PNR voting!!

I really like Meljean Brooks. and Nalini Singh. But have to say, Meljean hasn't gotten the publicity she deserves. This is also a shameless bid to win an ipad2 as well.

Where are you from?

I'd bristle whenever I heard that question. My answer was always a drawn out, Chicago IL, while I pointedly stared at the offenders and dared them to question me even further.

No.. (indulging smile) you know what I mean, where are you really from?

Making me admit my ethnicity was like pulling teeth. I prefer the direct, "What are you?" approach then the "Where are you from?" which implies that I'm still considered an outsider.

But, this year, I've stopped caring. Part of it was the boyfriend who's also Asian-American and who's never been bothered by the question himself. Most of it was that during interview season, my most hated phrase was the one question you could count on being asked by every applicant at least once.

I asked it myself more times than I could count. And ethnicity was the farthest from our minds. We wanted to know about which medical schools we were from and the places we called home. When we talked about programs, I was part of a new group, the American Medical Graduates. I was an "us" and the International Medical Graduates were the "them." And it felt good.

When I came home, I ran into an Asian-American MS2 on the streets. We started talking about food and he mentioned Chinatown.

Curious, I asked him, "Where are you from?" He look shocked. He spluttered. I could see his mind trying to wrap around the fact that another Asian-American, someone who should understand, was making him feel like he didn't belong.

I clarified, "I mean, are you like from California? Because Chicago's Asian food is pretty good, but Californian Asian food is probably a lot better."

I felt pretty good about myself. I had moved on. I was now just plain American and clearly this MS2 still had some ways to go before he could put together his fractured self-identity into something whole.

Then today, when I was purchasing the green book at the bookstore, the clerk asked me, "Where are you from?" I answered automatically, "Hometown, IL."

"haha no seriously, I mean, like where are you from?" I could literally hear the bubble burst. I felt like I was back at square one. But now that I think about, I've probably moved a few steps forward.

Since the Chinese Exclusion Act was repealed only in 1965, Asians are a new immigrant population. It might take a couple generations before we're considered an integral part of the whole. But, I have hope because while there are a lot of people who still consider me foreign, I've met a lot of other people who already consider me part of that whole. And when I automatically answered "Hometown, IL" instead of raising my hackles, I realized I considered myself part of that whole too.

Ohio State bitches!

oh my god. Is it 1130 yet???

Empathy is a joke.

The ability to truly understand another human being, whether in joys or ills, is humanly impossible. In fact, outside of our own close family and friends, other human beings are simply not real people.

My perspective on empathy changed when I became a patient myself a couple years back. Before undergoing a vascular Interventional Radiology procedure, I remember the fellow asked me if I wanted pain medications or not. Since she reassured me that there should be very little pain, I politely declined any analgesics. But when the fellow started to forcefully push the stiff catheter device into my arm, I had to stop the procedure. No pain?? This was fucking pain. Sharp, agonizing pain. I cried and I was embarrassed. and then I asked for some real pain meds.

The next time I went to IR again, I had a different fellow. I asked him to wait a few more seconds after numbing the catheter insertion site with lidocaine before proceeding. His impatience and frustration was obvious. Even though he "understood" the pain I would soon experience, finishing the procedure was a higher priority. I wasn't a real person to him. He waited a few more seconds than what was probably usual for him, and started anyway amidst my weak protests.

And then, I started to realize that the problem with empathy is not isolated to medical professionals and their patients. It's rampant, and it's everywhere. I've even blogged about it before.

Inability to empathize is why we can talk shit about each other. It's why we can conduct heinous acts of violence/racist crimes against each other. Because, even though we know that our victims are human beings, until we've been in their shoes, they are not real persons. We've all got a little antisocial personality disorder in us.

I've brought up my theories to friends/families and at first, there is reluctance to agree with me. People like to think of themselves as nice. That if they saw suffering of any sort, they would be able to relate and help in some way. But frankly, if we were able to empathize with the world, we would be frozen in terror and grief while we truly comprehended the effects of natural disasters and human tragedies.

Empathy really is a joke. And that's a good thing. It allows us to function when the rest of the world might be falling apart. Understanding the truth behind empathy can even make you a better sympathizer. People can tell when you're bullshitting, even if you can't yourself. But, when you realize your own limits, others start to appreciate that you do care, even if you still can't honestly relate.

And also, when more of us start to realize that it's so easy to hurt others because we view non family/friend peoples as objects instead of persons, the world might even become a better place.