Whitewash: The story of Asian American history
<p>December 7th was my least favorite day throughout elementary school.</p>
<p>Every year on that day, an intercom announcement would blast through the classrooms to owe remembrance to the attack on Pearl Harbor. Every year, I would sit in my seat and pray for the moment to pass. My sister and I were the only Japanese students in our school district, and I single-handedly carried the feelings of guilt, embarrassment, and shame at the mention of my home country. Back then, I didn’t quite understand where those feelings came from, but my discomfort showed through flushed cheeks and sweaty palms.</p>
<p>“Stop looking at me. I wasn’t even alive back then…” I would think to myself while dodging the side-eyed glances of my classmates. They probably didn’t mean to make me feel bad, but the isolation of carrying these struggles on my own dented my self-worth anyway.</p>
<p><a href="https://medium.com/age-of-awareness/whitewash-the-story-of-asian-american-history-2550e236a5ef"><strong>Read More</strong></a></p>