The Smear Campaign Continues
After sharing my blog last week, I thought that the lies would stop. They haven’t. Now, troubling rumors are circulating within the community suggesting that the two Asian candidates are racist. These lies not only are absurd—they are divisive and dangerous. People who once greeted me warmly now avoid my gaze. Friends have become strangers, treating me like an outsider in a community where I’ve worked hard to serve and belong.
Coming to America
When my family arrived in America, we landed in Hollywood, California—not the glamorous side, but the area where broken dreams and desperation collide. My mother, a single parent who didn’t speak English, found work as a housekeeper in Beverly Hills. She could come home only one day a week, leaving my brother and me to fend for ourselves in a motel.
The motel was run by one of her childhood friends, an “auntie” who let us stay in one of the rooms while she kept an eye on us. I want to be clear—I am grateful for her help. Without her, we wouldn’t even have had a chance at the American dream. Life wasn’t easy, but it gave us a foundation on which to build. To this day, we still are in touch. She’s in her 80s now, and I consider her one of the most influential people in my life.
Facing the Bullies
For context, an episode of T.J. Hooker, an ’80s crime drama featuring William Shatner and Heather Locklear, was filmed at the motel during the time that we lived there. It wasn’t a safe place. My brother and I were told to take the same path home from school every day. No detours.
One day, three older kids—siblings from different grades—blocked us on our way home. They called us “chinks,” mimicking Chinese accents in cruel, mocking tones. The sound of their voices still scrapes in my ears like nails on a chalkboard. We ran as fast as we could, but they laughed and promised they’d be waiting for us the next day.
At 11 years old, I felt like the head of our little family. I was responsible for keeping my brother safe, and I couldn’t let my mother down. The next day, I found a longer route—one that took 45 minutes instead of 15. After two days of taking the detour, I knew that it wasn’t sustainable. I had to ask myself: What’s the greater risk—passing the bullies or walking through streets filled with pimps, prostitutes, and junkies?
Finding Allies and Standing Up
We couldn’t keep running. That’s when we turned to Lynn for help. Lynn was the only other Asian kid in school. Although she was Vietnamese and we were Chinese, and we didn’t speak the same native language, we still understood each other. Kids like us didn’t need words to understand fear—or compassion.
I told her, “If bullies come, you run. Go get help.” Lynn nodded without hesitation.
The next day, when the bullies waited in their usual spot, I shouted, “Run! Go get help!” Lynn took off, fast and sure. The bullies scattered before an adult arrived. That was the last time we saw them.
That day, I learned a lesson that I’ve carried with me ever since: You have to stand up to bullies.
Standing Up Again
Today, I find myself standing up once more. The bullies look different now, but their tactics are the same—using fear and intimidation to block people. These supposed leaders, from whom we should be able to expect better, feel threatened by newcomers and fear losing their grip on power. They provide no proof to support their accusations, yet demand answers from us as if we owe them something. This is gaslighting: flipping the narrative to make the victim look like the aggressor.
This smear campaign undermines everything that I’ve struggled to build. As an HR professional, I’ve spent my career fostering diversity, equity, and inclusion (DE&I)—creating spaces where everyone belongs. To be accused of racism isn’t just insulting; it’s a direct attack on my integrity and the work to which I’ve dedicated my life. These bullies have no regard for the impact this has on my family or my children.
Bullying has serious consequences. Children mirror adult behavior. Is it any wonder that we are facing a mental health crisis in our society?
Twisting Diversity to Fit an Agenda
When I entered this race, I learned something new: Asian Americans are labeled “adjacent white,” supposedly too privileged to need inclusion. It’s a label that erases the struggles that my family and I endured just to get here, reducing us to outsiders once again.
This isn’t the Princeton I believe in and want to live in. I know this isn’t the Princeton most of us want. DE&I isn’t a term you twist to decide who belongs—it should mean that everyone belongs.
A Call to Action
On Election Day, I ask you to stand with me and stop the bullying. Vote for candidates who believe in unity and authenticity—not those who divide us with fear and lies.
Together, we can build a Princeton where every person feels seen and valued, and where kindness and courage lead the way. No one should have to fight alone. Let’s stand up for the community we believe in and create a future where everyone belongs.
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I still have about 20 lawn signs, if you would like one, please write to us at info@votepotter.org. Let's unite to get to the finish line.
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Categories: : #reflection, #sharing