How have you demonstrated leadership and commitment to serving your community?

A low-income and predominantly immigrant community, the once bustling streets of the newest emerging Chinatown are cleaner than ever. The spontaneity of Anti-Asian hate crimes and of course, the looming fear of contracting the virus barred people behind their doors. The pandemic shifted calligraphy classes and plant exchanges to WeChat group chats and Zoom meetings. Though the scenes had faded from the street, the growing sense of unity and perseverance are stronger than ever. But can the rage and hope move from the WeChat groups and dinner tables to bring real changes?
Posters are stacked neatly on the table, and goodie bags of masks and hand sanitizer are organized in cartoon boxes; our small blue tent was a pop of color on the dull streets. Blazing sun over our heads, we took shelter inside a tent with the big and bold words printed on it: Census 2020. Small street vendors are scattered on the sides of the street, colorful food stands with stacks of dragonfruit and foam boxes with live shrimps, and hawker’s cries pierce through the empty streets. Eighth Avenue has just started waking up from COVID-19 which has put it to sleep.

“Mandarin, Fujuanese, Cantonese?” I asked as I tried to hand the flyers to those walking by. Merely a few stopped, and some only momentarily for the goodie bags. “Did I not encuate my characters?” “Was my American accent too strong for them to understand?” These questions flashed through my head as more and more people passed by without taking a glance. But I soon realized that it wasn’t that I was blurring my characters, it wasn’t that I was speaking too low, it was the fear of opening up to a random stranger in a country that has shut them off for generations. From the Chinese Exclusion Act to the surge of Asian Hate Crimes, voices of advocation grew stronger- but only within ourselves.

Time, I told myself, is all that we need. Time to hear, time to talk, time to gossip, and time to learn. That summer, our blue tent became a stable presence on the street. With bigger smiles and mics on our hands, it was only a matter of time before people began to line up outside our tents. Giving them time to understand the purpose of census gave me time as well to learn through the experiences of the individuals that make up the community I call home. I gave myself time to hear their struggles, to learn their obstacles, and time to accept that we all need time to grow- in and out. Most important of all, their participation in Census2020 will bring their hopes and dreams outside of their WeChat group chats and dinner tables.

As air conditioners are turned onto full blasts and neighborhood blocks turned into amusement parks, streets become dirty again and the smell of seafood lingers through the night. The end of summer marks a milestone of more than 5000 families reached in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. Our voices and efforts were reflected when the new District 17, including Sunset Park, Bensonhurst, and Gravesend, was carved out as one of the first majority Asian-American senate districts in Brooklyn with over 50% Asian-American.

The blue tent slowly disappeared from the streets and I began my new journey with a more specific goal. I want to talk, hear, and learn. My new journey started in the office of Senator Iwen Chu, the senator for the newly drawn District 17, as an outreach specialist. Through calls and overdoors, I talked, heard, and learned. I helped tackle issues ranging from gathering resources for ESL students, finding temporary housing for families impacted by fire, and issuing handicapped permits for a man with Alzheimer's. After all my community is not just a low-income and predominantly immigrant community, it's a community of fighters, and problem solvers with their own tales to tell and lessons to learn from. I can’t wait to talk, hear, and learn more from them.