mouthing off) or just absorbing it into my body through silence, shame, and bitterness. This turned my blood into molten lava that hurt me and others when it erupted.  

I see now that the rage and “lava” really was covering up years of deep grief and hurt from feeling erased and erasing myself. So I started to pay more attention and realized that I didn’t want to keep handling things the same way. I started asking God for help with this, as well as regularly lashing out at God too, but the lashing out is nothing new. 

What were some of the first things you did when you started speaking out? 

I started talking to close friends of color about my grief, sadness, regret, and shame, for not standing up for myself or others, about anti-blackness, white supremacy, white privilege, and racism. I sought safe spaces where other people of color could feel and share authentically and cry out in anger, pain, and sadness. I participated in affinity groups; I read books (Healing Racial Trauma by Sheila Wise Roe, My Grandmother’s Hands by Resmaa Menakem, Minor Feelings by Cathy Park Hong, A Rhythm of Prayer by Sarah Bessey, The Color of Compromise by Jemar Tisby, to name a few); articles like the ones on Reclaim; and listened to podcasts discussing these issues. A really good therapist helps, too, which I am grateful to have. 

How did the pandemic affect how you spoke up in your church? 

When the pandemic hit, our church decided to split our congregation into pods, or “Mission Friend Groups,” as we call them, rather than doing an online church service. In my group, where my husband and I are leaders, I asked them if they would like to talk more intentionally and deeply about race and racism, and they did. That desire came more out of my own participation in various affinity groups and conferences and wanting my friends to join me on this journey—not because I felt like they needed to hear from an Asian American. 

I remember leading our first meeting, and was so shocked at how emotional I felt. I realized that I had never really shared with white people from my heart about racism. Sure, we talked about the topic of racism and I could share experiences and about my anger, but I never shared the grief or loss, and all of sudden I didn’t feel safe—not necessarily because of them, but because of “Whiteness.” I felt too vulnerable. I told them I didn’t really know what was happening but that I didn’t think I could or should be the one leading. I wasn’t even sure if I could be in the group. This was a very significant moment of realization for me. We were able to navigate that together and I stayed in the group. But it was a light bulb moment of me realizing and responding to my sadness instead of dismissing it as I had before.

As you moved into greater leadership roles in your church, how did that both challenge you and draw you closer to God and others in your church? 

When I was asked to be the new chair of our church council, that opened up a flood of feelings and questions. My journey into my ethnic identity was at the forefront of my mind and it was still pretty raw. Would the church be ok with that? What if I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to handle this right now? Did I really think I had a voice? Did my voice really matter? 

I was encouraged and supported by family and friends, but ultimately, I sensed God saying my voice did matter to God, and really, it’s not about me, but it’s about what God is already doing. God is used to working with broken, messy, unfinished people anyway, so I’m nothing new. 

I also have to say that I knew going into this position that I would appreciate working with our pastor. She isn’t one to shy away from controversial topics. Even though she has strong opinions and convictions, she is very humble and willing to learn and grow. We’re all learning and growing together and I am grateful to be in a church where many are willing to do the same. 

In what ways do your Asian identity and personhood enable you to speak up? 

I have always felt that being Asian has helped bring a different perspective and experience to the table. As I’ve gotten older, I have greater appreciation of my parents’ stories and life journey. It’s like I’m finally starting to see and hear them, and learning to hold both the wonderful and painful realities of our stories and culture, instead of going to either extremes of only seeing it as all good or all bad. 

Their experiences have always impacted my sister and me whether we realized it or not. Recognizing the interwovenness of my story enables me now to see that in other people and their stories and journeys. When you recognize that others have a story too, it’s a lot harder to dismiss their humanity. 

There are also Asian tendencies or “values” that can hold us back. What are some ideas you’ve had to unlearn as you have engaged in this type of justice work and advocacy? 

I definitely needed to unlearn that kindness equals being nice or polite. I find this very difficult as an Asian where I believe these qualities are really meant to make the other person feel comfortable. One of my favorite verses is Romans 2:4 about God’s kindness leading us to repent and turn away from sin or a radical life change (depending on the version). That’s intense! Like what Sarah Lam said in the panel about “Holy Discomfort,”  kindness is not about comfort or conflict avoidance or erasing one self, but about transformation and dignity and authenticity and ultimately about reflecting God’s love, for me and others. 

We are often surprised when others do not understand or cannot even imagine our encounters with racism, or the lived experiences of our Black brothers and sisters. How can our shared commitment to the Gospel and God build the connection and bridges we need to overcome the lack of shared perspectives and experiences?

There have been many times where my experience of racism or discrimination have been dismissed, blame-shifted, or minimized by others; I’ve done that to myself as well. I think that’s one strategy of coping when ugly, evil, things happen—denial. There’s so much we don’t understand or relate with about each other regarding race (and many other things), but I think the gospel and God builds bridges and heals beyond what’s humanly possible. 

I was on a walk one day just ranting to God about how I don’t want to forgive and how angry, bitter, and tired I was. I just didn’t want to care or hope. All of a sudden, I saw an image of Jesus on the cross and he said, “I understand pain and hurt and betrayal, and I forgave. I see your hurt and hopelessness, and it’s ok that you’re not there yet. It’s ok where you’re at. I’m ok with where you’re at.” 

I felt convicted that Jesus would cover for me when I didn’t have anything left. Not that all of a sudden I had this transformation and change of heart, but I felt like I had room to be, and that this was not the end of my story. This has helped me to let others be because their story isn’t over either—Jesus is still working in their lives as well! 

Thank you so much for your faithfulness and willingness to share your experiences with us! As we close today, what are some words of encouragement you want to share with other AAPI Christians who may feel intimidated about speaking up but want to be allies in the pursuit of racial justice? 

I believe that we need to make sure all are seen and heard. How can we do that more with our brothers and sisters of color? We need to ask about their story, step out of our comfort zone, and be open to other ways of seeing or doing. Don’t insist that my way is the only right way. Acknowledge their pain and experience and successes. And stand up for them in your circles where they may be disparaged or ignored.   

And personally, it’s important that we are ok with not arriving yet. Be ok with not having a polished script. Be ok with having to go back again and again to learn and grow and repair. Be ready to own up to your mistakes and apologize. 

But stay at the table, stay engaged in the way that you can. And remember it’s not just about you. We are all part of something bigger, and any part that we play to stand up for God’s justice and kingdom will not be in vain!

Photo by Karolina Grabowska from Pexels

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Amy So Washington was born in Hong Kong, grew up in the CA Bay Area, and am now living in Chicago. I work for Chicago Public Schools and am the council chair at Grace Evangelical Covenant Church in Chicago. I enjoy time with family and friends, hiking, the ocean, and carbs. Would love to hear your story, or any favorite hiking trails or recipes at soamyn2020@gmail.com