03/16/2026
Remembering Atlanta Spa Shooting
Today marks another year since the Atlanta spa shootings. I remember the grief, the pain, and the way my body held it. I felt like I couldn’t shut anything off.
What stayed most with me was what happened after, the lack of outrage. The way the violence was explained away, minimized...treated like an unfortunate headline instead of a brutal, targeted act. I watched people move on quickly, and it forced me to look closely at how easily Asian women are dehumanized.
I kept thinking about how the world talks about Asian women. How often they’re flattened into stereotypes, reduced to something “exotic”. Treated as a fantasy or something to be dominated, instead of a full human being.
The shootings didn’t come out of nowhere. They were the normalization of the hyper-fetishization and sexualization of Asian women. And then people act surprised when the violence shows up in real life.
This is not something that should be grieved once a year. These acts continue. Not too long ago, I was at the mall with my daughter and her friends. We wanted to enjoy our time in Portland, do the normal things.
A man started following us. He trailed us from store to store, close enough that I could feel my body shift into that familiar alertness. I tried to stay calm for the kids, but inside I was calculating exits, scanning reflections, watching his distance.
At one point, I asked a store clerk for help. I needed someone to step in, someone to take it seriously, to create a barrier, to simply acknowledge what was happening. He wouldn’t. He didn’t intervene. He didn’t check in. He didn’t help us feel safe.
And in that moment, I felt the same cold truth I felt after Atlanta...how quickly our fear is dismissed. How often Asian women are expected to absorb danger quiety, to stay polite, to not make a scene, even when our safety is on the line.
I am a domestic violence survivor and this moment of reality changed me. It pushed me to look for safety where I could actually feel it, in community. In spaces where I didn’t have to translate my fear, defend my grief, or prove that what happened mattered.
I leaned into relationships that held me with care. With people who understood that healing isn’t passive and that safety is something we build together. It also sparked something in me that I couldn’t ignore, the urgency to educate youth.
Because young people are inheriting these narratives, through media, jokes, “preferences”, and the everyday ways Asian women are talked about and treated. If we don’t name the harm early, it becomes normal. And when it becomes normal, it is dangerous.
On this anniversary, I’m holding truth. The truth is, not much has changed. The dehumanization is still here. And the harm is still being dismissed, reframed, or ignored.
I’m not going to be silent about it. I will keep speaking up against the dehumanization of Asian women. I will keep naming the systems and stories that make violence feel inevitable. I will keep choosing community, education, and collective care. Our bodies are not disposable, and our humanity is not up for debate.
