Asian, Undocumented, Essential
The 2019-2020 Coronavirus pandemic is a watershed moment in my life. From its early coverage to forcing the whole world under lockdown, the Coronavirus collided into the lives of each and every one of us. I became more aware of my identifications and intersectionality everyday. As an undocumented Asian essential worker and student living in the United States, I anticipated facing obstacles and challenging, but the virus has presented new ones that I was not prepared for. I find myself no longer trying to fit in this world, with my already marginalized identities, but trying to survive in it.
Chairs are stacked because we can no longer offer dine-in service. Instead, we hand off food at the door. Wait times before the pandemic averaged 20 minutes. Now, customers must wait 90 minutes or more.
Before any politician recognized me as a citizen or even a legal resident, they recognized me as an essential worker. I work in my family’s Thai restaurant, serving traditional Thai food from the country where I was born. My family and I struggled through a lot during our time in the United States and owning a business to provide for ourselves was more than an accomplishment, it was a victory over the obstacles we had faced to come to this point. Now, during the Coronavirus pandemic, being owners of an Asian food establishment leaves us with more anxiety of vandalism or decline in business due to xenophobia. At the beginning of the quarantine, a white customer who we denied service to multiple times due to his disrespect, came in and ordered food from our restaurant. After making his purchase, he said with a smug attitude “you should be glad to have my business now, this will make you learn how to run a business and it’s only a matter of time before you’re forced to close.” I hated serving him that food, but I hated the thought of how right he might’ve been, so I swallowed my pride and kept my mouth shut.
Dealing with harassment as an Asian in America
As weeks passed and the quarantine grew worse, households were unable to get the supplies they needed from wholesale retail and grocery stores. That made our restaurant and our food more important in feeding the community. I come in contact with medical workers, family members, and food delivery drivers, each sharing their own anxiety about going outside and bringing the virus to their family. Our food reaches their family before they do. Many of them have to self-isolate themselves away from their spouse and kids in order to keep them safe. Prior to the pandemic and lockdown, I didn’t see my work as essential or even having a greater impact, however, now my family and I receive genuine thanks from the community for being open and feeding families. This gratitude only grows as more food establishments close and we remain open. It becomes stressful, however, I suffer at least one nervous breakdown a week from meeting the demand for food. At the end of the day when we’re unable to provide food to households because of curfew or lack of supplies, it takes a toll and it's hard to go to sleep at night knowing a late-night medical worker could not pick up food for their family because we, along with other establishments had to shut down.
Ready for the rush! Between 4-7pm the phone rings non-stop. I don't have time to flip between pages so I have the pads lined up so I can move from one to the next. A mask must be on when greeting customers.
Missing out on graduation
The Coronavirus pandemic forced me to come to terms with my privilege and sometimes lack of it. Being an undocumented Asian essential worker and student during the pandemic is a mentally draining experience. Everyday pokes at my anxiety on whether my family will lose everything we worked for, whether my likelihood of graduation will be suspended or whether I will eventually contract and bring home the virus. Despite the challenges and fear, I intend on coming out of this quarantine stronger.