When Hate Knocks at the Door, Are We Ready?

— Five Lessons from the Amadeo Quindara Case for the Chinese American Community

By One Voice 

“Speak English!” — A Command That Led to a Bloody Assault

On May 30, 2023, 75-year-old Filipino American Amadeo Quindara was sitting in a chair in his own garage, enjoying a quiet afternoon in the Mountain’s Edge neighborhood of suburban Las Vegas. He was speaking Tagalog, his native language, with his wife. After she stepped inside the house, their neighbor Christian Lentz suddenly appeared.

Within minutes, Quindara was violently dragged, punched, and slammed onto the concrete floor. He suffered severe head trauma and internal bleeding—injuries so grave that he nearly died. His wife rushed out to find him lying in a pool of blood, ice cold and unresponsive.

The day before the attack, Lentz had been detained by police for erratic behavior—smearing raw meat on cars—but was released after a brief mental evaluation. Right before the assault, he shouted “Speak English!” and during the attack, repeatedly yelled “Die! Die!” The racially charged nature of the incident quickly drew public scrutiny.

Lentz was arrested and charged with two felonies: home invasion and abuse of an elderly person resulting in substantial bodily harm. Prosecutors also added a hate crime enhancement. The Clark County District Attorney’s office officially classified the incident as an anti-Asian hate crime.

On April 21, 2025, Lentz entered a plea agreement with prosecutors, pleading “guilty but mentally ill.” According to court records, he admitted to attacking Quindara but claimed he was experiencing a manic episode related to bipolar disorder, and requested a sentence that included both incarceration and psychiatric treatment.

A sentencing hearing originally scheduled for July 21, 2025, was postponed due to unresolved restitution paperwork. The court has rescheduled the hearing for 9:00 a.m. on August 4. The victim’s family is seeking a prison sentence of 4 to 10 years and over $80,000 in restitution to cover medical costs, therapy, and security measures.

Although the case has not received national headlines, it has sent shockwaves through Asian American communities—especially Filipino and other immigrant groups. The incident has shaken their sense of safety, and with it, their trust in the system’s ability to protect them.

Justice Delayed, Lessons Urgent

— What the Quindara Case Teaches Us All

The Amadeo Quindara case was not a random act of violence. From the attacker’s hate-driven motive to the legal complexities and the community’s organized response, the case exposes deep vulnerabilities in how Asian American communities experience justice—or the lack of it.

This was a heartbreaking case. But it is also a mirror—one that reflects not only the suffering of a Filipino elder but the shared risks faced by all immigrant communities, including Chinese Americans. This is not “someone else’s story.” It is an early warning.

And for the Chinese American community, there are five urgent lessons:

1️⃣ Hate Crimes Are Neither Distant Nor Random

Amadeo Quindara was doing nothing but resting at home. He didn’t provoke anyone. He didn’t argue. Yet because he looked “foreign” and spoke a language other than English, he became a target.

This case shatters a comforting myth: that if we keep our heads down, we’ll be safe. But to someone fueled by racism, our skin color, our accent, even our surnames can be seen as threats.

We must acknowledge that hate is not an abstract issue. It lives in our neighborhoods. It could knock on our own doors.

2️⃣ “Speak English” Is Not Just About Language

The day before the attack, Lentz shouted at the Quindaras: “Speak English!” It wasn’t a suggestion—it was a command rooted in dominance. It turned language into a weapon, and belonging into a test.

Chinese speakers in public spaces often encounter glares, interruptions, or even workplace ridicule for using their native tongue. This is not mere etiquette—it’s linguistic discrimination.

Language should never be used to measure someone’s worth or legitimacy as an American. We must teach the next generation to express themselves in multiple languages—with pride, not apology.

3️⃣ Justice Doesn’t Come Automatically—It Must Be Demanded

This case was recognized and prosecuted as a hate crime not because the media jumped in, but because the victim’s family and the Filipino community spoke out, organized rallies, and demanded accountability.

Now imagine this had happened to someone from a less resourced, less organized, or more isolated community. Would it have been brushed aside as a mere “neighbor dispute”?

For the Chinese American community, the greatest danger is not the presence of hate—but our unpreparedness when it strikes.

4️⃣ Mental Illness Claims Can Become Escape Routes for Hate

Lentz admitted to the attack but claimed he was in a bipolar episode at the time. While the victim’s family strongly refuted this as “just a racist excuse,” the court partially accepted his plea.

If the justice system allows mental illness to blur or excuse racist intent, Asian Americans are left doubly vulnerable—not just to the attack itself, but to the erasure of its true motive.

We must pay attention to how the legal system defines and limits the use of mental illness defenses in hate crime cases. Otherwise, perpetrators may walk away from clear racial violence with reduced responsibility.

5️⃣ Community Organization Determines Whether We Survive

Filipino American groups demonstrated strong collective action: local organizations offered legal and media support, elders and families spoke out publicly, and advocates attended court proceedings.

In contrast, Chinese communities often show bursts of concern from passionate individuals but lack continuity, infrastructure, or follow-up systems. Once the headlines fade, the advocacy vanishes too.

Safety doesn’t come from emotion—it comes from systems. We don’t just need people to “step up.” We need organizations to be present. Who is tracking the case? Who is holding legal workshops? Who is connecting with lawmakers and the press?

These questions can’t wait until the next tragedy.

Final Words: We Are Not Spectators—We Are Stakeholders

In the courtroom, Amadeo Quindara told his attacker:
“You almost killed me just because you didn’t like how I looked.”

That moment wasn’t just personal grief—it was a collective truth. For Asian Americans, the danger isn’t merely theoretical. It’s real. And it’s here.

The most powerful response isn’t sorrow—it’s infrastructure. 
Legal knowledge. Organizational capacity. Media fluency. Collective resilience.

Hate may never disappear entirely. But we can make it harder for hate to succeed.

Justice must not wait. 
And we must not stay silent.