“what’s this asian girl gonna do?”

by lela lee

The title of this blog entry is what my girl Gladys said she heard when I stepped to the open mic this past Thursday. Although I didn’t hear it myself, I’m pretty sure some folks thought it. Foreal. Come on. If I saw myself up at an open mic, I’d have enough reason to be a little doubtful of what I’m about to experience as an audience member. Self-assigned onto a bill of mostly musicians, singers and rappers, I could definitely see how some people would need to be convinced that a poet makes for sufficient entertainment. But the best part about it is that I know everyone has connected with poetry at some time in their lives. Truthfully, I bank on that fact and it usually works out just fine. Aside from a competitive desire to prove people wrong, I know that, in the succinct words of Michelle Myers, “I am an Asian American woman. It was important for me to be here.”

Earlier this week I received a mass e-mail regarding a call for papers about cultural production. The e-mail reaffirmed what I’ve known for awhile but haven’t been able to verbalize until I set eyes on it, which is the idea that cultural producers occupy several spaces at any one time. I thought about how my poetry takes place on a stage, is often the product of several hours of writing, rehearsing and sitting. I also hope that it transcends my intentions and latches onto audience members’ own memories and creates a better future or serves as a point of reference that makes them do double takes in some sort of way. Because in paraphrased words by Geologic from Blue Scholars, I don’t like art without a message.

Being artist is being cultural producer. Being Pinay/Asian American is more than people know. So, what’s this Asian girl gonna do? I’m gonna continue to read, learn and write about it. And even better, I’m gonna share what I know – show that I am more than a perceived “Asian girl” by assumed, normalized notions of race and ethnicity. I’ve been on the hunt for venues and open mics, opportunities, monies, people to connect with, writing workshops, anything I can do to keep on pushing poems and people. At the same time, I’m trying to help others along the way by passing along information, mobile pics or inside jokes that could lead to uplift, direction or happiness. I have to do this now and in the only ways that I know how because, in the words of my friend Mark V, it’s one of the only ways that the theories, concepts and critiques I learned in college can live on.

In my own words, I do it because we are worth more.

janice.

small sky

edges of earth
pull in
when distances collide

war breaks space
prayer and poetry
restore a fraction
of its casualties

all under crowding clouds
upheld by cities
sleeping over
underground struggles

peeking under a small sky
is opening eyes
to new rainbows
this is not a small world

our connections
are as innate and as
infinitesimally vast as
emotion can serve

look around to look up
everyone deserves heaven
and to wake with spinning suns

janice.

today in ten.

World,

I am so tired. Although I know I gotta keep going, I know it’s okay to air out my thoughts for a second, third and possibly a fourth wind. This hustle doesn’t get any easier, I know, but my body aches more for a far away day’s freedom with every move I choose to make.

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged but my time away from the blogosphere has been spent in good company (alone, or with others, or yes, even with spirits). When I touched down in Bay Area from Washington, D.C., I hit the ground running while trying to keep my cool. I was (and still am) in this funk that wants stability and balance, but not in a way that will deem my growth stagnant or unchanging. I’m still adjusting to life back at home. Part of me wants to jump out of these bones and just run away to wherever anything left is willing to take me. The rest of me dares to be back home to teach myself peace.

Having a college degree doesn’t guarantee anything. Neither does the daily grind, but with both I know I put all of myself in.

I feel like I’m starting all over, but this time, on my terms. My co-worker made me realize that ethnic studies and writing may seem unrelated from an outsider’s point of view, but I know they’re inextricably linked. I’m still on this path to see where writing can take me – so far, it’s proven fruitful. It got me to San Diego, D.C. and hopefully hopefully hopefully Italy this summer! (More on this later.) I don’t think I would’ve gotten my current internship without this blog. I also know that I wouldn’t have the confidence to pursue my art if it weren’t for an amazing east coast network full of supportive folks who collectively restored my faith in acceptance and the unknown.

I really enjoy working at a non-profit publishing press. I’m taking the time to work on my work ethic and keep up a healthy daily routine. Despite having gotten sick with a sinus infection this past weekend, I’m getting better and I’m more equipped to be better with myself.

Every now and then, I get suckered into the allure of downtown San Jose festivities with old friends from high school. I don’t mind spending the time, I think I just choose to keep that circle a little smaller and more hush-hush these days.

Oh, I earned a side hustle teaching an after-school English workshop in East Palo Alto (this is the part where people shout and rep “EPA!” to the fullest). It should be good stuff! I’m definitely excited for a change in (slow) pace and I want more experience teaching youth. I’m also trying to invest my time all over the Bay Area, as impossible as it sounds. I wanna be an artist in the schools one day – this will help me pave my way. I also get to create a semester’s worth of lesson plans, I’m a little rusty, but more thrilled at the chance to do community work. It’s time to give back.

I’m doing an online writing workshop with The Undeniables. I’ve been trying to post a poem a day and I like the community that writes along with me. I hope I can keep up.

I finished my manuscript! Now what to do with it…
My manuscript (and future book) is called “small sky.” I know the name is fitting, I just need to figure out how to explain it. As if 60 pages of poetry isn’t enough…

janice.

dream made real

In honor of today’s national holiday, my boss and I went to this event, “Make The Dream Real: 2010.” In true MLK, Jr. fashion, it was inspiring, empowering and beautiful. The event’s program profiled a lot of youth in Oakland’s choirs, in poetry ensembles and in church groups. As an interfaith of sorts – the keynotes and guest speakers addressed the most pressing issues in Oakland… which leads me to believe that the teacher, the police officer and the parents of youth each and all see the same thing: a need for change that starts with teaching/growing a critical generation. A lot of faith rests on seeing our seeds grow and protecting what we plan(t). Oakland has enough rain and clouds; it seems that the closer we get to each other, the more likely it is that we will all shine.

I listened to a warm speech by Oakland Police Chief Anthony Batts. I met Oakland Councilmember Rebecca Kaplan, Oakland Unified School District educator Carole King and many community organizers whose work aligns itself with the peaceful and solidary wisdom of civil rights icon, Martin Luther King, Jr.

No wonder Oakland is nicknamed The Town – the town came out to show support earlier today! It felt like being amidst the who’s who of cross-cultural and conscious community organizing all-stars. I know this because I came across waaay too many acronyms and abbreviations, people actually looked me in the eyes and cared to ask further questions about my work with New Village Press. But check this – they didn’t run out of food! That must most definitely demonstrate some professional organizing bossiness! When you feed mouths, you feed hearts, foreal. There is a space and occupation for the community-lovin feeling, you just have to find it. Or, even better, you have to build it.

“I believe in freedom and I won’t stop fighting until it’s won.” (I can’t get this lyric out of my head!)

janice.

Book Review: “I Love Yous Are For White People” by Lac Su

If the title of this book alone won’t get you, then I’m pretty sure that the first chapter will. I just finished reading memoirist Lac Su’s book I Love Yous Are For White People and I have nothing but all stars, positive remarks and a (hopefully) persuasive recommendation to give. 

Without trying to give too much away, I want to emphasize that this book rejuvenates a love for reading and it can inspire generations who have ever wondered about their estranged relationships to Asian immigrant relatives (especially parents).

Love persists, throughout Su’s journey beginning in Vietnam and taking place mostly in the Southern Californian streets of Los Angeles, despite its presence underlining numerous scornful beatings from his father, in noteworthy and futile runs away from gangsters and busters, and even in advances to steal money  his family’s food stamps for the sake of friendship. Su’s narrative reveals the hard knock mentality of a boy enduring pain due to the taboo silencing that seems normative in his family. 

His story is telling of the cross-cultural cauldron that exists in California; it is oftentimes quite a shocking sight to see for newly immigrated individuals. Becoming acquainted with the law of the land is a constant theme. I Love Yous Are For White People is an internal exploration for any explanation, or a hint towards understanding the plexus of present space – where one comes from, where they are, how they got there and how to be brave enough to go back.

This book caters to those who identify with the acts of service love language. It recognizes the hardship of various forms of “work” like the daily grind that Su’s father (affectionately characterized by the name ‘Pa’ throughout the story) put in while they lived in a rat-infested cell block-like apartment in the projects, like the mental labor that Su himself put in when accounting for his early educational experience or like his mother’s routinized efforts to appease her family. But just like the things that I am trying to figure out about the way this love language operates, Su leaves the narrative with more lessons to ponder and a desire for the reader to learn more. 

A well-written book and definitely one that I just couldn’t put down until I ran out of things to read. I even read the interview information  and then friended the man on Facebook. It’s a must-read! Lac Su, what a work of art well done!

Oh, and here’s a picture I stole off of Facebook with Lac and his father. Hope that’s not too invasive! =P

taken by lac’s brother, vinnie su

janice.

still a busy girl

Snapshot words of my life: WORK & WORDS. home and hell. friends & fun. ethics & ethnic studies.

janice.

featured poem: by danielle (dani) montgomery

 

  

 

by lela lee

 

“hot check days” by Danielle (Dani) Montgomery

after we spent her paycheck

and rolled all the pennies

after we spent every last dime

we could find hiding in drawers

under the couch cushions or in old coat pockets

after no check came from grandma

and we’d eaten the last packet of ramen

with the last stale saltines

mom would smile

like this was a holiday

she’d load us into her aging navy blue oldsmobile

drive to the biggest grocery store in town

and tell us pick anything

we’d streak up and down the aisles

grabbing whatever we could carry

soda and chewy granola bars

individually wrapped snak paks of chips

every last flavor or kool aid

boxes of fish sticks and apple jacks

hungry man salisbury steaks

with super sized mashed potatoes

we’d hurl it all into her basket

wondering

how we could run out of the store

with so much stuff

but while we stood close to each other and watched

our mother pushed the cart up to the counter

chatted with the cashier

and wrote a check for forty dollars over –

he even said thank you ma’am

as he handed it to her

she grinned back no, really, thank YOU

and wheeled us into the parking lot

well, now we have gas money

she’d say

who wants to see a movie?

—

This poem is one of the first I have ever read that focuses on class status and family moments. It resonates with my own current personal struggles and I am once again reminded of the power of poetry, language and writing above the struggles. 

I read this poem in the book Days I Moved Through Ordinary Sounds: The Teachers of WritersCorps in Poetry and Prose. Danielle, like all of the writers in this book, have accomplished the task of working with this nation’s youth to produce absolute storytelling. 

janice. 

interlude: vudoo soul

I saw this singer, Vudoo Soul, perform last Saturday at the “Home for the Holla!Days” event at Foothill College last Saturday in Los Altos Hills, CA. As a recent college graduate from a top-notch university in the engineering sciences, he’s also pursuing his art as a musician. I find that venerable and inspiring. I’ll blog more about the show later, but until then, I’m taking the interlude to exhale. To the marriage of musics and maths, I only have this quote in mind from Greek philosopher Pythagoras (thanks to my former roomie, Tep, who has this tatted on her side), “There is geometry in the humming of the strings, there is music in the spacing of the spheres.”

Vudoo Soul’s voice is the closest to Michael Jackson’s that I’ve ever heard. Foreal. For the non-believers, see here:

janice.

Where I Would Go If I Was Still In DC…

THE EVENT HAS BEEN CANCELLED! =( I’M SURE EVERYONE ELSE WOULD GO, TOO, IF THE WEATHER WASN’T SO BAD ON THE EAST COAST!

2nd ever SULU DC!

It should be an epic night in South East DC! Yellow Rage, Regie Cabico, and my fellow Pinay poet Jenny Lares will be there! More info at Jenny’s blog.

janice.

Filipinas have high rates of breast cancer.

Human Pink Ribbon

I recently found out that one of my favorite aunties has been diagnosed with breast cancer. It never really hit home until it actually does, you know? I remember learning that Filipinas had high rates of breast cancer when I was a second- or third-year in college. I never take these statistics or the hints of them lightly; you just never know when fate will bring you closer to someone else’s.

Part of me is very hopeful. This is when I am thankful for having friends in medical school or friends who aspire to go to medical school. I believe that skills acquired, learned and practiced from graduate school studies are a more disciplined form of activism. A lot of people see it as an onerous burden on the road to making bank one day, but I respect the route of using more technical skills to help people and self. So, if I’ve never put it out there in the universe until now, THANK YOU to all of those who answer this call. It is appreciated. It is necessary. Especially in this health-obsessed/healthcare-conscious recession time and political space, it gets easier to let the simple idea of helping, serving and caring for others become convoluted by everything and nothing.

The rest of me is extremely worried about my auntie. I’ve seen my auntie’s sons grow up as I did and I can’t help but let my imagination run rampant, you know? I’m phasing through scenarios in my head, but each created justification helps me mindfully prepare myself for anything. You just never, ever know.

Now, I’m just trying to look into the actual statistics. And the most I can do is encourage my female family members and other womyn of Filipina descent to get checked and to take care of themselves. I’ve been reading more about health-conscious communities and I’m striving to make sure my people will be one.

Take care! Really. I’ve provided a couple of educational links fyi.

janice.

WHAT EVERY FILIPINA/O SHOULD KNOW ABOUT BREAST CANCER
A BLOG: BREAST CANCER AWARENESS AND MY MOM