The 2026 AAUC Sacramento Unity Summit on October 7 at California State University Sacramento (CSUS) was a powerful demonstration of what unity looks like when communities come together with purpose, clarity, and shared commitment. With over 300 registrants and more than 200 attendees, the Summit ran smoothly from start to finish, offering a full day of substantive dialogue, coalition‑building, and renewed civic energy.

From the moment registration opened at 8:15 AM, the atmosphere was vibrant. Attendees from across California and the country filled the room, representing more than 90 nonprofits , government agencies, universities, advocacy groups, and cultural organizations (view list).

Organizations that would not normally be drawn to a Summit on Asian American issues saw it fit to attend this one. Among them were the Greater Sacramento Urban League (African American), County of Sacramento Department of Human Assistance, and the League of Women Voters of California. California Attorney General Rob Bonta delivered a recorded message to the general session. The newly appointed Public Health Director for Sacramento County, Dr. Phuong Luu also addressed the Summit. The reason for all this interest was clear. The Summit addressed issues that affected not just Asian Americans but all racial minority communities, which is 65% of California’s population.

One of the most striking aspects of the day was the strong turnout from Sacramento State University. Students and faculty remained engaged throughout the event, attending every major session and contributing thoughtful questions and reflections. Their presence signaled a growing wave of young AANHPI leaders stepping forward to shape civic life. As one student shared simply, “Hello, I’m an undergrad student here at CSUS!”—a reminder that participation itself is an act of leadership.

A Day of Deep Dialogue and Practical Solutions

The Summit’s five major panels addressed some of the most urgent issues facing AANHPI and minority communities. Each session brought together experts whose lived experience and professional insight grounded the conversation in both reality and possibility.

The morning panel on Cost of Living and Affordability, moderated by Sayali Amarapurkar from SEWA-AIFW, explored the economic pressures facing AANHPI and other immigrant households, from rising housing costs to stagnant wages. The panelists included Sean Cremin, Public Policy Institute of California; Rejie Baloyos, Asian Resources Inc.; and Gabriel Young, MOSAIC.

The panel on Access to Healthcare and Public Benefits, moderated by Rajeev Singh of the Hindu American Foundation, examined the far-reaching consequences of H.R. 1, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, particularly its restrictions on eligibility for Medicaid and food assistance. The panelists included Josh Stehlik, California Immigrant Policy Center; Omar Altamimi, California Pan-Ethnic Health Network; and Sean Atha, Senior VP, Vivant Health.

The women-led panels stood out as highlights of the day. The Mental Health, Identity, and Belonging session, moderated by Jeannie Wong of CSUS, was among the most emotionally resonant. Panelists included Dr. Lakshmi Malroutu, Chief Operating Officer of Asian Pacific Community Counseling; Kao Ye Thao, Interim Executive Director of Hmong Innovating Politics; and Mary Nakamura, Health Program Manager for Sacramento County Behavioral Health Services. Attendee Ari Prathap shared a heartfelt reflection: “To hear that I’m seen and that opening up isn’t wrong or bad after all makes me tear up.” Comments like this captured the profound sense of connection and belonging fostered during the session.

The Political Representation and Voting Rights panel, moderated by Maya C. Miller, political reporter from CalMatters, offered clarity, urgency, and concrete steps for action. Panelists included Jenny Farrell, Executive Director of the League of Women Voters of California; Bobbie Singh-Allen, Mayor of Elk Grove; and Quirina Orozco, West Sacramento City Councilmember. Their insights and leadership underscored the essential role women play in shaping civic discourse, advancing political representation, and driving community change.

The panel on Immigration and Protection of Civil Rights examined the administration’s immigration enforcement strategies, including efforts to bypass due process protections and accelerate deportations. Panelists included Cynthia Choi, Co-Executive Director of Chinese for Affirmative Action and Co-Founder of Stop AAPI Hate; Jessie Mabry, CEO of Opening Doors; and Thu Nguyen, Executive Director of OCA National. The discussion highlighted the growing challenges facing immigrant communities and the urgent need for coordinated legal advocacy, community education, and stronger civil rights protections.

The afternoon presentation on the Minnesota Model, delivered by Sayali Amarapurkar, was another highlight. The model’s emphasis on rapid, cross-sector mobilization resonated strongly with attendees, many of whom expressed interest in replicating similar strategies in their own communities. As one attendee from Minnesota shared, “Happy to be here all the way from Minnesota!” It was a testament to the national relevance of the conversation.

Voices from the Community

Throughout the day, attendees shared reflections that illustrated the Summit’s impact. Marielle Fong noted, “Excellent first panel with very practical call-to-action items.” Representatives from Sacramento County’s Department of Human Assistance encouraged students to learn about food assistance programs. Community advocates from Virginia, Minnesota, and local AAPI organizations expressed gratitude for the space AAUC created.

These voices—diverse, candid, and hopeful—served as real-time indicators of the Summit’s success. They reflected not only appreciation for the event but also a readiness to act.

Unity Built Step by Step, Action by Action

In the closing remarks, attendees were reminded that unity is not an abstract concept—it is something built intentionally, through relationships, conversations, and commitments. The Summit confronted complex issues, but it also demonstrated that when communities come together across ethnicity, race, sector, and geography, they can generate solutions that are bold, practical, and rooted in lived experience.

The most important message of the day was simple: The true impact of the Summit will be measured by what each of us chooses to do next.

Attendees were invited to commit to one action—big or small—to support AANHPI and minority communities in the coming weeks. Whether joining a coalition, mentoring a young leader, advocating for policy change, volunteering with a local organization, or amplifying unheard voices, the call to action emphasizes that collective progress begins with individual steps.

Continuing the Work Ahead

Before leaving, participants were encouraged to visit AAUC’s table display, explore the AAPI Hub, and consider joining AAUC as members. Membership strengthens the shared voice and expands the coalition working toward unity, equity, and lasting change.

AAUC will continue producing podcasts, hosting town halls, organizing regional convenings, developing its news portal, and publishing monthly newsletters to keep communities informed and connected. Just as AAUC adapted during COVID with virtual national forums, the organization remains committed to evolving to meet community needs.

A Summit That Sparked Momentum

With strong participation, smooth operations, and renewed dedication to action, the 2026 Sacramento Unity Summit demonstrated what unity looks like in practice. It brought together students, advocates, policymakers, and community members in a shared space of learning and empowerment.

As the reception and cultural performances began, one thing was clear: the conversations started at the Summit will continue—and the commitments made will shape the work ahead.

Watch Unity Summit Videos

A major shift is underway in global politics, one that has become increasingly clear through the podcasts I’ve been listening to and the conversations I had during my recent extended trip to China. The world is moving decisively toward a multipolar order, where power is distributed among several major states rather than concentrated in one or two. The United States, China, the European Union, India, and Russia now form the primary poles of global influence, with middle powers—from Japan and South Korea to Brazil and the Gulf states—shaping regional dynamics.

This transition is often described as the “birth pains of the multipolar world.” It is a period marked by uncertainty, institutional fragmentation, and geopolitical rivalry. But beneath the turbulence lies a profound opportunity: the chance to build a more balanced, inclusive, and interconnected global system.

The Promise of Multipolarity

A multipolar world is not simply a world with many powerful countries. It is a world where:

• Leadership is shared rather than monopolized.
• Global governance becomes more representative.
• Innovation and cultural exchange flow through multiple hubs.
• Middle powers gain agency and voice.
  

Political thinkers like Amitav Acharya describe this emerging system as a “multiplex world,” a network of overlapping centers of influence rather than a rigid hierarchy. Economist Wing Thye Woo emphasizes that multipolarity can be beneficial if nations embrace “strategic autonomy, multi‑alignment, and institutional pluralism.”

In practical terms, this means countries cooperate based on shared interests rather than ideological blocs. It means global problems like climate change, pandemics, inequality can be addressed by coalitions rather than by a single hegemon. And it means cultural understanding deepens as societies engage with multiple global centers.

The Birth Pains: Real Challenges Ahead

The transition, however, is not smooth. It comes with:

• U.S.–China rivalry and fears of a Thucydides Trap
• Russia’s assertive role in Eurasia and energy geopolitics
• Institutional strain in the UN, WTO, and global health systems
• Supply‑chain realignments and economic uncertainty
• Nationalist politics and racialized narratives

These pressures can create anxiety, especially for diaspora communities. Asian Americans have already experienced heightened suspicion and stereotyping during periods of geopolitical tension. As multipolarity intensifies, these risks may grow.

But birth pains are not destiny. They are a phase and they can be navigated with clarity and purpose.

Why Asian Americans Matter in a Multipolar Future

Asian Americans occupy a unique position in this transition, one that carries both vulnerability and extraordinary potential.

1. Bridge‑Builders Between Worlds

Asian Americans possess cultural fluency, linguistic diversity, and lived experience across continents. This positions them to help the United States engage Asia with nuance rather than fear. They can translate cultural misunderstandings, promote people‑to‑people diplomacy, and encourage cooperative narratives.

In a multipolar world, bridges are more valuable than ever.

2. Champions of Normative Multipolarity

Multipolarity is not automatically good. It can become a world of competing empires—or a world of shared responsibility. Asian Americans can advocate for the latter: a multipolarity grounded in equity, human dignity, and global problem‑solving. This includes supporting:

• Fair trade rules
• Inclusive global institutions
• Anti‑racist domestic policies
• Cross‑cultural education
• Climate and sustainability partnerships

3. Resistance to Racialized Geopolitics

As rivalry intensifies, Asian Americans must reject narratives that cast them as perpetual foreigners or geopolitical pawns. They can assert their American identity confidently, educate communities about the dangers of racialized foreign‑policy rhetoric, and promote cross‑racial solidarity.

4. Leadership in Innovation and Global Collaboration

Asian Americans are central to STEM leadership, entrepreneurship, higher education, and global business networks. In a multipolar world driven by technology and connectivity, these strengths become even more essential.

A Positive Vision of Multipolarity

Imagine a world where:

• The U.S., China, India, Russia, and the EU cooperate on climate, health, and technology.
• Middle powers form coalitions for peace and sustainability.
• Global governance becomes more representative of humanity.
• Cultural exchange flows freely across multiple centers.
• Diaspora communities are celebrated as connectors, not suspected as threats.

This is not naïve. It is possible if nations choose cooperation over fear, and if communities like Asian Americans help guide the narrative.

How Asian Americans Can Navigate the Birth Pains

Here are five practical pathways:

• Strengthen civic engagement to shape U.S. policy toward Asia and the world.
• Build cross‑community alliances to resist racial scapegoating.
• Promote peace‑oriented narratives that reject zero‑sum thinking.
• Lead in education and cultural literacy for younger generations.
• Support inclusive global governance that gives voice to the Global South.

Conclusion: Asian Americans as Architects of a Better Multipolar World

The multipolar world is coming. Its character is not predetermined. It can be turbulent or cooperative, exclusionary or inclusive, racist or equitable.

Asian Americans have the opportunity to help shape the best version of this future.

By serving as bridge‑builders, advocates for equity, champions of global cooperation, and leaders in innovation, Asian Americans can turn the birth pains of multipolarity into the labor of a better world, one where many powers share responsibility, many cultures share wisdom, and humanity moves forward together.

On August 9, I attended the policy forum of the AASF Frontiers & Pioneer Symposium at Stanford University, a convening of national leaders, scholars, and policymakers grappling with some of the most urgent questions facing America today. From civil liberties to federal research funding to the complex dynamics of U.S.–China competition, the forum offered a rare, unfiltered look at the challenges shaping the nation’s scientific and civic future.

Civil Liberties Under Pressure

The program opened with Dr. Karen Korematsu, daughter of Fred Korematsu, whose landmark Supreme Court case helped secure birthright citizenship and civil liberties for generations of Asian Americans. She spoke passionately about the dangers of complacency at a time when civil liberties are increasingly strained. Her message echoed concerns long championed by the Asian American Unity Coalition (AAUC): rights must be defended proactively, not reactively.

Federal Funding and the Future of Research

Former Federal OMB Deputy Director Nani A. Coloretti provided an insider’s view of how federal dollars flow and why the current instability in Congress threatens long-term research planning. She underscored the need for a durable power structure capable of sustaining America’s scientific enterprise, from basic research to bold venture initiatives.

A subsequent panel featuring faculty from UC San Francisco, Princeton, MIT, and the University of Maryland reinforced this point: America’s research universities cannot thrive without predictable funding, strong public-private partnerships, and immigration policies that continue attracting global talent.

Civil Rights, Immigrants, and America’s Promise

Former Congressman Mike Honda reminded attendees that constitutional rights apply to everyone on U.S. soil, regardless of immigration status. He emphasized that immigrants’ willingness to sacrifice, driven by love of family and hope for opportunity, has been central to America’s success. His call to “practice politics” by speaking up, asking hard questions, and holding government accountable resonated strongly.

U.S.–China Competition and the Fate of Scientists

The most anticipated session, Caught in the Middle: U.S.–China Competition and the Fate of America’s Scientists, drew a standing-room-only crowd in the 300-seat Hauck Auditorium. Moderated by Seton Hall law professor Margaret Lewis, the panel featured MIT professor Gang Chen, trial lawyer Jason Liang, and Stanford researcher Graham Webster.

Their message was sobering: many Chinese-heritage scientists continue to face harassment, unclear guidelines, and investigations under revived “foreign agent” frameworks. Homeland Security’s expanding authority, coupled with laws that lag behind technological realities, has created an environment of fear and confusion. Researchers often do not know what is permitted, what is prohibited, or how to safely collaborate internationally.

Congressional Oversight and National Talent

Congressman Ted Lieu warned that congressional oversight has eroded, with major laws increasingly passed as add-ons to unrelated bills. NSF Director Sethuraman Panchanathan added that the U.S. has not fully tapped its domestic talent pool and has substituted this gap by relying heavily on international students. He argued that public service is not sufficiently emphasized in American education, leaving a civic vacuum at a time when national challenges require collective responsibility.

Innovation and the Immigrant Contribution

In his closing keynote, former San Jose Mayor Sam Liccardo noted that the Bay Area’s extraordinary innovation may be tied to its demographics: over 40% of residents are foreign-born. Diversity, he suggested, is not merely a social asset, it is an engine of creativity and economic vitality.

A Call to Action

My key takeaway from the symposium is clear: trust in institutions is eroding, isolated organizations are vulnerable, and collaboration is essential. America must strengthen research funding, protect civil liberties, welcome international students, and cultivate a culture of public service. Individuals, too, must lend their voices and resources to support the organizations working on these issues.

The symposium was a reminder that America’s promise is not self-sustaining. It requires participation, vigilance, and the courage to ask “why” and “how come” and to search relentlessly for the truth.

A central focus of the convention was the changing landscape of Asian American reporting. Sessions encouraged journalists to move beyond episodic coverage and produce deeper, more nuanced reporting that reflects the diversity, complexity, and lived experiences of AAPI communities. Throughout the conference, speakers emphasized that authentic relationships with communities are essential to accurate and meaningful journalism.

During one of the convention’s featured sessions, Asian American Unity Coalition presented: “From Crisis to Coalition: Lessons from the Front Lines.” Anjuli Cameron, CEO of SEWA-AIFW, and Ted Fong, Executive Director of AAUC, examined how Minnesota’s cross-sector coalition responded during Operation Metro Surge by bringing together immigrant organizations, elected officials, faith leaders, legal advocates, and community organizations to protect civil rights. Participants explored practical lessons in coalition building and discussed how journalists can better understand and report on communities responding to crisis through collective action.

Anjuli Cameron, CEO of SEWA-AIFW and Ted Fong, Executive Director of AAUC, gave a presentation on the Minnesota Model of Cross-Sector Coalition Building.

Artificial intelligence emerged as another dominant topic. Presenters explored the responsible use of AI, demonstrating how newsrooms can use AI to improve research, transcription, translation, and production workflows while maintaining strict editorial oversight. The consensus was that AI should enhance, not replace, the judgment, ethics, and accountability of professional journalists.

The convention also highlighted the industry’s transition toward digital-first storytelling, with sessions examining video, podcasts, newsletters, mobile platforms, and social media strategies for reaching younger audiences. Speakers emphasized that while distribution platforms continue to evolve, strong reporting and compelling storytelling remain journalism’s greatest assets.

The opening session showcased the enduring value of investigative and local journalism through a discussion of the Baltimore Banner’s Pulitzer Prize-winning investigation into Baltimore’s overdose crisis. The panel demonstrated how local accountability reporting can expose systemic failures and create lasting public impact.

Other sessions focused on reporting with community expertise, encouraging journalists to build trust with the people they cover rather than simply reporting from outside their communities. Workshops on misinformation and verification provided practical tools for fact-checking, authenticating AI-generated images and videos, and strengthening public confidence through transparency and rigorous verification practices.

Recognizing the pressures facing today’s newsrooms, AAJA also devoted significant attention to journalist safety and resilience, addressing burnout, trauma, mental health, layoffs, and career sustainability in an increasingly demanding profession.

AAUC and Cambodian American Partnership of MN sponsored the Welcome Reception.

Veteran journalist Ann Curry was among the convention’s most influential voices. BOMBSHELL, the documentary she narrated, examined how the U.S. government shaped public narratives surrounding the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Following the screening, Curry joined director Ben Loeterman, producer Gaia De Simoni, photojournalist Darrell Miho, and moderator David Ono for a thoughtful discussion on historical framing, media responsibility, and the journalist’s obligation to pursue truth.

Curry also headlined the Gala Scholarship & Awards Banquet, where she received AAJA’s 2026 Visibility Award. In a conversation with MSNBC anchor Richard Lui, she reflected on identity, storytelling, and journalism’s public service mission. She urged journalists to fight for stories that matter most and reminded attendees that reporters must strive to be “worthy of a profession like journalism,” one that carries the profound responsibility of telling other people’s stories.

Closing the convention, outgoing AAJA President Nicole Dungca summarized the gathering’s purpose: “As the media industry continues to change rapidly, and journalism and democracy around the world are under pressure, AAJA’s role in supporting and connecting AAPI journalists is more necessary than ever.” Her remarks reflected the convention’s overarching message: while technology and newsrooms continue to evolve, journalism’s future will be defined by integrity, innovation, and trusted reporting.

Read AAJA’s coverage of the AAJA2026.

This Fourth of July held particular significance because it marked the nation’s 250th anniversary. Each year, Independence Day is observed through events that honor the founding of the United States. As Americans celebrated with fireworks and flags, immigrant families also reflected on the freedom to embrace both the country that offered them opportunity and the cultures that shaped their identity. This dual heritage is not a contradiction; it is one of America’s enduring strengths.

Every immigrant family carries two precious pieces of luggage: dreams for the future and memories of the past. The challenge and privilege is carrying both without leaving either behind. When I came to America, I was seeking more than better opportunities. Like millions of immigrants before me, my spouse and I pursued the American Dream: a life where hard work, education, and determination could open doors for our children and offer them possibilities beyond what we had imagined.

We also hoped our children would stay connected to their parents’ heritage. Rather than a burden, heritage is a foundation that helps young people build confidence in a changing world. When children understand their family’s history, they often develop a stronger sense of identity and resilience. They also come to appreciate sacrifice, perseverance, and gratitude as vital parts of the legacy they inherit.

Reflecting on my journey from India to America, I recognize that much of my life has been devoted to building bridges between two countries I deeply value. One gave me my roots; the other gave my family the opportunity to grow. Like many immigrants, I arrived in the United States carrying far more than a suitcase. I brought memories of family gatherings, vibrant festivals, deep respect for elders, and a belief that education and hard work can transform lives. These values became the foundation upon which we built our American dream.
In today’s rapidly evolving world, some believe that success in America requires immigrants to leave behind the customs, languages, and traditions of their homeland. I respectfully disagree. My experience has shown that the American Dream is most meaningful when immigrant families preserve their cultural heritage while fully embracing the values and opportunities of the United States.

As an immigrant from India who has spent decades building a life in America, I have experienced this balance firsthand. The United States provided my family with opportunities that previous generations could only envision, rewarding hard work, education, and perseverance. At the same time, the values that guided our journey—respect for elders, commitment to family, service to the community, and the importance of education—were deeply rooted in the culture we brought with us.

Parents have an important responsibility to preserve and pass forward these values. We want our children to succeed in their adopted country, excel academically, build meaningful careers, and participate fully in American life. At the same time, we hope they will understand their grandparents’ stories, honor family traditions, and appreciate the sacrifices that made their opportunities possible. This should not be seen as a choice between two identities, but as an opportunity to help our children embrace both with confidence.

During my return to India after nine years, I observed a country that had undergone substantial transformation. Modern highways, digital payment systems, and technological innovation were increasingly evident, while families continued to gather for festivals, honor elders, and preserve longstanding traditions. The visit underscored an important lesson: progress and heritage are not mutually exclusive; a society can advance while remaining firmly rooted in the cultural values that define it.

The same principle applies in the United States. Our children and grandchildren can thrive in one of the world’s most innovative nations while maintaining a meaningful connection to the cultures that shaped their families. Speaking another language, observing cultural traditions, or preparing traditional foods does not diminish one’s American identity. Rather, these practices contribute to the richness and strength of American society.
Throughout my years of community service, I have observed that cultural celebrations foster connection rather than division. When neighbors gain a deeper understanding of one another’s traditions, misconceptions diminish and meaningful relationships develop. In this way, diversity becomes more than an ideal; it becomes a shared and lived experience.

In today’s fast-paced digital environment, I am concerned that family stories are increasingly being displaced by social media, and that meaningful conversations around the dinner table are becoming less frequent. Heritage is not preserved by chance; it must be shared with intention. Parents and grandparents should not assume that the next generation will naturally absorb these values. We must tell our stories, explain our traditions, and actively invite our children to participate in them.

This responsibility does not rest solely with immigrant families. Schools, community organizations, and civic leaders also play an important role by promoting cultural understanding and creating environments in which every family’s history is recognized and valued. The American Dream has never required individuals to erase their past. Rather, it has invited them to contribute their talents, traditions, and aspirations to a nation shaped by immigrants from around the world. This remains one of America’s greatest strengths.
If we want future generations to be successful, compassionate, and grounded, we should not ask them to choose between their heritage and their American identity. Instead, we should encourage them to value both. These identities are not in conflict; they complement and strengthen one another. As I reflect on my own journey, I believe my generation did more than pursue opportunity—we built bridges between cultures. My hope is that our children will continue crossing those bridges with confidence and pride, carrying forward the best of both worlds. In my view, which is the American Dream worth preserving.

As the United States approaches the 250th anniversary of its independence, communities across the country are preparing to commemorate this historic milestone. Yet for many Asian Americans, the emotions surrounding this anniversary are complex. While the nation celebrates 250 years of freedom, democracy, and self-determination, Asian Americans continue to navigate the legacies of exclusion, unequal access to citizenship, and ongoing challenges related to immigration and belonging.

Asian presence in the United States dates back centuries, but for much of American history, Asians were legally barred from naturalization. The Chinese Exclusion Act, the Asiatic Barred Zone, and other discriminatory immigration policies prevented generations of Asian immigrants from becoming citizens, owning property, or fully participating in civic life. It was not until the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 that large-scale Asian immigration became possible, reshaping the demographic landscape of the country.

Today, Asian Americans are one of the fastest-growing racial groups in the United States. Yet many still face prolonged waits—sometimes decades long—to obtain permanent residency or citizenship due to quota backlogs. At the same time, recent ICE enforcement actions and heightened anxieties around immigration have created fear and uncertainty for many families. In this climate, the idea of celebrating 250 years of independence can feel emotionally complicated.

Still, this anniversary offers Asian Americans a powerful opportunity: to assert our belonging, highlight our contributions, and claim our place in the American story.

Asian Americans have shaped the nation in countless ways, building railroads, cultivating farms, serving in the military, advancing science and technology, enriching arts and culture, and strengthening communities. From early pioneers to today’s leaders in business, medicine, education, and public service, Asian Americans have helped define what America is and what it can become.

The 250th anniversary invites us to tell these stories boldly and unapologetically. It is a moment to remind the nation that Asian Americans are not newcomers to the American narrative—we are contributors, innovators, and bridge-builders whose experiences reflect both the struggles and the aspirations of the country.

AAUC, in partnership with other community organizations, is preparing a celebration later this year that will honor this dual reality: the pride of being part of America’s ongoing journey, and the responsibility to advocate for a more inclusive future. The event will highlight Asian American history, honor community leaders, and create space for dialogue about immigration, equity, and civic participation.

At a time when global conflicts and domestic tensions have subdued the national mood, Asian Americans can use this anniversary to promote unity, understanding, and shared purpose. We can uplift stories of resilience—of families who overcame exclusion, of immigrants who waited years for citizenship, of youth who are shaping the future with confidence and creativity.

Most importantly, we can affirm a simple truth: Asian Americans belong here. Our histories, our labor, our cultures, and our dreams are woven into the fabric of the nation. The 250th anniversary is not just a commemoration of the past, it is an invitation to shape the next chapter of America’s story.

The recent gathering held by Twin Cities Nonviolence was one of the most powerful community experiences I have been part of in a long time. What stood out most was not only the stories themselves, but the trust that formed among people who came from very different communities. Over the course of nearly five hours, through patient listening and honest storytelling, that trust grew stronger. By the end of the evening, it felt as if everyone in the room had taken a step closer to one another.

A Gathering Built on Civic Alignment and Shared Humanity

The meeting was organized around the 12 Practices of Civic Alignment. Instead of a single panel, each practice featured two or three speakers who shared how their communities responded to the recent ICE operations. The structure encouraged people to slow down, listen, and understand the experiences of others. It created a rhythm that allowed trust to build naturally.

Speakers talked about Operation Metro Surge and Operation PARRIS, and how these actions affected families across the Twin Cities. But the heart of the evening was not the operations themselves. It was the way communities responded — quickly, creatively, and with deep compassion.

The Weight of History at Fort Snelling

One of the most emotional parts of the gathering was the discussion about Fort Snelling. This is sacred Dakota land and a place marked by historical trauma. Hearing that ICE detainees, including U.S. citizens, were being held there again was painful for many. Native American speakers talked about how this reopened old wounds, but they also shared how their communities stepped forward to support immigrant families. Their presence reminded everyone that the struggles of today are connected to the struggles of the past.

Somali and African Communities Mobilizing with Compassion

Speakers from the Somali community described how fear spread quickly when ICE actions began. Families stayed indoors. Parents worried about sending their children to school. Elders were unsure whom to trust. But the community did not stay frozen. They organized phone trees, shared information, and created safe spaces where people could gather and learn about their rights.

Members of the African immigrant community shared similar stories. Churches, youth groups, and elders stepped in to help families navigate the uncertainty. They offered transportation, legal referrals, and emotional support. Their testimony showed how quickly communities can mobilize when they trust one another and when they feel responsible for one another’s safety.

Constitutional Observers and the Power of Presence

The constitutional observers offered a different perspective. They described monitoring ICE activity, documenting interactions, and making sure people’s rights were protected. Their presence was steady and calm. They were not there to confront anyone. They were there to witness, to record, and to make sure people were treated fairly. Their work became another example of nonviolence in action.

A Five-Hour Experience That Built Connection

What made the gathering so powerful was the time people gave to one another. Five hours of storytelling is not something we experience often. People stayed because they wanted to understand. They stayed because they cared. And as the evening went on, the room felt more connected. The trust that formed was not forced. It grew naturally through compassion, creativity, and the willingness to listen.

A Closing That Brought Everyone Together

The evening ended in a way that captured the spirit of the entire gathering. Everyone stood, joined hands, and sang the Beatles’ “All You Need Is Love,” which is also the theme song of Twin Cities Nonviolence. The simple act of holding hands and singing together made the feeling of connectedness even more immersive. It was a moment of warmth and unity that carried the message of the night into the heart.

Moving Forward Together

The gathering closed with a shared sense of purpose. Speakers talked about what is needed going forward: stronger cross-community coordination, trauma-informed support, legal education, and continued advocacy. But they also emphasized something deeper — the importance of staying connected. Trust is built through presence, honesty, and shared struggle. This gathering showed that when communities come together with open hearts, they can respond to fear with courage and to uncertainty with unity.

It was a reminder that nonviolence is not passive. It is active, steady, and rooted in the belief that every person deserves dignity and safety. And it showed that even in difficult times, people can choose compassion and connection.

Looking Ahead: Join Us at the June Unity Summit

We hope to carry the same spirit of trust and connection into the AAUC Unity Summit this June. We are excited to welcome St. Paul Mayor Kaohly Her, Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, and leaders from Twin Cities Nonviolence, Minnesota 8 (MN8), Center for Asian and Pacific Islanders (CAPI), Twin Cities Indivisible, Communities Organizing Power and Action for Latinos (COPAL), Asian Economic Development Association (AEDA), Coalition of Asian American Leaders (CAAL), Hmong American Partnership (HAP), SEWA–Asian Indian Family Wellness (SEWA-AIFW), the Minnesota Council of Nonprofits (MCN), and the Minnesota Council of Asian Americans (MNCAA).

This Summit brings together many of the voices shaping Minnesota’s civic landscape. It is a rare opportunity to learn, connect, and build momentum with leaders who are doing the work every day.

We invite you to explore the Summit and make plans to attend. Your presence will strengthen the community we are building together. This is the moment to step forward and rise with us in June. Visit Unity Summit event page.

At a time when communities across the nation are grappling with division, misinformation, and the lingering impact of past crises, the Asian American Unity Coalition (AAUC) is offering something rare: a hands-on, immersive, youth-centered experience designed not just to inspire, but to equip the next generation of leaders with the tools to build real, lasting coalitions.

On June 27–28, the AAUC Unity Summit returns with a bold theme, “From Crisis to Coalition.” Unlike traditional conferences that rely on panels and speeches alone, this Summit stands out for its experiential design. Participants won’t just hear about community challenges; they will step directly into the stories, neighborhoods, and lived experiences of those affected by one of the most consequential issues of the past decade: the impact of ICE enforcement on immigrant communities.

Register Today | Visit Event Page

A Bus Tour That Brings Reality Into Focus

Day 1 begins with a signature experience that sets this Summit apart: a guided bus tour to communities that were deeply affected by ICE actions. This is not a sightseeing trip. It is a moving classroom, one that brings participants face-to-face with the human consequences of policy, fear, and resilience. The visits include:

HmongTown Marketplace

Karmel Mall

DHH Church

Youth participants will meet local leaders, families, and advocates who lived through the crisis. They will hear how communities organized, supported one another, and fought to protect their neighbors. For many young attendees, this will be the first time they witness how grassroots leadership emerges in moments of urgency.

This immersive approach transforms abstract issues into personal understanding. It helps young people see that leadership is not theoretical—it is lived, practiced, and often born out of necessity.

Learning From Communities That Overcame Crisis

On Day 2, the Summit shifts from witnessing to learning. Participants will gather with community organizations that successfully navigated and overcame the challenges posed by ICE enforcement. These groups will share their strategies, missteps, and breakthroughs—offering a rare, honest look at what it takes to mobilize people, build trust, and sustain momentum.

This is where the Summit’s theme comes alive: crisis is not the end of the story. It can be the beginning of unity.

The Coalition Lab: A Major Life Skill for Youth Leaders

The highlight of Day 2 is the Coalition Lab, an interactive workshop where youth participants learn how to build coalitions—one of the most essential and overlooked leadership skills of our time.

In the Lab, students will:

• Practice identifying shared goals across diverse groups
• Learn how to navigate differences and build consensus
• Work through real-world scenarios drawn from the Day 1 community visits
• Collaborate with peers from different backgrounds, cultures, and perspectives

This is not a lecture. It is a hands-on, problem-solving environment where young people learn by doing. They leave not only inspired, but equipped—with practical tools they can use in school, community organizations, and future careers.

Why This Summit Matters Now

AAUC’s tagline—Diversity, Unity, Equality—captures the essence of the organization’s mission. In a time when many communities feel fragmented, the Summit offers a model for how to reconnect, collaborate, and build shared purpose.

For youth, the experience is transformative. They gain:

• A deeper understanding of community issues
• Direct exposure to grassroots leadership
• Practical coalition-building skills
• A network of peers and mentors
• A sense of agency and belonging

For community partners, the Summit is a chance to invest in the next generation of leaders who will shape the future of civic engagement.

A Call to Young Leaders

The AAUC Unity Summit is more than an event, it is a launchpad. It invites young people to step into their power, learn from real communities, and practice the skills that will define tomorrow’s leaders.

On June 27–28, the journey from crisis to coalition begins. The only question is: Will you be on the bus?

Register Today | Visit Event Page

Vietnam

Hanna began with Vietnam, the war that perhaps most durably shaped the Americans’ pessimistic view of war and later the demographic map of cities across the U.S. “First, you have the justification, which was to stop the spread of communism,” Jack said. “Then you have escalation, and then came the overwhelming military deployments.” Millions of soldiers and civilians died. The Khmer Rouge’s rise and the resulting killing fields became a catastrophe in itself, claiming two million Cambodian lives. This produced its own wave of refugees in the years that followed.

“Once you go into a country that is not your own to fight a war, you have to develop alliances and relationships with the people in the community there,” Hanna said. “And if you lose the war and retreat, those people are at risk.” The obligation to those allies was real, he argued, but the plan to honor it was almost entirely absent. “We had no specific plan how to assist them thereafter.”

What emerged from that failure of planning was the U.S. Refugee Act of 1980 and the creation of the Office of Refugee Resettlement, the modern framework for absorbing displaced populations, built not from foresight but from a moral reckoning after the fact. “That began the system, so to speak, of how we have these immigrants come to the United States and be absorbed and acclimated,” The system has improved over the decades, he acknowledged, but it remains far short of what a best-case response would look like.

Somalia

Somalia, Hanna said, represented a somewhat different kind of intervention, one driven as much by humanitarian crisis as by ideology. A devastating famine and a civil war had torn the country apart by the early 1990s, and the United States entered in 1992 ostensibly to stabilize the situation. But he was careful not to reduce it to simple altruism. “Many times there are other factors involved that are above and beyond just ideological political matters, including corruption, including famine, and other countries’ ulterior motives for their own political and economic purposes.”

The result was nearly 98,000 Somali immigrants eventually making their way to the United States, with the largest concentration settling in Minnesota, a fact that would loom over the broader discussion of the ICE incursions (the topic that AAUC upcoming summit in Minneapolis plans to address). What distinguished the Somali community, he argued, was the degree to which it had organized itself. “There was a high rate of naturalization that occurred for them, and that is very, very unique, and I think a reflection of the strength of the self-organization that the community has gone through.” It was a point that would echo later, when Kim Sin held up the Somali community as a model his own Cambodian community was still striving to emulate.

Iraq and Afghanistan

Hanna grouped the post-9/11 wars in Iraq and Afghanistan together, not because they were identical, but because they shared a common origin point and a common pattern of consequences. Both were launched in the wake of September 11, 2001, though the justifications diverged sharply.

The Iraq War, he said, was sold to the American public and to Congress on the claim that Saddam Hussein possessed weapons of mass destruction. “Did not exist,” Hanna said flatly. “A complete failure as far as the justification is concerned.” The humanitarian consequences were staggering: over 600,000 Iraqis killed, millions more displaced. American forces withdrew in 2011, only to return in 2013 and 2014 when the vacuum they left was filled by ISIS. “We still have about 2,000 troops there,” he noted, a presence that continues without a clear endgame, two decades after the original invasion.

Afghanistan presented what Hanna called a more defensible justification, given Al-Qaeda’s operational presence there following 9/11. But the outcome was similarly grim. Over 100,000 Afghan civilians died, along with 2,400 Americans. And the withdrawal, when it finally came in August 2021, was chaotic. The Taliban moved swiftly to consolidate power, and the Afghans who had spent years cooperating with American forces — translators, administrators, soldiers, civil society leaders — were left acutely exposed. “The consequence was disastrous,” Hanna said. “And we still suffer the consequences of that political, economic, and military defeat.”

More than 190,000 Afghans eventually immigrated to the United States on the grounds that they had assisted American efforts and that the U.S. bore a moral and legal obligation to protect them from Taliban retribution. But Hanna argued that obligation has since been abandoned. “Sadly, in my opinion, America has failed with regard to the obligations it has to the Afghans,” he said. “And now is not letting any of them in, and just this past week has decided to send them to the Congo.”

Syria

Hanna saved Syria for last, describing it as personal as it is the country of his own heritage. A civil war that ground on from 2011 to 2025 produced what he called one of the largest refugee crises in recent history: 13 million people displaced, 7 million of them driven across international borders. “It was one of the largest groups of refugees since WWII,” he said. The United States absorbed approximately 50,000 of those community members, a fraction of the total, and a number that has now effectively been reduced to zero under the current administration. “That has been practically completely terminated,” Hanna said, “as it is with the Afghans, since the new administration has come into power.”

Taken together, he argued, these four cases, and the dozens of other interventions that Fong would display in a closing slide, reveal something important about the relationship between American foreign policy and American demographics. “These are just some of the examples of what’s occurred in the past,” Hanna said. “There are common experiences. America goes into these wars, and what are the consequences of us leaving — and in many instances having failed military efforts — and the refugees and immigrants it creates? The lessons are there, if we choose to learn from them.”

Kim Sin’s Story

After Jack provided the historical context, the town hall’s guest speaker offered the human story behind it. Kim Sin is the co-founder of the Cambodian American Partnership of Minnesota and a longtime community advocate based in Rochester. He was three years old when his family fled Cambodia.

Describing his earliest memories of the camp on the Thai-Cambodian border, he said, “I thought that was my home. Then I got very curious, wanting to know why I could not leave the barbed wire fence.” His mother’s answer came slowly and heavily, Cambodia was under the Khmer Rouge, and because his father had been a soldier, the entire family would have been executed had they stayed. “My family had to take a risk and escape,” Sin said. “All the educated, all the wealthy, all the people with knowledge were executed because they were considered a risk and a rebellion against the new government. That’s why we are here.”

Sin spent three years moving between camps before being flown to the Philippines for six months of medical screening and processing. The camps were orderly in their way, governed by permission slips and barbed wire, rationed food and routine uncertainty. “Me and my sister would have to line up, holding the same bowl, and we would get a rice porridge,” he recalled. “My mom would sit in the sun, waiting for food distribution.” There was no school. There was no stability. There was only the next camp, and then the next.

Aid workers showed refugees American films, glimpses of a country that seemed almost fantastical. “It showed, like, it was heaven on earth,” Sin said with a laugh. “Big houses, mansions, luxury cars. I was just praying to come to the U.S.” He paused. “When I got to the U.S., the perspective that Hollywood portrayed was not the way that I imagined.”

Arriving in America

Kim was six years old when he landed in Rochester, Minnesota, speaking not a word of English. The support systems of the early 1980s were, by his account, almost nonexistent. “We didn’t have a really supported system in place back in the early 80s,” he said. “It was new to the U.S. government, they didn’t even have any structure.”

Families were required to report to government offices every three months to maintain healthcare and cash assistance, with little guidance on how to navigate those bureaucracies. Transportation was a constant problem. “We didn’t know how to use a taxi. We didn’t know how to use the transportation that a city offers. There was no one to help and guide our community.” Grocery stores were out of reach. The housing they were placed in was cheap, but it was also isolated. “They kind of threw us into a community,” Sin said. “They put us in the worst of the worst.”

Those who needed help getting to a doctor’s appointment had to pay out of pocket for assistance, a crushing burden. “If you had six people in your family, you’d have to pay more. The most would be $100, the least $40. But back in the 80s, that was a lot of money.” Even small costs added up to impossible math for families with no income, no language, and no map of the system they’d landed in.

And then there was the matter of who Sin was at home versus who he was expected to become at school. “I had to live in two cultures,” he said. “My parents were trying to pull me not to stray away from Cambodian culture, but at school, my peers, the environment — it was pulling me to live and be an American. It was very, very tough.”

The Weight That Carries Forward

Fong asked Sin to explain intergenerational trauma, which comes up in a lot of conversations he has with the Southeast Asian American community.

“A lot of the parents and grandparents were experiencing the Khmer Rouge War,” he said. “They saw people getting killed in front of them, family members executed in front of them. So coming to a new country, even though the kids are growing up here or born here, there’s a lot of restrictions.” The fear that had kept parents alive in Cambodia, including hypervigilance, secrecy, distrust, followed them into American living rooms and didn’t know how to stop. “The trauma of their past experience during the Khmer Rouge War carried on with them.”

When children pushed back, as American children do, parents often couldn’t distinguish normal adolescent independence from genuine danger. “They fear of losing their kid. They hear about kidnapping, people getting murdered in America. So the trauma just keeps going.” The result was a growing distance between generations, and within that distance, damage. “There’s a gap that keeps on pushing and pushing, and there’s tension, and there’s abuse in that, where the father feels the kid is not giving them respect. And when they come to a new country, the respect is gone.”

Fathers who had been engineers, lawyers, or government officials in Cambodia arrived in America to find that none of it transferred. “Doctors, lawyers, engineers — when they come here, they end up cleaning toilets, doing housekeeping work, because their status in Cambodia did not carry over,” Sin said. “Knowing that their status as a toilet cleaner is an embarrassment for them, it was tough. They feel degraded.” Without professional standing, without language, without a pathway back to the life they had known, some turned to alcohol, gambling, or worse. Their children watched. “Parents become alcoholic, they have gambling issues, and that makes it harder for the younger generation — they’re being pulled and prevented from moving on.”

Yen Marshall, the AAUC’s board president, joined the conversation. She and her family fled Vietnam by boat. “Depending on how we left that situation, we have a different view on how to kind of move forward,” she said. But she also described a dynamic that played out in households across every immigrant community on the call: children who learned English faster than their parents suddenly found the family’s power structure quietly, uncomfortably reversed. “In a short time, your kids know more than you, they’d be your translator when you go and ask for help. With that table turned around, the frustration builds, and when they’re not doing things the way that you feel they should, the conflict inside the house is huge.” Her father, who had run his own business in Vietnam and employed multiple people, arrived in America washing dishes in a restaurant. The shame and disorientation of that fall, she said, had nowhere to go. “There’s no way for them to communicate it out.”

The consequences showed up in statistics that still trouble Sin today. “In the 80s and 90s, there was a high number of suicides. We see a lot of young generation, they shot themselves, they couldn’t deal with the issues at home.” Girls dropped out of school, became pregnant in junior high. Boys joined gangs. “They were using a high number of drugs that was causing them to be suicidal, and some of them overdosed. Some of them died in their cars, sleeping in the car.” He paused. “That was a big issue within our community.”

Fong asked about the comparison to other Southeast Asian immigrant communities and whether Cambodians had fared differently than Vietnamese or Hmong Americans. Sin didn’t soften his answer. “We are considered the lowest and least educated community. The last time I got the report, 58% of Cambodians are failing in school.” He attributed part of this to a wound that is uniquely Cambodian.

Michael Siv, a Sacramento-based advocate and filmmaker whose own family fled Cambodia, joined the conversation, offering this grim distinction, “The Khmer Rouge is our own people. A quarter of the population massacred. There’s not a lot of dialogue about when your own kind just massacred your whole country.” He drew a pointed contrast with other refugee communities. “The Hmong can blame America, they can blame Laos or the Vietnamese government. But for Cambodians, nobody really talks about it. Your own people pretty much just massacred your whole country. So, there’s a mistrust in creating that conversation.” That silence, he argued, has made the communal reckoning necessary for healing almost impossible to begin, and has contributed to a fragmentation that distinguishes the Cambodian American experience from that of other Southeast Asian communities. Sin agreed: “It’s very hard and emotional for the elderly to share. A lot of tears. A lot of complication. We try, slowly, to get them to share their feeling about their past.”

What Healing Looks Like

Fong turned the conversation toward recovery, asking what communities and organizations are doing to address the psychological burden carried across generations. The responses from around the call converged on a single word: community.

Charlene Reyes, 19, a Sacramento member of the youth organization Young and Rooted and the daughter of immigrant parents said, “I can’t say much about what the older generation is doing to find healing,” she said. “But I know that even in the younger generation, kids my age, kids younger than me, they are affected by our parents’ past and the trauma they went through. It’ll always be with us, throughout the generations.” What has helped, she said, is simply not being alone in it. “A lot of kids of immigrants — I’m first generation, my mom was an immigrant, my dad’s an immigrant — it shows that there’s a lot of people, a lot of kids, that have parents that are like that. I’ve seen it help a lot of these kids. I’ve seen it help myself. To know that we all have the same sort of struggles, similar enough that we can understand each other without even talking about it.”

Yen Marshall echoed that, drawing on her own experience as a boat refugee from Vietnam. She described a particular burden that many first-generation immigrants carry but rarely name: survivor’s guilt. “A lot of people died on that journey leaving,” she said. “Being the survivors, we felt very lucky already. But what about all those who died and couldn’t make it?” That guilt, she argued, became a kind of fuel. “Part of the immigrants, the generation that came here, felt that it was their responsibility to make a difference, not just in their own lives, their family, but the community surrounding them.” Building up the community, she said, was how many first-generation immigrants processed what they had survived. But communication remained the great obstacle. The trauma left people frustrated and inarticulate, unable to express what they carried. “There’s no way for them to communicate it out.”

What she came back to, ultimately, was the same thing Charlene had said, and the same thing Kim Sin had said: the need for places where people can simply be together without explaining themselves. “Community is a place to unwind, to reconnect, to take a breather — even from your own family,” Marshall said. “Building a strong community where new immigrants, or even older immigrants who’ve been here for a while, can reach out and lean on you — I think that’s one of the best ways to move forward.”

Building the Basket Back

Sin closed the meeting with a message that was honest about the scale of the problem and clear-eyed about what it will take. The Cambodian community, he said, is like “a broken basket, we’re trying to weave that basket back together, but it’s just hard to pull that bamboo string back. It’s going to take many, many generations.”

His own model of leadership, he explained, is rooted in this: “I don’t need your money, but I need your participation. That’s the difference.” Through the Rochester Cultural Center, which he helped found, and through his work connecting with Somali, Vietnamese, and Hmong leaders across Minnesota, he has been studying what makes other communities resilient. “I see why they are so successful. It’s because they know how to support each other. And that’s what our Cambodian community needs.”

He saved his most direct words for the broader audience — for the non-immigrants and policymakers and fellow advocates on the call. “It’s hard to live in a situation where your family’s not educated, where your family doesn’t have the resources. We need to help them in a way that lets them move forward and be able to live the American dream.” He thanked AAUC for reaching out and asking the simple question: what can we do to help your community? “Coming together is so important,” Sin said. “I’m just one person. But how do I build new leadership. That is the challenge I see.”

In closing, Fong reinforced a broader argument that America has never fully accounted for the human cost of its foreign wars. A slide he shared at the close of the session catalogued dozens of military interventions over the past 60 years, from the Dominican Republic in 1965 to the current conflict in Iran. He called it, with sarcasm, “the U.S. military resume.” “We don’t really factor in the cost of refugee displacement when we enter these wars,” he said. “Each of these has produced displaced populations, people with varied stories and circumstances, coming to America.”

April 27, 2026

The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500

Subject: Formal Protest of the Rhetoric Harmful to Asian American Communities and Our National Interests

Dear Sir/Madam –

We, the Asian American Unity Coalition (AAUC), representing Indian American, Chinese American, and broader Asian American communities, issue this formal letter of protest in response to the rhetoric endorsed by the White House on April 23, 2026.

The promotion of Michael Savage’s remarks, which characterize India as a “hellhole” and suggest that legal and birthright citizenship for Asian Americans are tools of subversion, represent more than a political disagreement. It is a direct assault on the dignity of millions of citizens and a strategic blunder that undermines the economic and national security of the United States.

The Economic Reality vs. The Rhetoric of Exclusion

The claim that Indian and Chinese immigrants lack English proficiency or engage in exclusionary hiring practices is demonstrably false. Indian Americans have the highest median household income of any ethnic group in the U.S. (approximately $150,000), and Chinese Americans contribute significantly to a STEM workforce that drives American innovation. The technologies created by these groups, especially in the Silicon Valley, are keeping our country on the top of the technology ladder. To disparage the very demographic that forms the backbone of the U.S. technology sector at a time when global competition for talent is at its peak is an act of economic self-sabotage.

The “Great Talent Flip” and National Security

By signaling that legal residency and birthright citizenship are no longer secure, this administration is accelerating “The Great Talent Flip.” When the “Individual Survival Rubric” for highly skilled professionals includes facing state-sanctioned xenophobia, the United States ceases to be the world’s premier destination for innovation. This hostility serves as a recruitment tool for our competitors, driving top-tier talent toward China and other emerging powers, and ensuring that the next generation of breakthroughs happens outside our borders.

The Middle Power Paradox and Diplomatic Erosion

The description of India, a critical strategic partner, as a “hellhole” creates an untenable “Middle Power Paradox.” The administration cannot expect to tether middle powers to U.S. interests while simultaneously insulting their sovereignty and their diaspora. Such rhetoric increases the “Cost of Strategic Alignment” for our allies, forcing them to seek sovereignty through non-alignment or regional blocs, thereby hastening a “Hegemonic Sunset” where American influence is diminished.

The Undermining of the American “Source Code”

The attack on birthright citizenship is an attack on the “Civilizational Source Code” of the United States. For over a century, the guarantee of citizenship by birth has been the bedrock of American social cohesion. To suggest that the children of immigrants are “anchor babies” creates a climate of “Tactical Chaos,” where legal residents are left to wonder if the rules of the game will be rewritten overnight. This does not “Restore the Rule of Law.” It replaces it with ideological exclusion.

Conclusion

We demand an immediate retraction of these endorsements and a formal apology to the Indian and Chinese American communities. We also call upon the mainstream media to rigorously fact-check these claims and highlight the catastrophic long-term risks of driving global talent away from our shores.

The “2026 Economic Shift” should be defined by American excellence and strategic coherence, not by tactical chaos and the alienation of our most productive citizens. We are not “guests” in this country, we are the infrastructure of its future.

Sincerely,

Yen Marshall
President
Asian American Unity Coalition

Dr. SK Lo
Board Chair
Asian American Unity Coalition