Called by a different name

California Constitution Article XIX (1879):

SECTION 1. The Legislature shall prescribe all necessary regulations for the protection of the State, and the counties, cities, and towns thereof, from the burdens and evils arising from the presence of aliens who are or may become vagrants, paupers, mendicants, criminals, or invalids [...] and from aliens otherwise dangerous or detrimental to the well-being or peace of the State...

SECTION 2. No corporations now existing or hereafter formed under the laws of this State, shall, after the adoption of this Constitution, employ directly or indirectly, in any capacity, any Chinese or Mongolian.

SECTION 3. No Chinese shall be employed on any State, country, municipal, or other publi work, except in punishment for crime.

SECTION 4. The presence of foreigners ineligible to become citizens of the United States is declared to be dangerous to the well-being of the State, and the Legislature shall discourage their immigration by all the means within its power.

We were sitting in a roundtable formation, in a group of about 15 or so, talking about essays and craft and pedagogy. We were a small class and I wasn't too brave about speaking up. That is, until the professor turned to me and asked me how to pronounce the name of this particular writer we were discussing. I don't remember what the name was but I remember thinking it was something very Swedish looking, which made it quite impossible for me to even guess what the name sounded like (even IF I summoned enough courage to speak). But, what really made me tongue-tied was not the fact it was neither in Vietnamese nor in English, but because I was completely astounded by the professor's request. She thought that since my name is also "foreign" perhaps I might know how to pronounce the name.

I think that as a word, "foreigners" is so quickly defined, redefined, and applied then re-applied that we too easily become inured to who and how we label "foreign". Within a group of my peers, in a group with which I felt comfortable enough to blend in (already beginning to sound problematic, yes?), I was set apart simply by the use of the term. I don't believe there are any malicious motivations behind much of our common usage of the word, and that is probably where our problem lies.

And when such terminology is used, it becomes too easy to fall prey to certain fears that lead to the exclusion, isolation, and ostracizing of certain groups. Which of course leads to other more dangerous desires?

Today, our church celebrated its 120th anniversary. 120 years in the heart of Oakland Chinatown. 120 years as a major community center. 120 years of faith narratives. 120 years of cultural heritage. An entire community of peoples who began their lives as an immigrants of one sort or another. This is a community built upon historical narratives embedded with cultural, political, social, economic, and religious marginalization. As the church continues to grow, it carries these loaded histories onward for the future generations. I know how difficult it is to live in the past, but it is one of the most fascinating aspects of living in this present church community.

In preparation for the 120th, we did a lot of digging. In our research into the histories of the church, we re-encountered the atrocious Chinese Exclusion Acts. Sadly, the texts of these old pieces of legislation are not that different from what we are hearing and seeing today. What we have now don't necessarily isolate the Chinese, but there are also a lot of other groups being excluded, isolated, marginalized, terrorized. We call them by a different name.

Back in the late 1800s, California "led the way in anti-Chinese nativism." It even became a partisan political issue. In the face of current events and in light of our advancements, I sincerely hope that Californians will continue upholding the title of "first" and "leader" by exemplifying how we should respect and value all human life as well as foster dialogue in global community.