At age ten, I immigrated from China to Oakland, California, a city filled with crime, poverty, and racial tension. In elementary school, I didn’t wear name-brand clothing or speak English. My name soon became “Ching Chong,” “Chinagirl,” and “Chow Mein.” Other children laughed at my language, my culture, my ethnicity, and my race. I said nothing.
You call me “Cracker”, “Honkey”, “Whitey”, “Gringo” and you think it’s OK.
…But when I call you Kike, Towelhead, WOP, Camel Jockey, Gook, Nigger or Chink you call me a racist.
Jaysus. What the fuck is in the air these days?
–linkswipes from reddit
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