It was 4am when I finally settled into that sweet comforting cobalt sea that was my bed. With Spotify eliciting Louis Armstrong’s smooth ‘What a Wonderful World,’ I allowed my brain to begin shutting down. I dimmed my nightstand light and one by one, exited out of my Safari tabs, The Princetonian, Huffington Post, NBC News, LindyLi.com, a wiki page of William Tong, and of course, Facebook.
For the past three hours, I had been researching questions for Congressional candidate Lindy Li. She is running for the stateswoman position in the sixth district of Pennsylvania, but due to the incredible monetary support of Chinese-American Nutmeggers, had been holding a fundraiser in Fairfield, Connecticut. The Chinese-American adults had rallied a group of youths to attend in the hopes of them becoming inspired to one day follow Li’s example. They had hoped that some of us might stray from the well-beaten STEM pathway and discover a career as a public servant.
I awoke the next morning in a haze as anyone coming off of five hours of sleep might expect. I mustered my strength, rose from my navy sheets and covers and downed a Red Bull before slipping into the shower. A half hour later, I emerged from my room; hair combed and fully clad in a button down and tie.
In the 20-minute drive to Fairfield, I reflected on the conflicting emotions I felt towards Li. As a member of the Chinese-American community, I have always been hopeful for the success of any Chinese-American man or woman hoping to attain political office. As both a student journalist and leader, however, I am cautioned to give support to any cause without first personally analyzing their motivation.
At present, Chinese-Americans seem desperate for a voice in politics. It is a weakness in an otherwise strong community, but where weakness lies, there are those that may seek to further their personal agendas. It is not an accusation that I make against Ms. Li, but it is a caution everyone must take before supporting any candidate. They must ask themselves how this candidate helps our community once he/she has attained office and whether we believe that they will hold true to their word.
In our eyes, we are similar to those first European immigrants, who once famously cried, “No Taxation without representation!” We have only a small voice with which to speak as we seek to fight for our constitutional rights as American citizens. But, as we look for leadership among our own, we must be careful to choose a candidate who firmly stands for our communal beliefs.
It was American leadership Author and Public Speaker, John Maxwell who once said, “People buy into the leader before they buy into the vision.” As I arrived at Jinn’s Fresh Noodle house in Fairfield, Connecticut on the second morning of 2016, I had prepared to evaluate Li’s personal convictions, rather than her vision and political stance.
I walked into Jinn’s with a predetermined idea about Li from the hours I had spent researching her just before the sun rose. To me, her switching of races from the 7th district to the admittedly politically weaker 6th made it seem that she didn’t truly want to represent the people of any district, but rather, was looking for the easier win. From a search on the Princetonian, it seemed to me that she never really came in contact with opposing forces during her time at Princeton. She had attained the Class president title her freshman year with the resignation of Ashton Miller and in years after ran unopposed. In my mind, she was untested and inexperienced. And yet, as I walked into Jinn’s, I sincerely hoped that my assessment would be proved wrong. The Chinese-American people needed to add to its voice.
In the three-hour fundraiser during which I knew Lindy Li, I saw the roots of a better America for Chinese-Americans. Through William Tong, through Tony Hwang, and now through Lindy Li, the Chinese community has begun building up its political influence.
As of now, I do not believe that Li is the ideal candidate to represent Chinese-American interests. But, through experience and her acceptance of helpful criticism, she can come close. She has the aggressive drive that will help her win elections. But, what she truly accomplishes in office can only be determined through her desire to attend to the people. I don’t believe she is there yet. I hope that Li can learn to become a public servant who isn’t concerned with the power she holds, but one that can truly identify as a politician, of the people, for the people. When I talked with her in private before the event began, she mentioned that she didn’t believe that ideology was important. She felt that action spoke louder. But to Li, I say that louder isn’t necessarily always better heard. As a Chinese-American, and I imagine, especially as a woman, you will come under fire from many different sources during your career. It is in these times that you must have found ideals that will hold you true to your cause. For what is action that has forgotten reason? It is nothing but a voice lost in the wind.
With this New Year of 2016, I’ve felt the renewed strength of a faint breath call to me from within. It is a voice that has long pushed me. One that rang clear as I sought a campaign for the student representative role at my high school and called again as I pushed for fundraisers in the annual Connecticut Food Drive enterprise season. It was the same whisper that had entangled my life in the throes of ice hockey as a boy. It pushed me to skate harder, eat better. It is the voice of passion and in knowing that I’ve found something that means the world to me. As hockey has come to exercise my physical state, I’ve found a trainer to employ my love of people. As more Chinese-Americans like William Tong and Lindy Li come together, our voice only grows stronger. In the end, the result is what deems us worthy. We will not stand voiceless.
hockey976 