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Anti-Asian attacks are an emotional toll

In my life or my dad, anti-Asian violence and psychological emotional toll horror are novel.

It was a lovely Sunday day when my elderly father and I were walked to Ocean Beach in San Francisco by emotional toll white men. He raised his arms and began to scream at us.

I was thinking, “Oh no.” emotional toll “He’ll attempt to shove my dad.” For the arm of my dad, I reached out. My dad is 88 years old and is handicapped because of spinal stenosis and childhood polio. To walk, he requires two dogs.

I attempted to get my father back into the car. But the white man followed us, yelling. “Yes! Lift these legs! Lift these legs! You move better already!” He screamed at me, “Do you comprehend?”

Even though the beach had others, none were in earshot that day. Nobody observed that we approached this crazy white dude. Nobody came here to help us.

Thankfully, we returned it to our car, and I could safely drive away.

But my father was stirred by the occurrence. He started suffering from panic attacks and nightmares. Once, I had to take him to an EKG hospital because he believed he had a heart attack. It proved to be a panic, and a low-dose medicine for his doctor was given. However, one of the adverse effects is somnolence – never pleasant for the elderly.

I learned to internalize the other thing as guilt, as if we had not hard enough, seriously enough, and rigorous sufficient of our confidence. As though by simply existing, we have done something wrong.

This episode made me furious because I understood that my dad’s protection would have been impossible for me if that man had attempted to hurt him physically. He was a large, huge, powerful, rapidly capable man. My dad is a fragile cancer survivor and an open-heart operator. A former refugee with 12 years of conflict in his youth. When he was four, during the Japanese invasion of China, he and his family had to escape their hometown of Nanjing.

As a youngster, his family suffered hunger as they fled throughout the nation and tried to keep a step ahead of the invading army.

His senior years, he thought, would be serene.

I think of the Asian elderly who have been violently attacked or killed, or seriously hurt by younger, muscular males. For example, Vicha Ratanapakdee (84 years old) in San Francisco and Pak Ho (75 years old) in Oakland had been slain at home. The 65-year-old in New York, Vilma Kari, was hit by safety cameras as surrounding guards were watching and doing nothing and yelling, “You don’t belong here.”

And I’m holding a personal alarm, short air horns, and pepper sprays when I accompany my dad for a walk. We’re no longer walking on the beach. Too lonely. Too windy. – Too windy. Too tricky for others to determine what is going on until perhaps too late.

The anti-Asian prejudice is nothing new. In the U.S., attacks against Asians have been reported ranging from mass violence, mass lynching to legislative hate, prohibiting Chinese immigrants from becoming naturalized Americans until 1943 and other Asians until 1952.

In my life or my dad, anti-Asian violence and psychological emotional toll horror are novel.

At twelve, my family relocated to a little farm in South Dakota near Vermillion. I initially observed the police profiling the indigenous people and the reverse when white people committed crimes. When he went into the shops or drove his truck downtown, my brother was profiled.

White males drove five of our dogs in our house emotional toll throughout the years to shoot and leave their dead at the end of the driveway to locate us. We told the sheriff’s department about their deaths. They haven’t researched.

What I question is what these capable individuals would need to feel guilt for their hatred behind these attacks?

Prittle Prattle News has curated this article.

By Reporter.

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