Beth Huang’s Vision of Civic Engagement

BY BENJY B. WALL-FENG

When Michelle Wu became the first woman and first person of color elected mayor of Boston last November, she was one of a number of politicians from marginalized backgrounds becoming “firsts’”within Massachusetts. 2021 also saw the election of Thu Nguyen, the first nonbinary city council member in Massachusetts, and Joshua Garcia, the first Latino mayor of Holyoke. Efforts by grassroots redistricting groups succeeded in doubling the number of majority-minority State Senate districts from three to six out of 40.

Beth Huang, the executive director of Massachusetts Voter Table, says these changes are both necessary and overdue.

Massachusetts Voter Table is a coalition of organizations focused on civic engagement and voter participation among working- class voters and people of color. In the past decade it has been involved in many efforts to achieve these ends: Before last year’s redistricting push, for instance, a 2014 initiative gave employees of large employers up to five days of paid sick time per year. In 2018, Massachusetts established a $15 hourly minimum wage.

But for Boston, a city with a deep history of both immigration and racist policies such as redlining, these advancements in labor have come in tandem with other, harmful trends. Foremost among them is a surge in gentrification and the resulting displacement of poorer communities, many of them Black, Latino, or Asian, from Boston to “gateway cities” outside it. In fact, Boston was the fourth most intensely gentrified city in the U.S. from 2013 to 2017, according to a 2020 report by the National Community Reinvestment Coalition.

“First the people move, then the services move,” Huang says. “But political power is often the last thing to move with them.” People who are forced out of areas where they have built community and connections may find it difficult to lay down roots in a new location, where they may not know their city councilors or state representatives or school board members, she warns

“Racial capitalism, right?” she says. “The main thing is that there’s this cycle of, ‘My elected officials don’t respond to my community and don’t respond to my needs.’” This disillusionment decreases voter participation, she says, which in turn causes elected officials to view the community in question as unimportant to their role.

Much of the ground-level work undertaken by Massachusetts Voter Table and like-minded organizations entails talking to these voters. They also work with community groups like True Alliance Center, a Mattapan nonprofit which focuses on outreach to Haitian Creole speakers,and they offer training to local leaders. According to a report on Massachusetts Voter Table’s website, voters who the organizations’ leaders spoke to in 2021 were six percent more likely to vote than a control group. That number reflects an increase of about 30,000 people.

The drive to increase political power in minority communities is inexorably linked to efforts to bolster workers’ rights. “Essential workers” nationwide are more likely to be people of color, a disparity that has been highlighted by the Covid-19 pandemic. They are more likely to work unprotected and underpaid gig economy jobs such as driving for Uber or DoorDash.

This drive has not come without pushback, too, and greater visibility for people of color has thrown into stark relief the casual racism entrenched in the area. For instance, Mayor Wu has been subject to xenophobic attacks by protestors who opposed Boston’s January vaccine mandate. At a press conference on February 14, Huang was harassed for several minutes by a protester who mistook her for Wu; Huang later tweeted, “If only being a 5'4" Asian woman imbued in me the powers of being mayor of Boston.”

Convincing potential voters means being able to point to specific issues that will impact those who might otherwise feel powerless, Huang says. With this goal in mind, organizations are focusing their efforts on two measures expected to be on the ballot in November. There is a constitutional amendment, which organizations with beliefs similar to Huang’s support, that would create an additional income tax for income over $1 million to fund education and transportation. And there is an initiative, which they oppose, to classify rideshare and delivery app drivers as “independent contractors” rather than employees and ensure the companies they work for do not have to provide many traditional benefits. The proposal takes cues from California’s landmark Proposition 22, which Uber, Lyft, DoorDash, Instacart and Postmates spent a record $200 million in order to pass in 2020; since then, California gig workers have lost pay and autonomy even as prices for consumers have shot up.

In Massachusetts, Huang says, “while the floor might not be falling out, we certainly are really far away from the ceiling of political potential.”

Asian confusion: Misidentification is part of every day life for some Asian Americans

Angela Yang

When a protester heckled Massachusetts voting rights activist Beth Huang last month thinking she was Boston Mayor Michelle Wu, it was already Huang’s third or fourth run-in with someone who had mistaken her for Wu, the city’s first nonwhite mayor.

“People confuse me and lots of other Asian women for Michelle Wu,” said Huang, the executive director of the Massachusetts Voter Table. “They’ve confused a state rep of Vietnamese descent to be Michelle Wu. They’ve confused a state rep of Korean descent to be Michelle Wu. They must think that Michelle Wu is literally all over the place all the time.”

For Huang and other Asian Americans around the country, such incidents tend to crop up quietly in daily life. This one happened to make headlines, she said, because it occurred so publicly at a news conference.

An “ABC World News Tonight” broadcast last month misidentified New York City community organizer Grace Lee as Michelle Go, an Asian American woman who was pushed in front of a subway train in January, in its coverage of a vigil for Christina Yuna Lee, another Asian American woman who was killed in her apartment.

An ABC spokesperson said the network realized the mistake immediately and corrected it before the show aired anywhere else. In a statement to the Asian American Journalists Association, it said the misidentification was an “unfortunate technical error, not one born from insensitivity.”

During its coverage of this year’s Super Bowl, NBC also misidentified the country singer Mickey Guyton as the R&B singer Jhené Aiko during a preshow performance. NBC Sports apologized on Twitter and didn’t respond to requests for further comment. NBCUniversal is the parent company of NBC News, NBC Asian America and NBC Sports.

“Every time that happens, it’s not intentional. Or I assume it’s not intentional,” Huang said of her misidentification experiences. “But it does make me think that, often, we are not perceived to be as valuable as individual leaders.”

Simple errors like those usually occur without malice, experts say. But Asian Americans are familiar with a painful history of exclusion in the U.S. that has repeatedly stripped them of their individuality, and many see a pattern in the ignorance that enables such mistakes to occur so frequently today.

Although Asian communities have populated the country since the 1800s, public hostility pushed them, as well as other non-Asian ethnic groups, to form cultural enclaves like Chinatowns. Legislation throughout the latter half of the 19th century, such as the Page Act and the Chinese Exclusion Act, further stereotyped Chinese people into a single category.

Asian immigrants initially were portrayed as cheap, dispensable labor. As more arrived in the country, caricatures associated with the “Yellow Peril” depicted them as a threat to the West.

The inability to separate Asian people from their races and perceived nationalities then grew starker as the U.S. entered wars against Asian countries. From the incarceration of Japanese Americans without trial during World War II to the lumping together of various Asian ethnicities during the Korean and Vietnam wars, experts said, such conflicts contributed to the homogenization of Asian Americans.

“Americans were able to separate Nazis from Germans, whereas many Americans weren’t able were able to separate Vietnamese communists from the Vietnamese in general,” said Scott Wong, a professor of Asian American history at Williams College. “Or they couldn’t make the distinction between soldiers in Japan and Japanese Americans. You had to almost show an allegiance to Hitler or Mussolini for you to be interned during the Second World War if you’re German or Italian.”

While that phenomenon might sometimes be attributed to the cross-race effect — the tendency for people of all races to more easily recognize faces of their own race — Wong said its prevalence when applied to Asian Americans is rooted in that perpetual foreignization throughout U.S. history.

“Many Americans, for the longest time, did not grow up seeing Asian people,” Wong said. “It’s not an excuse now, because there’s a lot of Asians in the country, but it’s a legacy of exclusion and then segregation.”

People today probably aren’t conscious of that context when they mistake one Asian person for another, Wong said. While there’s “nothing malicious” about such incidents now, he said, they are a product of habitual American negligence in learning to distinguish between different Asian people and groups.

Ever since the civil rights activist Mia Ives-Rublee gained national prominence for her work in disability justice, she began seeing herself tagged on social media as one of several other Asian American women in the field. The same happens to them in return, she said.

Such mistakes occur so frequently that when someone requested her for a speaking engagement, Ives-Rublee wasn’t sure whether they’d reached out to the right person. She said the constant instances of mistaken identity have made her feel almost like a fraud.

“It’s just been a frustrating experience, particularly when we hit a certain milestone and get mistaken for somebody else,” she said. “It just takes some of the joy out of the hard work that we put in. Like, is my work making the impact that I think it is if people can’t even tell the difference between me and other people?”

DongWon Song, a literary agent based in New York City, said they get mistaken for one of a handful of prominent Asian American literary agents at least once during every professional conference they attend, even though they often are of other nationalities and have distinctly different physical traits.

“It just felt very racially charged as a result,” said Song, who uses “they/them” pronouns. “I think people misunderstand the term ‘microaggression’ in a lot of ways, because the ‘micro’ doesn’t apply to the impact.”

Regardless of intent, they said, instances like those can feel just as dehumanizing as more overtly racist aggressions: It becomes clear that the perpetrator is upholding an internal projection of who they are rather than engaging with them as an individual.

“It’s going to sound like a big leap, but all those tiny little moments are what make it possible for someone to push someone on the subway tracks without thinking of them as a person or to attack a lady in the street,” Song said. “Until people realize they are complicit in that exact same system, whether it’s making fun of my name or getting my pronouns wrong or thinking I’m literally another person, all those things are designed to remove my humanity and agency in a way that enables violence.”

Such honest mistakes are part of a longstanding pattern of violence against Asian Americans. When two men murdered Vincent Chin in Michigan in 1982, they were looking to take out their anger against the Japanese car industry. Chin, a Chinese American man, became the target of a hate crime against an ethnic group he didn’t belong to.

Lok Siu, an associate professor at the University of California, Berkeley, who specializes in Asian diaspora studies, said racist characterizations have repeatedly linked Asian Americans through similar stereotypes and that people view and understand Asian Americans only through those lenses when they don’t make efforts to familiarize themselves with other ethnic groups.

“So you have these different moments of mistaken identities for particular targeted groups that were really just mistakes,” Siu said. “But they’re mistakes that they don’t care about, because it’s not about the people they’re attacking. It’s really about expressing their rage against a group or against somebody.”

Just as health officials in the late 1800s falsely linked Chinatowns to the spread of disease by blaming Chinese Americans for smallpox and cholera outbreaks, Chinese Americans in 2020 once again became scapegoats for the Covid-19 pandemic.

And against the background of tense U.S. relations with China, Siu said, recent government targeting of Chinese scientists is another modern-day manifestation of fear born from the inability to recognize the individuality of Asian Americans.

When all members of a diverse race of people are viewed as one, one ethnic group’s being targeted can mean any ethnic group’s being targeted. The violence against Asian Americans, particularly East Asians, as a result of recent anti-China discourse isn’t surprising, Siu said, because it’s a product of the same phenomenon that has plagued those communities for nearly two centuries.

“It’s not a one-off. It’s not anomalous. It’s part of a historical process,” Siu said. “And you see this emerging again in this moment, but you see the same thing.”

A protester thought he was heckling Mayor Wu. It wasn’t her.

By Christopher Gavin

A protester on Boston Common on Monday apparently wanted to give Mayor Michelle Wu an earful.

There was only one problem, though: The woman he directed his criticism at wasn’t her.

The demonstrator interrupted a press conference featuring state Rep. Nika Elugardo aimed at boosting support for election-day voter registration, a move supporters say would help raise turnout among Black and Latino voters in Massachusetts, MassLive reports.

The protester, an unidentified man wearing sunglasses and a mask, claimed the American Civil Liberties Union does not care about minority communities and called on officials to probe criminal cases that involved Annie Dookhan, a former state chemist who fabricated evidence in approximately 24,000 cases.

The ACLU requested the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court to dismiss over 40,000 cases that were impacted by Dookhan in 2016, the outlet reports.

“You’re a political puppet … Why don’t you look into it, Mayor Wu?” the protester said, apparently thinking that Wu was among the group leading the conference. “Look into that — you’ll find the truth, Mayor Wu.”

But the mayor wasn’t there.

Instead, the protester, unknowingly, was leveling his criticism at Beth Huang, executive director of Massachusetts Voter Table, who made light of the incident on Twitter later Monday.

“If only being a 5’4″ Asian woman imbued in me the powers of being mayor of Boston,” Huang wrote.

“I am not @wutrain, but we both support voting rights!” she wrote in a follow-up tweet.

Wu chimed in on Twitter, too.

“We should make some good trouble with this,” she tweeted at Huang.

Wu has been no stranger to protestors, as a vocal minority have raised opposition to the city’s employee and indoor COVID-19 vaccination mandates in recent weeks, including by staging demonstrations outside the mayor’s Roslindale home.

But Monday’s incident appeared to succinctly highlight the sexism and racism Wu, the first woman and person of color elected to serve as mayor, has experienced since taking office in November. She and other public officials have spoken out about and denounced the persistent issue during her short tenure in the mayor’s office.

Monday’s press conference came as the Election Modernization Coalition, a group of voting and civil rights advocacy organizations, continued to push for election-day voter registration to be included in a massive voting reform legislative package on Beacon Hill.

The proposal, if passed, could make certain practices — like mail-in voting — adopted during COVID-19 permanent fixtures of Massachusetts elections, MassLive reports.

Voting Rights Advocacy Groups Hold Press Conference on Election Day Registration Compromise for VOTES Act

Voting Rights Advocacy Groups to Hold Press Conference on Election Day Registration Compromise for VOTES Act

MONDAY February 14, 2022 - 1pm - State House Steps

On Monday February 14, 2022 @ 1pm on the steps in front of the Massachusetts State House, the Election Modernization Coalition and community leaders will host "We ️ Voting (and Registering on Election Day)" -- an in-person press conference calling on House and Senate conference committee members to include compromise Election-Day Registration language in the final version of the VOTES Act to be sent to the Governor. Election Day Registration is a form of Same Day Registration that would allow for voters to register on election day, but not on early voting days. 

The Senate included the full Same-Day Registration language (including early voting days) in their version of the VOTES Act but the House didn't include any version of it. Election Day Registration is a compromise between the House and Senate versions that will address many barriers to voting that disproportionately limit the political power of communities of color across Massachusetts, while accounting for the concerns raised by the Massachusetts Town Clerks Association. 

Election Day Registration is very popular with voters. A recent UMass Amherst poll showed that 65% of Massachusetts voters support it. Advocates points to it being the strongest equity provision of the bill as research shows it could boost voter turnout for Black and Latino voters upwards of 17%

The Election Modernization Coalition is the ACLU MA, Common Cause MA, Lawyers for Civil Rights, League of Women Voters MA, MA Voter Table, MassVOTE, and MASSPIRG.