Racial Trauma for Asian American Communities: how did we come to this?
Racial Trauma or race-based traumatic stress (RBTS) is when people of color experience mental, emotional and physical injury due to racism, racial biases, discrimination, and hate crimes due to their race and/or their immigration status (Mental Health America, 2022).
Racial trauma has been studied numerous times in the context of Black and Brown Americans, and it has been largely ignored in the context of APIDA people (Asian Pacific Islander Desi American) until the coronavirus created a global health crisis.
After 7 years of being in the field as a relationship therapist, I have heard from many clients about the racial traumas that they have experienced firsthand. The experiences are anywhere from being fetishized by their own partners to eating their lunch in a bathroom stall during their formative years due to bullying to getting physically and verbally attacked during the pandemic.
All these experiences of violence have been silenced by our own APIDA community and our own mothers and fathers. Asian Americans have learned to silence our voices as a part of our immigrant experience — as a part of the perpetual foreigner syndrome. “We are allowed to come to this country as guests so we should not stir up any troubles,” so we have been told by our parents and grandparents who came before us.
In many ways, the silence the AAPI community has endured has given us a place in our society and a privilege we cannot ignore, but it also has erased our voice in nearly every arena. The white supremacists use Asian Americans as an excuse to ignore the structural racism and oppression that black and brown people experience to this day.
The kind of violence that the AAPI community has experienced throughout the pandemic broke the silence and opened our eyes to how pervasive racism and racial traumas are in the AAPI communities. The amount of Asian American adult clients who come to therapy due to experiencing racial traumas has increased exponentially throughout the pandemic.
How do the symptoms of racial traumas show up in the AAPI communities?
Hopelessness
You start to feel hopeless about your place at your workplace or perhaps in your interracial relationship in which you feel repeatedly silenced and invalidated regarding your experience of racial trauma.
Silencing Own Voice & Comparing Pain
Many young Asian American individuals who are aware of racial trauma in other BIPOC communities often ignore and silence their own voices regarding racial trauma. I cannot count how many times I have heard, “We don’t have it that bad compared to black and brown folx.” We are not in a racial trauma contest where we must choose who has gone through more pain. You can simultaneously acknowledge your own pain and advocate for other people’s experiences of pain.
Confusion + Emotional Labor through Their Own Grief
When the Atlanta shootings that targeted Asian American women happened in 2021, many Asian American adults felt confused and did not know how to talk to their parents about the violence and racist attacks that the AAPI communities have been and still are going through. Many young AAPI adults had to learn how to educate and comfort the older generation whilst going through their own grief and pain.
Relationship Issues + Relational Rupture
After the Atlanta shootings, many AAPI women wrote on social media about their experiences of being in interracial relationships where they felt fetishized and silenced by their White partners who did not know how to support their Asian partners. This new realization in the community brought about many relational ruptures, especially for many interracial relationships.
How do we process racial trauma and seek support?
How do we process racial trauma and seek support?
Since the beginning of the pandemic, many Asian American individuals have found themselves having to help the older generations make sense of violence against the AAPI community amidst their own grief of losing people they love to racist violence. Grief is one of the essential parts of the AAPI experiences of racial trauma. Racial trauma comes in many forms, and so does the grief that comes with it.
First, acknowledge that grief comes from the loss of something or someone that was once dear to us. As a result of experiencing individual or collective racial trauma, what did you lose? The loss may not always be obvious. Did you lose human dignity? Did you lose the sense of safety and sense of normalcy? Did you lose relationships because of the politicization of our experiences? Did you lose someone you loved because of the senseless violence? Whatever comes to your mind, jot them down without judging yourself for the thoughts that come to you.
1. Grieve the Loss
Grief is a complex emotion, and it doesn’t follow a set timeline. It may look different for every person, and it can be hard to pinpoint when it first began. For some, the grief is felt immediately after an act of racial violence; for others, it’s something that builds over time, the accumulation of microaggressions, hate crimes, and systemic injustices. Take time to sit with your grief and honor it. Don’t try to rush through it or push it down. Recognize that it’s valid to grieve the losses, whether it’s the trauma of witnessing violent acts against your community or the deeper, personal losses of safety and trust.
2. Seek Support from Those Who Understand
Processing racial trauma doesn’t mean doing it alone. You don’t have to carry the weight of these experiences in isolation. Look for support networks where you feel safe and heard. This could be therapy with someone who understands the intersection of race and trauma, or it could be leaning on your chosen family—friends or mentors who share your experiences and offer empathy. Community is powerful when healing from racial trauma. It’s important to connect with others who understand your unique struggles and experiences, as well as to find solidarity with other communities of color who are working through their own pain.
If you’re able, try to connect with therapists who specialize in racial trauma or trauma-informed care, particularly those who understand the nuances of being AAPI. Sometimes, it helps to talk to someone who can guide you through the pain without minimizing your experience.
3. Prioritize Self-Care and Boundaries
Healing from racial trauma often means learning to take care of yourself in ways that are culturally meaningful and personally fulfilling. Self-care isn’t just about bubble baths and relaxation; it’s about protecting your peace and wellbeing. What do you need to feel grounded, centered, and safe? For some, it may involve spending time with family, engaging in cultural practices, or finding comfort in shared rituals. For others, it might mean stepping back from social media to avoid re-triggering traumatic events or to reclaim space from the emotional labor of educating others.
Set clear boundaries around how much emotional energy you are willing to give—especially when it comes to educating others about your trauma. It is not your responsibility to explain your pain to others, especially if it feels harmful or exhausting. And remember, healing doesn’t have to look the same for everyone. Honor your own needs and let yourself take breaks.
4. Advocate for Change
It’s also important to acknowledge that healing involves more than just individual work—it involves collective action. If you are able and it feels safe, advocating for change is a powerful way to heal and to ensure that the next generation of AAPI individuals doesn’t have to carry the same trauma. You can raise awareness, call for policy changes, or support organizations that are working to end racism and violence against AAPI communities. This could involve joining protests, speaking out against harmful legislation, or supporting businesses and organizations led by AAPI individuals. Activism can be a form of healing, giving you a sense of agency and a pathway to transform pain into action.
5. Honor Your Intersectionality
Finally, honor the intersection of your identities. As a queer AAPI person, you are likely navigating not just racial trauma but the complexity of intersectionality—how your sexuality or gender identity complicates the way you experience racism, homophobia, or transphobia. This intersection can bring additional layers of pain, but it can also bring strength. Find ways to embrace the fullness of who you are and recognize that healing can look different at these intersections. Speak out against all forms of injustice, because your voice is needed in every space where oppression exists.
Conclusion: The Power of Your Voice
Racial trauma is real. It’s a multi-layered, ongoing experience that affects not just individuals, but entire communities. For too long, the AAPI community’s racial trauma has been dismissed or ignored. But the events of the pandemic, the violence, and the recognition of our struggles have finally brought much-needed attention to this issue. As AAPI individuals, we can no longer afford to silence our pain. Our voices are crucial in the fight against racism and violence.
Remember, your pain is valid. Your grief is real. And the trauma you have experienced does not define you. You are resilient, and you deserve to heal. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting—it means finding ways to move forward with compassion, strength, and the courage to continue to speak your truth.
Together, we can break the silence, heal from our wounds, and create a future where all members of the AAPI community can live with dignity, pride, and freedom from violence.
Love,
Wonbin