As Asian American women, we’re acutely aware of the disturbing realities faced by Asian American and Pacific Islander (AAPI) people in the United States: Racism, violence, xenophobia, misogyny, and the fetishization of Asian women are all problems we have to deal with. After the Atlanta murders of AAPI women in March, the two of us started processing these issues, each in our own way. But then we connected on Instagram through the BikePOCPNW group. We started to feed off each other’s energy from afar.
As our conversations evolved, we were inspired to organize and lead bike rides for the AAPI communities in our home cities, Seattle and Portland. We wanted to create a space of healing by bringing Asian Americans together in a visible way. We chose bikes because they stir up common feelings of empowerment, strength, and joy among riders. Here’s how we came to that decision, and how you can draw on our experience to create your own solidarity ride.
SEATTLE COMMUNITY RIDE: Kae-Lin Wang
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My Taiwanese mother was widowed when I was 8 years old; she spent most of my childhood working nights to make sure we had frozen dinners available and a roof over our heads. After my dad died and we moved to Texas from Massachusetts, I started to unconsciously assimilate into white culture. I was losing a sense of my racial identity and community, socializing with mostly white friends, and seeing whiteness as superior.
The Atlanta shootings on March 16, 2021, flipped my world upside down. I started unfolding my entire racial identity. What resurfaced was all the family trauma and racism that I’d been suppressing my whole life as I tried to fly under the radar.
I realized that I had diminished myself so much as an Asian American that I was severely lacking in close Asian friends. I decided to put together a bike ride for the AAPI community in Seattle because I needed to be surrounded by my people during this time. I wanted to feel seen and supported. I chose bikes because they’re a vehicle for change and for bringing people together. Plus, it’s easy for folks on bikes to feel comfortable being themselves around new people. Mostly, I’m just super obsessed with bikes right now!
I was first inspired by Ron Holden, another All-City sponsored rider, who started Ride for Black Lives in Los Angeles during the pandemic last summer. Hearing Ron speak about his passion for the community was infectious. I had always wanted to organize a ride but felt I wasn’t experienced or educated enough to start one myself. But I knew it had to happen in Seattle. My idea was to create a safe healing space for the AAPI community where people could use bicycles as a unifying force and build genuine connections by meeting people where they were.
The evening of the ride, I felt more pride in my own race and identity than I ever have before. Around 40 riders showed up to do a very chill five-mile ride to a nearby park. People of all skill levels rode all kinds of bikes—road, gravel, mountain, e-bike—and came together because we had our racial identities in common, seeking support and healing from each other. I felt so seen, cared for, and supported by my own community. This ride was the spark of something more; it was only the beginning of our healing journey.
PORTLAND SOLIDARITY RIDE: Nikki Margarita
I am a first-generation Filipino American who arrived in New York City in the late 1980s. I grew up with a religious family dynamic that taught me to be insignificant and insufficient. Yet at the same time, it formed me into an incredibly empathetic person. My multigenerational Pinoy family always asked those who entered our home, “Did you eat?”
My relationship with being Filipino and American is complicated. It took me years to learn how to process my identity in a remotely healthy way. In fact, anything I do outwardly at this stage of my life feels like an act of healing. I had to break away from taught prejudices against LGBTQ communities, break down my own body dysmorphia and fatphobia, and unlearn that anti-Blackness that was very much normalized at home. There is this often-unspoken entanglement between racism against Asians and Asians who are racist. We need to confront this before we can effectively work toward any real liberation or solidarity.
My relationship with biking began around the start of the pandemic. In the heat of the summer 2020 protests, thousands were demanding justice for Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd. (Protests and mutual aid efforts are still ongoing in Portland.) The Black Girls Do Bike Community Ride last summer inspired me. I witnessed the beauty of how the city came together, and I hoped that a solidarity ride for AAPI would help my community find folks who are feeling the same things. Plus, I wanted to organize something around what I already felt good about and enjoyed—bikes. I’ve learned that there is a sense of significance in collectively experiencing something new, while being unmistakably “seen” at the same time. At least in Portland, you rarely notice Asian cyclists going down the street. And riding a bike makes me feel visible, contemplative, and expressive. These are the kinds of feelings I often had to suppress when I was younger. I felt that other Asians like me were searching for that same intentional space—the space to be fully ourselves while finding a way to process the violence against people who look like us.
“Wanna plan a solidarity ride?” was what I DM’d Will Cortez from BikePOCPNW, a Portland-based BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) community riding group, on an Instagram story the group shared about the Atlanta spa shootings. He answered with a swift, affirming “yes.” Within minutes, I reached out to the rest of the group for support in laying the groundwork for planning—because even though I am an initiator, this is not work you do alone. We had two weeks to mobilize, delegate, and get the word out. Midway, I asked Molly Sugar from Friends on Bikes, a group I’ve admired since I first heard about them years ago, to take on a co-organizing role. In a short time, we had managed to assemble everything we needed and garnered enough support to offer this ride to Portland’s AAPI community.
Folks started slowly riding to the starting point at Laurelhurst Park and packed the area underneath the trees. About 300 of us rode off and filled the streets for blocks. I overheard people say, “I have never seen this many Asians riding bicycles!” At the front, spirited kids, families, and elders led the way ringing their bells; poignant homemade signs were fastened to their bikes. The sun got everyone out that day, outdoor diners and pedestrians cheered us on, and we even convinced commuting cyclists to join. At one point I heard my name and realized a friend I hadn’t seen since summer was there with their kid. I exclaimed and felt so much love and excitement at that moment. There were a lot of joys like that along the ride. Every time I look back, I am floored by the willingness and tenderness folks displayed to make it happen.
Planning Your Own Community Ride
If you’ve been despairing over senseless hate and violence, we hope our story inspires you to organize or join rides in your own community as a way to heal.
Here are some tips to help you take the initiative to plan your own community or solidarity ride.
Before the Ride
Make your messaging clear on who, why, and what the ride is for.
Set the tone of the ride early on. Ask yourself why you’re organizing the ride, and who it’s for. For example, the Portland ride was open to communities of color while centering on Asian cyclists, and the Seattle ride specifically welcomed AAPI-identifying people. Though each ride had a different approach, both rides held affinity space for each other and built connections.
Create a concise flyer with important information on it and spread the word via social media, bike forums, and word of mouth! Consider the labor of the creative people who make your artwork or graphics. Reach out to your local artists and pay them! Don’t forget to add descriptions to your images to make them accessible.
Plan a route and provide details so riders know what to expect.
Be as upfront and clear as possible. Establish a meeting time, location, mileage, and departure time. Brainstorm a safe route, and practice the ride ahead of time if possible. We suggest a loop route so that people who drive in will end up back at the start, near parking. Consider kids and novice riders when planning mileage and elevation. Something under 15 miles and 90 minutes is about the max for newer riders. Decide if you want to stay on trails to avoid cars, or ride in the street to have space to spread out and take the lane. Remind riders to bring bike lights, snacks, and layers.
During the Ride
Designating roles is key!
Reach out to your community and ask for support—folks will most likely be happy to help. Ahead of time, coordinate multiple leaders, floaters, corkers (people to help block intersections), medics, and sweepers to manage group size and keep the flow of the ride. Consider splitting the group up into smaller sections if that makes the event easier to manage. Implementing a “no drop” could mean waiting at quieter intersections so the back can catch up. Walkie-talkies help with notifying leads on any issues. It’s also a good idea to have a mechanic on hand to help with minor bike issues.
Address the crowd.
Emphasize why everyone is gathered and acknowledge the ancestral lands where the group is recreating. A rundown of safety and hand signals is also helpful for interacting with cars or other riders. Give an overview of the route and note any breaks and areas to regroup. Create an open communication so riders feel comfortable speaking up if they feel uneasy about anything.
Enjoy the ride and one another’s company.
Take up space! As soon as we started riding, we noticed that the stress of the planning completely disappeared. That’s what’s so special about riding a bike—it makes you feel like a kid again. We’ve also noticed that riding helps bring people out of their shell, and they’re more open to meeting new people and making connections.
After the Ride
Debrief. Reflect. Ride on.
At the end of the ride, take a moment to ground yourself in what happened. Designate an organizer to give a brief message or short reading, which will help spark post-ride conversations. Be open to difficult conversations. Reflect with one another and listen. Talk in the moment or chat online. Acknowledging fear and violence is uncomfortable, but it’s a necessary practice in seeking healing. Be open to what might come next. For us, these rides were just one small part of a much larger undertaking. The work is not finished.
