During October 2017, my Facebook news feed was flooding with posts that said, “If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote 'Me too' as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.” The sheer number of these posts, didn’t surprise me. It actually felt quite normal to go into a class on Monday and hear someone recount her woes of unwanted advances from a weekend outing. But then it hit me: This shouldn’t be normal. While I had always met such stories with outrage on behalf of my friends, it didn’t quite dawn on me how heartbreaking it actually was that everyone I know, or will ever meet, has had to deal with this shit to the point that we instinctively brush it off, especially if no lasting bodily harm was inflicted. I wanted to spread awareness but as I went to share, I paused. I tried looking at my life and asked myself: Can I say “Me Too”? Have I experienced anything like these women did?

After some reflection, and a serious talk with my best friend, I came to realize that I too had fallen victim to minimizing my experiences, blaming myself for any fear or discomfort I felt in the past. And so the first words of the poem were discovered:

No matter how many times, once is already one too many.
No matter who it was, they had no right to your body.
No matter how severe, our sense of fear, discomfort, etc., it was, is valid.
It was not our fault.
It was not our choices, it was theirs.

This was the first verse I wrote and posted on FB in solidarity, and in the next 20 minutes, the rest of the piece followed - it was the fastest poem I’ve ever written. It begins with an actual quote I had a male friend once say to me: “It’s silly to be scared to walk alone in the dark.” He didn’t understand when I tried to explain to him why I never went “night exploring,” like he has. This same friend went on to tell me that “At least you’re fine now” after I dealt with a rather aggressive exchange with a stranger on the way to meet some friends at a club, where a man had offered me a hand to help me through a crowd, but once I was through, wouldn’t let go. I go on to recount at least two other instances of harassment that had happened to me personally, one taking place even when I was only 12 years old, along with all the excuses that I gave them or the blame that others put upon me for their actions.

Throughout the rest of the poem, I really try to drive home the point that all of these terrible acts are NOT our fault. It doesn’t matter what age you are. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, or where you were standing. I used examples of stories I had read about on the news:

“Tell that to the girls who just want to have fun, but instead found herself in a hospital because you couldn’t be bothered to teach her son”

In these lines I was referring to the Brock Turner case in 2016. I want people to realize that the root of the problem will never lay with the victim but rather the perpetrator. And in the very last line I switched from ‘tell him’ to ‘tell them’ as a subtle nod to acknowledge that this kind of thing happens to men too.

I remember practicing this piece in front of my parents before my first performance. My mother was moved by my words, telling me that she could really feel the emotions when I spoke. My dad, wondered why it was so loud... He brought up that perhaps this piece was too alienating; the men would feel like I’m calling them out. My response: I’m only calling out those who need to be called out. My father means well; he simply doesn’t want me to reap negative repercussions for being “aggressive” with my message. But the very fact that he felt the need to protect me is the very reason I felt the need to say it.

The first time I performed this piece in front of an audience, I remember the room being so silent. I could feel everyone’s stares and occasionally I saw people looking down to the ground with thoughtful expressions. While I am not a mind reader, I hoped that my message reached those who needed to hear it.

In the end, I received a lot of positive feedback after the performance, people telling me that they really needed to hear my words, and how Asian-Americans needed to hear it too. To be honest, I wasn’t thinking about how this issue intersected with my Asian-American heritage when I first wrote it. I went into it viewing it as a plight that united all women. I saw it as a human issue. With this being said, however, I understand the intersectionality of the issue, and know that Asian-Americans face their own specific struggles in addressing this topic. We have difficulty discussing emotions. We don’t share our problems because we want to “save face.” We have histories and traditions rooted in misogyny. But we are more equipped now to tackle these challenges than ever before. We just have to be willing to speak up first.

To survivors: know that you are not alone, that you are heard, and believed.
To those who are in the position to do so: go on to teach others to see women as equals.

Transcript for “Me Too”

He said:
“It’s silly to be scared to walk alone in the dark”
“How could a monster be real if he doesn’t leave a mark”
“Oh those, they’re so light, I’m sure you’ll be fine”
Yeah maybe so but the pain is still mine
I shouldn’t have to show you screaming red scars for you to believe me

His grip was on my heart that’s still beating out of my chest
My hands are still shaking, as I take the time to process
But you say it again, you’re fine
Repeat something enough and it becomes more than just a line
It’s mental state of being where you become untouchable
Push any memory to the back so it’s unreachable
If anyone ever ask if it happened to you,
You won’t be sure if you can say, me too.

It’s only happened maybe 3 times so I guess I’m suppose to be lucky
He’s my friend, so he was only messing around no need to get judgey
He only touched my hand, my hair, my ass - it’s really not that bad
He only got so far so I guess I should be glad
I shouldn’t have taken his hand, I should’ve chose a different place to stand
Did I do anything to lead him on, I guess the alcohol was just too strong
Stop! Making up excuses, keep that up and we’ll never know what abuse is

No matter how many times, once is already one too many.
No matter who it was, they had no right to your body.
No matter how severe, our sense of fear, discomfort, etc., it was, is valid.
It was not our fault.
It was not our choices, it was theirs.

We live in a society that makes us shift the blame
Tell you you’re too plain for this to have happened to you
You’re too hot so of course it happened to you
Either way it’s happening and you want me to believe it’s normal
What can be normal about stripping someone of their pride
Maybe from a different time, but this is the twenty first century
Look at all these stories, does it not make your heart bleed
But hey at least I have my keys right?
And you're constantly telling me not to go out at night
But don't forget the dangers in broad daylight
All our lives we've listened to your advice
When all you had to do was

Listen, rather think about what you want to say next
Listen, rather than telling me what’s best
is to take up as little space as possible.
Well tell that to the little girl who was just playing with her uncle
Tell that to the woman who was wearing a parka thinking the only thing she had to fight off was the cold
Tell that to the girls who just want to have fun, but instead found herself in a hospital because you couldn’t be bothered to teach her son

Don’t tell me I should have waited inside
Don’t tell me I should know better because of my size
Tell him, he should have minded his own business
Tell him, he has no right to my kisses
Tell him when I ask for distance I mean it
I’m not playing hard to get, no does not mean yes
I’m not blowing this out of proportion, you’re minimizing what is important
Tell him -
Tell them: we are people too.