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Saturday, June 20, 2009
Mehn-su,1992
Mehn-su,1992
I looked down and saw a small stain on my cartoon-printed underwear. Panic rushed over my body. What is this? Am I dying? I yanked up my pajama bottoms and sprinted towards my Unie’s room for help. I stopped at her door, waited for her to look up, and said in a small, scared voice, “Unie? Something’s wrong.”
At ten years old, I didn’t know what it meant to have a period. All I knew was that my mom would buy gigantic Kotex pads would wrap them neatly in tissue before depositing them into the wastebasket. The year before I started my period, in fourth grade, the girls had a day of “Sexual Health Education.” My parents checked the “NO, I do not consent” box on my form. My um-ma and ap-pah grew up after the Korean War, when there was certainly no such thing as Sex Ed. The letter from my elementary school explained the purpose of Sex Ed, but my parents spoke limited English and they only needed to understand one word: SEX. So, while all the girls learned about periods, pads, and puberty, I sat with the boys and watched “Big Ben”, a movie about a brown bear.
The morning that my period first started, my sister handed me one of my mom’s bulgy pads and showed me how to use it. I secretly wondered why there was no “belt” as my only exposure to periods and pads was from an outdated version of “Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret” in which Margaret and her friends yearn for their periods and practice fastening belts to a pad. I also wondered, How often should I change my pad? How should I take a shower? How long my period would last? Why did I have it? And most importantly, How could I keep everyone from seeing the outline of this bulgy, extra-long, overnight Kotex from the back of my Bongo shorts? This was my introduction to my period: many questions and no answers.
My um-ma didn’t find out that I had started my period until three days later. I didn’t know how to say “period” in Korean. In true tradition, she simply asked me if I had started my mehn-su. I had no idea what mehn-su meant but from my um-ma’s tone, I could guess that she was talking about my period. I slowly nodded my head and she yelled in exasperation, “You’re so young! Why are you starting so soon?!” I clearly did not have the answer, so I silently added it to my growing list of questions about my period.
It wasn’t until sixth grade, when I slyly moved the checkmark from the NO box to the YES box, that I finally got some answers.
in My Little Red Book
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Thank you Ron Takaki
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/31/education/31takaki.html
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/06/01/BA7B17T6TQ.DTL
Like many students at Berkeley, I first heard of Ron Takaki in my Asian Am 20A. Strangers From a Different Shore was one of the many books we were assigned to read but it was the book that had the biggest impact on my life. Two years later in my junior year of college, I had the honor of taking a small research seminar led by Professor Takaki. We met in a dark classroom in Wheeler Hall once a week. Creaky chairs, too small tables, dusty blackboards. The 15 or so of us, including Professor Takaki, sat in a small circle every class period sharing our research. Professor Takaki opened up the semester asking us his famous question, “How do you know you know what you know?” and we spent the first three weeks of the class sharing our epistemologies. Riveting to learn from him. Riveting to learn from each other.
Professor Takaki’s discussion of his epistemology deeply resonated with me and still does. I was moved to hear him share his experience entering academia, publishing his first book, and going home to Hawaii to his family. His uncle said to him, “Hey Ronnie, it’s good that you did all that but when are you going to write something for us? Something that we can read?” And that shaped the rest of his career as a historian, writer, researcher, and teacher. He told us this story at a time when I was struggling to reconcile my own identies as a student in Asian American Studies and as a daughter of Korean immigrants. Every time I went home to San Diego, I left something behind in Berkeley. Every time I left to Berkeley, I left something behind in San Diego. At that point it was something I had never talked about and instead struggled alone in this constricting binary paradigm.
But I digress.
Professor Takaki invited our class to his house for lunch. He took us on a tour of his study which was really a basement room with a bunch of filing cabinets. On top of the file cabinets you could see plaques and awards collecting dust. An after thought. He proudly showed us the paintings that he and his wife Carol made (I don’t remember what the style is called, one was a mallard duck though!). In the living room there sat a piano that was cluttered 40 photos or so of their children and grand children. The only thing that could make you think this man was a big deal was a picture of Professor Takaki and President Clinton taped to the wall. No frame. Just tape.
In that seminar, Professor Takaki was so supportive of me and my writing. Even though we were just undergrads, you could tell he really cared about our writing and storytelling. Out of his class came my paper Yuhl-Sheem, which is captured in this blog as a series (See Tag: Yuhl-Sheem).
In the past year I have thought a lot about Ron Takaki. He has been on my mind as I identified my dissertation topic and did some preliminary work in the spring semester. Even more so, in the past few months, I have come to a strong realization that Ron Takaki has influenced me beyond academia and into my work as an educational practitioner. The work I did in Richmond and the way in which I did my work was deeply rooted in working with my students to shape, name, and tell their stories as young folks who live on the margins and to find ways to develop fluency in multiple Discourses so that we may retell our powerful stories.
I was so saddened when I read about Ron Takaki’s passing. Short of breath when I read how he passed. I send my deepest condolences to his family and the thousands of other people who have been profoundly touched by his work and life.
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2009/06/01/BA7B17T6TQ.DTL
Like many students at Berkeley, I first heard of Ron Takaki in my Asian Am 20A. Strangers From a Different Shore was one of the many books we were assigned to read but it was the book that had the biggest impact on my life. Two years later in my junior year of college, I had the honor of taking a small research seminar led by Professor Takaki. We met in a dark classroom in Wheeler Hall once a week. Creaky chairs, too small tables, dusty blackboards. The 15 or so of us, including Professor Takaki, sat in a small circle every class period sharing our research. Professor Takaki opened up the semester asking us his famous question, “How do you know you know what you know?” and we spent the first three weeks of the class sharing our epistemologies. Riveting to learn from him. Riveting to learn from each other.
Professor Takaki’s discussion of his epistemology deeply resonated with me and still does. I was moved to hear him share his experience entering academia, publishing his first book, and going home to Hawaii to his family. His uncle said to him, “Hey Ronnie, it’s good that you did all that but when are you going to write something for us? Something that we can read?” And that shaped the rest of his career as a historian, writer, researcher, and teacher. He told us this story at a time when I was struggling to reconcile my own identies as a student in Asian American Studies and as a daughter of Korean immigrants. Every time I went home to San Diego, I left something behind in Berkeley. Every time I left to Berkeley, I left something behind in San Diego. At that point it was something I had never talked about and instead struggled alone in this constricting binary paradigm.
But I digress.
Professor Takaki invited our class to his house for lunch. He took us on a tour of his study which was really a basement room with a bunch of filing cabinets. On top of the file cabinets you could see plaques and awards collecting dust. An after thought. He proudly showed us the paintings that he and his wife Carol made (I don’t remember what the style is called, one was a mallard duck though!). In the living room there sat a piano that was cluttered 40 photos or so of their children and grand children. The only thing that could make you think this man was a big deal was a picture of Professor Takaki and President Clinton taped to the wall. No frame. Just tape.
In that seminar, Professor Takaki was so supportive of me and my writing. Even though we were just undergrads, you could tell he really cared about our writing and storytelling. Out of his class came my paper Yuhl-Sheem, which is captured in this blog as a series (See Tag: Yuhl-Sheem).
In the past year I have thought a lot about Ron Takaki. He has been on my mind as I identified my dissertation topic and did some preliminary work in the spring semester. Even more so, in the past few months, I have come to a strong realization that Ron Takaki has influenced me beyond academia and into my work as an educational practitioner. The work I did in Richmond and the way in which I did my work was deeply rooted in working with my students to shape, name, and tell their stories as young folks who live on the margins and to find ways to develop fluency in multiple Discourses so that we may retell our powerful stories.
I was so saddened when I read about Ron Takaki’s passing. Short of breath when I read how he passed. I send my deepest condolences to his family and the thousands of other people who have been profoundly touched by his work and life.
Monday, September 15, 2008
kimchi fried rice recipe
2 cups of day-old cooked rice (I use brown but white tastes better!)
1/2 c of kimchi- chopped into small pieces
2 scrambled eggs, cooked
1/2 can of SPAM (I use Spam lite) chopped into small pieces
any additional veggies you like (peas and carrots?)
saute the kimchi in 1 T EVOO for about 5 minutes, until transclucent
add 1 T EVOO to pan (with the kimchi still in it); add rice, fry :)
at this point i like to add in the liquid from the kimchi
after your rice gets nice and red!!!, remove rice, add the spam to the pan, let cook crispy ( you can just dump it into the rice too), then add the kimchi fried rice back into the pan = kimchi fried rice w/ spam
add cooked scrambled eggs
modifications: no spam? add some beef bouillon to the rice to make it tastier
instead of adding cooked scrambled eggs, make an omelette with the rice as the filling. squiggle some ketchup on top of the omelette.... DELICIOUS!
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Help my students by eating!!!
Here is an easy and tasty way to help out some amazing students from Richmond High School. I have a few 12th grade students who are undocumented and are thus, ineligible for federal and state financial aid. My students are leaders at their school: student government, service clubs, and academic clubs. They have worked really hard the past four years to make college a possibility and you can help them get a step closer to their goal, just by eating!
Cafe Cacao (http://cafecacao.biz) in Berkeley has agreed to donate 25% of your total bill to my students. All you need to do is eat there any weekend in February and present a printout of the donation card ( http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=ddgfrwzj_0t3sdxccw) Easy, right? Cafe Cacao has brunch (french toast, chocolate banana pancakes, poached eggs in rosemary butter, savory egg scrambles), yummy mochas (one time they drew a kitty cat in chocolate powder on top of my mocha foam), and sweet desserts. It was even featured on "The Secret Life of: Brownies" on the Food Network! Cafe Cacao is located right next door to the Sharffen Berger Chocolate Factory, so you can book a free tour to the Factory (http://www.scharffenberger.com/factory.asp) and eat at Cafe Cacao afterward.
Cafe Cacao is open for weekend brunch 9-3 on Saturdays and Sundays. For large groups, you can rsvp by calling 510. 843. 6000
Don't forget to bring this printed card! http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=ddgfrwzj_0t3sdxccw
Happy eating!
~Amy
Cafe Cacao (http://cafecacao.biz) in Berkeley has agreed to donate 25% of your total bill to my students. All you need to do is eat there any weekend in February and present a printout of the donation card ( http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=ddgfrwzj_0t3sdxccw) Easy, right? Cafe Cacao has brunch (french toast, chocolate banana pancakes, poached eggs in rosemary butter, savory egg scrambles), yummy mochas (one time they drew a kitty cat in chocolate powder on top of my mocha foam), and sweet desserts. It was even featured on "The Secret Life of: Brownies" on the Food Network! Cafe Cacao is located right next door to the Sharffen Berger Chocolate Factory, so you can book a free tour to the Factory (http://www.scharffenberger.com/factory.asp) and eat at Cafe Cacao afterward.
Cafe Cacao is open for weekend brunch 9-3 on Saturdays and Sundays. For large groups, you can rsvp by calling 510. 843. 6000
Don't forget to bring this printed card! http://docs.google.com/Doc?id=ddgfrwzj_0t3sdxccw
Happy eating!
~Amy
Monday, February 11, 2008
fried calamari
i've been having a tough time :( as a result, i've been scared to fall asleep without sleeping pills... i'm afraid that i won't be able to fall asleep and i'll stay up all night alone. also, i don't want to wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to go back to sleep. *sigh*
getting up after taking a sleeping pill is a challenge. even though i give myself the 8+ hours of sleep recommended it fucks with my mind. Sunday morning I woke up and could not bear to pull myself out of bed. not only was I weighed down with several heavy blankets, but my mind was hazy and slow. i stayed in bed, groggy and literally terrified that i wouldn't be able to get up. it felt like a giant squid's tentacles were tightly wrapping my body and limbs... i kept thinking that the suction tentacles were injecting a slow but steady stream of poison into my body to keep me from leaving my bed. it was only after i said a prayer that i had the ja-sheen to pull myself up...
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