Student from Commack honored at Sheriff’s office

Named Sandy Hook Promise “Ambassador for the Day”

On May 6, Sheriff Errol Toulon Jr. hosted 11^th grade Commack High School Student Melody Luo as his “Ambassador for the Day” Sandy Hook Promise Essay Contest Winner. This annual essay contest was held as part of the Sheriff’s Office’s collaboration with the Sandy Hook Promise Foundation. Melody wrote a heartfelt essay about her Asian heritage, the rise in violence against the Asian community, and a culture of silence that she attributes to why hate crimes, bullying and harassment are underreported in the Asian community. Her essay is attached below.

Melody read her winning essay during a celebratory breakfast at the Yaphank Facility with Sheriff Toulon and staff members. Afterwards, Melody received greetings from the Sandy Hook Promise Foundation, received a certificate, and engaged in discussion with officers about Sandy Hook Promise’s initiatives and anti-Asian violence. She and her mother, Lynn, also took a tour of the jail and the START Resource Center.

The winning contest essays were announced by Sheriff Toulon in March and Melody took first place out of 91 submissions from seven school districts.

Sheriff Toulon also sat down with Melody to interview her for “A New Perspective,” a new show produced by the Suffolk County Sheriff’s Office for YouTube and government access television stations. They discussed bullying and anti-Asian violence and how it affects students of all ages.

“Melody is an asset to the Commack School District and the Suffolk County Community. She is a bright, insightful young woman and I was proud to name her “Ambassador for the Day,” said Sheriff Toulon. “We can learn a lot by speaking with our younger generations, and I am honored to have had the opportunity to speak with her today.”

For more information on the collaboration between the Sandy Hook Promise Foundation and the Suffolk County Sheriff’s Office, please visit www.SuffolkSheriff.com and click on “Community and School Programs.”

The following is the text of Melody Luo’s winning essay:

Weary of being cooped up inside, an 84-year-old Thai man was eager to leave his house and go on his regular morning walk. He stepped out into the chilly San Francisco weather around 8:28 AM on January 28, 2021, for what would unknowingly be his last time. An hour later, he was slammed into the ground by a man–to whom he had no relation–that barreled into him at full speed. The 84-year-old, at a height of 5 feet and 6 inches and a weight of 113 pounds, died from a brain hemorrhage in the hospital two days later. His name was Vicha Ratanapakdee.

On the opposite coast, in the previous year, an 89-year-old Chinese woman was slapped in the face and set on fire in Brooklyn, New York by two assaulters to whom she—once again–had never met prior to the encounter. The woman, who rightfully chose to remain unidentified to the public eye, was reluctant to report the attack to the police, seeing that she could only speak in Cantonese. It wasn’t until her family urged her to come forward that she chose to do so.

In the eyes of these elderly people, I see my own grandparents, who are well over the age of 70. We spend our Saturdays eating extravagant dinners and singing karaoke, (rather badly, if I may add). As the evening draws to a close, we say our goodbyes and await the next week in anticipation. There’s never a doubt in my mind that we will meet the following week, but then again, there was never a doubt in the minds of the victims’ families either. In every single news article I read and in every single attack I discuss with my friends in casual conversation, my mind inches towards the inevitable: is it a question of if a loved one gets attacked, or when?

These events are only a select few examples of the recent surge in hate crimes against the Asian-American community. Over the course of the past year, such attacks against us have increased by 1900%, and yet, they are rarely ever broadcasted on mainstream media nor talked about by people in prominent positions of power. Silence. Worse than silence, perhaps, is the unrelenting stigma perpetuated by a number of such aforementioned figures, the most influential of which being politicians.

“Chinese Virus.”

“Kung-flu.”

“Bat-eaters.”

All names coined to shift blame for a disease onto an entire ethnicity of people that suffered from COVID-19 in the same ways the rest of the world did; all names that I have heard first-hand thrown at any person with a semblance of East Asian descent within the United States.

For the most part, we remained silent.

I think back to what my culture teaches us when facing the world. From a young age, I learned to never speak back to elders, this being inclusive of my parents, my family members, my teachers, and more. In turn, I’ve seen this manifest into a culture of people that try their best to avoid confrontation. We, as Asian-Americans, are stereotypically acknowledged to be submissive in a world dominated by opinionated leaders. This is especially prominent in our government, as our representation is next to non-existent. Out of 435 congressional representatives, only thirteen are members of the Asian American/Pacific Islander community.

On top of that, all thirteen represent a range of only five states: California, New York, Florida, Illinois, and Washington. That being said, this representation is a start. On September 17, 2020, House Resolution 908, proposed by Congresswoman Grace Meng of the sixth congressional district of New York, was passed by a vote of 243 to 164. This resolution called for public officials to “condemn and denounce anti-Asian sentiment, racism, discrimination, and religious intolerance related to COVID-19…and [for] federal officials to expeditiously investigate and document all credible reports of hate crimes and incidents and threats against the Asian-American community”. In this instance, action and advocacy have proved to the world that we will not stand by and endure its prejudice.

There comes a point where our silence holds the same level of evil as the perpetrator. We cannot be bystanders to the inequity thrown upon our friends of color and we cannot be bystanders to the attacks thrown upon ourselves. I’d like to take this time to remind all people of color that we are not in competition with one another, but rather the overarching racism instilled in the thick roots of our world. To pluck these roots we must not simply hear the words spoken by our counterparts, but genuinely listen. We must not single out the wilting plants from each other’s’ communities and generalize the entire neighborhood based on that, but rather water each other’s plants with the gifts of knowledge and empathy. From there, and only from there, may we adequately speak through the sound of silence.

In my own life, I do my best to combat prejudice by using my voice. I joined my school’s political activists club, partook in conversations with various members of the House of Representatives, and frequently debate everyday events with peers. More often than not, I hear that the youth of the country should not be criticizing the government nor engaging in political disputes. I heavily disagree, as in order to bring forward aspects of understanding, we need to communicate with and stand up for one another.

Silence has become a deadly weapon yielded in the hands of the privileged and I refuse to be complicit.