His Slashed Face Is a Vivid Indictment of Racist Hate
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An editorial illustration of Noel and the infamous scar. (This was sent to him by a relative from the Philippines, he doesn’t know who created it.)
More than two years later, he now remembers with a bit of dark humor that incident that rippled across the Asian American community in New York. The scar, across his face, comes and goes depending on his weight, he said.
“If I gain weight the skin stretches (so it’s not so visible), but if I lose weight…,” he stopped mid-sentence. He insisted he needed to lose weight. When he learns of other incidents of slashings in NYC, he says to himself, “Ay, mine is bigger, across the face pa. The others just sustained small cuts.” Not that he takes pride, but he now calls the infamous scar “my trademark.”
His memory wandered back to that morning rush hour of February 3, 2021 when a straphanger kept playing with Noel’s tote bag. Noel politely asked him to stop. The man kept doing it, and Noel asked him with more volume in his voice to stop. Just before the train doors opened for the next stop, the man pulled a boxcutter, slashed Noel’s face and scampered. People on the subway were shocked and just stared at him. No one bothered to help while Noel nursed his bleeding face with his palms. No one even bothered to push the alarm button.
The first thing he thought of was his three siblings.
“Naiisip ko mga kapatid ko (I thought of my siblings),” he said. “Kasi (‘Cause) every night my brother and sisters and I would chat online kasi pandemic. Naisip ko (I thought), how will they know if I died?”
Noel with sisters Elsa and Dina.
Noel, grateful to His Creator, did not die. A friend saw him sitting on the subway steps waiting for medical help. He rushed to offer his sympathies, but the NYPD would not let him get close. It was that friend who made the effort to contact Noel’s family.
He has since stopped taking the subway. To go around the city, he books an Access-A-Ride van, courtesy of New York’s Metropolitan Transportation Authority, which takes him from his apartment in Queens to his office in Brooklyn and back.
“Hatid sundo ako (they fetch me back and forth) Monday to Friday,” he said. “Forty minutes each way.”
He now works as an administrative assistant for a nonprofit organization called Camba, Inc. which provides housing assistance to the homeless. He also prepares taxes on the side during tax season. Before the subway incident, he worked in Harlem and would ride the subway every day.
Normal Life in Queens
Noel was born in Project 6 in Quezon City to a middle-class family. His father, an accountant, is from Laguna; his mother who hails from Antique worked as a clerk at Manila City Hall. Noel came to the U.S. in 2007, the second in the Quintana family to emigrate. His youngest sister, Elsa, had come to the U.S. years before and now lives with her family in Florida. Two siblings -- a brother and a sister -- stayed in the Philippines.
Marietta Quintana with children Noel, Elsa and Dina in the 1980s. Noel is 2nd from the eldest.
Noel rents an apartment on the border of Queens and Brooklyn and lives a fairly normal life surrounded by friends with whom he would go out for the occasional lunch or dinner. He travels to Florida to join his sister’s family during long holidays like Thanksgiving or Christmas.
Noel on vacation. He went home this year after younger brother Jimmy passed away in July.
He describes himself as a quiet person who does not fancy speaking up unless spoken to. Not after the incident of February 3 when community organizations began inviting him to speak about hate and his subway story. He spoke at rallies, community meetings, in schools, anywhere in the city almost every week. He was interviewed by international news organizations from Japan, Korea, Germany and other countries. He found a voice and an audience inspired by his courage. He believed the assault happened for a reason: That he was meant to speak up for a community cowering in fear of anti-Asian violence.
Headshot: “It is now my trademark.”
“The hate is rampant and yet walang nagsasalita (no one speaks out),” he said. “Feeling ko I was made a vehicle. I was chosen and given this advocacy.”
Noel’s attacker, a young man in his 20s, is now behind bars, booked over a burglary he committed days after the incident. The man was given five years for that crime and another eight years for his assault on Noel for a total of 13 years. Noel thought he was going to view a lineup but “there was no lineup.” He was just shown footage from a street camera and photos of the man in custody. He wanted to speak to him, but the District Attorney advised against it.
Noel said he feels no anger toward anyone. What he feels is a sense of despair that no one offered to help a person in distress. “Walang tumulong sa akin (No one helped me),” he said.
He believes people should help even if indirectly, like calling 911. He didn’t know until much later when the DA told him that many people called 911 on his incident.
“Marami palang tumawag 911 (I didn’t realize many did call 911),” said Noel with a slightly embarrassed laugh. “I didn’t know.
Cristina DC Pastor is the founding editor of The FilAm newspaper published out of New York City. She co-founded Makilala TV, the first and longest running (10 years) FilAm television talk show in the New York area.
