Ok week 32 of #TWmemorymondays! Here we go.
This is my memory of the week: when I got my first period. I was 10.5 yrs old, and yes I know its early. When I started my period, it was a bit alarming and scary. I didn't really know if it was IT. I was nervous of the amount and if it was going to really hurt. It was all pretty overwhelming.
So I told my mom immediately what was happening, and she confirmed: YES I got my period. The next thing was really amazing and I'm so thankful for it.
My mom celebrated me! She said that this was very special, and that I was a woman. This is an exciting thing! I remember her telling my dad and my sister. The atmosphere was charged with excitement and celebration! I remember it so vividly.
I was the first among my friends to get my period (which I took pride in), and over the next decade I learned a lot of how to talk about it, when you can talk about it, when I shouldn't talk about it, and how to maneuver ALL the things that come with having a period.
1. I learned that you do NOT talk about it when males are around. 2. You need to say you have a "stomach ache" when you have cramps that can leave you feeling like death. 3. You should pretend that having periods is nonexistent. 4. Fear that you will leak and face public humiliation. 5. No one wants to hear about your gross period details. 6. And much more.
All that resulting in feeling a cloud of shame over having a period, which also bleeds (haha) into shame of being female. This is important to point out, because as I'm processing racial shame - body shame, patriarchy, white supremacy, all of it is connected. Accepting EVERY piece of me is crucial in this process, because it will affect how I see, love, and connect with others.
So a proactive step I'm taking this is not hiding the fact that I periods and if people feel uncomfortable about it - so be it. Also check out @dotcup - love menstrual cups SO much.
Last thing: there also isn't shame if you don't get your period whether its because of menopause, hysterectomy, hormonal issues, infertility. I'm not even going to go into women + having children - SO MANY things women can be shamed about...wanting children, not wanting children, how many children, how to give birth, choosing only to adopt, etc. We all need to support and empower one another. Period.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 32/53. 'Period' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 31
Today is week 31 of #TWmemorymondays where I share a memory of mine and paint inspired by it. This one is an extension of week 29 where I talked about body image. Watch my full process via today's instastory!
Growing up I hated my body and I always felt like I was too big (like most girls do, sadly). When I was a junior in high school I remember this one memory SO vividly. Someone came up to me after church where the highschoolers would hangout. I was wearing this old Navy t-shirt that I loved (it was grey with embroidered florals and a couple sequined appliques) and gauchos (stretchy material pants that were wide legged and cropped). That person was concerned - they asked me if I was ok because I looked anorexic.
It wasn't the first time someone said that to me. And my response was always the same: I was SO flattered. I would tell them I'm fine. Thankfully I didn't suffer from any eating disorder, which is a miracle. Even then I knew it was a twisted response, but it didn't change the fact that I felt so happy that someone thought I was skinny.
That instance of flattery was a "positive" emotional response, but it was just another outcome of how I hated my body. The sad thing is that after highschool, my body image that was tied to my worth got worse in college. That's for another post!
It's so sick (literally - mind, body, soul) to attach my sense of worth to my ever changing/evolving body. My body has been with my through everything and carries me so strongly. Embracing my body is a HUGE part of accepting myself as Chinese and discarding racial shame. Even more than that, if I can't embody self compassion and love, how can I extend that to others??
I shared three practices in my stories, and I'll share one of them to you here. During my day, I try to observe my thoughts. When I think a negative thought about my body (like how my belly isn't flat), I acknowledge that I thought it, and then turn to my belly and say: "You are beautiful and I accept you." Or a simple "thank you." Those negative thoughts happen ALL the time.
And I try everytime to be kind in a specific way. Because my beauty and value isn't defined by being skinny or as white as possible or "perfect" or productive.
All those ways of being "perfect" is so engrained to my body and mind, but I have hope that with tiny steps of retraining it, I will be more free each day. 🙏🏼
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 31/53. 'Skinny' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 30
Wow week 30 of #TWmemorymondays! Watch my instastories of my talking through my memory and also to watch me paint the piece.
Growing up up until junior high/high school, I had mostly Asian friends. My parents were close to other Chinese friends, and I was close to their kids naturally! Remember this thought process as a young girl. One family we knew had daughters that only spoke English even though their parents spoke Chinese. Another family we were close to had daughters who were fluent in both Chinese and English.
The kids that only spoke English seemed so cool to me - I really looked up to them. They wore cool clothes, had cool stuff, watched cool movies, and seemed so "American" to me. As a kid, I just wanted to be cool and to be accepted. Isn't that what every kid wants?
In the other family, the kids spoke fluent Chinese - in a really excellent way where they were familiar with Chinese colloquialisms and embodied the way of their parents (who were immigrants like my parents.) Then, they would talk to me in english with no accent and embodied a "normal" kid. The code switching was seamless.
Its interesting and sad now that I'm reflecting on it: as a kid, I aspired to be more like the first family's daughters, because they seemed cooler - because they were more "American." I put "American" in quotes, because how I defined "American" is how its wrongly defined in our white supremest society right now: being a true american means being white and not foreign. Speaking another language (unless its a european language), having an accent (unless its a european accent), presenting as anything but white is unamerican and totally not cool.
So I was spot on about how society sees immigrants and POC, and I didnt want to be associated with it. Crazy how much a kid absorbs from the unspoken values of society.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 30/53. 'Two' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 29
Week 29 of #TWmemorymondays...wow. I've been thinking so much about how my internal self meets my physical body, and how I've divorced them from each other or punished my physical self via my internal self. Does that make any sense?? Today's memory came from me asking myself: when was a time when I fully embodied myself shamelessly?
From as far as I can remember, my family and I would go to my grandparents' apartment in Oakland every Sunday or Saturday for dinner. Every week except for when we were out of town. My sister and I always looked forward to it, because we got to take bubble baths before dinner. We only showered at home - so it was a treat to take a bath at going gong and pau pau's (Chinese for Grandpa and Grandma) place. We probably did this until I was about 7 or 8 yrs old. We would be in the bath together, and it was so much fun! My grandma would peek in all the time to see if we needed towels or anything, and my sister and I would be so annoyed that she would check on us so often 😆. Swipe to see my little sister and I.
During those years I was free of body shame - I didn't have to think about my body or think about how other people perceived my body. I was fully in it - when I played, learned, ate, danced. Then when I was older like 7 or 8 (I think) things changed.
I was suddenly aware of my "imperfections" and how people might see me. I was very self conscious of my thick thighs, short legs, puffy belly, undefined arms, long neck, big lips, low cheek bones, big forehead, straight hair. My view of my body was really off - as I now see pictures of my average kid/Jr high body. I thought my body was huge and so unattractive. And I actually carried my fluctuation sense of self into highschool and it got really bad in college. Into adulthood I still struggle with it.
The past couple weeks I've been confronted with the desire to really love my body as is, because it is fundamental to accepting myself and to be truly present. I need to mourn all the years for viewing my strong perfect body so poorly - and for treating her so poorly. Consequently, seeing other bodies so poorly.
It's important because interacting with my body well is crucial in my journey in accepting myself as a person of color - Chinese - female. It's all connected.
Watch my instastories for a tip on how to accept your body.
I want to get back to that place when I was free as a young girl. Free to live in my body with compassion, embodied worth, and shamelessness.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 29/53. 'Body' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 28
Hello! Today I have week 28 of #TWmemorymondays for you. If you're new, every Monday of 2018 I paint a piece inspired by a memory. So far, I've been using this project to explore my racial identity and address racism. This memory of mine is a very common interaction that I think deserves to be explored and addressed.
Growing up I remember my sister being silly and flaring her nose (she must have been 3 or 4 and I was about 7), and I remember my mom saying that she shouldn't do that or her nose would stay flared...that would be a bad thing. I remember pinching my nose in the mirror thinking that maybe if I did it alot it might stay like that. There lots of comparisons growing up between my sister and I - if we inherited more of my mom or dad's nose. It was a known fact that the slimmer your nose was the more desirable to is. (Let's not even get into eyelids and shape. That's for another day.)
As I continue to grow into adulthood, I also notice that the standard of a "good" nose was also everyone else's (friends and media). It usually comes out as a compliment towards someone with a tall slim nose. As we know, nose jobs almost always are used to take out any bumps and to slim it down. Look at how pervasive plastic surgery is in the Asian community!
So as I'm learning about racial self erasure, this idea of wanting to alter your physical appearance keeps on coming up. This is key: It is always more desirable to have eurocentric features...and the flip side is that embodied features of people of color or unattractive. INTERESTING. This is no surprise as we know we live in a white supremest society where the standard of "good" and true belonging is being white. The closer you come to it, the more celebrated you are (but if you're a POC, you will never arrive.)
This one is hard for me, because my gauge of attraction is SO so so defined by white media. I can't help but see myself and others through that lense, and that's sad and racist. It's harmful to everyone. One step I will take away from this harmful white beauty standard is to never comment on someone's nose as being attractive for being slim or unattractive for being larger.
The next step is to acknowledge when that harmful beauty standard is kicking in - and then to remind myself of everyone's innate infinite humanworth and dignity.
One small step at a time. 💪🏼
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 28/53. 'Nose' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 27
Week 27 of #TWmemorymondays! Today's is a special one, because it features Angela and Tony's @sieteochoa daughters Maria and Margot. I'm in Grand Rapids visiting this family that is so dear to my heart. I prompted the girls (Maria is 5 and Margot is 3) to think of a memory or things that bring them joy/happiness when they are with their family. I think it's important to engage memory but making a memory is also so powerful - because it calls us all to be present.
Margot went first and painted an abstract piece that includes her mom, dad, Maria, and Robin (1 yr old sister.)✨
Then Maria went next and painted a rainbow, a tree, and a flower. 🌈
If you have or interact with kids, here are a couple notes of giving helpful direction when they paint. Have them think of a story or a feeling first, and then let them paint without any instruction when they start painting. You can ask more questions about the story or details of their paintings, but try not to give them ideas of what they could incorporate into their piece. The curiosity of their initiative and feeling confident is the goal!
This weekend I also had the honor to paint my first mural in their new home! It was really fun incorporating the family into the project and to see my art in the scale. ❤️
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 27/53. 'Make' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 26
Week 26 of #TWmemorymondays! Today's memory is how news about another country got internalized. Even in writing about this I'm realizing how it's always happening whether it's conscious or not. I mean how I get informed today actually forms my view of the world, other people, institutions, and myself.
So when I was about 9 or 10 years old I remember my parents telling me about the one child policy in China. In my memory, I thought it was just introduced that year, but in fact checking that today (haha!) I found that the lastweek was actually passed in 1979. AND WASN'T PHASED OUT UNTIL 2016. What?! I had no idea.
So the one child policy was China's attempt to control the population growth. Each family was only allowed to have one child with exceptions of course. Ok so they had this law, which is obviously ethically questionable, but what was the focus of what I remember was the conversation about girls vs boys.
The Chinese culture (like most other cultures including ours) has a patriarchal structure. Every Chinese family traditionally wants a son to carry the family's name and legacy. I remember Chinese relatives talking like this growing up like how I wrote in week 20. It's really sad thing for a family to not have a son - and other people would pity them. Not sure if it's as predominant now, but definately growing up I could tell it was back then. My parents thankfully didn't have that mentality.
Back to the the one child policy - because of the higher value of sons, I remember learning that many baby girls were being abandoned. I also saw the affect it had here in America, so many Americans were adopting Chinese girls because of the policy. Also I later learned that gender screening ultrasounds were a big thing, because for a while women were finding out they were having a girl and the would get an abortion. It was later illegal to so that, but the desperation to have a boy was still there.
All the news felt really distant when I was 9/10 years old, but what stuck was how favorism towards boys (sexism) was engrained into my cultural - and that wasn't so distant.
Many people disapproved of the abondoning/termination of girls, but the favoring over boys was still very much blatant. I feel like these kind of things made its way of how I view myself as a female...that boys and girls are equal technically, but everyone knows that boys/men are alittle better. No one was saying it, but everything pointed to it. How could I not internalize it? I feel like most of the time the things that aren't said explicitly are the most dangerous.
And once again, our world and society right now isn't that different.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 26/53. 'One' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 25
Week 25 of #TWmemorymondays! This memory is yet another small depiction of a bigger systematic issue. Ok let's get into it.
I have a memory of going to a dim sum place with my family and a white family. I was probably ten or so. It was our friends' first time having dim sum, and it was exciting for them! Before meeting them at the restaurant, my family was talking about how the white family would like the food...what we order for them to try.
I remember that the white family were the only white people in the restaurant, and even though they were excited...they were a bit nervous. Everytime a dish would come, they would ask what would be in it, and decide if they would be brave enough to try it. Everything was such a novelty, and my family would try to convince how good everything was.
Then it all led to the chicken feet dish. Would they try it? Would they like it?? So some of them mustered enough courage to try it, and with a surprised face, they said it was actually pretty good! Everyone is relieved.
Bringing white people into our world most often had this tone. We all are somewhat nervous how the white people will react to our culture and food. And there's this celebration that happens when they like it.
That initial suspicion and nervousness of the white people is just another byproduct of systematic white supremacy and xenophobia. White culture is what is "normal" and the standard. Anything outside of it is scary, threatening, and other. Whether it's authentic Chinese food or an accent, the first reaction is negative. Just because it doesn't match your definition of comfortable or delicious doesn't make the thing disgusting or ugly.
Let's all catch our gut reactions and question our assumptions - because it could either hurt people or embrace them.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 25/53. 'Dog' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 24
Alright! Week 24 of #TWmemorymondays. This one is difficult to put to words, but I'm going to try my best!
As long as I can remember (age 4) I was cognasant of knowing my family didn't fit into the American prototype. Swipe to see a photo of my family - I was 4 there and my sister was 1. We didn't have the language or look of that model American family, and everything around me reminded me about it. Media for sure! The library, the store, restaurants, churches, books, school, community classes, etc.
I remember the contrasting feeling of entering a Asian setting vs a white space. Walking into the home of my parent's friends who are all Asian...I could see that my parents were fully who they are in their humanity and complexity, but they were seen in their humanity and complexity. They talked in Cantonese, ate comfort food, and they moved with ease.
Then entering a space that was predominantly white, I could feel the divide of being other. Like entering a white space like this homeschool co-op we were part of when I was 5. It was like there needed to be an extra ounce of energy that white people needed to approach us in conversation. Even in the friendly interactions, I knew in my gut we were seen as one dimensional - we were the Asian family. In my perspective, my parents moves and talked different in that space. There needed to be mental decisions of whether to speak to each other in Chinese or English. How to present ourselves as presentable and outstanding. Over the years, I never felt full inclusion. There was never that feeling of being known as complex beings.
Obviously there's comfort in being able to relate to people you have things in common, but this feeling goes way deeper than that. .
Flipping between the two world's was so jarring. And exhausting.
In present day, it makes me think about how much of my Chinese attributes have I erased so that the experience becomes less jarring. Feeling diminished to the color of my skin is the worst feeling...but have tried to escape that by denouncing my Chinese identity so that I would be seen as white as possible?
Have I participated in self erasure to make my experience less jarring?
I'm not sure. But what I do know is that that feeling I felt as a kid is birthed from the systematic problem of white supremacy and xenophobia (and probably alot more systematic issues). In the white space, the uncertainty from people comes from fear of what is foreign - because we didn't fit that standard of what a true American looks and sounds like. They were probably not conscious about the, but that's the power of systematic racism - it's thick in the air we breathed then and still now.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 24/53. 'Erase' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 23
Happy Monday! We have week 23 of #TWmemorymondays.
So today's memory is happened about three years ago. I was online dating and was messaging this guy, who seemed cool. The conversation was flowing, and pretty fast there were plans to meet for coffee. For that coffee date, he as a no show, because a friend of his passed away suddenly. Totally understandable!
Then we made plans to meet at the coffee shop in whole foods near North/clybourne. On the day of, I can't remember exactly all that was said, but I remember wanting to see if he could meet half an our later. Or something like that! Then he was getting really snappy and rude. I remember feeling kind of confused...like maybe I was reading his tone wrong. .
At that time I was with my two friends @darbimasters and @jaclynsimpson. I remember telling them that I wasn't feeling it and that I didn't want to meet him anymore. They encouraged me to cancel the date. So I did! I told him I didn't want to meet him. He pushed me to tell him why, and I said I didn't feel comfortable.
THEN he went off. He sent me a long string of accusing, profane, degrading messages including calling me every racist term. I honestly didn't event know all the words he wrote until I googled some of them. He was REALLY REALLY angry. After the first two back and forths, I didn't respond and reported him right away.
So thankful I was with two of my best friends that day!! It was scary!! I didnt know what he was capable of, and if it was just all talk. And I kept on thinking if I did end up meeting with him what would have happened. Maybe it would be normal...and I wouldn't know about his pent up rage and racism.
It brings me to the realization of how hyper aware I am and need to be - to detect any hint of racism and fetishism. Not only because it's wrong and gross, but because it's unsafe.
I hate that if I'm going through a guy's photos and there's an Asian girl in it, I instantly wonder if they only date Asian women or have "yellow fever." I hate that I do that....but I also need to be aware. The objectifying of Asian culture and women is real and harmful...and it's sad that I need to weigh it into my dating life.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 23/53. 'Pent Up' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 22
Happy long weekend! Today is week 22 of #TWmemorymondays! Honestly today is one of the days where I wish I could just not do this project - so many fun things happening! But pushing through is part of the process. 💪🏼
Today's memory is a very recent memory, which I won't get into. It was a situation where I felt really unseen as a POC and that through the good inentions the carelessness of the incident really hurt me. It took me awhile to piece it together of what bothered me, and I finally wrote the person my perspective and why it was hurtful. The correspondence was really good, helpful, and the person pretty much reacted and said everything book perfect.
What I want to focus on is how that experience felt like. After I came to the realization why it hurt me, I felt sick to my stomach even after the great donv station. Literally it lived in my stomach. I realized I had this expectation that everytime I speak up I will feel a burden lifted off my shoulder and I will feel more empowered.
But everytime I do speak up that never happens. This past time I expected this weight lifted again! And I felt just as sick after!
It's because even though this conversation went well, it won't be every single time. So speaking up to racism is this vulnerability to having yet another traumatizing experience - where that person could be defensive, shut me down, misunderstand me, etc. AND is the realization that even though growth is good and speaking up is worth it, the white supremacy is really big and is in the air we all breathe.
It makes me sick to be reminded by this truth. I'm thankful for that response and need to embrace it. Shouldn't all our responses to evil systems against humanity be gutteral?
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 22/53. 'Gutteral' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 21
Week 21 of#TWmemorymondays: today's memory is prompted by a conversation I had with@verakt recently. This is K.T.'s memory that alot of you will probably relate to.
We were swapping microaggression stories that were targeted towards being Asians. And this is one of them:
K.T. was recalling an reoccurring situation where someone plays a guessing game of what kind of Asian she is. Not Chinese. Not Japanese. When they finally stumvle on finding out she is Korean, this comment has been made: "Oh I didn't expect you being Korean! Aren't Korean faces usually more flat? Your's isn't!"
THEN they usually offer some sort of detail like "I love kimchi" or "I've been to Korea before!" Or "I have this one Korean friend..."
I was like YES I know that guessing game too well!! I related to that interaction so much, and there's an equivalent comment on how they are surprised I'm Chinese (I'll get into that next time.)
Ok so why is that interaction offensive and rascist?
It so insulting to reference your caricature idea of different Asian cultures, and then see how we (Asians / Asian Americans) compare to your ideas. Doing that dimishishes those cultures while dehumanizing us as individuals simultaneously. In K.T.'s instance, to then insult Koreans and cover up it with a compliment!! How is that appropriate to say?? AND THEN to offer some sort of random fact about how you think you've interacted with our culture...like that's somehow going to make us feel endeared to that. We don't represent the whole country, and it's not interesting that you know another person of the same ethnicity.
If you are anti racism, learn how to truly honor different ethnicities and cultures. This is how you do it: be interested in the POC genuinely as an individual. If ethnicity comes up naturally, that's great! As that friendship grows, ask intentional and thoughtful questions about the person's background and unique experience. That's one of the ways to be against systematic rascist and white supremacy. Simple but is somehow hard to do and is rarely done.
Note to my Asian American friends (and fellow POC):
the next time the guessing game starts, shut it down immediately. I'm preaching to myself! I've let it happen too many times.
Continue DMing me your experience. And thank you K.T. for sharing!
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 21/53. 'Guessing Game ' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 20
Week TWENTY! Today's memory is another memory that signify many memories embedded into me.
When I was about seven years old (swipe to see me and my younger sister) I remember being at a family gathering at my aunty and uncle's house. I remember overhearing many conversations that the adults were involved in. And I dinsticly remember this conversation, which was very common, where so and so is pregnant and how happy they are for the couple: Sure hope and pray that it's a boy! For the husband and his parents' sake. Such a bummer the wife has only had girls at this point. Let's all pray that it's a boy.
This kind of conversation happened very often, and it wasn't that out of the ordinary. What was different was that I thought, "I feel bad for my dad. He has two girls and that's it! Neither of us will carry his name or his lineage. It's kinda sad when you really think about it. But Wong is such a common last name...maybe it's not that important. Literally millions of people of that last name. I guess I shouldn't feel that bad."
It's so funny I remember this memory so vividly! It was like my first realization of how that kind of mentality might have affected my family.
That cultural dictation of value was integral to my development - especially now in hindsight. The role patriarchy played in my self worth was direct. I always felt second class as a girl growing up even though it might not have been explicitly told to me. I not only felt like that but I knew it. It was that kind of conversation that circulated around me that confirmed the suspicion.
It makes me mad writing about it! Because in that moment (along with another billion of moments) I was experiencing and accepting such a toxic construct - patriarchy. It formed me as a girl and a woman as someone who is less than! Which is so insane and wrong. It's not only the Chinese culture that told me that being a woman is less desirable, but is no secret that patriarchy reigns here in America.
I'm just reminded that things that we say could feel so normal and accepted, but it takes extra vigilance to double check what assumptions we are accepting!
Just because our culture has done it a certain way for centuries doesn't mean that it's automatically exempt from systemic oppression. Stay sharp!
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 20/53. 'Baby Boy' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 19
Week 19 of #TWmemorymondays! Today is prompted by a conversation I had this past Saturday with @aiyanat .
She shared with me the history of how her grandparents met. Her grandfather was in Japan during WWII fighting in the military, and met a local Japanese woman. They later got married, and lived in America - had kids and grandchildren. So Aiyana is 1/4th Japanese.
There is this memory or reoccurance that sticks out to her. Ever since she was really young, when people realize that she's part Japanese, there is only one response: "Oh! Now I see it in your eyes!" Everytime, that reaction would make her gut churn. It was unsettling, but she didn't know why or even how to respond to that comment.
.
Growing up, Aiyana was really close to her Japanese grandma and was partially raised by her. (Swipe to see photos of Aiyana and her grandma.) She remembers so many things said about her and to her grandma that would be unsettling in her gut. Things like moving to America was the best thing that has ever happened to her or jokes of her never really being American. Aiyana never laughed along, and always felt in her gut that that wasn't ok.
When Aiyana was sharing all of this, it was so interesting how she described these "harmless" well intended rascist comments and how it felt in her body. Immediately followed with the awkwardness of not knowing how to respond.
I resognated with her story on many levels - how my body reacts. That tinge. That knot. That electric shock. One of the differences from Aiayna's story is that I DID laugh through so so SO many those comments. It would hurt me on the inside, and I would still laugh along (sometimes nervously). The most twisted instances was when I would numb that feeling and actually feel good about the rascist comments - like when I'm "complimented" on being so white. How twisted is that? Still! I knew deep down that it doesn't sit well in me.
That embodiment Aiyana felt as a child is beautiful, and we all need that. I want to be done laughing nervously! Her story makes me want to be more intuned to my body and sensitive to the physical attack words can have to the value of humans. Thank you for sharing!
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 19/53. 'Gut Feeling' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 18
Week 18!! Crazy how Mondays come around seemingly so much faster than Friday. Today's microaggression/memory is when I (along with most WOC) am called "EXOTIC."
Like what I said in my instastories, as child that term wasn't as prevalent in the bay area, but once I became an adult and moved to the Midwest...oh my did that change. (Here's a picture of me at 6 yrs old before the exposure of what I will learn in my later years.)
I was so aware that my asian-ess was and is for some men a novelty, and that came through them by drawing attention to my "exoticness". In the dating scene, I was consistently trying to sniff out any hint that a guy had "yellow fever" or had a thing for Asians. It's an awful experience to encounter someone who fetishizes an ethnicity. It's SO incredibly dehumanizing to be diminished to a caricature of what westerners thing about Asian women: this sensual, other worldly, submissive creature.
It's really disgusting, and media and history shows how far back this kind of dehumanizing potrayal exists. Read the article link in my profile to learn more about how the world "exotic" is rascist.
Another reason why it's so harmful is because it assumes and upholds a "right" kind of beauty that you're not. You are exotic because you don't fit into the normal white American beauty we all know and can recognize. Feeling like a foreign object of desire is not flattering at all...it's actually pretty scary.
We all need to stand up for upholding the dignity of WOC by being intentional to HONOR our cultures and differences. Maybe try complimenting a woman for a characteristic that is uniquely hers. There are so many empowering ways we can really compliment each other.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 18/53. 'Exotic' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 17
Week 17 of #TWmemorymondays! I'm continuing my exploration of untangling the complex nature of my racial shame. It's something that I didn't even know was there until my eyes have been open to it recently. I'm using this project to start the work of naming pieces that contribute to the shame. It's not fun to call it out, because it seems so wrong when you actually look at it, but naming it is part of ridding of it.
My parents' (they immigrated from Hong Kong) primary language is Canonese (I use "Chinese" synonymously), while they can speak English fluently. So my mother tongue is Chinese, and I was fluent in Chinese and English when I was really little. Gradually over time I lost the ability to speak Chinese. By gradeschool, I rarely spoke any Chinese. Now, I can't speak it at all even though I can understand it 100%.
At home my parents rarely spoke to me or each other in English, it's always in Chinese (unless it was during school hours - read about it in week 15). I remember always being in the kitchen setting up the dinner table, and my mom pushing me to speak in Chinese. There was once even a rule that during dinner, my sister and I could only speak in Chinese. Being able to speak in Chinese was something that was important to my parents in protecting our culture. My whole childhood was them trying to get me to speak and learn Chinese! But the passive pressure I felt about it was too strong.
Thinking back, the whole situation is very complex. As a young girl I could tell the difference between my Asian friends who spoke fluently in Chinese and those who didn't. Like what I wrote last week, the more foreign or "fobish" you came off as the less you ranked in society, which is unfortunately true on our white supremest culture. So it was natural for me to not want to speak Chinese, because it was embarrassing to be one of those Asians who were so culturally far from being white. It was never a conscious decision - but I subconsciously knew that being as white as possible was a huge part of what it meant to be cool.
White culture strikes again. It's horrifying to admit it's dominance on my past and present. But I have hope to learn to speak it again!
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 17/53. 'Spoken' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 16
Week 16 of #TWmemorymondays! @michaelaquan is my guest contributor today! We have been having some really amazing conversations about our upbringing as Chinese Americans from California. It's so crazy when you think your experience is isolated and then you talk to someone else they have he same exact experience. Today's memory is Michaela's, but it's just as shares by me.
I'm going to be using the term "FOB" that stands for "Fresh Off the Boat". It's a very derogatory term to reference (most often Asians) the foreign-ness (not white and American) of someone - how they dress, speak, hold themselves. It's used in a way that it's clearly not desirable. So growing up that term was thrown around alot...to referencing fashion or other people or how someone is like.
Michaela shared with me this memory: when she was elementary age, she remembers seeing other kids at the playground that seemed so fobish. They wore these sweat pants that had sayings on the side and we're elasticated at the ankle - she recognized them being sold in China Town. When she said I knew exactly what she was referencing! The whole outfit complete with puffy layers and usually toppes with a crocheted vest. Michaela remembers thinking to herself that she's so thankful that she wasn't like that. She had normal clothes and came off as American. Oh man. I really related to that too! Abercrombie kids and limited too was how I rolled...not like the fobs.
Then we talked about the assumptions that we were falling into: being foreign is undesirable. Not only that! The more white and American you come off as the better. And it seems so obvious how messed up that is, but that is the reality of how things were and still is. Our culture is white supremest. No wonder we thought that growing up! Because it's true...coming off as foreign and brown disadvantages you. And our vocabulary represents us. It's time to not use the words we say support such an evil system.
Thanks @michaelaquan for chatting and sharing with me! ❤️
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 16/53. 'Playground' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 15
Ok week 15 of #TWmememorymondays! Read this OR watch me talk through it via instastories. Something is wrong with my instastory highlights, but hopefully I will get it fixed so you can browse back to the different weeks.
This week and I think for the next couple weeks I'm going to focus on what contributes to this almost subconscious shame of being Chinese or Asian or not white. Woof.
Today's memory calls for a bit of background. I was basically born into a really tight knit chinese church community that was a huge part of my childhood. My family and I were a big part of that community up until I got Junior high. So apart from classes I took via homeschool groups, my main social group were other Asians from church.
I remember when I was a bit older (maybe 8 or 9) this conversation that wasn't uncommon between my friends and I. It was a casual conversation of how many white friends we had, and basically the more you have the cooler you are. The less white friends you had, the more "Asian" you are. Or that's at least how it computed in my head.
The part that really stuck in my memory was my thought process after that conversation. I felt embarrassed I didn't have more white friends and the worry that I was really Asian or foreign. It felt like I was losing at this game or competition of who can know the most white people and who can associate most with white people. I felt shame for being Chinese, and I felt like it drug me down in my social group (I probably didn't think this but I also felt like it drug me down in society as a whole).
The assumption was that you get ahead of this game of life if you associate with white people...or even better - come off as white to other people. That assumption was the water I was swimming in. It was obvious, and sadly was and is true. At a very young age I was highly aware of it, especially having immigrant parents.
White supremacy was strong and reigned back then as it still does now. The more foreign and brown or black you come off as, the more disadvantaged you are in society. .
This is one tiny piece of my unraveling and freeing myself from the chains of shame.
…..
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 15/53. 'Game' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 14
Week 14 of #TWmemorymondays! Today's memory is my own that is shared with my mom and my sister. It's really interesting how things seem so natural and normal for so long, and then suddenly it's the most absurd thing ever. Well this is one of those things.
My sister and I were homeschooled for all of grade school by our mom. Both of my parents were very intentional that we were going to get an excellent and well rounded education and educational experience. (For example, we took weeks out of the year traveling to all the national parks and so many contemporary art museums, and those were our field trips.) Part of making sure that they did the best they can is being part of a homeschool group that helped them with being legally protected from the state.
As we all know, there are some people who use homeschooling in a detrimental. So the government have many laws set in place to prevent that from happening. Back then (and maybe it is still now) homeschooling was perceived very negatively. Get this - one of the laws specifically stated that no foreign languages can be spoken during school hours (unless you're studying a second language of course). You can only teach using English.
So my parents could not legally speak in Chinese in their own home when homeschooling was occuring.
For me, this is tiny picture of the very loud cultural message: foreign-ness + people of color = uneducated. What if my mom did teach with Chinese, do you think that I would be less educated? Less fluent in English? Would I come off too Chinese? I wouldn't know proper English grammar?
What would that other scenario be?
It drives me insane thinking that such seemingly harmless and even helpful law can hold SO MUCH weight and assumption.
It's no wonder why as a kid there was this underlying wish I was white, and understanding that things would easier if my parents were American born. And it's true - things would actually be easier if I was white and if my parents weren't Chinese and immigrants! That's the white supremest culture we all live in. Period.
It is really scary to think of all those little things that are in the air I breathe - in my memory - all the things that I can't see...those things thst are inherently against and hurting people. Seeing them is way better and more hopefully however scary it is to face.
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 14/53. 'English Only' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper
Memory 13
Week 13 of #TWmemorymondays! This memory of mine has changed my mindset about SO many things, and I cherish it so much. And special thanks to @christinii32 for being part of it and letting me share this conversation.
About three years ago, I was chatting with Christine at some church event. During our small talk, I asked her this question, "So when are you and Brett (her husband) going to have kids?" She snapped at me and said something like if she hears that question one more time she's going to scream. I saw her frustration, anger, irritation, and sadness. It took me aback! She quickly backtracked and apologized (which she didn't have to).
This interaction is HUGE in my book. From then on a never asked anyone that question, because I recognize how incredibly ignorant that question is. It is full of assumptions: all hetero married couple wants children and it assumes that the topic is very simple. The truth is I have no idea if she even wants kids...no idea if she does want kids and is trying...no idea if there might even be a loss/losses. The complexity of a person's desires and situation is infinite. It is so detrimental and discounting to just throw out recklessly a question like that. So just because I had good intentions, it's no excuse to ask an ignorant question that is harmful.
I loved that she was vulnerable with her emotion (even though it probably wasn't intentional) because it stuck with me in the best way possible.
Continuing the conversation about microaggression - ALL emotions including the "negative" ones are helpful in communication. When it comes to people who have less privileges (not white cys male), it is especially important to be open for them/us to express the anger/hurt/frustration. The response should be empathy, apology, and recognition. We all make mistakes, but seeing true emotion helps us recognize that mistake and never make it again.
This memory has been so helpful whichever side I find myself - either showing the raw emotions or receiving it. I want to live in a world where empathy and freedom of expression are welcomed!
.....
#TWmemorymondays: A painting inspired by a memory every Monday of 2018. Connecting abstract art to real life. Week 13/53. 'Negative Emotion' / 8x8 in / mixed media on paper