In March 2021, I found myself facing harassment at a gun range in Bolingbrook, IL. At that time, the weight of the pandemic was heavy, and amidst its chaos, incidents of Asian hate crimes were on the rise. As an Asian conservative, I couldn’t shake off a sense of paranoia as I entered the premises and found myself surrounded by maskless white men.
I had come to the range to break in a new firearm, hoping for a simple outing. But upon seeing the lack of masks, I felt pressured to conform and removed mine, albeit uncomfortably. It seemed like a political statement, one that I, as a conservative, might be expected to support. However, the contradiction of being in the midst of a pandemic while disregarding safety measures struck me deeply.
As I approached the counter to check in, I was met with a gesture demanding that I put my mask back on. Confusion swept over me – wasn’t this a maskless environment? I couldn’t help but notice the two Caucasian teenagers nearby, witnessing the encounter. Their expressions mirrored my incredulity, silently asking if what just happened was real.
Rather than retaliate, I chose to respond with kindness, offering a tip to the man at the counter. But the tension in the room was palpable. Surrounding me were armed Caucasian men, their crossed arms and unwavering stares conveying a message of unwelcome. I couldn’t shake off the feeling of being an outsider in a space where I should have felt safe.
Throughout my time at the range, questions raced through my mind, each one adding to my emotional turmoil. Was I being targeted because of my race? Were these actions part of the broader Asian hate movement? The fear of violence loomed large as I found myself isolated in a single range, surrounded by armed strangers.
As the hour drew to a close, relief washed over me that I hadn’t fallen victim to violence. But the trauma of the experience lingered, leaving me shaken to my core. Being bullied in a gun store for racist reasons was a chilling reality I hadn’t anticipated. The psychological game they played with me left scars that went beyond the surface.
In the aftermath of this ordeal, the weight of the trauma became too much to bear. Suicidal thoughts consumed me, and I found myself in a dark place, struggling to find a reason to keep going. Eventually, I reached out for help and was admitted to a mental health facility for ten days under suicide watch.
During those long, agonizing days, I fought to find the will to live. Through therapy and support, I began to see a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Slowly but surely, I started to rebuild myself, finding strength in my resilience and determination to overcome adversity.
Today, I stand here as a survivor, testament to the fact that even in our darkest moments, there is always a flicker of light waiting to guide us home. My journey towards healing is far from over, but I’m grateful for every step forward, knowing that I have the power to reclaim my life and rewrite my story.
