When I was a child, being Asian-American meant breaking wooden chopsticks over a noodle lunchbox, sunny yellow dresses to bring out the sunny yellow of my skin, and laughing with my colorful classmates because we didn’t know yet we were different.
When I grew older, being Asian-American meant seeing for the first time my father’s oil-stained hands from days of toil, and my mother’s quiet strength as she built a home in the middle of a strange language.Read More »
So, I meant to post this in January—you know, for the new year—but now it’s April, I haven’t left my apartment in two and a half weeks, and I’ve run out of excuses. I’ve been procrastinating on this post because after last year’s Re-Introduction post, I hoped I would be further in my writing career instead of…in exactly the same place. At times, it’s felt like I’ve wasted a year of my life, but my best friends would argue (and have argued, many times) that this past year has been a year of personal growth and milestones.
So, without further ado, to all my fellow bloggers, my readers, my best friends, and the whole wide world, are you listening? Can you see me? I’m re-introducing myself.Read More »