I was recently invited to participate in a panel presentation on issues pertaining to the interface of race, sex and sexual orientation. I enthusiastically accepted the invitation, and just as immediately had a more negative reaction.
I looked at the flyer announcing the upcoming presentation. The flyer was already in circulation and making the rounds even before I accepted the invitation to be one of the panelists. As delighted as I was to see that the panel would be composed of a diverse mix of gay- or lesbian-identified male and female participants of various ethnicities, I also could not help but notice that, at the time the flyer went into print, there was no Asian-American representation on the panel. My inclusion as the Asian-American representative quickly began to feel more like a last-minute afterthought.
I do not know the sequence of events that occurred and that led to my being included as a panelist only after the presentation flyer had already been distributed. So, I take full responsibility for the possibility that I may be filling in the blanks in ways that are grossly distorted. There may have been another Asian-American speaker who was slated to participate but who cancelled immediately before the flyer was sent for printing. There may have been a mix-up between event organizers and the printing department and the flyer went into print even before the full panel of participants was finalized.
Whatever the actual events were that transpired and that led to my being added to the group of panelists, and whether my reading of this particular incident was accurate or inaccurate, it did bring up past experiences in which Asian-Americans as an ethnic minority group were glaringly omitted.
Rewind to a number of years ago, when I was in graduate school. Diversity was all the rage, and all faculty members were being mandated to tack on a sentence or two about diversity at the end of each course that they taught. The teacher began his diversity lecture by talking about African-Americans. So far so good, I thought to myself. He then made a passing remark about the Latino population. "Keep going," I thought, mentally keeping my fingers crossed. Then, his lecture was over. He had already proceeded on to his next topic when I raised my hand and asked "What about Asian-Americans?"
What about Asian-Americans? As an ethnic minority group, we compose less than 5 percent of the United States population. We are not exactly the majority, but we happen to be one of the fastest-growing ethnic groups. Yet, we are not exactly at the forefront of the United States' collective consciousness.
Experientially, it seems to me that we are often silenced. I'm not sure exactly why, but I do have some thoughts on the matter. Because many of us traditionally come from cultures where we are taught to defer to authority and acquiesce to others, I wonder if this is interpreted as a sign of weakness or passivity. I also wonder if, because we were socialized to not bring attention to our individual selves and to instead give precedence to the collectivity, we contribute to receding ourselves into the background of invisibility. Whatever the reason or reasons, co-contributed by myself as well as by others, one possible outcome of this cross-cultural dynamic is that we may become silenced into losing our voice. Consequently, the challenge becomes to reclaim our voice and to make sure that what we have to say is give its due air time.
What does this have to do with mental-health issues and the LGBT community? Everything! Every time any of us are members of a minority group, whether it be membership because of our sex, gender, ethnicity or sexual orientation, we receive overt and covert messages that what we have to say, or who we are at our core, is less than and not as important. Consequently, we may internalize this devaluing message.
As a psychologist listening to my predominantly LGBT clients tell their stories often for the first time ever, I am humbled by the tremendous amount of healing that happens when one is able to open and honestly tell his or her story.
We have to not conspire in the silence and claim our voiceeven and especially when the odds are against us.
Dr. Edward Fajardo is a licensed clinical psychologist in independent private practice specializing in gay-affirmative therapy. He can be contacted at EJFajardo@aol.com or 312-623-0502.