The LA Times has this story on the banning of cupcakes and other unhealthy foods from classrooms in an attempt to curb obesity. Apparently this is creating mini-cupcake rebellions by parents who are pissed that their child can't be the center of a sugary celebration on their special day. Texas even passed a Safe Cupcake amendment to ensure a parent's rights to bring cupcakes into the classroom.
I actually don't care about this story at all, but it does remind me of a story from my childhood (surprise, surprise)...
I am a summer baby and was always a bit sad that my birthday was never celebrated at school. Thank goodness for year-round school!!! By the time third-grade rolled around I was on a track that had me in school in my birthday month! sweet, i thought. I FINALLY get to be the center of attention... The envied one... muhahahahhaha...
As my birthday approached, I told my parents about the coveted cupcake tradition. I guess they thought it was pretty cool, so the night before my birthday we went to our local grocery store to buy these mini-confections. Did I leave with a class set of sprinkled cupcakes? Nope. What did I leave with?
BLUEBERRY MINI-MUFFINS
My parents decided the cupcakes were too expensive to buy for the whole class, so instead they bought me blueberry mini-muffins*. I was seriously devastated. I'm sure my parents didn't think it was a big deal. Not only were they both in the bakery section, but to the untrained eye, cupcakes and muffins may look similar so mini-muffins should be fine right? Despite my sadness, I accepted the mini-muffins w/out protest. I didn't want to hurt my parents feelings, but my little third-grade throat definitely tightened... sigh...
so the story ends with me bitterly walking to school w/ my Albertson's plastic bag of mini-muffins, contemplating throwing them out before I arrived at school. I was also definitely sad that I had to bring them myself, rather than have my parents bring them to class w/ ice cream or something. I ended up reluctantly sharing them with my classmates, who loved them, but I was still a bit bummed in the end.
this story isn't sad or anything but whenever my sister and i see mini-muffins we always crack up at the , "Remember when...?"
---
*so cupcakes aren't that expensive, but for us they were. not only were we pretty poor, but we rarely bought snacks and goodies so this was definitely going to be unusual. on top of that my parents dont think birthdays are important. i think i may have "celebrated" 5-7 birthdays with my parents; they don't even call to say happy birthday now. it wasn't a big deal to them, so why should be a big deal to a third-grader right? b/c EVERYTHING is a big deal to third-graders!
---
I was the only Asian kid in my class, i'm pretty sure everyone else was white. now when i think about my mini muffin fiasco, i'm convinced that i was hyper aware of being different and thought that it would reinforce how different i was. as if the mini muffins were the apple in the Garden of Eden and eating them would open up the kids eyes to the fact that I'm Korean!!!!
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Stoopid
Today's SFGate has an article entitled Same Sex Marriage Foes Says Divorces Prove Their Point
Here is an excerpt:
Two of the highest-profile same-sex couples in the country split up this summer, and their breakups immediately became fodder for opponents of such unions.
Julie and Hillary Goodridge, the named plaintiffs in the Massachusetts case that legalized same-sex marriage in that state as of 2004, announced in July that they had separated after two decades together. And in August, Carolyn Conrad and Kathleen Peterson, who entered into the nation's first same-sex civil union after five years together, ended it.
"The separation of Julie and Hillary Goodridge is tragic not only for their daughter," the Rev. Lou Sheldon of the Traditional Values Coalition said in a statement released the day after the couple confirmed the separation. "But ... they have clearly shown just how little they value the institution of marriage and provide a chilling look into what our nation faces if homosexual marriage is legalized elsewhere."
Something tells me that Rev. Sheldon doesn't believe that the "chilling" divorce rate of heterosexual marriages is a call to halt male/female marriages as well.
Here is an excerpt:
Two of the highest-profile same-sex couples in the country split up this summer, and their breakups immediately became fodder for opponents of such unions.
Julie and Hillary Goodridge, the named plaintiffs in the Massachusetts case that legalized same-sex marriage in that state as of 2004, announced in July that they had separated after two decades together. And in August, Carolyn Conrad and Kathleen Peterson, who entered into the nation's first same-sex civil union after five years together, ended it.
"The separation of Julie and Hillary Goodridge is tragic not only for their daughter," the Rev. Lou Sheldon of the Traditional Values Coalition said in a statement released the day after the couple confirmed the separation. "But ... they have clearly shown just how little they value the institution of marriage and provide a chilling look into what our nation faces if homosexual marriage is legalized elsewhere."
Something tells me that Rev. Sheldon doesn't believe that the "chilling" divorce rate of heterosexual marriages is a call to halt male/female marriages as well.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Yuhl-Sheem (10)
I have a lot of pity and sadness for women who do housekeeping. Even though we didn't really share a language, I felt close to the Mexican women workers. The housekeepers have the hardest work to do in the hotels but they get the least amount of money. When I worked there I lost a lot of pride. Sometimes I couldn’t keep my head straight. I would come home and not want to eat anything. It was a hard time. I would work 9-5. When I came home my husband would be sleeping so he would be ready for his night shift. I'd make dinner for us and we would spend some time together but then he would have to leave for work at night. When he would come home in the morning, I would be leaving for work. When I would sleep he would work. When I would work he would sleep.
At lunchtime I would eat with the other ladies and they would talk about their problems with their kids. So then I would think, well I’m not the worst off. I would think about my daughters at the best universities and my mah-uhm would feel better. I know that they will never have to do the type of work I have to do.
The work I did at the hotel was very physical. I would have to bend over a lot to scrub the toilets and the bathtub. I had to push around heavy carts and lift up the mattresses to fix the sheets. After awhile I started to have pain in my shoulder and lower back. I went and told Rob, the department manager, that I had hurt myself. He dismissed my complaint and told me to go back to work. The pains didn't stop. I had Christen write a letter to Rob telling him that I had been injured and asking that I be given less physical work. After Rob got the letter he told me if I needed help to ask him and he would help me. Of course, he was never around when I needed help.
At lunchtime I would eat with the other ladies and they would talk about their problems with their kids. So then I would think, well I’m not the worst off. I would think about my daughters at the best universities and my mah-uhm would feel better. I know that they will never have to do the type of work I have to do.
The work I did at the hotel was very physical. I would have to bend over a lot to scrub the toilets and the bathtub. I had to push around heavy carts and lift up the mattresses to fix the sheets. After awhile I started to have pain in my shoulder and lower back. I went and told Rob, the department manager, that I had hurt myself. He dismissed my complaint and told me to go back to work. The pains didn't stop. I had Christen write a letter to Rob telling him that I had been injured and asking that I be given less physical work. After Rob got the letter he told me if I needed help to ask him and he would help me. Of course, he was never around when I needed help.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Yuhl-Sheem (9)
Two or three years later both of my daughters were in college. Christen was in her last year of undergraduate school at and Amy was in her second year. Again, I wanted to send them just a little bit of money, enough for books. My mah-uhm hurts when I think of my daughters trying to study and work at the same time. I would think of Amy who was at work more than she was in class and I was willing to do anything to help my children.
I started working at a newly built hotel. I was hired as a housekeeper. I was the only non-Spanish speaking housekeeper. Even though my co-workers and I couldn’t really communicate because most of them spoke Spanish, we got along. Also my supervisors were nice to me because I worked hard. It was my first time doing housekeeping in a hotel, but I was good at it. The other ladies would ask me how long I had been doing it and I’d say, “First time.” They would be so surprised.
At lunchtime we would sit together. If you looked at the cafeteria everyone sat according to their department. The other housekeepers and I would sit together and try to chat. I would bring apples for lunch and cut them up so we could all eat them together. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t verbally communicate. We were all housekeepers. None of us went to college; we’re all alike.
Housekeeping is hard and humiliating work. I would knock on the room doors and say “Housekeeping” to see if anyone was in there. After a little bit, if nobody answered I would take my key and open the door. Sometimes there were men in there! I would tell them that I’d come back but they would tell me to go ahead and clean. I was scared. If somebody else was in the room I’d always keep the door open. One time I had to clean a room and it smelled heavily of cigarettes. I couldn’t breathe because it smelled so disgusting. I propped the door open to air out the room but the guest told me to close the door because he had a cold. I told him that I couldn’t breathe because of the smell; I was coughing and everything. He still made me close the door. So I tried to clean it in a hurry but he would say, “You missed a spot. Clean over there.” That bastard didn’t even give me a tip. Most of the customers don’t tip. The families on vacation would tip, but not the business people. The business people always leave the biggest messes too and they still don’t tip!
When I first started working we had to set up the rooms before the grand opening. We had to get all the sheets on the bed, wipe down all the furniture down, hang up the shower curtains and put the new furniture in place. It was too much hard work. When I worked at the hotel I cried so much. It was back-breaking work. I would be working all day and I would get thirsty. I would want water but I would have to take the elevator to another floor and that would waste time so I wouldn’t even drink water. In 8 hours I had to clean 15 rooms. The manager gave me all the smoking rooms. I was the only one who was assigned to clean these rooms. Everything smelled like smoke, even the floors. One time I got so mad that I took a drinking glass in the bathroom and threw it at the wall. It shattered into pieces and I felt good.
I started working at a newly built hotel. I was hired as a housekeeper. I was the only non-Spanish speaking housekeeper. Even though my co-workers and I couldn’t really communicate because most of them spoke Spanish, we got along. Also my supervisors were nice to me because I worked hard. It was my first time doing housekeeping in a hotel, but I was good at it. The other ladies would ask me how long I had been doing it and I’d say, “First time.” They would be so surprised.
At lunchtime we would sit together. If you looked at the cafeteria everyone sat according to their department. The other housekeepers and I would sit together and try to chat. I would bring apples for lunch and cut them up so we could all eat them together. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t verbally communicate. We were all housekeepers. None of us went to college; we’re all alike.
Housekeeping is hard and humiliating work. I would knock on the room doors and say “Housekeeping” to see if anyone was in there. After a little bit, if nobody answered I would take my key and open the door. Sometimes there were men in there! I would tell them that I’d come back but they would tell me to go ahead and clean. I was scared. If somebody else was in the room I’d always keep the door open. One time I had to clean a room and it smelled heavily of cigarettes. I couldn’t breathe because it smelled so disgusting. I propped the door open to air out the room but the guest told me to close the door because he had a cold. I told him that I couldn’t breathe because of the smell; I was coughing and everything. He still made me close the door. So I tried to clean it in a hurry but he would say, “You missed a spot. Clean over there.” That bastard didn’t even give me a tip. Most of the customers don’t tip. The families on vacation would tip, but not the business people. The business people always leave the biggest messes too and they still don’t tip!
When I first started working we had to set up the rooms before the grand opening. We had to get all the sheets on the bed, wipe down all the furniture down, hang up the shower curtains and put the new furniture in place. It was too much hard work. When I worked at the hotel I cried so much. It was back-breaking work. I would be working all day and I would get thirsty. I would want water but I would have to take the elevator to another floor and that would waste time so I wouldn’t even drink water. In 8 hours I had to clean 15 rooms. The manager gave me all the smoking rooms. I was the only one who was assigned to clean these rooms. Everything smelled like smoke, even the floors. One time I got so mad that I took a drinking glass in the bathroom and threw it at the wall. It shattered into pieces and I felt good.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Are you there God? It's me, Amy. + Awesome youth
in the midst of my craziness the past... oh say... six years? i decided at the last minute to cancel my weekend plans and attend a retreat with the graduate student fellowship.
this is my second church retreat-- the first was one i was 8 or something. anyway, i went because all my life i have felt distance from God. for the most part i grew up in a church but i never felt the way other people seemd to feel or even knew the Bible all too well. since i started college and became more and more passionate about doing work in social justice, there has been huge tension between my faith in God and my passion for work. the amount of passion and convinction i feel in my work ('used in general terms, not just my paid work) i have never felt in God. this never sat well with me, but never bothered me enough to really do anything about it.
last year i joined a women's small group in my church, in hopes to find a community of Christians who would help me strengthen my faith. the women in my small group are wonderful, but sometimes i would feel this disconnect. my life is experienced through a gendered, raced, and classed lens. because of this, when i share my thoughts, feelings, or concerns that are filtered throug this lens, i felt like sometimes people wouldn't know what i was quite talking about, thought i was "too much" something, and/or i was asked to explain. many times i tone down what i would normally say to soften the blow. once i said something about learning to work w/ white allies and i think some people thought i was racist. always accommodating. so frustrating. so voiceless.
the contemporary western Christian church does seem to care about social justice issues. however, i feel like it is usually addressed at a global level (poverty or AIDS in other countries). if it is domestic, it seems to be incidental (Katrina) or a form of class inequity (homelessness). a part of me cannot help but feel like this is a sanitary, non-threatening way to addresses issues of equity. like someone else' country is messed up, not ours. or there is a failure to interrogate the intersections of power, ESPECIALLY race/ ethnicity, which lead to inequity. a lot of these sorts of thougths keep me from feeling at home in a community of Christians.
ironically, what pushes me away from God is what also draws me to Him; the Bible has a very strong message about justice and love. i feel very strongly that i am put on this earth purposefully to be working with people who live on the margins. so this is a small part of what draws me back and makes me long for a solid faith.
i went on this retreat and again there was this tension. it was on my mind the whole time. many of the grad students are in mathy/ sciencey/ computery fields. there are some grad students who are in fields i would guess would make them progressive, but they say stuff that is slightly shocking. and then bc this is UC Berkeley and b/c this is a GRADUATE student fellowship, many ppl come from privleged, privleged backgrounds. so many times i felt displaced and alienated from people simply b/c i could not identify (in my car was the daughter of a mathematician,the son of a dean of engineering, and the sone of someone else equally impressive. they were talking about how their parents professions influenced their learning/ careers. i was like... okay... how can i relate to this when my mom went up to junior high?). other times ppl said stuff that totally pissed me off and made me feel like i had to go into my "working class, woman of color, educator mode". the blessing was that i also saw glimpses into ppl who care about injustice. their work may be in physics or astronomy or electrical engineering, but they do think about things i care about. the bigger blessing was that i was able to start seeing people as what they are, rather than what they are not.
did i witness a miracle? am i now w/out hesitation and fear able to proclaim to people that i am Christian? definitely not. but i am rethinking, rearranging things in my mind, which is always good. i think i learned that being a Christian does not demand that i be complacent. in fact, it demands the very opposite. after the retreat i went to church today and the sermon was about just that. the connection and oneness between worshiping God and human relationships.
click here and then on the 9/10 sermon to listen it was very relevant to me.
awesome youth
today i had my first meeting w/ the youth who are interested in helping me start an APA youth program in Richmond. i'm so pleased with them. excited to start. scared as well.
this is my second church retreat-- the first was one i was 8 or something. anyway, i went because all my life i have felt distance from God. for the most part i grew up in a church but i never felt the way other people seemd to feel or even knew the Bible all too well. since i started college and became more and more passionate about doing work in social justice, there has been huge tension between my faith in God and my passion for work. the amount of passion and convinction i feel in my work ('used in general terms, not just my paid work) i have never felt in God. this never sat well with me, but never bothered me enough to really do anything about it.
last year i joined a women's small group in my church, in hopes to find a community of Christians who would help me strengthen my faith. the women in my small group are wonderful, but sometimes i would feel this disconnect. my life is experienced through a gendered, raced, and classed lens. because of this, when i share my thoughts, feelings, or concerns that are filtered throug this lens, i felt like sometimes people wouldn't know what i was quite talking about, thought i was "too much" something, and/or i was asked to explain. many times i tone down what i would normally say to soften the blow. once i said something about learning to work w/ white allies and i think some people thought i was racist. always accommodating. so frustrating. so voiceless.
the contemporary western Christian church does seem to care about social justice issues. however, i feel like it is usually addressed at a global level (poverty or AIDS in other countries). if it is domestic, it seems to be incidental (Katrina) or a form of class inequity (homelessness). a part of me cannot help but feel like this is a sanitary, non-threatening way to addresses issues of equity. like someone else' country is messed up, not ours. or there is a failure to interrogate the intersections of power, ESPECIALLY race/ ethnicity, which lead to inequity. a lot of these sorts of thougths keep me from feeling at home in a community of Christians.
ironically, what pushes me away from God is what also draws me to Him; the Bible has a very strong message about justice and love. i feel very strongly that i am put on this earth purposefully to be working with people who live on the margins. so this is a small part of what draws me back and makes me long for a solid faith.
i went on this retreat and again there was this tension. it was on my mind the whole time. many of the grad students are in mathy/ sciencey/ computery fields. there are some grad students who are in fields i would guess would make them progressive, but they say stuff that is slightly shocking. and then bc this is UC Berkeley and b/c this is a GRADUATE student fellowship, many ppl come from privleged, privleged backgrounds. so many times i felt displaced and alienated from people simply b/c i could not identify (in my car was the daughter of a mathematician,the son of a dean of engineering, and the sone of someone else equally impressive. they were talking about how their parents professions influenced their learning/ careers. i was like... okay... how can i relate to this when my mom went up to junior high?). other times ppl said stuff that totally pissed me off and made me feel like i had to go into my "working class, woman of color, educator mode". the blessing was that i also saw glimpses into ppl who care about injustice. their work may be in physics or astronomy or electrical engineering, but they do think about things i care about. the bigger blessing was that i was able to start seeing people as what they are, rather than what they are not.
did i witness a miracle? am i now w/out hesitation and fear able to proclaim to people that i am Christian? definitely not. but i am rethinking, rearranging things in my mind, which is always good. i think i learned that being a Christian does not demand that i be complacent. in fact, it demands the very opposite. after the retreat i went to church today and the sermon was about just that. the connection and oneness between worshiping God and human relationships.
click here and then on the 9/10 sermon to listen it was very relevant to me.
awesome youth
today i had my first meeting w/ the youth who are interested in helping me start an APA youth program in Richmond. i'm so pleased with them. excited to start. scared as well.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
today; tonight
the power of one supportive, dope ass person is amazing.
i started this day still feeling upset about all the stuff i blogged about last night. i fell asleep at 3 am, woke up at 7 for an 8:30 appointment at school #1 where all is well and the admin embrace me w/ open arms, went to school #2 w/ my supervisor. school #2 only had glowing remarks about me (which was extremely embarrassing b/c the nice words are undeserved). THEN we had to tell them that our program was leaving their school. that made the kind, undeserved words feel even worse to me. went to school #3, told them that we were no longer going to be working at the school but trying an out-of school model (internally meaning, we are slowly transitioning to drop your high school as a partner school), never made it to school #4, went back to the office and was swamped w/ work. all in all my work day sucked. i came home tired, numb, and still feeling unresolved from the night before. i got stuck in my bed.
then i get a call from my beautiful Romeo to get dinner. romeo is a dope ass educator and friend. his motivation, intention, passion, and work is solid. i take notes when we talk. there is not pretense with him at all. i am able to purge my guilt, check myself, bounce ideas, get feedback on my work and myself, be nakedly honest and vulnerable, be critically questioned and pushed to examine different lenses and be articulate, be inspired and encouraged, and give and receive good hugs. he gives me the space and permission to indulge in my self-discovering/ questioning/ processing shit and turns it into something that is reflective and helpful. i feel like romeo went into my head and sucked all the negativity, hesitation, and self-doubt out of my head. all happened in one leisurely meal at that!
i started this day still feeling upset about all the stuff i blogged about last night. i fell asleep at 3 am, woke up at 7 for an 8:30 appointment at school #1 where all is well and the admin embrace me w/ open arms, went to school #2 w/ my supervisor. school #2 only had glowing remarks about me (which was extremely embarrassing b/c the nice words are undeserved). THEN we had to tell them that our program was leaving their school. that made the kind, undeserved words feel even worse to me. went to school #3, told them that we were no longer going to be working at the school but trying an out-of school model (internally meaning, we are slowly transitioning to drop your high school as a partner school), never made it to school #4, went back to the office and was swamped w/ work. all in all my work day sucked. i came home tired, numb, and still feeling unresolved from the night before. i got stuck in my bed.
then i get a call from my beautiful Romeo to get dinner. romeo is a dope ass educator and friend. his motivation, intention, passion, and work is solid. i take notes when we talk. there is not pretense with him at all. i am able to purge my guilt, check myself, bounce ideas, get feedback on my work and myself, be nakedly honest and vulnerable, be critically questioned and pushed to examine different lenses and be articulate, be inspired and encouraged, and give and receive good hugs. he gives me the space and permission to indulge in my self-discovering/ questioning/ processing shit and turns it into something that is reflective and helpful. i feel like romeo went into my head and sucked all the negativity, hesitation, and self-doubt out of my head. all happened in one leisurely meal at that!
adding fuel to the fire? Red Doors
inspired by Gar's post about the movie Red Doors by Georgia Lee. Lee's come under some fire from some ppl for having a movie w/ 3 asian american sisters who all have white male love interests (i think). BTW gar, in my post i use "your" or "you" a lot, but that does not equal Gar, it's a general "you".
let me start by saying:
-I am an APA woman who finds APA men extremely sexy and lovable.
-It makes me really disgusted when i hear APA women say "i can't date an asian guy b/c it would be like kissing my brother" i think to myself, wow, you must also subscribe to the idea that all asians look alike b/c you can't tell your brother part from another APA man!
-I live in the Bay where yellow fever is rampant and often get annoyed by its huge presence. i try not to, but i def sometimes maddog these couples. (I *really* try to stop doing that)
back to red doors
i have not seen it or really followed the back and forth too closely. i did read michael kang's post on it. i ONLY read kang's post and Gar's post. i did not read all those comments on Kang's blog. here is an excerpt from kang: "Georgia didn't grow up in a predominately Asian community. She grew up in an upper-middle class suburb of Connecticutt. She probably didn't have much exposure to Asian men in her love life growing up. For her to write a story about these three sisters in relationships with Asian boys would have been false. She stuck by the old adage that you write what you know. When I see Red Doors, I believe she knows this material inside and out."
not only is this part of Georgia's reality, but also the reality of many many APA women and men (including myself up to age 17). that story deserves to be told as much as anyone elses (even if you think it doesn't further your APA agenda)
i often think about the large burden that artists of color are expected bear. it's not fair of communities of color to expect artists to dismantle negative images in all of their projects. when i think about supporting APA artists, yes, i def throw my support behind those whom i feel create new and refreshing representations of APAs, particularly those that fit in w/ my political agenda. HOWEVER, one of my many hopes for the APA community is not so focused on dismantling negative images of APAs but providing a diverse and complex representations of our experiences, INCLUDING white male/ asian female loving. mores stories, more voices right? we are not homogenous, our experiences certainly are not.
hopefully, Georgia's characters are complex. i know if i watch red doors, i will have to really try and remove my automatic dislike of white-on-rice to see if the characters are multi-dimensional, if the film is beautiful, if the story is solid, etc etc. my political beef on APA male representation can play a role in how I recieve the film, but hopefully it will not be the only role.
another thing i want to say is that APA men can be the harshest critics when it comes to this shit. for those of you who don't know why, i'm not going to take the time to explain it right now. anyway, i get frustrated b/c implicit in getting upset over asian female/ white male couples is that it becomes framed w/in ethnicity and sexuality (demasculinizing APA men, right?). however, SOMETIMES IT'S JUST AN ISSUE OF PATRIARCHY! it becomes a competition of ownership. "Who can legitimatley own APA women?"
last thoughts?
this issue will always depress me. the outrage over representations of APAs can seem so silly to people on the outside, but it is def grounded in a sociohistorical context AND of course it affects our everyday lives. no doubt, it is very personal. it sickens me that there are so few APA artists/ writers/ filmmakers who are given acccess to resources, publicity, acceptance, etc that we must staunchly defend/ defeat them because the artists are not making an image that is palatable for our community. it's like we get someone and we have to immediately assess "For or Against"? because there's so few in the first place! FUCK MAN. you know white folks don't ever get slammed for showing trailer trash or their suburban counterparts. it's hard enough to break out and decide to follow your heart and your art, then get funding, then get publicity, and then also have to please all APAs? come on, now.
here are some related thoughts: on black male/ asian female relationships (an old post of mine)
let me start by saying:
-I am an APA woman who finds APA men extremely sexy and lovable.
-It makes me really disgusted when i hear APA women say "i can't date an asian guy b/c it would be like kissing my brother" i think to myself, wow, you must also subscribe to the idea that all asians look alike b/c you can't tell your brother part from another APA man!
-I live in the Bay where yellow fever is rampant and often get annoyed by its huge presence. i try not to, but i def sometimes maddog these couples. (I *really* try to stop doing that)
back to red doors
i have not seen it or really followed the back and forth too closely. i did read michael kang's post on it. i ONLY read kang's post and Gar's post. i did not read all those comments on Kang's blog. here is an excerpt from kang: "Georgia didn't grow up in a predominately Asian community. She grew up in an upper-middle class suburb of Connecticutt. She probably didn't have much exposure to Asian men in her love life growing up. For her to write a story about these three sisters in relationships with Asian boys would have been false. She stuck by the old adage that you write what you know. When I see Red Doors, I believe she knows this material inside and out."
not only is this part of Georgia's reality, but also the reality of many many APA women and men (including myself up to age 17). that story deserves to be told as much as anyone elses (even if you think it doesn't further your APA agenda)
i often think about the large burden that artists of color are expected bear. it's not fair of communities of color to expect artists to dismantle negative images in all of their projects. when i think about supporting APA artists, yes, i def throw my support behind those whom i feel create new and refreshing representations of APAs, particularly those that fit in w/ my political agenda. HOWEVER, one of my many hopes for the APA community is not so focused on dismantling negative images of APAs but providing a diverse and complex representations of our experiences, INCLUDING white male/ asian female loving. mores stories, more voices right? we are not homogenous, our experiences certainly are not.
hopefully, Georgia's characters are complex. i know if i watch red doors, i will have to really try and remove my automatic dislike of white-on-rice to see if the characters are multi-dimensional, if the film is beautiful, if the story is solid, etc etc. my political beef on APA male representation can play a role in how I recieve the film, but hopefully it will not be the only role.
another thing i want to say is that APA men can be the harshest critics when it comes to this shit. for those of you who don't know why, i'm not going to take the time to explain it right now. anyway, i get frustrated b/c implicit in getting upset over asian female/ white male couples is that it becomes framed w/in ethnicity and sexuality (demasculinizing APA men, right?). however, SOMETIMES IT'S JUST AN ISSUE OF PATRIARCHY! it becomes a competition of ownership. "Who can legitimatley own APA women?"
last thoughts?
this issue will always depress me. the outrage over representations of APAs can seem so silly to people on the outside, but it is def grounded in a sociohistorical context AND of course it affects our everyday lives. no doubt, it is very personal. it sickens me that there are so few APA artists/ writers/ filmmakers who are given acccess to resources, publicity, acceptance, etc that we must staunchly defend/ defeat them because the artists are not making an image that is palatable for our community. it's like we get someone and we have to immediately assess "For or Against"? because there's so few in the first place! FUCK MAN. you know white folks don't ever get slammed for showing trailer trash or their suburban counterparts. it's hard enough to break out and decide to follow your heart and your art, then get funding, then get publicity, and then also have to please all APAs? come on, now.
here are some related thoughts: on black male/ asian female relationships (an old post of mine)
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Breathe
disclaimer: this is me unloading about my job... sorry. it is also slightly incoherent.
right now at work i've been trying to get set up at my high schools. finding space, requesting transcripts, hiring interns, training interns, getting materials, planning, etc. i haven't even started working with my students yet and i'm pooped!
this will be my first year simply working. my first two years as a "professional" were shared with being a graduate student. although i was crazy and busy all the time, i cut myself some slack at my job and at school. i did the best that i could understand the circumstances i was presented. even though i think i did a pretty good job at both, i definitely have small regrets. being the perfectionist i am, i end up being really hard on myself. i think. (sometimes i think i'm hard on myself and other times people tell me, "um yeah, you think?") anyways, now that i'm "just" working, i have no excuses to not kickass at my job. that is very very scary.
most people know, i'm not too happy with my job. this year i'm trying to make my job more rewarding by creating opportunities for work that goes beyond the traditional scope of college access. one idea i have is this super-ambitious (but def kick ass) leadership retreat. will it be funded? maybe. right now i'm trying to make it fit into meeting our "goals" and our "outcomes." blech. even if it is funded a part of me thinks i shouldn't do it. i'm projecting a weekend in early January for the retreat. this means that college apps are dues Nov 30th so i would be doing college apps while i plan for this retreat, i would begin admissions "reading" first week of december (work 50 hour weeks through february), train my seniors in facilitation skills in december, take a small vacation in december, have the retreat january, start planning for southern california trip in mid-january. and all this time, still go to schools 4 days a week... i really want to do this retreat but know i will be super duper tired and worn out. why is it that when you come up w/ a good idea it just means more work? mediocrity is totally rewarded...
another thing i'm trying to do to make my job more rewarding is by recontextualizing my work into the larger history of public education. we had a training today w/ our interns and i did a facilitation on this topic. i def made some mistakes in my facilitation and need to improve on those skills but i feel like the interns were engaged, participated, learned some new information, and maybe felt a little bit more grounded in their work in education. they thought about how all of these court cases and propositions inform our work with students and schools. overall, it felt incredibly awkward doing this facilitation because it is atypical of our intern trainings-- our org definitely utilizes banking pedagogy and we RARELY talk about anything related to education that lives outside the realm of college access (even though its' def interconnected right?).
i felt nervous and scared because i took up all of this time doing something that is important to me, but i feel like is not valued in our program. i wasn't sure how the other staff would receive it. i felt like the interns were engaged but i couldn't read the professional staff. at some points i rushed and cut people off because it almost felt inappropriate to do this facilitation (even though it is DEF appropriate). its so interesting how your audience and place changes your facilitation. i feel comfortable as a facilitator in my undergrad/ grad classes, with my students at the schools but not with my coworkers. what sucks is that our director comes from a background of popular education. in her job now, she doesn't utilize that approach (i have no idea why). so today i had this paranoia that she was critiquing my approach, even though she never practices a similar method. in a nutshell? sometimes i feel suffocated at work. i feel myself becoming a drone and am trying to fight against it but am not sure the program and my coworkers have the capicity to support me in this. and i'm not sure i have the confidence, experience, or ability to change things.
which brings me onto my fledgling youth program... as of now, unnamed. this is my attempt to do something that i cannot do w/in the constraints of my job. so far? the only update i have is that we (me, plus 3 youth) have our first planning meeting on sunday!!!! yay!!! excited as i am, i'm superscared about this venture. i have no experience doing stuff like this... in fact, i'm so scared that i will probably never talk about this program again on my blog, for fear of public failure... i'm serioius.
so what is my point? why did i write this long, incoherent blog entry?
1. nothing in my life makes sense right now. thus i am incoherent.
2. i dont give myself time to reflect so i have to write it all out
3. it's my blog i can talk about whatever i want
CRAP! i'm a lefty so when i write w/ marker (like i did today) i get marker on my left hand. i just left a pink spot on my white laptop. ARGH !!!!!
oh yes. i'm also dealing with (ongoing ... for a very long time) trying to find a strong faith in God. i'm not going to blog about this. again, for fear of public failure. *sigh*
right now at work i've been trying to get set up at my high schools. finding space, requesting transcripts, hiring interns, training interns, getting materials, planning, etc. i haven't even started working with my students yet and i'm pooped!
this will be my first year simply working. my first two years as a "professional" were shared with being a graduate student. although i was crazy and busy all the time, i cut myself some slack at my job and at school. i did the best that i could understand the circumstances i was presented. even though i think i did a pretty good job at both, i definitely have small regrets. being the perfectionist i am, i end up being really hard on myself. i think. (sometimes i think i'm hard on myself and other times people tell me, "um yeah, you think?") anyways, now that i'm "just" working, i have no excuses to not kickass at my job. that is very very scary.
most people know, i'm not too happy with my job. this year i'm trying to make my job more rewarding by creating opportunities for work that goes beyond the traditional scope of college access. one idea i have is this super-ambitious (but def kick ass) leadership retreat. will it be funded? maybe. right now i'm trying to make it fit into meeting our "goals" and our "outcomes." blech. even if it is funded a part of me thinks i shouldn't do it. i'm projecting a weekend in early January for the retreat. this means that college apps are dues Nov 30th so i would be doing college apps while i plan for this retreat, i would begin admissions "reading" first week of december (work 50 hour weeks through february), train my seniors in facilitation skills in december, take a small vacation in december, have the retreat january, start planning for southern california trip in mid-january. and all this time, still go to schools 4 days a week... i really want to do this retreat but know i will be super duper tired and worn out. why is it that when you come up w/ a good idea it just means more work? mediocrity is totally rewarded...
another thing i'm trying to do to make my job more rewarding is by recontextualizing my work into the larger history of public education. we had a training today w/ our interns and i did a facilitation on this topic. i def made some mistakes in my facilitation and need to improve on those skills but i feel like the interns were engaged, participated, learned some new information, and maybe felt a little bit more grounded in their work in education. they thought about how all of these court cases and propositions inform our work with students and schools. overall, it felt incredibly awkward doing this facilitation because it is atypical of our intern trainings-- our org definitely utilizes banking pedagogy and we RARELY talk about anything related to education that lives outside the realm of college access (even though its' def interconnected right?).
i felt nervous and scared because i took up all of this time doing something that is important to me, but i feel like is not valued in our program. i wasn't sure how the other staff would receive it. i felt like the interns were engaged but i couldn't read the professional staff. at some points i rushed and cut people off because it almost felt inappropriate to do this facilitation (even though it is DEF appropriate). its so interesting how your audience and place changes your facilitation. i feel comfortable as a facilitator in my undergrad/ grad classes, with my students at the schools but not with my coworkers. what sucks is that our director comes from a background of popular education. in her job now, she doesn't utilize that approach (i have no idea why). so today i had this paranoia that she was critiquing my approach, even though she never practices a similar method. in a nutshell? sometimes i feel suffocated at work. i feel myself becoming a drone and am trying to fight against it but am not sure the program and my coworkers have the capicity to support me in this. and i'm not sure i have the confidence, experience, or ability to change things.
which brings me onto my fledgling youth program... as of now, unnamed. this is my attempt to do something that i cannot do w/in the constraints of my job. so far? the only update i have is that we (me, plus 3 youth) have our first planning meeting on sunday!!!! yay!!! excited as i am, i'm superscared about this venture. i have no experience doing stuff like this... in fact, i'm so scared that i will probably never talk about this program again on my blog, for fear of public failure... i'm serioius.
so what is my point? why did i write this long, incoherent blog entry?
1. nothing in my life makes sense right now. thus i am incoherent.
2. i dont give myself time to reflect so i have to write it all out
3. it's my blog i can talk about whatever i want
CRAP! i'm a lefty so when i write w/ marker (like i did today) i get marker on my left hand. i just left a pink spot on my white laptop. ARGH !!!!!
oh yes. i'm also dealing with (ongoing ... for a very long time) trying to find a strong faith in God. i'm not going to blog about this. again, for fear of public failure. *sigh*
Monday, September 04, 2006
Yuhl-Sheem (8)
When Amy started high school, James started working at a hotel. Even though he was working, there still wasn't enough money. For extra money he delivered newspapers early in the morning. Later he found a better job at a luxury hotel but he had to work the graveyard shift. It was the only shift he could take that didn't require him to work Sundays; it also paid a little bit more money. He would leave for work around 10 p.m. and come back around 8 a.m. He would only be home for a little bit because he would leave to put in a few more hours at a school cafeteria. My husband works so many hard hours that it fills me with sorrow.
I couldn't sleep when my husband worked nights. It was too strange to sleep by myself. My daughters would take turns sleeping in my bed with me. I would lie in bed and think, “If only he had gone to school here his life wouldn't be so hard.” He is such a good, kind, and humble man. Even though we don't have money, God has blessed our family with love and happiness.
As Christen was about to go to college I decided that I needed to start working. I didn't want her to work while she was in school. She was going to Yale; I thought she should spend her time studying, not working. I also wanted money to pay back some money I had borrowed.
I was tired of not having money and not working. I didn’t know what kind of work I could do. I had little skills and didn’t like the idea of somebody ordering me around. Finally, I decided to do garment work for a while. The garment factory was in LA so the manager said I could take a sewing machine home and do my work at home. He said I could make $2,000 a month. So every weekend we would drive from San Diego to L.A. to pick up pieces and patterns. We would also drop off all the shirts that I had made. But I didn't even make $2,000 a month. I only made $800. I would get up at 5 in the morning and stop at midnight. Everyday. I only made $800 a month- about $30 a day. My back started to hurt and so did my shoulder. It ached so much. Even though it was hard work, I would have still done it for $2,000 a month. I went back and talked to the manager about my pay and how he had lied to me. He didn't care. He simply said, "Bring back your sewing machine." I did just that. People in the garment industry are crooks. They exploit people. Around that time I saw on the news that a group of Mexican women sued a factory owner. They won. I was so proud. It made my mah-uhm feel cleansed and refreshed.
I couldn't sleep when my husband worked nights. It was too strange to sleep by myself. My daughters would take turns sleeping in my bed with me. I would lie in bed and think, “If only he had gone to school here his life wouldn't be so hard.” He is such a good, kind, and humble man. Even though we don't have money, God has blessed our family with love and happiness.
As Christen was about to go to college I decided that I needed to start working. I didn't want her to work while she was in school. She was going to Yale; I thought she should spend her time studying, not working. I also wanted money to pay back some money I had borrowed.
I was tired of not having money and not working. I didn’t know what kind of work I could do. I had little skills and didn’t like the idea of somebody ordering me around. Finally, I decided to do garment work for a while. The garment factory was in LA so the manager said I could take a sewing machine home and do my work at home. He said I could make $2,000 a month. So every weekend we would drive from San Diego to L.A. to pick up pieces and patterns. We would also drop off all the shirts that I had made. But I didn't even make $2,000 a month. I only made $800. I would get up at 5 in the morning and stop at midnight. Everyday. I only made $800 a month- about $30 a day. My back started to hurt and so did my shoulder. It ached so much. Even though it was hard work, I would have still done it for $2,000 a month. I went back and talked to the manager about my pay and how he had lied to me. He didn't care. He simply said, "Bring back your sewing machine." I did just that. People in the garment industry are crooks. They exploit people. Around that time I saw on the news that a group of Mexican women sued a factory owner. They won. I was so proud. It made my mah-uhm feel cleansed and refreshed.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Yuhl-Sheem (7)
Our family stopped going to church then too. There was a scandal with our minister at that time. He had convinced our family to donate money to buy a church van. We thought it was a good idea; the church could use the van for the youth group and to pick up the elderly church members. We gave a lot of money. In the end, the minister kept the money for himself. The other congregants didn't seem to know or care. They got mad at us and thought we were lying. One of the men yelled at me and said, "You're a woman! You need to keep quiet and listen to the men! How dare you talk so much?" I yelled right back at him and said, "Yes I am a woman, so what? Women have minds and eyes and also know what is going on." We left that church. It was around the same time that we lost our business. I didn't go to church or go to work for a long time.
All that time I didn't go to church it didn't feel right. It was very uncomfortable. Something was missing. I wanted to hear hymnals being sung; I wanted to sing; I wanted to hear sermons; I wanted to worship. My life felt so different then; I didn't know that it was because I wasn't going to church until much later. As Christians we should go to church. We need to go to worship. That's why we went back to church.
The first few years after the bankruptcy were very hard for me. I didn't feel like I could talk to anybody about it. I had my husband but I didn't want to make him feel bad. I didn't want to bother my family either. My parents and brothers and sister are very close to me but I didn't want to burden them so I kept a lot of my feelings inside of me.
Then, and now, I didn’t really have any friends to talk to either. Korean people make friends at church. They think a lot about money and are always competitive about their kids. I don't really care for that. I admit though, sometimes there are women at church that I want to talk to but almost all of them went to college in Korea. So even if I want to talk to them, I have a complex. I feel like I can't talk to them because I didn't go to college. Because I think about that a lot, I can't make friends. Even my husband knows that. But then I try to think that even though they went to college there are other things that I know that they don't. A lot of the times I look at their kids who run around all the time or do bad things. In the end I try to remind myself that they're not better than me because they went to college. I think so what? I didn't go to college, but there are still lots of things that I know. So what? And I just move on.
Because I couldn’t go to school, this is my biggest dream for my daughters. After we moved back into an apartment I felt so sorry for them. Our apartment was so little and crowded. James and I worried about the well being of our daughters. The room they shared was so little and dark; I didn't want them to be like my plants: cramped and suffocated. My husband and I decided to give our daughters the master bedroom in the apartment so they could have enough room to think and do their homework. So from that day to the day Christen went off to college, the two of them shared the bigger room.
All that time I didn't go to church it didn't feel right. It was very uncomfortable. Something was missing. I wanted to hear hymnals being sung; I wanted to sing; I wanted to hear sermons; I wanted to worship. My life felt so different then; I didn't know that it was because I wasn't going to church until much later. As Christians we should go to church. We need to go to worship. That's why we went back to church.
The first few years after the bankruptcy were very hard for me. I didn't feel like I could talk to anybody about it. I had my husband but I didn't want to make him feel bad. I didn't want to bother my family either. My parents and brothers and sister are very close to me but I didn't want to burden them so I kept a lot of my feelings inside of me.
Then, and now, I didn’t really have any friends to talk to either. Korean people make friends at church. They think a lot about money and are always competitive about their kids. I don't really care for that. I admit though, sometimes there are women at church that I want to talk to but almost all of them went to college in Korea. So even if I want to talk to them, I have a complex. I feel like I can't talk to them because I didn't go to college. Because I think about that a lot, I can't make friends. Even my husband knows that. But then I try to think that even though they went to college there are other things that I know that they don't. A lot of the times I look at their kids who run around all the time or do bad things. In the end I try to remind myself that they're not better than me because they went to college. I think so what? I didn't go to college, but there are still lots of things that I know. So what? And I just move on.
Because I couldn’t go to school, this is my biggest dream for my daughters. After we moved back into an apartment I felt so sorry for them. Our apartment was so little and crowded. James and I worried about the well being of our daughters. The room they shared was so little and dark; I didn't want them to be like my plants: cramped and suffocated. My husband and I decided to give our daughters the master bedroom in the apartment so they could have enough room to think and do their homework. So from that day to the day Christen went off to college, the two of them shared the bigger room.
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