2,102,400 minutes
2,102,000 moments so dear
2,102,400 minutes
How do we measure, measure our lives?
In bitter tears, in broken sleep, in late nights and conversations
In inches, in pounds, in laughter, in strife
“Seasons of Love” (from “Rent” by Jonathan Larson) has been playing in our minds, reminding us of the varied ways in which the passage of time is marked. In honor of Heritage Month, we reflect on our work as Asian American women advocating in a society that has actively resisted our pursuit of equity and justice.
We have been advocating in one high-profile case for years, insisting on being seen and heard. After one hearing, we went to dim sum and noticed how long Joyce’s hair had grown. Down to her waist, her hair had become a concrete measure of the grueling, time-consuming, and exhausting years spent suffering yet continuing to fight for justice.
There is a Chinese legend about 孟姜女 (meng jiang nü), a woman who traveled across the country to find her husband, who had been taken to build the Great Wall. She endured hardship, grief, and injustice. In many versions of the legend, she is described with long, unbound hair — a symbol not of beauty, but of fortitude. Life had become survival, and survival did not leave time for vanity.
Joyce’s hair likewise grew over years of litigation, not as a choice or a style, but as a quiet record of time spent tenaciously filing, waiting, fighting, and enduring. There was no time or margin for haircuts when there were motions to respond to, deadlines to meet, and the constant emotional weight of uncertainty, as well as the perpetual abusive harassment. As the case dragged on, Joyce’s hair became an unintentional measure of persistence.
The length, and graying, of the hair told a story not about appearance, but about endurance, resilience, and the refusal to give up.
Endurance and sacrifice are not new to API communities. During World War II, Japanese Americans were treated as enemies forcibly removed by executive order from their homes and property stolen, while neighbors and the broader community watched. Even orphaned children with any Japanese ancestry were sent to and incarcerated in concentration camps.
Compounding the injustice, the U.S. government also required the incarcerated Americans of Japanese ancestry with no criminal record to attest to their loyalty. While losing all material possessions, deprived of basic civil liberties, and incarcerated, Japanese Americans continued to fight for civil liberties. The varied forms of resistance have become integral threads in the fabric of American history and freedom.
Turning back to the 19th century, we also recognize the fight of Wong Kim Ark (黃金德). Born in the United States in 1873, five years after ratification of the 14th Amendment, which guarantees citizenship to all born in the U.S., Mr. Wong was nevertheless denied re-entry at age 22 after a brief trip abroad.
The U.S. government imprisoned Mr. Wong, an American citizen, on a steamboat in San Francisco Bay, barring him from setting foot in the country of his birth and entire life. He was incarcerated below deck in what was likely a dark, unhygienic, and poorly ventilated jail, for about five months. Supported by the Chinese Consolidated Benevolent Association, a community aid organization, Wong Kim Ark challenged his imprisonment.
The lower court ruled in his favor and ordered his release, but the U.S. government appealed. The U.S. Supreme Court affirmed the lower court ruling, resulting in the seminal judicial case to settle the application of the 14th Amendment to all people born in the U.S. (other than children of diplomats). The 14th Amendment and the United States v. Wong Kim Ark case became important cornerstones in the bedrock of peace and of peaceful transitions of power. For nearly 160 years, our laws have reflected a simple and fundamental principle: Citizenship in the U.S. is not conditioned on parentage or on race.
Yet, this long-settled principle now faces renewed challenge, underscoring the continuing need for fortitude, fight, and endurance. Like the U.S. government attempting to deny Mr. Wong re-entry into the U.S. 128 years ago, or the lawful imprisonment of Japanese American citizens because of their ancestry during the time of war, the U.S. government has resurrected the argument that some of us do not belong because of our parentage or race. If the current administration achieves its goal, a legalized two-tiered system will be reinstated — where one class (mostly white people) would enjoy rights while others (mostly people of color) would be stripped of the ability to work, earn and save money, buy homes, enforce work safety laws, or testify in court.
This administration’s attempt, beginning January 20, 2025 (Trump’s first day back in office), to rescind birthright citizenship is emblematic of the administration’s broader effort to concentrate power in ways that reinforce racial hierarchy — privileging some, particularly whites, and relegating others, particularly immigrants of color, to a more precarious and exploitable status.
Cecillia Wang, the ACLU’s Legal Director, argued on April 1, 2026, before the U.S. Supreme Court against the executive order. Ms. Wang herself is a testament to birthright citizenship. Born in the United States to parents on temporary (student) visas, Ms. Wang was, because of birthright citizenship, able to access education and participate fully in society without the insecurity and fear of deportation. On this important foundation, she stood before the U.S. Supreme Court, fighting for our constitutional rights.
While she fights for a society grounded in equity, a starkly different message is being amplified in the public sphere by the U.S. president. On April 22, Trump reposted four pages of divisive vitriol, which attacked Chinese and Indian immigrants, including with:
A baby here becomes an instant citizen, and then they bring the entire family in from China or India or some other hellhole on the planet…They’re not like the European Americans of today or their ancestors. The Irish integrated, the Italians integrated, the Polish integrated…We’ve gone from the melting pot to the chamber pot.
We must work together and condemn this harmful narrative. It is our collective responsibility to end this vitriolic racism. We are American. Asian Americans built the transcontinental railroad, labored as the backbone of the economy through carework, made scientific and medical advancements, and continue to reshape this nation into our America.
As Joyce’s long hair illustrates, endurance and survival are not confined to history. We still struggle within unjust systems that disadvantage, marginalize, and oppress us. However, standing on the shoulders of our ancestors, we know we are not alone, and we double down on our advocacy for a more just future. After all, what else would be a worthwhile measure of our lives?
Jamie Cho, Ph.D., is an educator, researcher, and advocate for equity and justice in early childhood education. Joyce Shui, J.D., is an attorney and community advocate focused on civil rights and equity.
