hayleewrite

[hayleewrite]

Late post! I took this off my Facebook. I realized that sometimes I write status updates that should really be blog posts. so I’ll be uploading a few “old posts” in the next upcoming days. Be on the look out for those!

In this picture is me, my mom, her mom, and her mom's mom. Although it appears to be a captured image of a beautiful day at a theme park, the faces of these women show a different story. Staring at this photo there are individual tales of connectedness. Can you spot the two single mothers who lost husbands in the war? Do you see the three generations of sacrifice who have lived most of their lives in poverty? Can you almost imagine their cries when they were running to escape the bombs of a war torn homeland? Can you hear the goodbyes to the people they left behind in order to not only search for safety and security in their own lives but for their daughters as well? Can you spot the little peanut of hope in this picture ? She's the tiny proof that they finally can let their guard down and feel a moment of peace and happiness in their lives.

Here, standing at this theme park and in the midst of all the staples of American happiness were the women in my family finally feeling safe. And on days like this the stories of the the things they did to keep us all safe will always be remembered and honored. Happy Mother's Day.

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Reinvention

As a person who thinks critically about herself almost all the time, it’s these small moments of truth that become especially scary to admit.  But here goes and I ask you to please be kind. So I noticed that every so many years, I either become frustrated with myself or bored with my current way of life that I begin to feel this itch.. this strong sense of urgency to “reinvent myself.” What does this really mean? 

Well let’s start with senior year of high school. Tired of being a byproduct of the expectations of my family, exhausted with being surrounded by lackluster individuals with no appetite for grand adventures, and drained from being associated with only good girl adjectives - nice, sweet, kind, etc  . . .  I decided to reinvent myself for college. 

I went as far as even changing my name ( long story that I’ll get to another time), and created this new identity. In college, I was fierce and fearless. I had a backbone. I was allergic to bullshit.  I followed my ambition, spoke passionately about my dreams, and tried to inspire everyone I crossed paths with. I even figured out how to dress for my body type (huge win). The pieces of my identity, an identity that I finally felt proud of, quickly fell into place.  Some people call this a part of life and a part of growing  up. But then I notice similar patterns of myself doing the same thing in middle school and again in high school with all the phases that I went through. These moments in my life were all minor attempts to find myself. I guess that’s a large part of who I am, I am always on the hunt to figure myself out.  Maybe that’s why I always feel like I’m running out of time or running away from something . . . 

Now that I’m out of college and officially a young professional, I think often about who I am, who I want to become, and what kind of lifestyle I want to live. This kind of thinking brings out a deep angst from within that often causes me to feel terribly uneasy for many reasons. Mainly it’s because as with any type of deep reflection, it forces me to realize that I’m selfish. I constantly need to grow as a person in order to feel stimulated and happy with my life. I constantly need to learn new things and surround myself with new people and experiences or else I’ll get bored.  Sure for some, any type of revelation about who they are can be considered meaningful. Except not for me. This particular finding about who I am simply means that I’m someone who can’t settle down and live by one grounded ideology. I can’t stay still. It unfortunately means that I’ll be saying goodbye to a lot of good people.  

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Wow! This is the first WFP piece that spoke to me in a long long time. I'm going into 8 years with the love of my life and often people ask me about the secret for maintaining a longterm relationship. And here in this wonderfully crafted video is the secret - "What makes it enough , what makes it the one, is choice. It's constantly choosing to love."

I wish I can say that my relationship is always unicorns and rainbows, it’s definitely not. What this video talks about is true -  one’s personal expectations makes it difficult to just consider love as the underlying solution for everything. My personal demons are complicating the idea that choosing to love is enough to overcome  huge differences that will inevitably impact the future. . . my future.

Selfishly, my personal belief is that  I think it’s okay to love someone but for whatever reason they may just not the right life partner for you. You can love someone so deeply but know deep down that they might be better for someone else.  I think when two people are together for a long time and accidentally grow a part is actually because their actual purpose for that one another was  to prepare them for who they are meant to be with in the future.

Is this theory really that delusional? Think about it.

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Friendships

Deep conversations with one of my mentors tonight about how we are the average of the five people we spend most of our time with.

Seriously, let that sink in.

What I’ve learned over the years is that it’s never bad to detox your life of bad role models and friends. If anything it’s truly necessary to do this in order to grow up and grow as a person. I believe that all friendships should be viewed as a symbiotic relationship in a mental, emotional, and spiritual way - what purpose do I have in your life and what purpose do you have in mine?

We need to give the love we want to our friends as well as receive the love we believe we deserve from our friends. Don’t be complacent. I mean, don’t have unnecessary unrealistic expectations of people but don’t accept bullshit excuses either for bad friends.

Bad friends are not bad people. They are just not the right people for you. Simple as that. Don’t be afraid to be alone. Don’t be afraid to be unpopular. It’s within these rare moment of solitude that enables us to find clarity in the person we want to become and the people we want to share our lives with.

Friendships ARE relationships. You “get in bed” with your friends emotionally and mentally. You put in the effort, you put in the time, and in some cases you put in the money. Make sure it’s worth it.

"Convenience friends" are the worst. And I’m no saint. I’m learning as I go and I was guilty of this as well but convenient friends are symbiotically detrimental to everyone in the relationship. These are the friends that you don’t prioritize but you hang out with when its convenient for you. These are the friends that you grandfather in even though you might not care of them but you’re afraid to be alone. But it’s harmful to you and it impacts the way you view relationships. Friendships like these are always so superficial.

When I think of friendships, I think of loyalty, I think of kindness, and I think of love. I think of the people who makes me a priority, who checks in on me genuinely, who loves to just bond over non extravagant events. I immediately envision my cheerleaders in my life, the ones who pushes me to be the best I can be, who respects me online and offline, and the ones brave enough who will call me out on my bullshit because it keeps me in check.

Your friends are your support group and in some cases your lifeline. If there are a list of people that you know you won’t call to save you when you need saving, well why are you friends with them?

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Augustana seems to always know -

She said I think I'll go to Boston... I think I'll start a new life, I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name, I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather, I think I'll get a lover and fly him out to Spain... Oh yeah and I think I'll go to Boston, I think that I'm just tired I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind... I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset, I hear it's nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice... oh yeah,

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What Mike Brown & Ferguson Means To Me (As An Asian American)

ALL LIVES MATTER.

Black lives.

White lives.

Yellow lives.

Purple lives.

ALL LIVES.

Yellow privilege means that as an Asian American woman, I can be infuriated by the Grand Jury’s verdict in regards to Darren Wilson’s indictment, but I will never have to live in fear because of it.  I will never know what black rage feels like. And we should be so lucky.

So while we may never have to live in that kind of fear, here’s why Asian Immigrants and Asian Americans should still care about Mike Brown and Ferguson.  

Mike Brown could have been any of us.

In light of the indictment verdict, I’ve seen a few articles circulating the internet that critiques Asian American sentiment about Ferguson. Time’s article entitled Why Ferguson Should Matter to Asian-Americans referred to Asian Americans as the absent allies, a long historical stereotype since the civil rights movement acknowledging Asian American participation but discrediting any contribution to change. The article is a great read but it isn’t  the narrative that I was hoping for to get our community riled up. Another article found on the Salt Collective entitled, Why Asian Americans Might Not Talk About Ferguson takes a surface-level stab at anti-blackness by alluding that black racism may come from the deep-rooted Asian cultural standards of white skin as beautiful and  darker skin is not.  Yes, there is discrimination against darker Asians by light-skinned Asians. The article is a great conversation starter but I really wished the author included another trigger-  experiences of newly arrived Asian Immigrants in the 1960s living alongside the black community. Often we hear stories of Asian business owners having to deal with bad black customers or Asian students getting attacked on their way home from school - a vivid memory that my dad talks about time to time.

Anti-blackness is an attitude mostly felt by Asian Immigrants, and such feelings are supported when narratives of black rage and thugish behavior is amplified within the media. But while our parents or grandparents might hold these opinions, I’m not too sure why many of us second generation Asian Americans do. I’m not going to speak for your experiences but if you care about Asian American representation in the media, you need to care about Ferguson. If you care about equal rights for Asian Americans, you need to care about Mike Brown.

As a community, we can't call ourselves activists if we can't advocate equally for others.  Lets take the race narrative out of the Ferguson chatter just for a moment. Imagine that the headline read - Cop shoots unarmed 18 year-old teenager 12 times. Grand Jury verdict: Cop receives no indictment.

A man just killed someone and is able to walk free. Do I think Darren Wilson is a racist? I do not have enough evidence that supports that. But do I think the justice system that overlooks the city of Ferguson is corrupt? Yes. Do I think the police is power hungry there? Yes. Just look at the way they treated members of the media in August. Did we forget about this - Police In Ferguson Have Continually Harassed Journalist.  Finally, do I think Mike Brown deserved to die the way he did? Absolutely Not. Do I think he deserved to die because he is portrayed as an aggressive thug during his strong-armed robbery? Well, if the crazy guy that shot up the movie theater in Colorado did not die the way Mike Brown died.. . 

Mike Brown is a person. He is someone's son and a part of someone's family His death is no less shocking from the following events that shook the Asian American community: 

Remember when two innocent asian women were mistakenly shot at by LAPD or when the shooting of mentally ill Daniel Pham or Cau Bich Tran due to mistaking her vegetable  peeler for a cleaver? How about the shooting of Kuanchung Kao and the cop said he he was afraid that Kao would attack with some sort of martial arts move? Then there’s Fong Lee,, when a cop chased the Hmong teen and shot him 8 times.  Police brutality is just as apparent against Asian American elders,  just check out this article about NYPD cops beat an old many for Jaywalking. See any similarities? All lives matter.

Yes, on the surface level Ferguson is another example of excessive force from police against members of the black community. But underneath that layer is another complex issue of power and authority against members of different ethnic groups and socio-economic backgrounds. At the end of the day, the issue here is about power. How can we give someone so much power without the proper checks and balances in place? And if there is a system in place, maybe we should revisit why it might be failing. 

You know, Asian Americans rarely make headlines in the media. This is a red flag.  Do you honestly think that we don't commit crimes, go missing, or get robbed?  The reason why we don't make national news isn't because our people are just so freaking fantastic. It’s because the media doesn’t think anyone cares about us. And we haven’t given them any incentive to give a shit. We’ll continue to be invisible until we stand up and speak out. And speaking out starts with standing with other minority groups and issues that don't seem to directly matter or impact us. Know why?  Because if you haven't been paying attention, issues of race and power will always impact us.

That's why we need to care about Mike Brown and Ferguson.  It’s not any different in our community when the media is misrepresenting black americans with a certain narrative on the nightly news. It’s not any different from our stories when the systems in place that are meant to protect us falls short and fails us. Everyone in this country receive different types of advantages and disadvantages. Privilege isn't and shouldn't be a new concept to you. Just because you're privileged to not have to face these kinds of things daily, doesn't mean you shouldn't be aware and acknowledge how it might indirectly impact you.

At the very core, we all want the same thing - to be fairly treated as equals. Tell me why we shouldn’t help each other get to the same place?

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Guante: Action (spoken-word on rape culture & men's responsibility)

"You tell me that she never said no. That you’re sorry. That you’re not a bad guy.

Rape culture is silence. It is being able to see the future and not doing anything about it. It is believing the fairy tale platitude that there are good people and bad people and that as long as you’re not one of the bad people, your job is done, your conscience is clear." . . .  "It is all of us swimming through the same polluted water of beer commercials policing masculinity, and stand-up comedians making rape jokes to sound edgy, and media talking heads blaming the victim, and music turning women into disposable sex objects, and language encouraging us to think of sex as violence—bang, hit, smash. . ." These are powerful statements by spoken word artist Guante. This video went viral a little while ago as it was picked up by Upworthy. I made a mental note to write about it so here goes -  

Guante is calling for a new narrative in the way we, the media, our friends, and family talk about our relationships with the women in our lives.

We hear it in our music, regardless of genre. We see it in our movies, TV commercials, and even our available choices for Halloween costumes. Ladies, you can only be scary if you can be sexy for Halloween. 

Anyway. 

It's a call to request for a narrative that says, "HEY! Treat me like a human please. I am tired of getting attacked, beat, groped, paid less, pushed aside, burned, and bought just because I am a woman."  It's a call for when I am too drunk you should see me as a person, your mom, your sister, or your daughter, and take me home because you know it's the right thing for you to do.

Because you know that if your mom or sister was taken advantage of, beat, or bruised you would be extremely upset. 

It's a call for humanity. A little bit of kindness and love. 

Is that too much? 

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Looking for Alaska

Why am I so obsessed with John Green lately? 

He gets me. 

Looking for Alaska confirms just how much he gets me. 

I thought I was the only one who carried these fears about life and death.

My favorite quote:  "When adults say, 'teenagers think they are invincible' with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end and so it cannot fail" - Pudge 

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#Hayleetravelstories

I never was sure about writing a travel series because frankly, I don't travel often. And when I do travel, it's not to anywhere sexy like Europe or Asia. Most of the time when I travel, it's within the Northeast for work and to visit friends out west in California or Houston.  Where am I going with this....

So whenever I had traveled in the past, especially by myself, I am more aware about the city's tiny quirks or have had very interesting interactions with people. Usually I would tweet about it. This time when I ventured out to North Carolina, I started using the hashtag #hayleetravelstories in my tweets and I kind of liked it! Because of this, I'm going to try to use that hashtag whenever I travel so you can follow along and I'll write about anything that's worth mentioning in long form here on the blog.  

In celebration to this great idea (hopefully it'll stick) here are my top 5 travel stories that I can remember right now:

1) Recently this year in July, I took an amtrak business class to Penn Station and then the LIRR to Islandia. My cab driver who was taking me to my hotel in Islandia was talking to me about how the last time he went home to Jamaica was for grandfather's funeral. I offered my condolences but he said not to feel sorry. He talked me through overcoming the fear of death. He taught himself at a young age that death was imminent. In order to fully enjoy life, we must understand that death is a part of life, and that one day everything comes to an end.  That was the most profound cab ride ever. 

2) When you hand a hotel concierge your corporate american express card, they let you check into your room super early and give you a really nice suite. 

3) In November 2010, I took a direct flight on United Airlines to Las Vegas. A man named Dave sat next to me and told me that he worked a few miles outside of Vegas in an area that's supposed to replicate old Las Vegas. Not really fact checking anything I just edged him on to tell me more about his life. He spends his day dressing up like a cowboy. 

4) I always have this fear traveling south. It's largely due to a very stereotypical view of "the conservative southern states". However every southern state I've been to such as Arkansas, Oklahoma, Louisiana, Texas, etc, all my encounters have been quite pleasant.  The majority of people in the south says, "please and thank you" and the men regardless of age will hold the door, pull out the chairs, and typically treat you like a lady. It's been real nice but I also know it's a certain privilege to some. 

5) Again, Las Vegas 2010 and the moment I realized I had booked a red-eye for the wrong day. I had already checked out at the hotel and at the airport was where I realized the mistake. My friends and I spent a night at Mccarran International Airport in our very own corner ( there are pics). That night, the same 3 songs replayed over and over and over again. I  tweeted at the airport about the repetition of the songs and they just apologized and said the satellite radio wasn't working.   

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Ask yourself the hard questions

Cliche as a book but not practiced often enough. I’ve met so many people who lie to themselves about who they are. What we have to understand is that, who we are and who we want to be are two different things.

Case scenario 1 - This guy is a self proclaimed business executive. He says he has worked in the music industry for many years, is BFF with a few b-list celebrities and deserves to be earning 6 figures in the next year or so. But after a few background checks, the only thing that comes up after his name are articles he had written himself proclaiming these things. Power to him on acting the part he wants to play but because his lies are so obvious, it makes it hard for him to earn any credibility.

His story is not unique.

There are also way too many people who make excuses for themselves by comparing and saying they are better than specific people. For example, "I'm too busy to work out", “I’m not as fat as so and so”, “so and so beat me out for the job I want”,”I want a new job but I don’t want this new job like so and so”, and the list goes on. It’s easy to compare yourself to someone beneath you right? Makes you feel better so you don’t have to work to improve, is that it?

In order to truly make a positive change in your life, you need to stop comparing yourself to someone and really ask yourself the hard questions - who am I and what is it that I really need to work on to be a better version of myself?

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Seasons change but people don't.

A part of you hopes that the people you once knew have changed for the better. But that of course doesn’t always happen. You try really hard not to judge but you can’t help but ask, “how did you get this way?”.

You don’t mean for it to be offensive, even though you feel like the biggest douche for thinking this, but it comes from a place of true concern. How did you reach this perspective or have you always been like this?

In the past you’ve given this person the benefit of the doubt, all the time. You’ve pushed and pushed and pushed them towards goals that they thought they wanted but would always make excuses to not accomplish. They drain you with their negative energy and a mature you would rather surround herself with like-minded positive people. Funny part is -everything about this feeling, this moment, and this epiphany is all too familiar.

Some things don’t change.

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Resolution Check In

Okay so I probably should have checked in on my resolutions from earlier this year at the half a year mark. We're now going into the final stretch of the year so I'm a little late on this.  Truth be told, I haven't really thought about them.  It was only because I was doing some maintenance on this site did I revisit them.  So how did I do?

Resolution 1: Write, Write, Write  Goal: Write 1 blog post a day or work on my book.  Assessment: I haven't been writing 1 blog post a day and I only have 5 pages of my book written..... but I'm still focused on crafting my skill as a writer so this is a good sign. 

Resolution 2: Eat Clean & Stay fit  Goal:  Minimum gym 5 days a week and continue eating clean. Assessment:  I don't go to the gym 5 days a week but I do substitute a few days with a new active routine like running, yoga, or hiking. I find that going to the gym everyday can be a little dull. Changing it up a little bit is helpful to keep momentum. And about the eating clean part? Well, there are way too many cheat days that I would have liked. 

Resolution 3: Forgive & Forget Goal: Forgive people who've hurt me in the past.  Assessment: I've forgiven. I don't hold them accountable for my pool of hurt. I don't have hard feelings but I'll be candid if you ask me my opinion about them. It's funny because someone recently did ask me how I felt about them and I told that person the truth. I said my life is so much better and it didn't come from a resentful place. It came from knowing that they were bad influences in my life and I'm in a better place. Not necessarily better than them, but just in a place that I'm more comfortable being in. And I knew at that moment that I didn't hate them anymore because I didn't feel the shaking urge in my bone to throw something when I said their names.

Resolution 4: Spend Money On Tangible Items  Goal:  Save money and use any expendable cash towards goals & experiences.  Assessment: Impromptu trip to SanFran twice. Made it to my Gbig's wedding in DC.  There is now Vince, Issa London, Kate Spade, Diane Von Furstenberg, and Jcrew in my closet.  Buying "grown up" clothes and cleaning out staple pieces from your early 20s is definitely an experience. 

Resolution 5: Do Something Different Every Now & Then Goal: Do something different and new.  Assessment:  Fishing, Hiking, Crossfit..... definitely lacking more new experiences in this category.

How did you guys do?

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Superhero complex

Whenever I meet someone for the first time, my goal is to make the other person feel as comfortable as possible with me. I stroke their ego a little bit, gauge their likes and dislikes, and build from their emotional reaction to my judgement-free vibe. It's a solid strategy to warming anyone up and creating that foundation of trust. But when will I ever let someone get to know me?

I read a post earlier today that really made me think about my constant need to keep my guard up. This isn't to say that I'm a complete fraud and who I am isn't true, but it's the idea of truly letting go that I'm not really ready for. How do I really say to someone, hey here's 100% of me in front of you, my fears, my dreams, my desires and I'm showing this to you in complete trust that you'll understand me for me. 

I don't think I fear disapproval because I think people are absolutely capable of tolerating and accepting differences. I do think it's more of a fear of being misunderstood. Will you still get me when I've shown you my very core. Let me just say that it does still hurt when someone accepts you but doesn't understand you. Please acknowledge the difference. 

Another problem is trust. I can't trust myself to let the other person see me weak. It might be a little bit of a pride thing but I also think it's programmed into me.  I feel as if my role is to play this superhero who has an incredibly high tolerance of emotional pain and save everyone else who is hurting because they don't have that same tolerance. Therefore, I default into believing that you are incapable of helping me because I'm stronger than you. And because I can never truly share those intimate moments with someone, that magical bond cannot even begin to form.  

This is why I can't have a sidekick.   I fight my emotional battles alone and I make incredibly hard decisions alone because I'm completely secure and comfortable with that. But sometimes ever so randomly or inspired by another superhero's confession, there's a quick breeze of lost and lonesome that touches you. 

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What I Learned About Turning 25

You don't have to try so hard

You don't have to bend until you break. . . 

When I heard Colbie Caillat's “Try" the first time, it didn't really touch me as much as it does now. I think it’s because I’m turning 25 this month. Yup, approaching the quarter-life crisis.

I thought I would freak out a little more about this because I always had a certain vision of who I will be by 25.  But as we all know, life tends to throw shit at you in these awfully annoying detours called lessons. Typically, these lessons derail you far from where you thought you were going, especially if life believes that you’re not meant for the path that you were on. 

Cliché  right?  

But it’s freaking true.

This cliché gave me peace. It gives me closure as to why failing is okay. Not to be confused for an excuse, the idea is that after giving 100% of your effort and if you're still failing, you might be meant to shine bright in a different way.

Conan O’brien reiterates this idea the best during his commencement speech at Dartmouth. You can view it here 

As some of you may know, I’m a dreamer and I’m ambitious. These two qualities creates a secret poison called naivety. Naivety isn’t quick and lethal either. It’s the kind of poison that slowly seeps into your bloodstream without you noticing and then after a long while of ignorant bliss, decides to kill you. One day you’ll realize that you’re young and naive and when your adrenaline rush is over you start to notice that your soul has been deteriorating this whole time. 

Dark and dramatic, yea?

Well, it's the cold hard truth.  You’ve been pushing yourself and for what?

You’re trying to meet expectations and standards that you don’t even agree with and why?

You’re trying to be somebody because you don’t want to die a mediocre death but your need to leave a legacy might make you do some pretty stupid things.

Finally when you feel like you don’t know who you are anymore and you’ve hit rock bottom, it only means one thing; naivety wins. That’s what dreamers go through when they’re unsure if this is still their dream. 

I was that poor girl from an urban city who drove a shitty 1998 Honda civic with a busted muffler that sounded like a fart canon. I talked like a hood rat because my vocabulary was nonexistent. My public education didn’t educate me like they did for kids in the suburbs. 

Getting accepted into a private university was such a huge accomplishment. I was the first in my family to go to college and one of the few of my friends to pursue a higher education. I remember thinking that because I reached this great milestone in my life, I needed a new persona. 

Well, I grew up poor so naturally after, my dream was to become rich. I dreamed about becoming this intimidating socialite who would host events and party with famous people.  I dreamed about one day creating my own online media company that fights against mainstream stereotypes and lead an army of activist and artists to wherever we needed to be.  This was the kind of legacy that I wanted. So I did that, or tried to for a little while.  

I hosted college events with famous people, made a name for myself nationally, maxed out my credit cards to make it all happen, and bent over backwards for everyone. I wanted to be somebody, I wanted to be liked, and I wanted to thrive.  But eventually it got really cloudy. Friendships became business transactions and symbiotic relationships was all I gave time to. I had my guard up all the time because I didn't know who to trust. And I kept pushing myself because I thought I needed to do everything to become successful.  

The adrenaline rush lasted until I burnt out and realized I didn’t like who I became. The poison pushed me to reevaluate what was important to me.  

I live a way more quiet and humble life now. Not the 25 that I expected to live while I was in college. My needs are minimal. My title doesn’t matter as long as I get to do what I love in a stress-free way.  My friends are loyal and wonderful. My spiritual health is alive and made valuing patience, kindness, and empathy a priority.

I feel more at peace now. 

So, take your make up off

Let your hair down

Take a breath

Look into the mirror, at yourself

Don't you like you?

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Hello, Goodbye.

Thinking about The Fault in Our Stars is reminding me that my biggest fear is having to say goodbye to someone that's leaving. 

The action itself involves a raw, vulnerable, and seeing into my soul part that I'm incapable of handling. By awaking that unwanted truth, and to admit how much I care while acknowledging your choice to walk away is so tear-jerkingly wrong. It's like a really bad Greek Tragedy. There's no room for the Odyssey and all that irony in my life.  

When I was about 5 years old, my parents got into their first big fight. My dad, with his pack bags was on his way out the door as my mom caught me sobbing by the window. She yelled to him, “ Look! you’re making her cry. That’s your daughter. ” And as he turned around to come hug me,  I didn’t and couldn't understand what was going on. The unrequited attachment I felt was the only thing I knew for certain.  That's the thing about one-way goodbyes. They're uncomfortable, out of your control, and unforgiving.

I don't think these feelings are unique to me. As Hazel Grace believes that funerals are for the living,  I believe that Goodbyes are only good for the person leaving. It's never really meant for the person that's being left behind. . . right? 

*Disclaimer: my parents are still together! 

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Finding Family

I've been at a tug of war with the thought of writing this for a long time now. But I think this story needs to be told. On the eve of my vacation on the west coast, to an area in which I have blood-related family that I can't talk to, and to a house that my parents own but can't house me, the anger and betrayl feels more alive than ever. 

Haunted by my inability to “let it go”, it is causing me to tell this story via the internet. How sad but hopefully entertaining to some of you.

Family History: In the early 1980s, my dad’s family escaped persecution from the Lao government and sought refuge in the United States. From what I’ve been told, my grandfather was apparently accused of treason and while the details are unknown in regards to his time in jail and how they technically got here as a whole, the point of the story is that they went through a lot in search for freedom. My dad has 6 other siblings — 3 sisters and 3 brothers. The oldest sister was first to marry, and she married a man in Arkansas with the last name Vongphachanh. This is why for the first 18 years of my life, I went by the name of Phinnphana Vongphachanh. It wasn’t until he had passed right before I started college that my dad decided to go back to his roots and we ultimately embraced becoming a Thikeo.

My mom is a quarter Lao as the Vietnamese bloodline in her family runs deep. Her father was a Vietnamese military man and left during the Vietnam war. He had presumed to have died during the war so my mother was raised by her mother and grandmother, both fiery and fierce women. I get a lot of my strength and personality from this line.

My mom left Laos with my grandmother and great grandmother in search of the American Dream. They had also spent some time in a Thai concentration camp before they arrived by airplane to the United States. I believe she had the option of choosing either France or the U.S but she believed that Lady Liberty could offer her more freedom.

My dad met my mom at a laundromat in Stockton, California and began dating. When they had planned to marry, family drama ensued. For whatever reason, my dad’s mother was extremely unhappy about the marriage. Rumors range from the fact that my mother was not fully Lao to a feud about money. Whatever the reason was, my parents chose love and flew all the way to the other side of the country.

This is how I was born in a seaside city called Lynn within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

I was raised by my vietnamese grandmother and great grandmother until they passed. Up until kindergarten I was fluent in Vietnamese. After 1997, our family was just the four of us, and we can make it if we try, just the four of us. . . Anyway. . .

The Family Reunion: After my dad’s mom apologized to my mother we all tried reconnecting. There has only been two times in all of my 25 years that I’ve seen that side of the family. The first time that I met anyone from my dad’s side, I was a freshman in high school. At that point in time, I didn’t know anyone’s Lao or American names nor did I actually know how many cousins I had. We were all basically strangers.

The second time I attended a family reunion was this past January in 2014. My parents bought a house in Sacramento in about a 5 mile radius from my dad’s family. I was really excited about this new chapter as I’ve secretly longed for a more meaningful family connection. However my visit provided a much different perspective, one that made me realize how much a connection can’t be strengthen by bloodline alone.

Perspective 1: I’m too much of feminist and an activist. I have issues with being submissive. The fact that the women in my extended family are extremely submissive to their husbands disgusted me. Some might say that this is just a sign of cultural respect and to which I will only cater to my grandpa. But if you’re a mid 35 year old man, you can get that fucking beer yourself. One of my uncles has this extremely arrogant vibe to him and his wife caters to him hand and foot. This same aunt also never made any eye contact to me and immediately made a racist comment when she wrongly overheard that I may have been dating a black man. She’s about in her mid 30s so her age doesn’t allow me to throw her ignorance under the rug. Sexist and racist behavior truly rubs me the wrong way and it’s a constant reminder as to why I try to keep a distance from certain sexist traditions within the Lao community.

Perspective 2: We are all strangers. Not once did my uncles, aunts, or cousins tried to get to know me beyond a surface level. They didn’t ask me any of the important things such as my political, spiritual, and religious beliefs. It was kind of like, “ oh, you’re here. You’re pretty. It’s good to see you.” They didn’t ask what I was doing for work, what my intentions were in the future, or what kind of things that inspires me. It doesn’t help that there’s this really annoying stereotype that my brother and I are the rich, stuck up Northeast folks. Which might explain why when I tried to get to know them, I got one-worded responses. Little do they know the struggles that my family went through all alone on the east coast. We worked hard for everything.

Perspective 3: The segregation between generations is real. There was a “grown up only” table at the dinner that I wasn’t allowed to be a part of. No one from my generation was allowed to sit at this table and I wasn’t the only one in my mid 20s. This bothered me a lot because during my family gatherings or BBQs in MA, everyone sat together and talked to one another. I love hearing stories from family and it really bothered me that this kind of thing made sense to them. How else does family get to know each other when you don’t eat together?

The New Family Drama:

The reason why I can’t go visit my Sacramento home or stay there during my trip this week is because my cousin is doing something illegal in it. Sparing you the details, you all can guess what happened next. I confronted my family in probably the worse way possible or at least the most unexpected way that a “pretty Lao girl should” and my parents told me to back off in order to save face.

I know that my story isn’t unique to me. I feel as though a lot of second generation children of refugee parents have similar events or feelings. It’s as if we long for this deep family connection that for whatever reason isn’t available to us. The theme is common, whether it’s because of family drama, PTSD from the escape to the US, or the cultural traditions and divide, such culprits don’t allow us to effectively communicate with one another.

We just don’t know how to be a family.

As I grow older and become more interested in my family’s history and journey to this country, I long to understand how each and every one of them influenced my growth and perspective on life. Don’t you? What is your family story? How did they get here and how has their journey influenced you?

[hayleewrite]

Birdcage

Is it really a coincidence that this particular feeling keeps reoccurring? Constantly ticking away like a clock and once the alarm sounds, the explosion occurs. Again and again comes a cycle of pain, silence, happiness, and false hope.  Whatever the issue is about, it derives from the state of unhappiness. It comes from the fear of being misunderstood and the complexities around what it means to compromise.

What does it really mean to compromise?

I know what it shouldn't feel like. It shouldn't feel like being trapped in a birdcage.