What Being an Asian American Means To Me? It’s All About Family . . .

Neville BilimoriaBy Neville M. Bilimoria

As an individual born in the United States to parents who were born and raised in India, I take a lot of pride in the sacrifices and hard work of my parents who made my life possible here in the U.S.

My father was born in a small town north of Mumbai called, Bilimora, where I get my last name. It is more of what we call today, a village, with no paved roads and for a while, no running water. He lived in poverty in that town and grew up sometimes shoeless and hungry with his parents and brother and sisters. Early on, amidst the stench of squalor and almost hopelessness in that village, he had a hard work ethic and he studied very hard. His hard work paid off, earning him a rare Tata Scholarship that allowed him to exit India, travel abroad, and obtain a scholarship to study in the U.S. At that time, only 10 Tata scholarships were awarded in the entire country of India. My father worked and studied very hard to obtain that notable award, and gain freedom outside of his small village to encounter new and exciting opportunities in the United States.

My dad studied and worked very hard at Tennessee University and Roosevelt University, earning many advanced graduate engineering and managerial degrees, only to land a highly sought after job working for General Electric Company for 35 years as a manager of refrigeration and range in Chicago. At one point he oversaw a busy manufacturing plant in Cicero, Illinois, just outside Chicago, where he managed over 16,000 employees. He brought my mom over from Mumbai in 1965 and my brother and I were born here in the U.S. shortly thereafter.

As wonderful a story as it was, and one that I am thankful for every day, my dad did experience discrimination during his time here, especially in the late 1960s. My dad made it a point to keep his experiences private, perhaps to save us from the excruciating pain of discrimination, and to perhaps shield us as best he could from the darker side of the U.S. — our free country that he loved. Even when he died early in 2002 from a bout with prostate cancer, he never showed us or told us about his discrimination, though we knew he encountered it. He always tried to be brave for me and my brother, but we knew being brown skinned and in the U.S. most of his life that he did encounter discrimination.

For example, it was only recently that my mother told us of a story about my father when the movie Green Book came out. Travelling in Tennessee, my father entered a diner (nerdy and clueless) and waited for a long time to be served. Finally, seeing no one that would take his order, a patron walked up and said “we don’t serve your kind around here.” At that point my father, always embracing Gandhi’s anti-violence teachings, packed up and walked out of the diner.

Indeed, growing up in Chicago, I myself faced instances of hatred based on my ethnicity, often misplaced and mistaken. For example, as a young boy in Chicago, I experienced many folks in school (often older kids) telling me to go back to Iran, or calling me derogatory terms that didn’t even match my ethnicity. Many kids in school also called me “Dot head” or “Gandhi”. I didn’t think too much of it then, adopting my Dad’s philosophy of just focusing, studying hard, and choosing to turn the other cheek.
In this month of Asian Heritage, I now look back on those instances of discrimination, and posit to you that these horrible acts actually made me and my family stronger.

Looking back, I’m glad that kids made fun of me and called me Gandhi. In essence, they were honoring my father and his peaceful, hardworking way of life. And I just worked harder in school to honor my family.

In even these recent times of hate crimes, the one solace we all have is our family and each other. That sense of family will continue to drive Asian Americans through any tough times ahead.

*This series has been created to celebrate Asian Pacific American Heritage Month.

What Being an Asian American Means To Me

Cyndie M. ChangBy Cyndie M. Chang

It means resilience. One of the reasons we celebrate Asian Pacific American Heritage in May is to mark the anniversary of the completion of the transcontinental railroad in May 1869. The majority of the workers who laid the tracks were Chinese immigrants, and one of them was my great great grandfather. Since then, Asians and Pacific Islanders immigrated to the United States and have made significant contributions to our country. My great great grandpa worked under dangerous conditions to build something, in a literal and figurative sense. He was not only building the railroad, but establishing a better life here for his family.

That eventually led to the opportunity for my grandpa and his partners to start a humble little Chinese restaurant in 1935 serving the Japanese American community. The Far East Café neon sign that says “Chop Suey” is still lit up in what is now called Little Tokyo in Los Angeles. My dad bused tables there while Mom was in nearby Chinatown, where she was a seamstress at a sewing factory. After WWII and the internment camps, many Japanese Americans came back home to nothing, but they returned to the Far East Cafe that continued to serve families needing to rebuild. Apparently, the Far East Cafe was popular to generations of Japanese Americans who wanted to celebrate weddings, birthday parties, and other milestones. If one didn’t have enough money to pay for a meal, that was OK there cause you could just wash dishes or you’d make it up next time because there was an understanding that we all had to stick together and look out for each other in hard times. While the restaurant had great starchy Chinese food, its greater significance was it being an informal hub of the Japanese American community after the camps. And, the building is now designated a National Historic Landmark.

Fast forward, I persevered to be the first lawyer in my family. I became the president of the National Asian Pacific American Bar Association (NAPABA) in 2016-2017. At the time, there was a resurgence of anti-immigrant racism and hate crimes. NAPABA led hate crime advocacy and coordinated with other bar organizations on civil rights issues. I was proud to lead NAPABA then being an American with deep immigrant roots of six generations overcoming racism and hate, including the worst kind of hatred — I no longer have an uncle because a white supremacist took his life decades ago due to a hatred for others of a different skin color.

There is resilience in generations before me and the Asian American community. From the Chinese Exclusion Act to the Japanese Internment camps to the xenophobia after 9/11 against Muslims/South Asians to the continued racism in recent times, Asian Americans continue to face being the perpetual foreigner. I embrace and appreciate the stories of resilience from my family and from others. All of us have stories of overcoming adversity and I hope that this global pandemic gives everyone a deeper appreciation and respect of our collective experiences. What is important from these stories is how we’ve overcome challenges, and how those stories drive what we do every day in setting a path for this generation and for those who come after us.

*This series has been created to celebrate Asian Pacific American Heritage Month.

What Being Asian American Means To Me

Deborah LuBy Deborah Lu

It means food. Food is community, food is family and food is universal.

I am an “ABC”—an American Born Chinese. I grew up in Belleville, Montville and Westfield, New Jersey. I was fortunate to have many aunts, uncles and cousins who also lived in New Jersey, so large family dinners were common. Phrases of “have you eaten”, “are you hungry” or “here, try this” were expressions of love. I have fond memories of making wontons and hot pot dinners, where cooking and retrieving food from the hot pot was a full contact sport.

My mother was a wonderful cook and she made me care packages of my favorite dinners when I was in college. Unfortunately, they were very popular with my roommates so I had to eat quickly before they were gone. My mother’s response was to cook more so there was enough for everyone.

Today, I keep these traditions alive by hosting dinners, especially hot pot dinners. I have watched the children first refusing to eat hot pot (too foreign) and then eagerly asking when was the next dinner. Unfortunately, I have not yet mastered won tons but when I do so, it will be a welcome addition to the hot pot.

I remember my neighbor the Italian grandmother and my Shanghainese grandmother who could not speak to each other, but communicated through their mutual love of cooking. A friend’s German mother feeds me her special potato salad. I have been fortunate to be invited for meals all over the world, and there is nothing like home cooking.

It is no wonder that client relations blossom over lunches and dinners and deals are often closed over meals. Even though the new normal includes more videoconferences than meals, I am optimistic that we will return to a time where sharing food takes center stage.

*This series has been created to celebrate Asian Pacific American Heritage Month.

What Being Asian American Means To Me: The Indo-Caribbean-American Edition

By Amrita Narine

For me, being Asian American is about compromise and embracing all aspects of my identity.  For years I struggled with my identity, often settling for the answer that made things easier for everyone around me.  Slowly, I cut out parts of my identity for the sake of fitting in, until I realized that I should not be compromising myself to make those around me feel better.

The confusion stems from the fact that my parents were both born in Guyana, which is the only English speaking country in South America and culturally considered part of the Caribbean.  Their ancestors were brought over to Guyana from India as indentured servants by the British.  Thus, creating the Indo-Caribbean identity.

After living in a predominantly Indo-Caribbean neighborhood in Queens, New York, I was not prepared for entering the melting pot that is New York City.  Once outside of the bubble that was my neighborhood, where I never had to second guess my identity, people would often ask me “What are you?” or “Where are you from?”  I quickly learned that no one was interested in the fact that I was born and raised in Queens, New York.  What they really wanted to know was, “Where are your parents from? And their parents? And their parents? And theirs?” “I’m Guyanese” always prompted a mix of responses: “Wait, you’re not Indian?” or “You’re from Africa?” Explaining that my forefathers were from India rarely failed to elicit the same response: “Oh, so you are Indian.” “Not exactlybut okay,” became a response that I was all too familiar with.

Over time, these questions forced me to think about what I should choose as my identity.  Do I accept the box that is most assumed?  That I am Indian, which is an assumption entirely based on my skin tone and my name.  Should I celebrate being Guyanese, which is a fusion of both Caribbean and Indian culture.  Or do I embrace being American, because, as my parents believe, being American represents freedom, opportunity, and choice.

Around my family, I was not Guyanese enough because I don’t have a Guyanese accent and I don’t like roti (I promise—to those of you that don’t know—this is blasphemous).  To Indians, I was not Indian enough – our curry is different, our language is different, and our music is different.  And to the world, it was never enough to say that I was American because obviously my parents couldn’t have come from the United States.

After years of struggling, I finally realized that I don’t have to pick and choose parts of my identity.  It is okay to embrace and celebrate all of it because I do represent all of these cultures.  I am Indian.  I am Guyanese.  I am Caribbean.  I am American.  And I embody more than what any one of those words can describe.

*This is the second of several blog posts that will be published by Duane Morris attorneys during Asian Pacific American Heritage Month. 

Duane Morris Celebrates the Ronald H. Brown Center for Civil Rights

Ralph CarterBy Ralph Carter

On Monday, February 24, 2020, Duane Morris’ National and New York Diversity and Inclusion team hosted a Black History Month celebration in partnership with the St. John’s University School of Law’s Ronald H. Brown Center for Civil Rights. The Ronald H. Brown Center is headed by Director Kamille Dean, who is the Law School’s Director of Diversity and Inclusion, and Professor Elaine Chiu, who serves as Faculty Advisor for the Center.

The Ronald H. Brown Center is named after the esteemed St. John’s Law alumnus Ronald H. Brown ’70, ‘89HON, who served as the nation’s first African American Secretary of Commerce and first African American Chairperson of the Democratic National Committee, along with countless other historic achievements in politics, international commerce and the law. The life of Secretary Brown was tragically cut short in April 1996 while on a trade mission to promote economic development in the war-ravaged Balkan region.
The celebration of the work of the Ronald H. Brown Center was attended by St. John’s Law alumni and students, and other supporters of the Center. Also in attendance were alumni of the Ronald H. Brown Law School Prep Program for College Students and recipients of full-tuition scholarships to St. John’s Law School under the aegis of the Ronald H. Brown Scholars Program.

Continue reading “Duane Morris Celebrates the Ronald H. Brown Center for Civil Rights”

Duane Morris LLP Earns Top Marks in 2020 Corporate Equality Index

2020 Corporate Equality Index Best Place to Work for LGBTQ EqualityDuane Morris LLP received a score of 100 percent on the Human Rights Campaign Foundation’s 2020 Corporate Equality Index (CEI), the nation’s premiere benchmarking survey and report measuring corporate policies and practices related to LGBTQ workplace equality. Duane Morris LLP joins the ranks of more than 680 major U.S. businesses that also earned top marks this year.

The results of this year’s CEI showcase how 1059 U.S.-based companies are not only promoting LGBTQ-friendly workplace policies in the U.S., but helping advance the cause of LGBTQ inclusion in workplaces abroad. Duane Morris LLP’s efforts in satisfying all of the CEI’s criteria earned a 100 percent ranking and the designation as a Best Place to Work for LGBTQ Equality.

The CEI rates companies and top law firms on detailed criteria falling under five broad categories:

  • Non-discrimination policies
  • Employment benefits
  • Demonstrated organizational competency and accountability around LGBTQ diversity and inclusion
  • Public commitment to LGBT equality
  • Responsible citizenship

The full report is available online at www.hrc.org/cei.

Visit the Duane Morris website for more information about Duane Morris LLP’s diversity and inclusion efforts.

© 2009- Duane Morris LLP. Duane Morris is a registered service mark of Duane Morris LLP.

The opinions expressed on this blog are those of the author and are not to be construed as legal advice.

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