03.19.2023 Remembering the “Angry Asian Buddhist” Aaron Lee was a leading voice in Buddhism in the U.S. He spoke out — under the pseudonym “arunlikhati” at first — against the underrepresentation of Asian American Buddhists through his blog, Angry Asian Buddhist. He took scholars and publications, including Lion’s Roar and Buddhadharma, to task for excluding Asian Americans from discussions about American Buddhism. After fighting cancer for more than a year, Aaron passed away in 2017 at the age of 34. This month, Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, feels like an especially important time to reflect on his contribution. I met Aaron over 20 years ago at my Sri Lankan Buddhist temple, Dharma Vijaya. He was an undergrad at the nearby University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). He’d first visited Dharma Vijaya with the UCLA Buddhist Association and began attending semi-regularly. To me, an indifferent teenager at the time, he seemed dorky and gangly. I didn’t give him much thought.   A few years later, we reconnected on Facebook. When I led the Harvard College Buddhist Community, Aaron’s advice was invaluable, especially when I encountered disrespect due to being a “heritage Buddhist.” He ended one email: “If he were a true Buddhist, he wouldn’t be such a jerk.” We emailed and chatted online regularly about such Buddhist things, and occasionally saw each other in person when I would return to LA. He would also email me for feedback on his blog posts. While I offered him my thoughts, I mostly enjoyed that Aaron was verbalizing microaggressions I had experienced.   One day, Aaron excitedly emailed me a course paper someone had written about Angry Asian Buddhist. The author was to present the paper at the 2010 “Buddhism Without Borders” conference at the Institute of Buddhist Studies, and we knew we had to go. We worried the whole time that the author would figure out who Aaron was, but luckily, they never caught on that the subject of their paper was sitting in the audience. We felt like we had gotten away with something.   I spoke to Aaron for the last time on the phone in July 2017, three months before his death. As we reminisced, I described the triumphs and horrors of a PhD program. He was hopeful about a new cancer treatment. At one point, we both paused. I realized this would be our last conversation. I took a deep breath and asked, “Do you want to hear about my new cat?” “Yes, please!” Aaron said, and we were off discussing my fat tabby’s silly antics and furry regality.   It’s weird to think that I’m older now than Aaron will ever be. If it weren’t for Aaron, I wouldn’t be an Associate Editor at Lion’s Roar focusing on Asian American Buddhist issues. It’s one of his many legacies, alongside his voice in the three pieces featured below, which each reveal his efforts to create a more inclusive American Buddhism.   I’ll always remember Aaron’s self-consciousness at one Sri Lankan event. The batik sarong he wore was tied, sticking straight out under his stomach. “Is this obscene?! Am I too phallic?!” he asked. “Don’t worry about it, man,” I said. “If people are staring, it’s because you’re a pale dude in a sarama.” That’s one of my favorite memories of Aaron: a dorky gangly pale dude in a sarong next to a loud opinionated Sri Lankan American, walking and laughing along the Santa Monica Promenade. This weekend, I encourage you to explore the Angry Asian Buddhist website and Lion’s Roar’s archives on his work. As you read and reflect, remember him. - Mihiri Tillakaratne, Associate Editor, Lion’s Roar Why isn’t the “Angry Asian Buddhist” angry? As his cancer went from bad to worse, the anonymous blogger known as the “Angry Asian Buddhist” strived to accept the absurdity of life.   Where did the anger come from?” Arun asks himself. “It came from the spirit of Asian Americans pushing back against stereotypes.” Buddhists sometimes talk about the idea of “skillful anger,” where one lets go of vindictive preoccupations and uses the energy of anger compassionately. I ask him if that’s what the Angry Asian Buddhist represented. “I don’t think you need skillful anger,” says Arun. “I think you can just be skillful. The anger will be there. It will come and it will go.” He echoes his father’s advice, adding that we choose what to do with our anger. “Am I using skillful anger when I write on the Angry Asian Buddhist?” he asks. “Or am I using the concept of anger, skillfully? I feel like I’m using the concept of anger.” ADVERTISEMENT A Refuge for Myself and for All Beings Coming to terms with metastatic non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, Arunlikhati (Aaron Lee) realizes he is his own refuge — and one for everyone else, too. During my first two weeks in the hospital, I tried playing around with different Buddhist practices to try to tease out which would work best for me. One night, restless from a large dose of Prednisone, I picked up my notebook and scribbled down the thoughts running around in my mind. What am I trying to achieve, if not ultimate liberation? Why is it important for me to delve into Buddhist practice? What will make it all worthwhile? And then I scribbled out one last line, closed my notebook and went to sleep.  Be the refuge you wish to see in this world.   “Be the refuge” has become my strategy for engaging Buddhist practice in my battle with cancer. To me, a refuge is a space for the cultivation of true comfort and wellbeing. I’m fine with not reaching the fully liberating refuge of enlightenment in this lifetime. It would be enough if I could have somewhat of a refuge for myself from pain and anxiety, and then to try be a refuge for those around me. Let’s Continue Aaron’s Work One year after his death, Funie Hsu reflects on honoring the legacy of Aaron Lee, known to many as the “Angry Asian Buddhist.” From the Winter 2018 issue of Buddahdharma: The Practitioner’s Quarterly. Aaron’s attention to the underrepresentation of Asian American Buddhists highlights a larger historical fact of race-making for many Asian Americans in the United States: our affiliation with Asian religions has served as a marker of racial difference and deviance. Thus, Buddhism has been both a catalyst for our exclusion from the American national imagination (the targeted incarceration of Buddhists of Japanese ancestry during WWII, for example) and a source of our refuge through ongoing alienation. For Asian American Buddhists, then, writing about our Buddhist identities becomes a path for understanding our American condition. Over dinner a few months before his passing, Aaron poignantly confided that, in many regards, he saw himself writing more about the question of what it means to be American than about Buddhism. In this light, efforts to center Asian American Buddhist writers speak to a much needed move to broaden our understanding of racial dynamics in the United States. They are part of a larger intention to build a collective American Buddhism that takes seriously the liberation from social suffering. LION’S ROAR PROMOTION Subscribe Today!