Memory 51

Today is week 51 of #TWmemorymondays // #tiffanywongartmas edition!

TWO more weeks of memory mondays!  SO CRAZY.  This memorymondays/tiffanywongartmas features a memorymonday post from July - week 29.  Read it HERE.

This memory Monday was significant for me, because it was part of my process: seeing that accepting my body was crucial in accepting myself as a Chinese American woman. My struggle with body image is NOT separate from being free from racial shame. It is NOT separate from loving others - in fact, it’s absolutely crucial.

I think there is this sense that it’s self indulgent to love yourself or accept your worth. Or if you do, you won’t have motivation to be healthier or to improve. What a lie! That’s how capitalism and our white supremest society gets us to spend money on our insecurities (that they set in place).

Putting the practice of accepting and thanking my body (which is always in flux) has been key to my growth this year. I will be sharing more commitments and practical tips as tiffanywongartmas progresses!

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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 51/53. 'Body' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 52

Today is week 52 of #TWmemorymondays // #tiffanywongartmas edition!

Happy Christmas Eve!!  Sending love to you!

Today I'm continuing yesterday's conversation about commitments, and I'm going to revisit a commitment that came out of #TWmemorymondays - week 13.  I write about an interaction with my friend @  that made a big impact on "negative" emotions and assumptions I make about people having or not having kids.  Swipe to read that memorymonday.

This the commitment I made:

I will NEVER ask anyone (regardless their marital status) when they are having kids.

Another way it was helpful for me is how good it is when people are vulnerable with their true emotions.  Even if its anger.  When it's expressed in a way that is vulnerable and not in a controlling or violent way, it can be so healing.  Something I've talked a lot this year is how people with privilege aka white people are naturally positioned where they want to tone police and control POC's expression of emotion - so that the white person can feel comfortable.  There's so much emphasis of how POC's can and cannot express themselves, and rarely is there attention of how white people should always yield their power and actually enter in grieving the reality of our white supremest society - and how they contribute to it!  SO many stereotypes and caricatures that POC's are afraid to be categorized as: angry black woman, dragon lady, tiger mom, or simply the person who always pulls out the "race card."

All emotions are good emotions.  The goal is to foster connection and an environment where there is safety to be vulnerable.

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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 52/53. 'Emotions' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 50

Today is week 50 of #TWmemorymondays // #tiffanywongartmas edition!

In April, I listened to Oprah's interview with Dr. Maya Angelou, and I was OBSESSED with two things from that conversation.  If you want to listen to it, look up Supersoul conversations podcast featuring Maya Angelou - it's in two parts.  So I've read her work before and really love her poetry, but hearing her voice did something to me.

The first moment was listening to Oprah and Maya Angelou talking about courage.  They were recalling this incident: Maya Angelou was hosting a party that Oprah was a guest at.  From across the room, Maya Angelou heard a homophobic/racist comment from one of her guests.  She stops the party, and asks the person to leave with their guest.  Then, addresses the rest of the guests and said, "I will not allow it in my house."  Maya continues talking about how powerful words are - it can be poison to demean a person to be less than human.

Oprah asks Maya, how do we stop those hateful comments?  How does she get the courage?  Maya explains that it doesn't just happen all of a sudden...you have to develop courage.  She says that COURAGE is the most important virtue, because you can't practice any other virtue consistently without courage.  So you practice courage in small ways, and you realize that you like yourself after it...so you do another small act of courage.  Then over time you develop the kind of courage where you can stop a party and escort a person to leave your house.

OMG I probably repeated this story to myself a million times and then a million times to my friends.  It gave me so much encouragement on having patience on practicing courage.  Courage to speak up, because I believe in deep/true peace and not a shallow/superficial "peace."  It makes me feel emotional even thinking about hope of becoming someone who practices my values as much as I intellectually am convinced of it.

The second moment is when Maya Angelou talks about how God LOVES her.  Watch my instastories to hear that part of the podcast.  In her old age, I could hear the softness of her heart, and it made me cry as I was walking home from the bus.  My heart was bursting hearing her talk about God and God's expansive love that is big enough for all.  I love the way she embodies courage, love, deep confidence, creativity, and zest for life.  I will forever remember my experience of discovering my responsibility as a human through her voice.  Lastly, here is a quote from her that I love dearly:

"My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who and how you are.  To astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness.  Continue to allow humor to lighten the burden of your tender heart."

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Thirty one days of December.  Thirty one days of #tiffanywongartmas.  // 2018 edition. 10. // 'Dr. Maya Angelou' . Mixed media //

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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 50/53. 'Dr. Maya Angelou' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 49

Today is week 49 of #TWmemorymondays // #tiffanywongartmas edition!

DAY THREE // #TIFFANYWONGARTMAS // FEBRUARY

In February of this year, I wrote, "FEBRUARY has been quite a month.  I feel like my heart has exploded and my eyes are opened this month in a good and hard way.  I think I'm confronting and recognizing my ethnicity as an Asian American for really the first time.  It sounds so crazy!!  I've obviously always known it, but I've never dove into it in regards to my parents (who were immigrants from Hong Kong)  or as an American or living in the predominant white culture.  I'm taking baby steps, and I have a feeling its going to be a long road."

And then I went into the article by NPR titled "'Model Minority' Myth Again Used As A Racial Wedge Between Asians and Blacks." (If you haven't read it yet, google it please!)

I remember exactly how I felt about it all: sad + angry.  I was sad because I felt like I lived so much of my life without putting much energy on my identity as a Chinese American woman.  There is so much to it...its hard to put words to it because of all the layers.   I felt like I had to grieve things that I lost because I wasn't intentional of looking back at how I saw myself and others.  There was (and I'm still working on it now) so much shame that lived in me because I didn't match the standard of my culture (which I know know equates to white culture which equates to white supremest culture.)

I was angry about learning about the model minority myth, because I couldn't believe that I was learning about it just then.  I couldn't believe that nobody talked about it, nobody told me about it,  I didn't know about the Chinese Exclusion Act...I felt embarrassed that I was so late to knowing about all the things.  Knowing about the model minority myth changed how I saw and talked about myself and fellow asians...it showed me how systems of oppression are incredibly strategic.  It's not just a "broken system" - they are groups of white powerful people who made decisions to oppress POC.  They were so intentional about pitting asians and blacks against each other so that whiteness can remain supreme.

AND that's what gave me a whole lot of energy in February and the fire is still burning strong!

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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 49/53. 'Myth' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 48

Week 48 of #TWmemorymondays.  I have a shorter post today for a change! This time it is a very good account of an uber (or it might have been a lyft?) ride.

Everytime I get into a ride share I hope that I won't have to engage in conversation OR have to engage a racist white person.  This time I was happy to be in a conversation where there was genuine connection.

We talked about a lot of things...one of things was about his son - how has a 7 yr old son who was bullied, how difficult it is to try to equip his son about the realities of racism (they're black), how to protect his son from fear of the world while not being naive of being black in america.  And then he told me this story of a recent uber/lyft passenger:

He picked up this white man, and after chatting alittle, the passenger asked the driver where he's from.  He replied that he's from Toronto, but has immigrated to the states many years ago.  The white man pushed further by asking where he REALLY was from.  We all know how this goes.  So the driver said, "I'm from toronto - born and raised - like what I just said." OK then the white guy gets MAD.  He gets aggressive and said "no that's not where you're from!  I can hear that you have an accent, and that's not where you're from!"  Then the driver gives him the lowdown of how that's racist, and demanded him to leave his car.

The passenger is flustered and said that he's not a racist - and that he misunderstood him.  He tries to shake the driver's hand!!  Haha!

The driver wouldn't have it, and told him to get out.  And the white guy left.

Isn't that so insane??  Racists always tell you that they're not racist.  It's so crazy to have that much confidence to tell someone that they are LYING about their origins.  It's so bold to get mad about not having your assumptions confirmed.  To have that kind of confidence!!  Talking about white fragility...so white people can cry and get angry about having their privilege and assumptions challenged, but black people and POC are immediately pegged as angry + dangerous + too sensitive when standing up against racism??

And to think that many people think that racism doesn't exist.  ALSO if a white person says they aren't racist, 99.9999999% of the time they are the worst kind.  The kind that this country's white supremacy needs to stay alive and thriving.  That kind of blindness to white privilege and institutional racism is dangerous.

On that note, have a great rest of your week!  

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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 48/53. 'Really' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 47

Week 47 of #TWmemorymondays!  Today we are going to chat about REVERSE RACISM.  #fun

Reverse racism has come up a lot this past year, where there have been many comments and conversations about how POC can be racist against white people.  Many many people think that it's possible (which I was surprised by recently about how common this thinking is).

First, let's talk about words/semantics and how important they are.  They are important because culture is formed/changed with words and how we use them.  So the dictionary definition of racism is "prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race based on belief that ones own race is superior."  I can see how people think that racism against white people is possible with this definition.  I think that this use of the word "racism" is lacking and in my perspective harmful, because it doesn't include systemic oppression, which seems crucial when talking about racism.

Taking in consideration of our societal structure of white supremacy, the combination of prejudice + power is what makes up racism.  So if you're at the top of the power system aka you're white, no matter how much money you have or how many disadvantages you have against you, you are still at the top of the system and are "normal" in the sight of how America has been designed.  Therefore, POC's cannot be racist against white people, because we don't have the same power white people were born into (aka white privilege).  

What this sounds to a lot of people is that that is discrediting suffering and injustice that white people experience.  No one is saying that.  POC can be prejudiced against white people for sure, but that doesn't deserve the MINIMALIZATION of systematic oppression of POC by turning a blind eye to white privilege.  See @Rachel Cargle's white supremacy triangle.  Minimizing systemic oppression = supporting white supremacy.  So is indifference.  If you feel defensiveness rise up, it's time to turn that energy into seeing your privilege and doing some personal deep work.  I love this quote from @rachel.cargle, "White privilege isn't a stab at your character it's a reminder of the world we live in.  Acknowledging it proves a shift in our culture.  Dismissing it twits the knife in our country's already wounded system.”

Let me say it again.  WHITE PEOPLE CANNOT BE OPPRESSED..And it's ok and needed to call out misconceptions of how systemic racism works..On a personal note, there's been jokes and comments that I hate white people.  That's so not true!  Just because I call out an oppressive system, doesn't mean that I hate white people.  I hate the inequality and the lives that's it's taken, and I hope you do too.  At the end of the day it's striving for dignity and equality for all people - addressing it from both an individual and systemic level.  I hope that my heart comes across.  There is so much more for me to learn and change, and that there is still a far way for me to go..I have many articles that I've read about this that are really helpful.  DM if you're interested

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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 47/53. 'Reverse' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 46

This is week 46 of #TWmemorymondays. I'm home in California, and am currently with my sister, brother-in-law, and new born baby niece!!! So I decided to revisit something that happened a couple days ago - you might have read about it already. At the end, I have some new thoughts. So here is what I wrote:

"Wow. So yesterday I was in an uber, and the driver was a white man probably in his early 60s. And he asked about what I do and about my art. He talked about learning about modern art for a while (like too long), and then brought up something he read about with a black artist involved. And I shared that my art explores race, identity, and being in America. He was shocked! And then called me "Oriental," which I quickly corrected him that I and Asians don't like being called that - it's offensive to me - because "Oriental" is used to describe objects and not people. I explained that I would like to be referred to as Chinese or Asian. He was silent about it. Then goes on and called me that two more times.

Then proceeds to tell me that ASIANS don't encounter racism and ONLY black people do. !!!!!!! And I said that's absolutely not true!! I've not only seen it many times and have encountered it many times too! He keeps on explaining to me that asians are seen as educated and well respected in America - and that's Asians really aren't oppressed. And then I said that's part of the model minority myth that was put into play to pit Asians against black people - which was post Chinese exclusion act that lasted into the 40s. So what he said is part of systematic racism and a total misconception. And he said that's true that there was racism against Asians in the 40s - but not now. Because no one he knows is racist against Asians, and that "there is not a racist bone in his body." I said "I don't know about that!"

THIS is what I'm talking about when I say well intentioned white people supporting a racism system. I don't care if you're older. It's dangerous. It costs lives. It's violent."

I have some new thoughts about this. FIRST: that conversation cost me emotionally/mentally/physically next to nothing. It made me mad of course! But compared to more "mild" conversations I've had to people I know and care about...that conversation with the Uber driver was NOTHING. So I'm learning how to read my body and emotional capacity well, and this was helpful to know.

SECOND: mansplaining and misogyny was very present. He heard what I said (he didn't really listen to me though) and went on to tell me that I was wrong and he didn't believe what I had to say about MY OWN experience. Very very classic. The intersection of my ethnicity and gender contributed to this dynamic (I highly suspect). It's very bizarre when people try to defend their not-racist-badge only to prove the complete opposite.

THIRD: white supremacy usually hides itself behind well meaning "nice" people. The whole conversation was very "nice" toned while the content was very ignorant and racist. This is how racism thrives!

Lesson: if you're EVER defending how you're not racist, you definately are. Allies of POCs are first to admit privilege and biases. They listen. They believe. They are first to yield. They put in the work.

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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 46/53. 'Listen' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 45

WEEK 45 of #TWmemorymondays!!  We are nearing the end - I can't believe it.

If you didn't know, every week I talk through the memory through instastories, I then paint the piece, and lastly I write about it here.  I think you get a better sense of me if you watch the stories, because you can see me process through it face to face.  I have basically ALL of the memories/pieces in my highlights.

This week I have to first tell you that my sister had a baby last night!!!!  And I'm a first time aunt!!  The baby's name is Emery Selah and she is so loved.  I just had to share that with you!

Ok the memory is another collective memory that represents a whole lot of conversations that I've had with many people.  I'm going to expose what happens to me on the inside when race comes up (mostly when I talk to white people).  It starts with an effort of being as optimistic as possible and being chill about it, because this could be a really great conversation - and that it's good to talk about.  Under that there's a lot of fear.

Fear that they will say something that's racist (either in a subtle or obvious way - usually with a big dose of uninformed well intentioned ignorance).  Fear that I might have to say something that pushes against that - and then having to face defensiveness, white tears, or having them not understand what I'm trying to say.  Fear that I won't have the right words.  Fear that it might make it awkward (at best) or damage the relationship.  Fear that I might not say anything, and I'm going to have to manage my guilt.  Fear to be seen as overly PC and sensitive.  Fear that if the conversation doesn't go well, how will my body/mind/emotions will react - I know it won't be good.  So many fears - some make it up to my brain and some that stay floating in the back ready to come up.

In the different conversations, this thing happens where it's not about Asians, but it's about Black folks. Maybe it's because the other person feels like since I'm not Black there's more "safety" in being more free to express certain racist thoughts. Side note - the Asian community is pretty generally silent about race and is guilty for anti Blackness. So while I talk mostly about white people doing this - certain POCs are not exempt. I'll address that another time!! Anyways hearing someone dehumanize Black folks  and/or other POCs is just as traumatizing and hurtful. This doesn't just include talking negatively about POCs, but it's siding and defending the white offender.

It's a blantant ignorance and blindeyeing the bigger problem of systematic racism. 
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 45/53. 'Internal Dialogue' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 44

Week 44 of #TWmemorymondays! Let's jump straight in.

I'm addressing racism and the body (again) - how the body tells me something is wrong and then the mind catches up later. Sometimes WAY later.

Back in the college days (2009-2012) as we know things were different than today. People said and did incredibly racist things that wouldn't fly right now at least in my social circles. I remember a guy pointing out my asian woman-ness on a very consistent basis, and on different occasions would do these two things: pull the corners of his eyes to make them slant and also speak Chinese gibberish. All in the name of fun and love of course!!! (Side note: there's also an added element of my intersectionality, where not only was the color of my skin was pulling me down, but the patriarchal dynamic of a male holding social power in those situations was also against me.) What I want to address today is the relationship of my mind and body in those situations.

My mind: That's kind of rude. I don't think I like that at all. You should laugh though, because he's your friend. He doesn't mean it and it's just a joke. Everyone else seems pretty chill about it. Don't make this awkward. Ok the moment has past - just move on and forget about it.

My body - my gut seized up right away in a very particular way that I can identify when it comes to these kind of things. It said: You're hurt. That was hurtful and insensitive and rude and offensive and it's not right. You're angry. Angry that no one else seems to see this as offensive and that you're friend would even say and do that.

Another more recent memory came up while I was thinking about mind/body when it comes to racist comments. A friend of mine was referencing absurd and racist white people who would pull on the eye lids and fake speak chinese, while reenacting those two things in a mocking kind of way toward people who would do that. My body reacted first in that same way as it did before, and my mind justified it by saying: she obviously means to point out how awful people would do and say that and there's no reason why this would be actually offensive. So I let it pass.

It took me long while for me to figure out why my body reacted how it did: it's because not only does it trigger past memories, but it was painful to see a friend embody such offensive gestures and sounds especially as a white person. It forces me to witness and experience something that cuts deep from a person that I care about and who cares for me. I had a great conversation with them later, and I am so thankful that my body was patient with me in realizing those things. It brought not only healing to me, but also with the friend.

I'm still learning to be trusting and attentive to my body. My brain is so programmed and influenced by our white supremest patriarchal society - I need to follow the promptings of my body and catch up to it. It has and will take time, but I'm encouraged with every situation, the time between the two are getting shorter!
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 44/53. 'Flux' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 43

Week 43 of #TWmemorymondays - it's where I share a memory of mine and paint inspired by the memory - while dispelling shame, addressing identity issues, and basically figuring out how to be a present and loving human by exploring the past. Every week of this whole year, I talk through my jumbled memory and thoughts through instastories (see highlights), paint, and then write about it here.

This week felt weirdly vulnerable to me...maybe because it calls out how this still is still so prominent in my life. OK let's get into it. This is (once again) a memory that isn't an isolated memory.

After college, which was a dark period of toxic relationship with my body, I went into the singer/songwriter world, where I wrote and performed a lot. I remember this particular show that had a bigger audience than usual, and I was anxious about it. It wasn't about music or logistics, but it was about wanting to be seen as skinny.

PAUSE: Let's talk about weight fluctuation. My weight naturally fluctuates from season to season, from different parts of my cycle, from year to year, as I'm growing older, from stress, and probably a million other factors. So I was hoping in that memory that I would be in an up swing in my fluctuations - where I had a slim body and face.

What I would routinely do is become super cautious or at least guilty of what I ate leading up to the performance. I would hope that I would either lose a couple pounds OR/AND be in the week after my period where I have the least water weight and bloating. Then the night before the performance, I would "discipline" myself to not have anything salty, because I knew that it would make my look heavier the day after because of water retention. No popcorn or salty snacks. I did that for many years before anything significant would happen - beyond shows. I might not go on a diet but I would feel guilty for eating anything that was a vegetable.

Honestly, I still have that mental mindset now. I definitely still do that no salt rule before important events, because I'm afraid that people will think or notice that I've gained weight. I recently have had anxiety of gaining weight, because winter is coming and cold weather weight happens to me every year.

As I'm writing and exploring wellness, having self kindness, mindfulness, race, and all the things, I think that I have to not dismiss this weight/body piece as often as I do. Because accepting and loving myself WHILE my weight does change and fluctuate is crucial in accepting myself as a Chinese woman etc. These are some reasons: 1. Skinny does NOT mean beautiful. 2. All the energy spent on how people perceive my body is harmful to me and others 3. Loving myself through change is directly connecting to loving others.

In my instastories, I offer two practical tips that I will try to adopt, and you might be interested in doing so too!

Lastly, I want to say weight gain/loss or not being able to gain/lose - it's all normal (unless you have an actual health problem that a wise doctor unswayed by the pharma culture has diagnosed). Your beauty and worth is infinite and is completely untouched by your weight. It's hard to believe, but I think that the more we practice retraining our minds, we can become lovers of self and humans.
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 42/53. 'Flux' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 42

Today is week 42 of #TWmemorymondays, and I'm doing this right before I leave California! I've been home for the past couple of days for my sister's baby shower. It's been SO good and restful. I really really needed to just get away and sleep in every morning, because - the past two weeks...enough said.

Going through a family vacation album from 2001 triggered a memory that I think is fundamental in my development and one that I remember SO vividly. Swipe to see photos of us on the deck of the World Trade Center.

In July/August of 2001, my family went on a Canadian and east coast vacation/your. I was 12 yrs old - braces, ultra self conscious (especially about my clothes), but also feeling grown up and had a certain confidence. We visited the world trade center, and I was bored. It was just a tall building with alot of business people in it. So fast forward to a couple weeks later.

I woke up pretty early in the morning. It was still dark, and I could hear my dad getting ready for work in another part of the house. I was in the top bunk, and I could hear my sister sleeping in the bottom bunk. And I had this feeling in my gut that something was very very wrong. I just laid there awake. And then I heard my dad rush to wake up my mom...and then he came to our room, woke us up, and told us to hurry into the living room where the TV was. It was still really dark. The first attack just happened, and then we watched the second one. My mom was crying and we all couldn't believe what was happening.

You all probably have your own memories of 9/11. 💔

So suddenly that visit to the world trade center just a couple weeks before, became so significant. I was reminded to be as present as I can. It’s also so great that my parents haven’t moved from my childhood home - so coming home always bring back so many memories that are almost preserved in the location. Like I’m writing this in the same place where my bunk bed was on 9/12.

See you all back in Chicago!
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 42/53. 'Towers' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 41

Today is week 41 of #TWmemorymondays, and it features this amazing piece written by my dear friend Brit (@cooperobinson ). It puts to words so many feelings and thoughts that I couldn’t have articulated better. The past two weeks have been so heartbreaking and painful for so many of us. For me, the article not only applies to male church leaders, but to ALL men and also ALL people from a higher place (unjustifiably) of societal power in relation to all different forms of oppression. For exams, like what Brit wrote, white people being allies for POC. Silence can be so loud. Thank you, Brit, for writing this and letting me share it! Hear more of my thoughts through instastories. Original post is in the link in my bio!
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By Brit Cooper Robinson:

An Open Letter to Male Church Leaders

Dear Male Pastors,
For two weeks, women in this country have been re-traumatized, humiliated, frightened, and utterly demoralized as we’ve watched the Supreme Court nomination process unfold. I have felt it myself. I’ve discussed it and cried about it almost daily with other women. Women I know, public figures, and women on social media have attested to the same. In some cases, the heaviness of this situation has manifested physically in us — headaches, sleeplessness, and panic attacks. In Chicago, while our city held its breath for the Van Dyke verdict, I realized this Supreme Court nomination is the closest I will come to understanding how African Americans feel every time a cop is let off after killing an innocent black man. I can only describe it as an almost suffocating feeling of oppression—the understanding that the system is so completely against my humanity. The exhaustion. The fear.

This week our government—in an almost fantastical fashion—confirmed women’s worst fears: we don’t matter. Our words, our injury, our trauma do not count. They value as nothing compared to a white man’s significance and career.

We’ve known this, as have the generations before us. But to see it on such full display (the President mocking Dr. Ford at a rally, the disparaging comments made by the masses on social media) has felt like a crushing weight.

For us, it is a message now reaffirmed far and wide; from playgrounds, prom nights, universities, corporations, and the highest court in our country: if you are a white man, you can get away with anything. Brock Turner was not an exception. Women and their words will not count. There’s no reason for men to listen, no reason to legislate, no reason to change. The old order stands. And so I will keep walking to my car at night with my keys between my fingers.

I was further hurt last week when nothing was said about it during church. I understand the complications of addressing issues related to politics from the pulpit but this has reached beyond politics. The politics are only symptomatic. This is about humanity and personhood. Women are hurting. Our faith does not exempt us from these stastitics: 1 in 5 women will be raped at some point in their lives. 1 in 3 women will experience some form of contact sexual violence in their lifetime. The statistics for Native women and women of color are worse. All women are intimately acquainted with the dehumanization of misogyny. I don’t need my pastor to address a partisan Supreme Court nomination hearing, but there is immense value in a male pastor affirming the worth of women. The cultural devaluing of women is so loud, so daily felt by all of us, I don’t believe church leadership can remain silent. 

One congregate I spoke to was frustrated with her husband’s response to the events of the last two weeks. We both agreed this experience is different for men. Culture has only recently demanded that this generation of white males even consider the other side. As with racial issues, this is something many of them are just now starting to try to understand.

But we need more. We need action.

Just like white people need to be allies and wield their privilege to help minorities, men must step up for women and make practical change. I’m more and more convinced that change will begin with the power of words.

Male Pastors, speak about this issue on Sunday. Not the nomination of Brett Kavanaugh, but about the message it sends to women — the very women sitting in the room where you speak. Listen to us and hear our pain. Affirm the church’s value and esteem for women. Acknowledge this is not a momentary experience for us. Give us your support and say it out loud. We need to hear it.
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 41/53. 'A Letter' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 40

Week 40 of #TWmemorymondays!

Today I'm going to write about a memory have that's woven into the fabric of my life, and that memory is being told: "stay pure for your husband." That phrase has many variations like "save yourself for your husband." I'm not specifically throwing shade to my parents, because it's much much bigger than that. Growing up, sex wasn't talked about explicitly, but there were many things that were implied when key words like "pure" and "marriage" were being said. My upbringing was conservative, and while my parents were for the most part pretty open minded - like most conservative christian households - many problematic things were there under good intentions. Not only were these ideas in my christian background, but the underlining idea was and is EVERYWHERE.

Those 5 words "stay pure for your husband" have some heavy implications. Let's dive into the first two words: "stay pure." What does that mean? It means to definitely not have sex before marriage and better yet engage or think about anything sexual. Which also equates to the idea of virginity. VIRGINITY: the patriarchal social heteronormative construct of seeing women's body as property. If you're not familiar with this, look into it please. Also how do you even define sex? What if you're not straight?

This is serious because in that kind of thinking - if you've been sexually assaulted, you've somehow have to bear the burden of not being "pure". In different contexts and cultures you will be killed for not being a "virgin" before marriage.

OK next three words "for your husband" - not only is it heteronormative, the reason to abstain from sexual activity is FOR my husband?? Like I already owe something to my future theoretical husband? So his sexual experience is expected and actually held in esteem, but mine would steal something away from him and our future?? Right?? It doesn't make sense.

This past week the hearings with Dr. Ford has really brought up a lot of things for me - especially the power of shame. I was just talking with friends how as single women, you can't win. You are shamed whatever you decide to do when it comes to sex: if you decide to engage in certain sexual activities, you're impure and probably taking something away from your husband. And if you decide to abstain from certain sexual activities, you're a prude and naive.

That kind of thinking strips me away from the dignity of seeing myself as a holistic being and that I have agency for making decisions for MY OWN health and wellbeing. The issue isn't whether I (or any woman) should or shouldn't do xyz - but am I being empowered to make decisions that prioritize my own holistic (emotional, physical, mental, spiritual, etc) health?

Shame should NEVER be part of that process. It doesn't matter what you have done or are or will do, you and I are whole, deserving of love, and deserve to love. That's it!

Alright, that's a lot and there are so many more I want to say.
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 40/53. 'Pure' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 39

Today is week 39 of #TWmemorymondays!

Most of you probably already know this, but I'm going to cover basic background for those who are new. My parents grew up in Hong Kong, and immigrated to California in their 20's. I was born in the Bay Area, and lived there until college.

When my parents moved here, they joined Chinese community church where they became very involved and found a new home in. Most of the people who attended this church also immigrated and mostly spoke Cantonese (which my parents did also). I was basically born into the community along with many of my childhood friends who were also second generation. (Swipe to see a photo of my mom and me in front of the church.) I have so many fun memories of playing with my friends after church during my parent's choir practices or meetings. SO MANY MEETINGS - but that just meant I went to my friends' houses and hung out multiple times a week.

A memory that sticks out to me is the smell of Chinese (the real kind) food filling the halls of church after the service has ended. After the church service and before my parents' choir practice, everyone who was part of the choir and their families had lunch together. Every Sunday, it was the routine to have lunch together for basically all of my childhood. The whole hall was filled a mix of chinese and english - because most of the adults spoke chinese and most of the kids spoke english. Just the combination of the smell, the anticipation of food, the sound of moving chairs, and announcement that people can get their lunch - it brings back such a feeling of comfort.

My family was part of that church until I entered high school, and then we moved to a church that was predominantly white. As you can guess, it was a huge life and culture change. I was of course part of many other contexts where I was a minority, but when it came to core community - I was usually around people who looked like me. The part that was most obvious to me was (white) people's nice cautiousness to approaching my family - like the cultural divide was a bit too much...kind of inconvenient. This was such a huge contrast where 

we were seen and really known in the Chinese community. In the white culture, that complexity seemed to be flattened out to one dimension - which is OTHER.

At the new church, my parents also sang in the choir, and there was dinner served there before rehearsal. Dinner was chicken alfredo with garlic bread, or chicken parmesan, and that sort of traditional "American" food. Nothing is wrong with that of course, but it does not ring true to my family's comfort/heart food - and talk about contrasting experiences!

Now I want to point out something that I've noticed in my life: when it comes to race and particularly socializing with POC, there seems to sometimes be this paralysis that white people get. It's caused by not wanting the POC to feel "other," and feeling scared they will say the wrong thing - or not say something they should say. As a POC, it's the worst feeling, because under the niceness there's a deep division and caricature-ing of me.

What SHOULD happen (in my opinion - can't talk for all POC), an internal acknowledgment that the person has a brown/black ethnicity and internally celebrating that, then proceed to be authentically curious about their life without bringing up the fact that they are a POC. THEN, when the relationship has been built, be verbally curious about their ethnic background/experience. And do all of this without the agenda of proving something to them or others or wanting to offer some information about how much you know about their culture.

Easy right?? It's not easy, because our white supremest society doesn't set up POC to be seen as equal of dignity and worth. I want you to see color and to celebrate/embrace it - this act is powerful, takes a lot of work, and VERY inconvenient. But that's the thing about breaking evil systems - it takes sweat, tears, discomfort, and many inconvenient interactions.
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 39/53. 'Church' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 38

Alrighty! Week 38 of #TWmemorymondays! I am feeling the drag of it being the 38th week of this project. But everytime I actually do it, it makes me feel better.

In my instastories (which you can always watch via my highlights), I started talked about this anxiousness that comes every so often. It's this fear that when the "hot topic" of race (or actually any another human issue) will be not so hot anymore and then everyone (mainly white people) will be over it. And then nothing really changed, because it was seen as a topic or another issue. I'm also afraid I'll lose my energy for explore, speaking up, pointing out human injustices whether it pertains to me or not. That's scary because its ALWAYS worth diving into because its a human thing and not another issue.

Ok let's get into my memory! Today I'm exploring how I remember growing up as a Chinese girl in America absorbing media. Basically as a child, I don't remember any representation of me (an asian american girl) on TV or in any movie or actually in any book! I watched all the movies and TV shows that anyone in my era (I'm 29 yrs old) did. Anime and foreign films or films with geishas don't count, because they weren't asian americans.

For most of my childhood and even into high school, I had this vision of my perfect self: green eyed, red curry haired, freckled, pale skinned girl. I wanted that look SO bad. It was influenced by a lot of media that I consumed such as Anne of Green Gables - I loved that carefree, tomboy, beautiful, sweet, a bit mischievous archetype.

As I grew up, here are some significant pieces of media that made a huge impact on me.

First, when I was 8, Cinderella with Brandy came onto TV and OMG. I was obsessed. That movie was amazing and the cast was amazing. Brandy was cinderella and the prince was ASIAN. It's on youtube, and I'm watching it again asap!

Second, when I was in my teens, I read Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan, and it blew my mind. Before that, I read a lot of literature set in Japan and Chinese immigrants in early colonial days. The Joy Luck Club was so special to me, because when I read it, 

I understood in a visceral way these tiny details that were in the book that I knew my white friends would have no idea about. I felt so understood as an Asian American having immigrant parents.

Third, when I was 14, the new Charlie's Angels came out with Lucy Liu. She was cast as a LEAD and she was American. She wasn't playing the typical mystical dragon lady or geisha!! She was funny, sexy, and strong - and her being asian wasn't the main focus of her role. WOW.

Fourth, remember Lana from Smallville? I thought Kristin Kreuk was the most beautiful woman, and part of it was seeing that she was part Chinese. I loved her so much.

It was so influential to see me represented in media, and it rarely happened. Since Crazy Rich Asians, thankfully that narrative is changing (its sad that we are now talking about it and its changing - it's freaking 2018). Better now than never! TV, movies, fictional books, podcasts - they all matter - because media is one of the fastest way to move culture. It's all political, because whether you want to admit it or not, your consumption of media informs you about yourself and the world you live in. It's an extension of people's hopes/dreams/fears/stories - sometimes it pushes us forward to seeing humanity and sometimes it perpetuates harmful narratives.

What were some influential casts that you remember growing up?
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 38/53. 'Represent' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 37

Today is week 37 of #TWmemorymondays! When I prerecorded my instastories for today, I wasn't feel that good about where I was creatively, and it helped talking about it and hearing from some of you. I just came back from a quick camping trip, and I feel SO MUCH BETTER. Fresh air and amazing friends can do so much for you.

Ok today's memory was prompted by a conversation I had with some of my family friends. I was telling them how I want to reclaim my native language, which is Cantonese. If you don't know, my parents grew up in Hong Kong - their first language is Cantonese - and then in their 20's they moved to California - and had me and my sister. Swipe right to see a picture of me when I was 3. (I'm going to use Cantonese and Chinese interchangeably.) .
Growing up, the first language I ever spoke was Chinese! And I didn't learn English until I was little bit older. Then, eventually around school age, I gradually stopped speaking Chinese and only spoke English. I've written about this before, there were many social/cultural (aka white supremacist culture) that played into why I felt like I needed to conform to being as "American" as possible.

Back to the conversation with my family friends, I explained that a big reason I haven't practiced more is that I feel a lot of embarrassment for speaking Chinese so poorly. I can understand Chinese 100% - meaning that my ears are tuned to perfectly. So when I hear myself speaking, it's SO embarrassing. I don't even feel comfortable trying it around my family, because it's so embarrassing. I felt and still feel embarrassed for not embodying such a big part of my heritage.

Talking about the emotion of embarrassment, it also reminds me about feeling embarrassment especially growing up about not being white in white spaces. Or my family not matching the "norm" in white places like the library. There's this deep sense of not belonging that expresses itself in embarrassment that I felt really strongly growing up.

It's this shame for not being able to fully embody being Chinese or being "American." And if you're familiar with my work or with this narrative, you know what I mean by "American:" the standard of being "American" is being white. english speaking, and preferably male. It's a lose lose battle.

Part of my growing and healing is shedding off shame and all it's form, and being ok with sounding silly and know that nothing about me is embarrassing. To own my worth and dignity means to be brave and know that it comes with the cost of being misunderstood and misjudged. That's an ok cost to pay!
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 37/53. 'Embarrassment' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 36

Happy long weekend! Today is week 36 of #TWmemorymondays. I mentioned this memory in passing awhile back, but I thought to dedicate a full memory Monday for it.

For most of my young adult life I've worn my signature cat eye or winged eyeliner. If you don't know what that is, it's a graphic black eyeliner that comes to a point beyond your eyelash line. And in college I felt like I got alot of attention for it for some reason. This memory is one of many others just like it.

In college, I was getting lunch at the cafeteria, and a acquaintance came up to me. A girl that I probably met once and have seen around alot (it was a small school) came up to me. And she said "I love your eyeliner! It looks SO good on you! I wish I could pull it off. You're Asian eyes shape really goes with it." As she makes a slant eye motion.

So I replied and said "thank you."

I felt kind of flattered that she went out of her way to give me a compliment, but I also felt a bit insulted and demeaned.

Back then I didn't have language or the tools to know what was happening. But now I can break it down!

The person who would say these kind of things to me (usually white female/male - yes men has made this comment to me) would notice something they liked about my makeup. They also saw that I was Asian simultaneously, and made an unconscious mental note about a caricature feature of all asians: they have slanty eyes. Then, they couldn't separate these two things from each other - so in delivering a compliment about my makeup, they can't help but also bring in my race.

It's so insulting to my culture and to me when the Asian culture is distilled to these attributes - especially knowing how almond shapes eyes have been used to oppress and make fun of Asians historically in America.

With good intentions, ignorance/racism reigns yet again. I've said and written this a million times, but systematic oppression is best protected by "good hearts." I think there is always room to grow and to even make mistakes, but brushing it under the rug because their intentions are good is so damaging.

In this particular situation about my eyeliner, what should have been said is: "I like your eyeliner!" Period!
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 36/53. 'Cateye' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 35

It is week 35 of #TWmemorymondays! This memory of mine is probably shared by MANY of you in some shape or form, because I have many others that are similar. If you have, I am SO sorry.

My focus today is addressing what it means to be an ally whether we are talking about race, sexual/gender orientation, sexism, or anything of that nature. So here we go:

A couple years ago, I was on my way home from downtown where I played music during lunch hour at potbelly's. I was waiting for the Redline train - Lake stop. When the train arrived, I entered the doors and saw a girl rush off the train, which was TOTALLY normal. What was just little odd was that no one rushed to take her seat, and everyone (there were probably 6 people standing around that area) kind of stood alittle away from where she was sitting. There was something awkward or uncomfortable in the air.

Next to her seat was this older scrawny man in a long beige coat slightly slouched over. I thought maybe he smelled funny, and that's why people were standing little bit farther...but nothing smelled offensive to me. So I sat down in the empty spot! Like any other person would.
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As the train was heading to the next stop, I noticed some movement from the man next to me. I thought that he was searching for something in his pocket, and I felt his hand touch my leg. And to my horror, he was masturbating while touching my leg.

Disgusted and completely horrified, I got up and exited the train immediately when I realized what was going on.

And I remember standing at that train stop feeling shaken up, dirty, and violated. I couldn't believe that just happened. And then it hit me...I felt guilty. I felt guilty for not have said something in that moment and for not calling that guy out publicly.

Ok now in hindsight, I have some thoughts about that awful experience. I feel mad at the people standing around, who clearly saw what happened to me and probably to the girl before me...and they said and did NOTHING. That creep is a sexual offender and needed to be arrested. What he did was illegal!

As someone who had to process all of that in the moment...

I wasn't thinking about how that guy needed to face the consequence of what he did. I was thinking about my immediate safety, and I bolted. In my dream scenario, I would have made a big scene and gotten that guy arrested! But in that situation, it would have been so much easier for the bystander to speak up/do something. (Obviously, at the end of the day the perpetrator has the ultimate responsibility. But back to my point.) To be an ally is where it counts!

My memory really motivates me to be always ready to say/do something when I witness verbal/physical oppression of any kind. It takes risking being misunderstood, mistaken, and disruptive. That's a risk worth taking, right?! So I don't really care how progressive, knowledgable, "woke", you and I are...that actionable piece is where rubber meets the road.

Last thing, if you're white, and you're worrying about being a white savior, speak up and do something anyways. You being misjudged is worth someone else's safety and well being.
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 35/53. 'Ally' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 34

Today is week 34 of #TWmemorymondays, and I have a special contributer today...my dear friend @darbimasters! We were chatting the other day, and she shared this memory to me that really moved her. It really resonated with me, and I hope with you too! This is what Darbi wrote:

"Ever since I can remember I've been treated a very certain way by men--cautiously. I have memories of awkwardly talking in superficial circles with men because it was assumed that deeper conversation made them (or me) susceptible to falling in love. Memories of men being stoic and unable to show they cared for my well being because it could potentially mean there was a hidden agenda.

But, a few years back, two very influential men in my life treated me... differently. They treated me with actual respect. These men were my coworkers. They never distanced themselves from me because they feared I'd ruin their marriages. Nor did they ever backed out of relationship with me afraid that "something" might happen.

They affirmed me as a human, an individual, a women who was intelligent and strong without fear that it would be interpreted as some sexual innuendo. It felt freeing. For the first time I can remember, men treated me with the dignity that every person deserves to receive.

And even so, even with this being such a positive experience that I will forever be grateful for, I still remember being warned by a women who worked with all three of us that: I needed to be careful with how close I was to my married male coworkers. I silently took her reproach out of embarrassment.

As I think back all those years ago, I wish I could have been bold enough to speak up and tell her what a positive experience it was for me to be known as a human by my coworkers. To be respected and to respect them in return. I mourn for all those years I remained silent believing it was good to be treated with caution and respectable to be held at arms length."

Chances are that you are familiar with this dynamic. Hear about my thoughts about it via instastiries.

Thank you, Darbi!!!!!

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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 34/53. 'Empower' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper

Memory 33

Week 33 of #TWmemorymondays! Also tomorrow is my birthday so wish me a happy birthday by becoming an art patron - link in profile. #shamelessplug

Here is the memory: When I was a junior in college, I was home for the holidays, and went to church with my parents at the predominantly white church that I went to starting in high school. I probably was meeting my family at the car, because when I was walking through the parking lot alone I was greeted by someone. It was a middle aged white woman that I didn't know, and she "Hello! How are you? How was your international student class?" or something to that affect. She also said all of that in a slow exaggerated pronounced way. .
I quickly corrected her and told her I've been going to that church for the past 6 years and that I grew up in the Bay Area. I mentioned my parents' names thinking she probably knew of them. Then, we went our separate ways.

OK so we are going to dissect this short interaction. We will start with the white woman.

No surprise to why that ww said what she said - we can all probably recite this together. She saw that I wasn't white, assumed that I was from a different country = not american and didn't speak english (or at least well). This happens because white supremacy reigns: being american means being an english speaking white person. In her good intentions of being welcoming and kind, she didn't consider that I might be an asian american. Yet again, good intentions do not excuse racism.

Nothing new there, but this is the part that I think is interesting: my internal response. I was insulted, but not because she was ignorant or was calling out my otherness. I was insulted that she was grouping me in with the international students...because I didn't want to be associated with them. I was american and better than them. At that time, I didn't recognize all of that, but now I see it clearly. SO essentially, I was also taking on the lens that the ww had. I was being racist for being so offended to be considered as an international student.

It's embarrassing to admit, and I don't think that all of that is behind me. I see that prejudice peek through all the time. But a key part of untangling racial shame and really owning who I am is being more honest. That deep work of picking out white supremacy in me is crucial to healing and NOT perpetuating the whole system.

If you're a white or a POC, that deep work is necessary. Reading and talking about it only goes so far.
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#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 33/53. 'Same Box' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper