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Ronald Choi’s parents had migrated to Los Angeles from Hong Kong when he was three. His parents spoke English at home because they thought raising Ronald and his sister in English would eventually give them better job opportunities. And job opportunities were what it was all about, as Ronald’s mother often said.
“The trouble with being Chinese-American is that people expect you to know Chinese,” Ronald often thought. “And they expect you to like rice and to date only Chinese girls. And they think you can do well in school without studying because it is in your genes or something.” He scowled. “And they make you major in engineering because it has ‘good prospects.’”
Ronald Choi hated everything about engineering. The math was boring. The foreign professors were incomprehensible —especially the Chinese and Indian ones. And the students were dweebs. But there wasn’t much hope of changing majors. Ronald’s father was an engineer, and that was why his mother had married him: as an engineer, Father had had good prospects. (Sometimes Ronald hated his father too.)
Hatred for engineering was one of Ronald’s most common thoughts as he trudged back from class. When he arrived at the res hall, his suite mate Herman was getting ready for a “civil rights” rally.
“Hey, it’s Ronald McSoy-Sauce,” said Herman. “How’s it goin’ Big Mac? Wanna come over to the student center? We’re having a rally to protest the use of grades and test scores in admissions.”
“What else would you use for admissions? What’s the matter with grades and test scores?” asked Ronald wearily.
“‘Comprehensive Read’ is the order of the day,” Herman told him. “It means they ignore your scores and you just tell them you worked in the John Paul Ghetto Center for the Blind and you’re in.”
“I didn’t know there was a ‘John Paul Ghetto Center for the Blind,’” said Ronald. “Besides, it’s probably Getty, like the museum.”
“Whatever. You just make something up like that and they let you in.” Herman dropped into an exaggerated Black accent as he continued: “And anyway everybody knows us Black people don’t do well on tests the way you Chineeeese do.”
“No scores, just lies,” said Ronald, annoyed. “You try to get everything by lying.”
“Hey, man. We can’t all be Chinese geniuses. Besides, we already have too many Chinese in the university. Comprehensive Read is how we are going to get in some Blacks and Latinos. But now the regents are talking about dumping it and just doing grades and test scores again. That’s what the rally’s about. We want the return of Affirmative Action.”
Over the past few months Ronald Choi had heard about as much as he needed to hear about Affirmative Action and the special value of this or that ethnic group. If somebody wanted affirmative action for Chinese-Americans he might get interested. Instead, all they wanted to do was to get Asians out of the place.
“I think you’re disgusting,” said Ronald. “If people are too damned stupid to get into the university on the basis of their test scores, they should stay the hell out.”
“You think everything’s disgusting, McSoy-Sauce. And besides, you’re a racist. Sometimes you really piss me off.”
“Say that again and I’ll pour glue on your computer,” Ronald answered.
“And then I’ll have to break your ugly face.” Herman’s eyes narrowed. “And I’d really enjoy doin’ it, too. I’m out of here now, McSoy-Sauce.” Herman walked out and slammed the door.
“God, I hate that Black bastard,” thought Ronald as he headed toward his room to begin his homework.”
“God, I hate that Chinese bastard,” thought Herman as he headed toward the student center.
Both students are misinformed about UC admissions. They also obviously don’t agree with each other, and they don’t seem to be communicating very well.
The next day Ronald went to the Assistant Res Dean and filed a complaint that Herman kept using racist slurs, and that he found this offensive. And he asked if one of them could be moved to a different suite.
“Oh, get a life!” responded the Assistant Res Dean. “If you want to go around being offended by something, go be offended by the fact people are dying of preventable diseases in the slums because they can’t afford a dime for a treatment. Now that’s offensive! So your roommate’s a jerk. So what? There are bigger problems in the world.”
Having delivered that little speech —the standard response to roommate problems— the Assistant Res Dean turned back to the desk full of papers. Ronald headed toward the library.