Once Awakened

Proximity to whiteness.
The model minority myth.
The problem of ‘not seeing color.’

These are important conversations happening, but I don’t want these to be simply buzzwords. They’re stories from lived experiences.

My older family members tell me about driving through the Jim Crow South as Filipinos in the late 50’s. A simple pit stop brought up questions a gas station attendant wouldn’t have thought of before. Whose bathroom do they use? Uncertain, he directs them towards the one labeled white.

Imagine arriving to a new country and being in survival mode. It doesn’t take long to see the country’s norms and rules, written and unwritten, about which groups hold power. As a means of self-protection, you realize your best strategy for survival is to be considered among the dominant group. You do your best to adopt their values, their patterns of speech, their tastes, often losing your own in the process.

Enter a new generation. The kids can’t understand why their parents don’t want them to date somebody darker, or why aunts, uncles seem to be on the giving and receiving end of racism without recognizing the irony. The kids do realize that the lunchbox kimchi, curry, pinakbet, earns them mean comments at school, so they learn to dislike and detatch from those parts of their identity. To pretend to not see color.

These kids grow up, raised to succeed in this environment. Their academic success is seen, but in a way that doesn’t so much praise their efforts, but that insists the system is working. They are told that policies to help other disadvantaged groups find more academic success will come at their own expense.

Meanwhile they see their aging parents ridiculed. Abused. Attacked. Attempting to align with the dominant group meant aligning with their system. And it was never a system that loved them. Just one that ranked them. Behind some, ahead of others.

It’s too easy to point to the most visible examples of racism and say “let’s stop this,” without understanding that we all carry assumptions and habits that contribute. It’s why we all have our work to do. The work is systemic and spiritual. It happens at a state level and soul level. It’s both-and.

Kim's Convenience

At a time when we’re faced with so much human loss, it feels weird to also be really sad about the end of a TV series. But @kimsconvenience was always something a bit more.

For a lot of us, it was finally a chance to see an on-screen world that looked a bit more like our families. That was honest about things like generational divides and microaggressions but never weighed down by it.

I’m not a big TV watcher (though maybe quarantine has shaped that a little) but when I first came upon their first season during a weekend in Canada, it was something. There isn’t much in the show that’s a carbon copy to my life, and yet, the fine details- like the younger characters having a foot in each world, to the diverse and quirky set of customers coming in from all over the globe, to the portrayal of Asian Christianity and my personal fave, Pastor Nina, so much of it was very familiar. It was like suddenly one show had the eyes to see into an overlooked-in-plain-sight, beautiful, goofy, heart filled world.

I’m sad this show ended so suddenly at its peak. I hope to see a lot more of everyone who worked on the show, and like @simuliu puts it- “amazing things happen when you open the gates and allow more diverse stories to be told.”

Stop AAPI Hate Means

In the middle of a difficult week last week:

🔰 I got to connect with a number of friends, Asian and Non-Asian, reaching out to offer community support (and even snack funding!) during a crisis.
🔰 I got to hear from some folks who expressed a deeper appreciation for their Asian roots- including some biracial friends falling in love with an ancestry I didn’t even realize they had until now.
🔰 Thanks to donation matching, we got to send $1000 to a few of my favorite AAPI orgs.

None of this brings back lost lives, but it does remind us that community is how we make it through.

Visibility

To my Asian(Am) friends here, did you eat yet? Some of you already know what I mean by that, but I’ll say it two ways for those who don’t. I love you.

I’ve been thinking about the concept of invisibility this week. Steven Yeun says that “sometimes I wonder if the Asian American experience is what it’s like when you’re thinking about everyone else, but no one is thinking about you.” Tung Nguyen calls this the “racism of being made invisible.”

This was supposed to be a celebratory week for Asian-Americans with Yeun, his co-star Youn Yuh-jing, and their movie Minari receiving so many Oscar nominations. Not to mention Nomadland, the Sound of Metal, Mulan, and Over The Moon.

Sometimes you wonder if hate crimes often accompany breakthroughs. After all, some of the most visibly violent days of the year were *backlash* that immediately followed events like the Georgia Senate runoff. There’s a mentality among many that finds security in invisibility, especially among those that have had to uproot to a new place.

I’ve leaned this apparent defense move before. When teaching in schools where there weren’t many Asians, people’s inability to know my background meant the students quickly ran of things to say after asking if I was Bruce Lee. In South Africa, I did not fit into the rigid racial categories of Black, white, Indian, or colored- which kept me away from more challenging encounters there.

But this week reveals that at the end of it all, invisibility is a false friend. It relies on a racial caste system that harms all. Invisibility stands in the way of the things that ultimately keep us the safest: community, getting organized, and just being the best fullest versions of ourselves. When you’ve been invisible for so long and in so many spaces, it so much of what you do opens doors and breaks walls. You can give people their first glimpse at what could be on a stage as high profile as the Oscars, but it can also be in a space as every-day as healthy fatherhood, creativity, sustainable living, or whatever oddly niche passion has your heart.

I’ve never loved being Asian-American more than I do now.

They Are Our Beloved

Grieving the hate-filled murder of eight precious Asian lives in Atlanta.

I’ve always found anger easier to access compared to grief. I’m learning that there’s a point where the two occur side by side in a moment of sacred rage.

One of the things I love about being Asian-American is that our families are expansive. Any woman of an earlier generation can be my tita. Any man my tito.

When Lulu Wang sees among the victims of the attack the women working home to send money home, to send kids in school, I get that. These are the women who ran so I could walk. Working as women in American hospitals during the Jim Crow Era. Sending money back to the Philippines for younger siblings, like my dad, paving the way for my life to be what it has been.

I wish there was something I could say or do to make it stop. Right away, once and for all. But there’s no healing without grief.

Asian(Am) fam, I love us. Keep excelling and making the world better for each other. My inbox is open if you need encouragement, listening, or grieve and rage.

To everyone else, be kind. The kind of kind that mourns with those who mourn and dismantles racist systems. Stop sharing the killer’s picture, we don’t need that. And if you’d like to make a donation to @apen4ej, @advancingjustice_aajc, @stopaapihate, or @napawf, I’ll match you up to $316

UPDATE: You’ve all helped me meet my match goal and then some! Thanks- if anyone wants to extend the match a bit further, LMK!

Doing Your Best

A little reminder to whoever needs it the way I do: do your best, but remember that “best” is a moving target.

I like to live with a sense of urgency. Life is too uncertain to not leave it all on the road.

At the same time, what doing your best looks like will differ from one day to the next. There’s a difference between idolizing productivity and living a regenerative life. The latter understands that there are seasons and cycles. The former can put an unkind pressure on us to strive for the same kind of output day after day.

A Year of Pandemic

March 11 of last year started off simple enough. I had a staff retreat in the day, so I dropped Rhys off at my mom’s. While on my way back to pick him up, it all went down. Tom Hanks. The Utah Jazz. The shutting of every border.

A year into this tragic, absurd, and extremely trying time, I would’ve expected to feel a lot of heavy things. Disappointment in the ableism and disregard for the most vulnerable that I saw from so many people and institutions I had trusted. Grief at all that was lost. Those feelings are legit, and they’re around somewhere, but they aren’t dominant today like I might’ve thought.

Instead…

I remember the feeling of resolve I felt that night. The person I love most has fought to breathe her whole life, and now the most global threat was a highly transmissible respiratory illness. As disappointing as it was to give up all the plans we had for the year, the sheer determination to keep her safe, to keep my family safe took over.

A year later… we’ve done it. And I feel that reminder that with God’s grace and the love of community, we are capable of hard things.

On one hand, it’s easy to get stuck on the feeling of losing a year of our lives due to this major disruption. But I think it’s simultaneously true that we invested a year doing the best we could to save as many lives as we could.

Fittingly, I get my second shot this weekend. I am looking forward to reengaging so many things that have been out of reach the past year with a whole new, much deeper sense of appreciation.

Rick Steves/Appreciation

Almost a year ago, when lockdown was still a novel concept and the dust was just starting to settle, a podcast interview with Rick Steves came my way.

Interesting... I thought. This guy is travel, pretty much. Like, Steves-Europe is probably his real last name. If anyone’s sense of identity is totally upended by now, it’s his.

Instead his interview mostly talked about the simple joys he was finding in the view out his window, wine, and painting. It sounded so emotionally mature and healthy and I realized his gift wasn’t so much all the travel tips he’s known for, but his ability to appreciate. It works in Edmonds, Washington like it works in Europe.

🏔⛰🏕

Among other things, the past year has helped me appreciate so many things in a whole new way while taking less for granted:

The power that affirming words have to bring out the best in people.

Movies and stories that raise the bar for representation.

Healthy boundaries.

The social lives of moss.

People who understand that clarity is kind. Southeast Asian folklore and mythical creatures. Hummingbirds. Explainer videos. Garages. Older folks who know it’s never too late to re-examine a belief or idea. Foreign films. Climate writing. Ecodiscipleship. People who get the difference between peacemaking and peacekeeping. People who stand up for other people. Ancestry. Financial literacy that cares about ethics. The Eastern Sierras. Octavia Butler. Tattoo art. Grief. Seaweed. Starting each morning with music.

What’s something you’ve learned to appreciate more over the past year?

Beignet-versary

Five years ago this week we brought home this muppet faced doughnut, and what a wild time it’s been since then.

She’s lived six years and every one of those years has pitched a curveball. The year she kept me company when grad school seemed to drag on. The year we uprooted her from Oregon to California. The year we moved twice in a month and found out we were pregnant. And then there’s the mystery of her first year, and the chaos of her most recent year with us home all the time as the world goes haywire.

Mostly I think that we lucked out with her as a big puppy sister for Rhys. He loves attempting to climb her like a boulder and she puts up with it. Those two are a duo. We always wanted a dog who was great with really little kids. We saw plenty of promising signs from Beignet early on, but it’s been confirmed day after day this past year.

Happy birthday, Beignet. We’ll be getting out of the house more often this year.

#lifeofbeignet

The Climate Crisis is Not Gender Neutral

Have you heard of Eunice Newton Foote?

An Irish researcher named John Tyndall often gets credited with being the father of climate research by writing about heat trapping gases- but three years earlier, in 1856, Foote published her own paper: Circumstances Affecting the Heat of Sun’s Rays. Foote went on to participate in Seneca Falls, leaving an impact as both a scientist and a suffragette.

🗣

I learned about Foote from a recent read, All We Can Save and as it’s writers Ayana Elizabeth Johnson and Katharine K Wilkinson put it, “suppressing the climate leadership and participation of girls-half the world’s brainpower and change-making might sets us up for failure.”

Today, women are the frontlines of climate change and climate action.

In many low-income countries, the tasks of feeding a family, securing water, and tending to a farm often fall on women. This is where the impacts of climate are most visible and severe.

On the flip side, research supports the notion that women outperform men in adopting climate friendly habits and supporting environmental legislation. The concept of a multiplier effect when investing in empowering women is apparent in environmental actions.

Two things worth doing on #InternationalWomensDay this year —

1️⃣ My intern Camryn wrote a FANTASTIC article on women and climate change. It’s worth checking out.

2️⃣ Look into some of the stats around gender equality and income and how moms in particular have been affected by the pandemic... and if that feels discouraging, dig into the ideas surrounding a #marshallplanformoms - The multiplier effect of investing in women isn’t just an African development thing!

March 2021

#60 Tablet Drawings

01 March 2021 // San Diego, California

What is grief, if not love persevering?

Eish, Wandavision was a nice escape for several weeks, but after seeing that quote go around pretty widely over the weekend, clearly that line of dialogue struck a chord. It was so similar to a line one of my teammates shared: grief is love with nowhere to go. 

What persists after losing somebody? So many things. There are the ideas they left in the world, both the ones they’ve articulated and the things they’ve taught people. The way they saw the world. You know that feeling when you experience something and you know exactly what somebody who isn’t there would say in that moment? A very powerful and hard-to-pin-down replica of the way that person saw the world enters your brain, creating that experience. That’s especially amazing when it’s somebody who had a unique and beautiful way of seeing the world. It’s amazing the ways we permanently change each other in the moments we spend together.

At least half of everyone I know has had to say goodbye to somebody special in the past 3-4 months. Those kinds of losses don’t need to define you, but they do shape you, and they’re worth spending time with.

#61 African-Caribbean Market

02 March 2021 // San Diego, California

The question I’ve been wondering about for a year now has been: where will I go when I can finally travel again?

It looks like all the countries that seemed like good candidates a year ago are off the table.

New Zealand, which I actively imagined as our 2021 trip is likely closed for another year. So is Australia, our first ticketed flight to get cancelled last year.

Bali doesn’t feel right at the moment either, another cancelled plan.

Since most of Africa will be slow in getting the vaccine, travel to Congo or Burundi seems both unwise and unlikely.

Then there’s Japan, which seems to anticipate visitors for the rescheduled Olympics, but I’m just not sure this is our year for that. So where now?

There are prospective plans for projects in Colombia and Mexico. But for a place to go with Rhys and Deanna?

I’ve been eyeballing spots that seem doable, but mostly these are total shots in the dark right now: Poland, Budapest, Romania, Albania, Montenegro, Suriname, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Ireland. Georgia.

#62 Travel Reads

03 March 2021 // San Diego, California

There's now a mRNA vaccine in the works for malaria.

I think we’re just on the cusp of seeing some of the incredible things mRNA can do. I’m all the more amazed at what went into my arm last weekend.

#63 tHE rAMEN aISLE

04 March 2021 // San Diego, California

A few weeks ago we spent a few days in this cozy studio cabin at Lake Gregory and it was exactly what we needed at the time.

I recently saw this announcement from an illustrator who was going to put her illustration career on the back burner to go to culinary school… I think it’s cool that in spite of all her success, she knows there’s something left

One thing I keep thinking about is how life is too short to not go for it. If there’s something that makes you feel alive… think of the moments that make up your life, don’t spend them doing something you don’t want to.

#64 moSS oBSESSION

05 March 2021 // San Diego, California

I remember the first week of going into lockdown. For the first few days things were completely chaotic. I was figuring out if we would need to leave town to go be safer somewhere else. Did we have enough food? Did we have baby supplies? How could we safely make sure we had those things? What about work? Meanwhile, the rest of the world was in a frenzy.

Then in the later part of that week, you know, we had a sense of what we were doing and where we were going to go, but some of the reality of this really bizarre and catastrophic situation was starting to sink in. The big feeling was, what now?

I remember the world outside was so isolated. So quiet. I kept thinking of a number of places I had the chance to travel to, places that seemed to always have a ton of people. Shibuya crossing in Japan. La Galeria del Duomo in Italy. The neighborhood of Hillbrow in South Africa. I thought about the people I’d met from these places. I wondered how they were doing.

Right then, a hummingbird came by our window. A friend of mine who’s really into birds had just shared with me a whole bunch of knowledge about hummingbirds. About the specific hummingbird species native to our area of California and Mexico. I started to realize that I’d been taking this creature for granted that would be such a marvel to the rest of the world.

This might sound kind of weird, but that hummingbird made me think of how in this intense, uncertain moment, the birds remained blissfully unaware and free to carry on with everything as they always do.

And it felt like some kind of reminder that one day, we will too.

#65 oPEN hORIZONS

06 March 2021 // San Diego, California

We were going to watch Raya and the Last Dragon tonight but we ran out of time. So we’ll try again tomorrow. But one of the things that stands out to me is how much all the different landscapes make me eager to get back to destinations like Southeast Asia.

You know how when it’s like your first day on a job or at school or in a new place how time just seems to slow down? Like you notice everything? That’s what I feel when I travel. I’m away from everything familiar and it forces you to slow down and take in all of it. All your senses flip on. I feel really, really alive.

And then there’s the whole discovery thing. Engaging the wild mix of cultures that come together in a hostel lobby. It’s about hearing new perspectives. You never realize how many of your own ideas and beliefs are just assumptions you adopt and never question, until you go to a place that just sees things differently.

#66 Presidio Green

07 March 2021 // San Diego, California

I love it when you’re only a couple dozen pages into a new book and you already know it’s going to be real good.

I’m reading The Overstory- well, I’m just getting started and I’m already excited at the tease of how we’re all connected.

#67 STUMPED SLOPE

08 March 2021 // San Diego, California

Have you heard of Eunice Newton Foote?

An Irish researcher named John Tyndall often gets credited with being the father of climate research by writing about heat trapping gases- but three years earlier, in 1856, Foote published her own paper: Circumstances Affecting the Heat of Sun’s Rays. Foote went on to participate in Seneca Falls, leaving an impact as both a scientist and a suffragette.

I learned about Foote from a recent read, All We Can Save and as it’s writers Ayana Elizabeth Johnson and Katharine K Wilkinson put it, “suppressing the climate leadership and participation of girls-half the world’s brainpower and change-making might sets us up for failure.”

Today, women are the frontlines of climate change and climate action.

In many low-income countries, the tasks of feeding a family, securing water, and tending to a farm often fall on women. This is where the impacts of climate are most visible and severe.

On the flip side, research supports the notion that women outperform men in adopting climate friendly habits and supporting environmental legislation. The concept of a multiplier effect when investing in empowering women is apparent in environmental actions.

Two things worth doing on #InternationalWomensDay this year —

1️⃣ My intern Camryn wrote a FANTASTIC article on women and climate change. It’s the first link in my bio and worth checking out.

2️⃣ Look into some of the stats around gender equality and income and how moms in particular have been affected by the pandemic... and if that feels discouraging, dig into the ideas surrounding a #marshallplanformoms - The multiplier effect of investing in women isn’t just an African development thing!

#68 Ready to Speak

09 March 2021 // San Diego, California

I kid you not, I have 117 tabs open right now.

It’s been that kind of week. I think that might be the work-from-home equivalent of having your check engine light on.

So, as I shut some tabs, here’s a brain dump of things:

I’m deep into learning about regenerative ocean farming right now and I love the concept of kelp as a climate solution. I’m loving the work of @greenwaveorg

I’m still processing all the losses and premature endings over the past year, while also feeling excited to get my second shot this weekend and the prospect of various parts of life coming back bit by bit. Grief and optimism can coexist, but it’s a weird feeling.

The big question for over a year has been ‘where are you going once you can travel again?’ and I think the most honest answer to that question is that it’ll probably be determined by a bunch of factors way outside of my control. I expect the answer to be a bit of a surprise.

I want to start running again. Finding the time to do so when the childcare juggle already keeps our days full is going to be a challenge. But I know it’s time.

I planned to get a tattoo before my birthday last year, but that was just before everything shut down. I think it’s about time for me to start looking for artists!

Okay… we’re down to 38 tabs.

#69 bEIGNET tURNS 6

10 March 2021 // San Diego, California

Five years ago this week we brought home this muppet faced doughnut, and what a wild time it’s been since then.

She’s lived six years and every one of those years has pitched a curveball. The year she kept me company when grad school seemed to drag on. The year we uprooted her from Oregon to California. The year we moved twice in a month and found out we were pregnant. And then there’s the mystery of her first year, and the chaos of her most recent year with us home all the time as the world goes haywire.

Mostly I think that we lucked out with her as a big puppy sister for Rhys. He loves attempting to climb her like a boulder and she puts up with it. Those two are a duo. We always wanted a dog who was great with really little kids. We saw plenty of promising signs from Beignet early on, but it’s been confirmed day after day this past year.

Happy birthday, Beignet. We’ll be getting out of the house more often this year.

#70 SD Lagoon

11 March 2021 // San Diego, California

March 11 of last year started off simple enough. I had a staff retreat in the day, so I dropped Rhys off at my mom’s. While on my way back to pick him up, it all went down. Tom Hanks. The Utah Jazz. The shutting of every border.

A year into this tragic, absurd, and extremely trying time, I would’ve expected to feel a lot of heavy things. Disappointment in the ableism and disregard for the most vulnerable that I saw from so many people and institutions I had trusted. Grief at all that was lost. Those feelings are legit, and they’re around somewhere, but they aren’t dominant today like I might’ve thought.

Instead…

I remember the feeling of resolve I felt that night. The person I love most has fought to breathe her whole life, and now the most global threat was a highly transmissible respiratory illness. As disappointing as it was to give up all the plans we had for the year, the sheer determination to keep her safe, to keep my family safe took over.

A year later… we’ve done it. And I feel that reminder that with God’s grace and the love of community, we are capable of hard things.

On one hand, it’s easy to get stuck on the feeling of losing a year of our lives due to this major disruption. But I think it’s simultaneously true that we invested a year doing the best we could to save as many lives as we could.

Fittingly, I get my second shot this weekend. I am looking forward to reengaging so many things that have been out of reach the past year with a whole new, much deeper sense of appreciation.

#71 Striped Treasureflower

12 March 2021 // San Diego, California

Almost a year ago, when lockdown was still a novel concept and the dust was just starting to settle, a podcast interview with Rick Steves came my way.

Interesting... I thought. This guy is travel, pretty much. Like, Steves-Europe is probably his real last name. If anyone’s sense of identity is totally upended by now, it’s his.

Instead his interview mostly talked about the simple joys he was finding in the view out his window, wine, and painting. It sounded so emotionally mature and healthy and I realized his gift wasn’t so much all the travel tips he’s known for, but his ability to appreciate. It works in Edmonds, Washington like it works in Europe.

🏔⛰🏕

Among other things, the past year has helped me appreciate so many things in a whole new way while taking less for granted:

The power that affirming words have to bring out the best in people.

Movies and stories that raise the bar for  representation.

Healthy boundaries.

The social lives of moss.

People who understand that clarity is kind. Southeast Asian folklore and mythical creatures. Hummingbirds. Explainer videos. Garages. Older folks who know it’s never too late to re-examine a belief or idea. Foreign films. Climate writing. Ecodiscipleship. People who get the difference between peacemaking and peacekeeping. People who stand up for other people. Ancestry. Financial literacy that cares about ethics. The Eastern Sierras. Octavia Butler. Tattoo art. Grief. Seaweed. Starting each morning with music.

🏜🏜🏜

What’s something you’ve learned to appreciate more over the past year?

#72 Con Pane Menu

13 March 2021 // San Diego, California

Caught somebody hacking into my Spotify account currently listening via a web player. It's easy to boot them off and change my password, but having some fun with this queue first:

Jojo– Get Out

Bslick– I caught a hacker

The Blues Brothers– Rubber Biscuit

#73 Dos Doses

14 March 2021 // San Diego, California

As of today, I officially have my second dose of the COVID-19 vaccine. By the end of the month, that should put me at the highest level of resistance possible.

The pandemic took away many things, but among them has been our ability to plan forward. That’s just one of the ways that it’ll be felt long after case rates crash and the outside world is once again open.

That leaves so much mystery around what happens next for us.

How much longer do we stick with our housing situation?

How can we get help with Rhys in a way that’s good for him and that frees us up to have a healthier and more rounded life?

Speaking of health… there’s the whole issue of figuring out if I can get back in shape.

How will I maybe proceed with the larger platform I’ve gained since this all started?

What will work look like over the next year?

Will we go abroad?

Despite all the uncertainty, I’m looking forward to it all. I believe that the things that need to be worked out will work out. Among the lessons the last year has taught me is this: we are capable of doing difficult things.

#74 Shizuoka

15 March 2021 // San Diego, California

A little reminder to whoever needs it the way I do: do your best, but remember that “best” is a moving target.

I like to live with a sense of urgency. Life is too uncertain to not leave it all on the road.

At the same time, what doing your best looks like will differ from one day to the next. There’s a difference between idolizing productivity and living a regenerative life. The latter understands that there are seasons and cycles. The former can put an unkind pressure on us to strive for the same kind of output day after day.

#75 Ballin’ w/ Piecer

16 March 2021 // San Diego, California

Grieving the hate-filled murder of eight precious Asian lives in Atlanta.

I’ve always found anger easier to access compared to grief. I’m learning that there’s a point where the two occur side by side in a moment of sacred rage.

One of the things I love about being Asian-American is that our families are expansive. Any woman of an earlier generation can be my tita. Any man my tito.

When Lulu Wang sees among the victims of the attack the women working home to send money home, to send kids in school, I get that. These are the women who ran so I could walk. Working as women in American hospitals during the Jim Crow Era. Sending money back to the Philippines for younger siblings, like my dad, paving the way for my life to be what it has been.

I wish there was something I could say or do to make it stop. Right away, once and for all. But there’s no healing without grief.

Asian(Am) fam, I love us. Keep excelling and making the world better for each other. My inbox is open if you need encouragement, listening, or grieve and rage.

To everyone else, be kind. The kind of kind that mourns with those who mourn and dismantles racist systems. Stop sharing the killer’s picture, we don’t need that. And if you’d like to make a donation to @apen4ej, @advancingjustice_aajc, @stopaapihate, or @napawf, I’ll match you up to $316

#76 eMPOWERING READS

17 March 2021 // San Diego, California

To my Asian(Am) friends here, did you eat yet? Some of you already know what I mean by that, but I’ll say it two ways for those who don’t. I love you.

I’ve been thinking about the concept of invisibility this week. Steven Yeun says that “sometimes I wonder if the Asian American experience is what it’s like when you’re thinking about everyone else, but no one is thinking about you.” Tung Nguyen calls this the “racism of being made invisible.”

This was supposed to be a celebratory week for Asian-Americans with Yeun, his co-star Youn Yuh-jing, and their movie Minari receiving so many Oscar nominations. Not to mention Nomadland, the Sound of Metal, Mulan, and Over The Moon.

Sometimes you wonder if hate crimes often accompany breakthroughs. After all, some of the most visibly violent days of the year were *backlash* that immediately followed events like the Georgia Senate runoff. There’s a mentality among many that finds security in invisibility, especially among those that have had to uproot to a new place.

I’ve leaned this apparent defense move before. When teaching in schools where there weren’t many Asians, people’s inability to know my background meant the students quickly ran of things to say after asking if I was Bruce Lee. In South Africa, I did not fit into the rigid racial categories of Black, white, Indian, or colored- which kept me away from more challenging encounters there.

But this week reveals that at the end of it all, invisibility is a false friend. It relies on a racial caste system that harms all. Invisibility stands in the way of the things that ultimately keep us the safest: community, getting organized, and just being the best fullest versions of ourselves. When you’ve been invisible for so long and in so many spaces, it so much of what you do opens doors and breaks walls. You can give people their first glimpse at what could be on a stage as high profile as the Oscars, but it can also be in a space as every-day as healthy fatherhood, creativity, sustainable living, or whatever oddly niche passion has your heart.

I’ve never loved being Asian-American more than I do now.

#77 sTEEL coYOTE

18 March 2021 // San Diego, California

With no special affinity for the Miami Heat, Dwayne Wade was my fave active player for a decade. Since he’s been retired, that mantle’s been passed to Dame. Patting myself on the back for taste.

#78 pIECER dRUM tUTORIAL

19 March 2021 // San Diego, California

Speaking up can get messy.

Solidarity is real when it costs you something.

But that’s what a love for one’s neighbor does.

A tip for speaking well to this current moment:

Take a Yes-And approach.

There have been critiques to the phrases “Stop AAPI Hate” and “Hate is a Virus” because of they don’t directly identify white terrorism as the problem. Valid critiques, but these are also the names of Asian-led movements that need the galvanized support more. 

#79 Yuma Break

20 March 2021 // Yuma, Arizona

Arizona doesn’t get enough attention for how odd of a state it is.

There’s the desert heat that won’t leave half the state alone, which I would absolutely hate to live in. Then there are the high deserts that get some of the thickest snowfall in the country. I love Flagstaff.

There’s the odd conservative streak that’s really strong in Arizona, which often feels like a misplaced state from the Southern Delta. At the same time, there’s a massive Latino population and some strong tribal nations.

Top it all off with the fact that it hides in California’s shadow, that there’s places like Sedona that offer a vortex for the new agey types, and pro-sports teams that never seem to generate much more than a lukewarm level of interest.

All that said, I’ve enjoyed the past few days I’ve spent here.

#80 Red Rock Rhys

21 March 2021 // Sedona, Arizona

I’m trying to buy every electronic good with the hopes of getting it to last at least five years. So far, my camera is at one and a half years, my computer at two and a half, and my cell phone at a proud five.

With clothes, I’m aiming for ten years. So far I’ve got a sweater and a jacket that clear that benchmark, but I think a lot more is headed in that direction.

I strongly dislike planned obsolescence and the practice of making things to be replaced. 

#81 Sedona

22 March 2021 // Sedona, Arizona

In the middle of a difficult week last week:

🔰 I got to connect with a number of friends, Asian and Non-Asian, reaching out to offer community support (and even snack funding!) during a crisis.

🔰 I got to hear from some folks who expressed a deeper appreciation for their Asian roots- including some biracial friends falling in love with an ancestry I didn’t even realize they had until now.

🔰 Thanks to donation matching, we got to send $1000 to a few of my favorite AAPI orgs.

None of this brings back lost lives, but it does remind us that community is how we make it through.

#82 Cathedral Rock

23 March 2021 // Sedona, Arizona

When a community is in crisis,

we must mourn with those who mourn,

and seize the moment to change the system,

to make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Failing to do these things is failed stewardship of our voice, relationships, and influence.

After the Atlanta shooting, there were so many ways people expressed their support:

Venmoing money for takeout 

Supporting an AAPI local business 

Speaking up online and offline

Checking in with texts, DMs, or calls

Donating to AAPI justice orgs

Attending rallies or vigils

And more

I noticed every time a friend or family member did something like this and received it with love.

I also noticed people’s silence.

Many of us fear speaking up during a pivotal moment because of how others might react.

You may not realize it, but people react to your silence too.

Usually with hurt and a loss of trust.

#83 Snow in Flagstaff

24 March 2021 // Flagstaff, Arizona

At a time when we’re faced with so much human loss, it feels weird to also be really sad about the end of a TV series. But Kim's Convenience was always something a bit more.

For a lot of us, it was finally a chance to see an on-screen world that looked a bit more like our families. That was honest about things like generational divides and microaggressions but never weighed down by it.

I’m not a big TV watcher (though maybe quarantine has shaped that a little) but when I first came upon their first season during a weekend in Canada, it was something. There isn’t much in the show that’s a carbon copy to my life, and yet, the fine details- like the younger characters having a foot in each world, to the diverse and quirky set of customers coming in from all over the globe, to the portrayal of Asian Christianity and my personal fave, Pastor Nina, so much of it was very familiar. It was like suddenly one show had the eyes to see into an overlooked-in-plain-sight, beautiful, goofy, heart filled world.

I’m sad this show ended so suddenly at its peak. I hope to see a lot more of everyone who worked on the show, and like Simu Liu puts it- “amazing things happen when you open the gates and allow more diverse stories to be told.”

#84 Greer

25 March 2021 // Greer, Arizona

Proximity to whiteness.

The model minority myth.

The problem of ‘not seeing color.’

These are important conversations happening, but I don’t want these to be simply buzzwords. They’re stories from lived experiences.

My older family members tell me about driving through the Jim Crow South as Filipinos in the late 50’s. A simple pit stop brought up questions a gas station attendant wouldn’t have thought of before. Whose bathroom do they use? Uncertain, he directs them towards the one labeled white.

Imagine arriving to a new country and being in survival mode. It doesn’t take long to see the country’s norms and rules, written and unwritten, about which groups hold power. As a means of self-protection, you realize your best strategy for survival is to be considered among the dominant group. You do your best to adopt their values, their patterns of speech, their tastes, often losing your own in the process.

Enter a new generation. The kids can’t understand why their parents don’t want them to date somebody darker, or why aunts, uncles seem to be on the giving and receiving end of racism without recognizing the irony. The kids do realize that the lunchbox kimchi, curry, pinakbet, earns them mean comments at school, so they learn to dislike and detach from those parts of their identity. To pretend to not see color.

These kids grow up, raised to succeed in this environment. Their academic success is seen, but in a way that doesn’t so much praise their efforts, but that insists the system is working. They are told that policies to help other disadvantaged groups find more academic success will come at their own expense.

Meanwhile they see their aging parents ridiculed. Abused. Attacked. Attempting to align with the dominant group meant aligning with their system. And it was never a system that loved them. Just one that ranked them. Behind some, ahead of others.

It’s too easy to point to the most visible examples of racism and say “let’s stop this,” without understanding that we all carry assumptions and habits that contribute. It’s why we all have our work to do. The work is systemic and spiritual. It happens at a state level and soul level. It’s both-and.

#85 Papago Rhys

26 March 2021 // Phoenix, Arizona

Paying a visit to Phoenix felt good, and I’m not even too fond of Phoenix.

Like, if I had to live in a U.S. city that’s represented in pro-sports, Phoenix would perhaps be dead last on that list. Like, I don’t like the heat. I don’t think it has a whole lot of personality. And it just feels large and clustery.

But I loved being in Phoenix this week.

I enjoyed Kaizen, the Latin-Japanese restaurant where we ate. Papago park was fun to walk around. I wish we had the chance to visit the George Washington Carver museum.

I think I simply miss exploring places that aren’t familiar. And over the past year, I’ve had very little opportunity to do that. I’m excited that this opportunity is starting to come back. I look forward to what lies ahead.

#86 Phoenix Morning

27 March 2021 // Phoenix, Arizona

On the road back from Phoenix, Deanna and I listened to an episode of the Creative Pep Talk podcast which sparked a pretty great conversation. The podcast was all about decoding your tastes to see how it informs your style. The task was first to identify pieces of art and stories that most resonated with your heart, to take a deeper look to see what they have in common, and to see how that theme intersects with your life. The rest is tactical stuff, like understanding how its creators used those stories to share a message.

I could go on forever thinking of stories and art that seemed to speak to me. The suggestion was to choose six, but narrowing the list was quite difficult.

Big Hero 6 is probably a shoo-in. The Juniper episode of Radiolab is also, even though it doesn’t seem immediately obvious. The song Love Like There’s No Tomorrow. Kim’s Convenience. Dee Gordon’s home run after Jose Fernandez’s death. The movies Boyhood and Arrival.

(That’s already seven, and I’m upset I couldn’t include some more books like Pachinko or A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.)

The strange common thread is that in all these stories there’s death, the threat of death, or some extreme hardship. (Kim’s Convenience might be the exception, but I suspect the challenge of starting a new life as an immigrant might be worth noting). In spite of this, they’re all about characters and people choosing life anyways. And that seems to go hand in hand with my outlook as an Enneagram 7, my fondness for the environment and life in a biological sense, and my own journey of overcoming.

#87 Rhys’ First Swing

28 March 2021 // San Diego, California

I’ve been reading some theories about why there’s so much job switching going on during the pandemic. My favorite theories are these:

1. Facing mortality makes everyone choose purpose over payment.

2. Horrifically fragile economy makes everyone develop backup skills.

3. Fatigue from overwork makes the grass on the side of every fence look greener.

4. Chronic stress at work fractures relationships.

While I don’t have a desire to jump ship from the work I’ve been doing the past four years, I do feel like my relationship with work has evolved. I think I have fewer expectations for work to deliver meaning or purpose. I have a lot of fun with what I do, but by not over-ascribing too much to it, I can better tend to other areas in my life.

Interestingly, I think you can find imbalance by either seeing too much value in work or not enough. This only makes me more in love with the concept of play as the purest form of work.

#88 Time for HMart

29 March 2021 // San Diego, California

Have you seen Raya and the Last Dragon yet?

I remember being pretty pumped about this film when the trailer dropped. So many visual nods to traditional Filipino clothing, weaponry, and other items. But was she actually supposed to be Filipina? She also eats Thai looking food, brandishes an Indonesian sword, and is voiced by a Vietnamese American actress. It’s never clearly stated.

And this ambiguity raises more questions. Is this a positive thing that pushes a pan-Southeast Asian unity? Another lumping of cultures that doesn’t acknowledge their diversity?

The waters that flow through the region both connect and divide, and its national borders don’t tell the full story.

#89 Educated

30 March 2021 // San Diego, California

There was a study conducted recently. People were placed in a room with various colored dots on the ground and told to pick up the blue ones. Slowly and stealthily, the blue dots were removed, leaving only other colors. What did people do in response?

They picked up the dots that looked blue-ish. Deeper purples. Teals and greens.

All that to say, often you find what you’re looking for. Even if that isn’t there.

Similar research was done asking people to identify threatening faces.

The implication of that, especially around policing and racial justice is pretty striking.

The other implication is that we can affect what we see in the world by training ourselves to look for things. Certain patterns that fit a narrative. Nobody is truly unbiased. We all tell ourselves different stories and see the things that fit the mold.

This can be scary, as in, none of us knows what things look like unaltered. But it can also be empowering. We just might have more say in our outlook than we think.

#90 Untamed

31 March 2021 // San Diego, California

International Women’s Month wrapped up this week but the work and the learning never end.

Recently, I got to read my way through three memoirs with a strong throughline of women’s empowerment. Glennon Doyle’s Untamed, Chanel Miller’s Know My Name, and Tara Westover’s Educated all speak of such different life experiences but there are definitely common threads of overcoming trauma, finding one’s voice, and relearning how to live. And it doesn’t hurt that all three are fantastic writers.

The story of Tara Westover growing up in a survivalist religious family with a strong paranoia against the government, public schools, and hospitals, Educated struck me as especially relevant right now. At a time where so many people are being lost to misinformation, it’s a reminder that people can leave, relearn, and find their own way, especially with patient teachers, helpers, and guides.

Untamed was one essay after the next packed full of writing chops I’m frankly jealous of. While it covers an expansive set of things, one of my big takeaways was the value of raising kids in a way that honors their true selves.

Know My Name felt so deeply personal-and it is that sort of book. It only adds to that effect that everything takes place in a younger person’s life in California and that Chanel Miller was a UCSB student around the same time I was. Her integration of the attack that happened to her added nuance to the way I think of victimhood and survivorship.

But Love Persisting

What is grief, if not love persevering?

Eish, Wandavision was a nice escape for several weeks, but after seeing that quote go around pretty widely over the weekend, clearly that line of dialogue struck a chord. It was so similar to a line one of my teammates shared: grief is love with nowhere to go.

What persists after losing somebody? So many things. There are the ideas they left in the world, both the ones they’ve articulated and the things they’ve taught people. The way they saw the world. You know that feeling when you experience something and you know exactly what somebody who isn’t there would say in that moment? A very powerful and hard-to-pin-down replica of the way that person saw the world enters your brain, creating that experience. That’s especially amazing when it’s somebody who had a unique and beautiful way of seeing the world. It’s amazing the ways we permanently change each other in the moments we spend together.

At least half of everyone I know has had to say goodbye to somebody special in the past 3-4 months. Those kinds of losses don’t need to define you, but they do shape you, and they’re worth spending time with.

📺📺📺

On a much simpler note, I decided to surprise Deanna with a day trip to Disneyland. They opened some of the park to walk around in and order meals to go. Entry was free and people did a decent job masking, distancing, and all that. The most popular attraction was easily this Wandavision photo-op. What a good day.

I Got the Shot

So a very good thing happened to me this week...

We’re now Deanna: 2, Philippe: 1 in dose counts. It’s not all over yet, but the light at the end of the tunnel is very much real. Also, the scientific spectacle in my arm is pretty incredible.

I saw two posts online this week.

One expressing fatigue at having run out of energy to keep up the Zoom calls and a lack of new things to say. It’s virality was an indicator of how widespread the exhaustion is.

The other came from someone who works at the hospital where they treated the US’ first patient. “I wish you all could see what I see everyday,” she shared. “This thing will end. We’re doing it!”

With a little more frequency, I can dream up the sights and smells of layover airports, movie theatre lobbies, and black box theatres.

Fatigue. Grief. Optimism. It’s all valid.

I don’t think any of us are really the same people we were a year ago, and though I’m sure the feelings are complicated, I hope that difference has been for the better.

Here’s to never taking community for granted, always looking out for the most vulnerable, loving the process, and being a little more like the person Ted Lasso makes me want to be.

Solving Problems v. Solving Feelings

There’s a big difference between actually solving a problem and solving the way we feel about a problem.

I just released a video on YouTube (link in the bio) exploring the myths around recycling. I spent a few weeks researching and writing it and it became clear that a lot of our environmental services weren’t designed to effectively eliminate waste or pollution, as much as they were designed to make people feel better about the problem.

The same pattern plays out in a lot of pushes for racial justice. It’s a lot easier to make the symbolic change (rename the mascot, hire some cast members of color) than it is to make structural changes (prison abolition, reparations, etc.) I do think public sentiment and symbols are important, but their impact is also different than the impact made by structural change. (That’s a whole nother video sometime)

I don’t think this only applies to society and culture. At a personal level there are a ton of other examples of how solving a problem can be different than solving how we feel about a problem. It’s a distinction worth paying more attention to.

Cabin Life

This cabin!! Accommodations used to be one of my lowest priorities when traveling. I used to intentionally plan nights of sleeping on a bus or in an airport into my schedule to save the cash.

Things are a little different when a baby, puppy, and pandemic enter the mix.

This cabin we found at Lake Gregory was exactly what we needed. Technically, it was a studio, but it had more space for Rhys to run around than he probably has at home. Our host even made us welcome soup and cornbread.

If I’m not gonna go the cheap route for accommodations, then I might as well embrace making the place I stay all part of the experience. We spent our nights here winding down as early as six for the coziest time of reading, movies, and sleep.

Some of the best places I’ve stayed:

🇦🇷 A backpacker hostel in Patagonia that nailed the woodsy cabin vibe, and set out fresh baked bread and dulce de leche for breakfast every morning

🇿🇲 A Zambian hotel called Fawlty Towers. The facilities were decent, but the adventures you could book at the front desk were almost too good to be true. I’m still in awe at the safari tour I got arranged.

🇮🇹 The apartment we stayed at on our last visit to Italy in Siena was again just right. A balcony and kitchen to keep us close to the heart of the city and exactly the right feel.

Big Bear Lake

It feels like forever ago, but it was only a few weeks back when we got to spend a few days in Lake Gregory- kinda near Arrowhead and Big Bear.

Pandemic travel is weird and we didn’t do things too differently than what we do at home to enjoy. Stay in, get takeout, read, and spend time in nature. But the time off and away was much needed and appreciated.

Highlights:
🏔 Lots of time exploring the San Bernardino Mountains
🏭 Walking the quiet storefronts in the downtown spots of small mountain towns
❄️ Rhys loved the snow, no surprise
🥘 The homemade soup and cornbread our host set out for us
☕️ The coziest cabin with a mega supply of coffee and tea

Rare and Beautiful

What a brutal time it is for so many people. The world, really.

I’m thinking of all the aged photos I saw on Instagram in the past month, young versions of friends next to parents and grandparents, just before the caption confirms it’s a loved one lost too soon.

I’ve been having a really hard time being blindsided with my own deep loss of a friend. Then there’s the ongoing lockdown, the attack on elders, and the challenge of pandemic parenthood. It’s a lot.

“There’s no way to have cohesive stories unless we embrace all of it: the good, the hard, the bittersweet, the joyful, the lonely, and the painful. It all counts! If we know something else to be true, it’s this: God is a keeper and curator of stories.”
–Aundi Kolber

Here’s one thing I’ve seen up close:

People reaching out, even in the most basic and simple ways, always matters. It always counts for much more than we give it credit for. To those who’ve offered that to me, my family, and community, I only have the sincerest thanks. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed when you can’t “save the world,” but that shouldn’t make you overlook the more human-sized task of showing up. To the people around you. To the gift of life. To the story of how we’re connected.

It’s a gift to be here. There’s plenty of bad to resist, there are many wounds to heal, and there are many good things to savor. And there’s no need to do this alone.

Kirstie

Kirstie... wow, what a beautiful life you lived my sweet friend. I’m absolutely heartbroken that our time together was cut short so abruptly... it still feels like I should be expecting a text or chat ping any minute, or that whenever I get to go back in to the office, we’ll be back in our old corner.

For the rest of my life, I’ll be so grateful you were a part of it. I feel so privileged that I got to spend so many ordinary, daily, mundane moments with you. You truly embodied that Mother Teresa saying about doing small things with great love.

You taught me many, many things. Like how apples aren’t as boring as I used to think they were, but quite the opposite. Or how you can always find time to dip in the ocean, even at the start or end of a long day.

Above all, you taught me how to see people. Reading over your old messages and the constant affirmation, makes me really hope to live up to the way you saw me. Whenever you looked at anyone, it was as if you were seeing the very best version of that person... whether it was a donor, an intern we managed together, a random salesperson, a lifelong friend, a kid in Mexico, etc.

I think the world would be so much better if we could all see ourselves and other people the way God sees us. That feels super lofty, but the way you saw everybody gave us a living, vibrant image of what that looks like. And I think because you deliberately chose to see the best version of each person, we all became a little bit more like the best version of ourselves.

You loved people so well. Thank you for everything, Kirst. Everything.

February 2021

#32 End of 42nd

01 February 2021 // San Diego, California

The weirdness of the pandemic is that it’s a burst of good news followed by a major setback… an unprecedented breakthrough, followed by a dragged out delay there seems to be no good explanation for.

I think for most of the pandemic, my preoccupation with keeping my family safe has given me greater reserves of patience than the average individual. But there are select days where the hunger for activities that have been off limits for a year grows sharp.

There have been a lot of those lately, especially as I’ve been missing friends and colleagues.

But it helps me to remember that Ebola, in a region without easy medical access, met its end in a few years. And the last major pandemic in 1918-1920 ended eventually, even without access to all our tools and knowledge. And many viruses tend to mutate in a benign direction for the sake of its survival.

Hopefully this ends sooner rather than later but this won’t go on forever.

#33 Vegetarian Nigiri

02 February 2021 // San Diego, California

I have had the strangest relationship with work over the past year.

I love what I do, in many ways I have my dream job.

At the same time I’ve experienced the limitations of how much work is and isn’t able to love you back.

I’ve hit points of frustration. I’ve also appreciated the people I work with like never before.

I’ve been torn on the entire concept of work, in a society that overvalues it and ascribes too much human value to their productivity.

I’ve also appreciated the feeling and opportunity of being part of something.

So many of these tensions are still there, but my favorite way of looking at work is largely inspired by my friend Gary, plus the mission of my workplace: we were meant to do things that give us joy and have meaning, whatever that means. Work in its best and purest form is play. Income inequality and poverty can take the fun out of the play and turn it into something else, but it’s always worth it to find ways to pursue play. 

#34 International Records

03 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Thinking over the past year and a half of parenthood, pandemic, and so many personal changes and upheavals, it really feels like I’ve cycled through the spectrum of human emotions in a very deep way.

When the pandemic was brand new and much was uncertain… there was apprehension, fear, and urgency.

When racial justice hit a breaking point, there was anger. Rage, frustration, and determination. A variety of anger that felt completely right.

Now, upon losing a wonderful friend, there’s deep, deep grief and sadness.

Before all this, of course, there was Rhys’ birth. There was hope and joy and the breakthrough after such a long, long wait. I can’t wait for a season like that to come back around.

#35 Liberty Wade

04 February 2021 // San Diego, California

It’s such a strange word, but it also seems so fitting to how I’ve been the past two weeks.

Of course there’s grief and deep sadness. There’s also a strange sense of deep appreciation for the mundane moments and the people around me. And the desire to bask in life a lot more.

I don’t often think of tenderness as a desirable quality. It often makes me think of a sore that hasn’t healed. Or even a child or animal in a distrusting mood.

The first time I ever heard it spoken of positively was two years ago by Gregory Boyle. “We must be tender to join to each other; that is God’s dream for us,” he said.

What does tenderness look like in action? That phrase alone is strange. But I’m eager to see it.

#36 CHORIZO Y NUTELLA

05 February 2021 // San Diego, California

It’s been a really hard past couple weeks. Big feelings, deep sadness. Most of all I just miss my friend. I’ve taken a couple trips to the cliffs over the ocean and really appreciate everyone who’s reached out.

There are so many beautiful things to say about her life, but one that stands out to me is her natural ability to see the very best in a person. We worked so closely and there wasn’t a single experience where I felt like I wasn’t given generous assumptions. It made me want to be more and more like the better version of myself.

#37 Tacos Panzon

06 February 2021 // San Diego, California

How do I want to be in this world?

I want to be non-judgemental, to be an optimist, and to believe the best about others in a strange way that brings it out in them. I also want to take no B.S., to be absolutely honest, and to have a strength that can birth gentleness.

I want to be unmistakably joyful, with a contagious strain that helps others feel grateful to be alive. I also want to be the kind of person who holds space for all the feelings, and who invites others to have that level of sincerity.

I want to challenge others into doing better, being better. I want to help people feel accepted and cherished.

I want to be ambitious, striving for major change and grander adventures. I want to be present and satisfied with simple things.

I know all these things are paradoxes. And I don’t want to be so back-and-forth that it takes away any of these flavors. Is this possible? I think in a strange way, this is what growth and maturity looks like. And I’m thankful we have the gift of others to show us how this could look.

#38 Drive-In Church

07 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Solidarity, not silence.

Last month, an 84-year old Thai man, Vicha Ratanpakdee was assaulted in San Francisco. Two days later, he passed away. An 89-year old Asian woman in Brooklyn was set on fire. A string of 20+ robberies and assaults were reported in Oakland’s Chinatown.

This isn’t news I wish to share in the least. But the news itself isn’t sharing it. I haven’t seen any coverage on the homepage of a major newsletter. It hasn’t been given any airtime.

It’s that same silence that allows violent attacks on Asian American communities to grow to 100 per day during the pandemic. It’s the same silence that kept me from learning about things like Vincent Chin’s murder or the Watsonville Riots until my 20s. It’s the same silence that led to 164 no votes from congressional reps that asked for nothing more than a denouncement of anti-Asian sentiment.

One thing I hate about stories like these is that they can make you feel helpless. But there are actual things to do. Work ahead that matters. And they revolve around building solidarity and rejecting silence.

Building solidarity means looking at how different groups’ struggles for racial justice are different, but interconnected. It means knowing history: Grace Lee Boggs, the Immigration wave that followed the Civil Rights Era, Yuri Kochiyama It means working to dismantle prejudices within one’s own group. It means understanding the Model Minority Myth and how its false promises ultimately harm both Asians and other groups of color.

Rejecting silence means speaking up. Every one of us is a steward of our own voice and relationships. It’s not about how big your platform is, it’s about using it well. Rejecting silence looks like denouncing violence. It looks like amplifying positive depictions. And it looks like unambiguously rejecting sinophobic rhetoric from political leaders, whether or not they’re the ones we support. 

#39 Asian Snack Aisles

08 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Almost every country’s top music charts are full of American songs, but the US doesn’t really get much exposure to other music.

I wanted to make my tastes international so last year I tried mixing in non-US based artists into my playlists.

🇨🇩 KOKOKO – Kitoko (DR Congo)

🇨🇴 Lido Pimienta – Nada (Colombia/Canada)

🇮🇹 Zak Munir – Io e Te (Italy)

🇪🇬 Mohamed Hamaki – Howa Da Habiby (Egypt)

🇷🇺 Klava Koka – Бабы (Russia)

🇮🇳 Rochak Kohli & Lauv – Dil Na Jaaneya (India)

🇨🇱 Tomas Del Real – La Creatividad (Chile)

🇪🇸 Cuchillo – Hora Bruja (Spain)

🇩🇪 Namika – Lieblingsmensch (Germany)

🇵🇸 DAM – Milliardat (Palestine)

🇨🇺 Cimafunk – Caliente (Cuba)

🇨🇱 Mon Laferte – Biutiful (Chile)

#40 Bird Rock Walk

09 February 2021 // San Diego, California

An underrated image of good leadership:

The ability to solicit totally honest and completely transparent feedback, including the stuff you don’t like to hear, from the people you serve. Simply nodding and validating what you hear, and letting people know they’ve been heard.

Fighting the urge to say anything in response or to justify anything, and just actively listening.

#41 Everyday These Days

10 February 2021 // San Diego, California

What a brutal time it is for so many people. The world, really.

I’m thinking of all the aged photos I saw on Instagram in the past month, young versions of friends next to parents and grandparents, just before the caption confirms it’s a loved one lost too soon.

I’ve been having a really hard time being blindsided with my own deep loss of a friend. Then there’s the ongoing lockdown, the attack on elders, and the challenge of pandemic parenthood. It’s a lot.

🤲🏽

“There’s no way to have cohesive stories unless we embrace all of it: the good, the hard, the bittersweet, the joyful, the lonely, and the painful. It all counts! If we know something else to be true, it’s this: God is a keeper and curator of stories.”

 –Aundi Kolber

🤲🏽

Here’s one thing I’ve seen up close:

People reaching out, even in the most basic and simple ways, always matters. It always counts for much more than we give it credit for. To those who’ve offered that to me, my family, and community, I only have the sincerest thanks. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed when you can’t “save the world,” but that shouldn’t make you overlook the more human-sized task of showing up. To the people around you. To the gift of life. To the story of how we’re connected.

It’s a gift to be here. There’s plenty of bad to resist, there are many wounds to heal, and there are many good things to savor. And there’s no need to do this alone.

#42 Window Book Shopping

11 February 2021 // San Diego, California

“Good climate policy must be rooted in a culture of listening”

–Maggie Thomas

Good news will always land much more quietly than bad news, but that doesn’t mean that good news doesn’t happen. It’s just the nature of news not to report these things. Good things happen gradually. Persistently, but gradually. News often refers to sudden changes and moments, but seeing the real story calls for looking beyond daily headlines.

One recent experience here is my recent discovery of how much more coal-independent we’ve gotten in just ten years. We’re roughly 3/5ths of the way to having shut down every coal plant. There are some surprisingly conceivable ways to reach full carbon neutrality in the next ten years.

#43 Sidewalking

12 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Work well. Respect the earth. Do something special.

As a young dad, I’m now going to think pretty carefully about what decorative signs we put up around the house, because I know how seriously Kirstie delivered on these three things.

The sort of work we did together tends to attract  people with a lot of save-the-world energy. It’s ambitious and energetic, but it isn’t always healthy. As someone who has at times struggled with that savior mentality, I know many of us need that famous reminder from Mother Teresa that we cannot do great things, but we can do small things with great love.

Few people I know embodied that quote better than Kirstie. Whether you were a donor, an intern, or a farmer she visited in Mexico or the Dominican Republic, you were a recipient of those small acts of great love. It was infused in every gala dinner she helped orchestrate, every thank you phone call she delivered, and every intern she helped nurture. 

One of the most common things you’ve undoubtedly heard echoed about Kirstie was her love of the ocean. It was a reverent love, recognizing the enormity of its power and the peace of its constant presence. One she often connected to her faith in God.

One of my personal favorite things about her was the simple fact that she basically made her way into the ocean every single day. I can remember times at work during busy seasons when she would head out around four or five, head into the ocean even for just a ten minute dip, before coming back to finish off the tasks at hand. I loved that.

Kirstie not only saw the best version of us, but because she did, it made us more like those people. She was a cultivator. You’ve heard so many people talk about Kirstie’s light and how she was like sunshine. The thing about sunshine is that it gives life, and it helps others grow.

Work well. Respect the earth. Do something special.

Wow. Check, check, and check.

#44 Big Ramen Energy

13 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Over the past century, Black farmers in the United States have lost around 80% of their farmland. This amounts to millions of acres and billions in lost wealth.

The injustice faced by Black farmers deserves a LOT more attention than it ever gets. But you know what else does too? All their contributions towards sustainable farming and agriculture!

It’s pretty amazing to connect the dots between George Washington Carver’s work in soil conservation or T.M. Campbell’s land management principles to some of my daily work with rural communities and the important regenerative farming techniques that offer promise towards solving climate.

I loved coming up with a micro-campaign for Plant With Purpose for Black History Month and it was a good reminder of how indebted I am to many who don’t receive proper credit.

#45 Big Sky Trail

14 February 2021 // Poway, California

I hope the stories I have to tell connect with people. The right people. And I hope they have some sort of impact.

But no matter what happens, I’m here to have fun with it. I’m here to love the process and to learn from it and to honor the work.

#46 Celebrating Kirstie’s Life

15 February 2021 // San Juan Capistrano, California

What a day to celebrate a friend’s beautiful life.

Kirstie was loved by so many, it was literally humbling to be asked to say a few words.

My heart still hurts but healing is happening too.

I love that one of the flowers we took home was an Icelandic poppy.

Kirstie helped us plan our trip to Iceland two years ago, and it was a lifelong wish fulfilled for me.

#47 Icelandic Flowers

16 February 2021 // San Diego, California

It feels like forever ago, but it was only a few weeks back when we got to spend a few days in Lake Gregory- kinda near Arrowhead and Big Bear.

Pandemic travel is weird and we didn’t do things too differently than what we do at home to enjoy. Stay in, get takeout, read, and spend time in nature. But the time off and away was much needed and appreciated.

Highlights:

🏔 Lots of time exploring the San Bernardino Mountains
🏭 Walking the quiet storefronts in the downtown spots of small mountain towns
❄️ Rhys loved the snow, no surprise
🥘 The homemade soup and cornbread our host set out for us
☕️ The coziest cabin with a mega supply of coffee and tea

#48 Black History Reads

17 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Accommodations used to be one of my lowest priorities when traveling. I used to intentionally plan nights of sleeping on a bus or in an airport into my schedule to save the cash.

Things are a little different when a baby, puppy, and pandemic enter the mix.

This cabin we found at Lake Gregory was exactly what we needed. Technically, it was a studio, but it had more space for Rhys to run around than he probably has at home. Our host even made us welcome soup and cornbread.

If I’m not gonna go the cheap route for accommodations, then I might as well embrace making the place I stay all part of the experience. We spent our nights here winding down as early as six for the coziest time of reading, movies, and sleep.

Some of the best places I’ve stayed:

🇦🇷 A backpacker hostel in Patagonia that nailed the woodsy cabin vibe, and set out fresh baked bread and dulce de leche for breakfast every morning

🇿🇲 A Zambian hotel called Fawlty Towers. The facilities were decent, but the adventures you could book at the front desk were almost too good to be true. I’m still in awe at the safari tour I got arranged.

🇮🇹 The apartment we stayed at on our last visit to Italy in Siena was again just right. A balcony and kitchen to keep us close to the heart of the city and exactly the right feel.

#49 Sake Service

18 February 2021 // San Diego, California

One thing I want to do a much deeper dive into soon: Seaweed.

Specifically, kelp farming.

Here’s some base knowledge I want to build on: as plants that can photosynthesize, kelp plays a big role in drawing down carbon. Carbon is a big problem for the ocean, too, which has grown 30% more acidic.

Kelp farms can buffer the impact of storms against the coast, and they are the building block to marine biodiversity.

#50 Brulee Flight

19 February 2021 // San Diego, California

There’s a big difference between actually solving a problem and solving the way we feel about a problem.

I just released a video on YouTube (link in the bio) exploring the myths around recycling. I spent a few weeks researching and writing it and it became clear that a lot of our environmental services weren’t designed to effectively eliminate waste or pollution, as much as they were designed to make people feel better about the problem.

The same pattern plays out in a lot of pushes for racial justice. It’s a lot easier to make the symbolic change (rename the mascot, hire some cast members of color) than it is to make structural changes (prison abolition, reparations, etc.) I do think public sentiment and symbols are important, but their impact is also different than the impact made by structural change. (That’s a whole nother video sometime)

I don’t think this only applies to society and culture. At a personal level there are a ton of other examples of how solving a problem can be different than solving how we feel about a problem. It’s a distinction worth paying more attention to.

#51 Moniker Cup

20 February 2021 // San Diego, California

I wanted to try to be the Anthony Bourdain of Tik Tok.

But at a time when travel remains out of reach.. The Asian supermarket remains a constant.

Thank you, 99 Ranch, for being an outlet for my need to explore internationally in some fashion.

#52 I got the Shot

21 February 2021 // San Diego, California

So a very good thing happened to me today...

We’re now Deanna: 2, Philippe: 1 in dose counts. It’s not all over yet, but the light at the end of the tunnel is very much real. Also, the scientific spectacle in my arm is pretty incredible.

I saw two posts online this week.

One expressing fatigue at having run out of energy to keep up the Zoom calls and a lack of new things to say. It’s virality was an indicator of how widespread the exhaustion is.

The other came from someone who works at the hospital where they treated the US’ first patient. “I wish you all could see what I see everyday,” she shared. “This thing will end. We’re doing it!”

With a little more frequency, I can dream up the sights and smells of layover airports, movie theatre lobbies, and black box theatres.

Fatigue. Grief. Optimism. It’s all valid.

I don’t think any of us are really the same people we were a year ago, and though I’m sure the feelings are complicated, I hope that difference has been for the better.

Here’s to never taking community for granted, always looking out for the most vulnerable, loving the process, and being a little more like the person Ted Lasso makes me want to be.

#53 Kick Up

22 February 2021 // San Diego, California

I read somebody’s description of Anthony Bourdain recently. It described him as a perfect example of what it means to be a kind person but not necessarily a nice one.

It also reminded me of how sometimes people use the language of peacekeeping and niceness in a way that assumes the presence of peace, or that things are going relatively well for most people. What may seem like the nice thing to do in these conditions can actually be very harmful if that isn’t actually the case.

Oftentimes what some of us think of as peace isn’t really peaceful. Or it isn’t readily available to all.

#54 Laying Out

23 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Is recycling BS? ♻️ I’ve heard a few times that recycling just doesn’t do as much as we might think. Eventually I decided to look into it.

I learned...

♻️ ...that just two years ago, our whole global system of managing recycling collapsed.

♻️ ...that this collapse triggered diplomatic feuds between Canada and the Philippines, France and Malaysia, the US and Cambodia...

♻️ ...that recycling was initially invented by the plastic industry to avert regulations.

#55 Striped Support

24 February 2021 // San Diego, California

NPR’s Throughline podcast has been running quite an excellent podcast mini-series right now.

They’re doing a three-part mini series exploring the lives of Octavia Butler, Marcus Garvey, and Bayard Rustin for Black History Month.

I started with the Marcus Garvey episode and I learned so much about his history and his contributions towards Pan-Africanism. Looking forward to diving into the rest of these.

#56 Camerawork

25 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Before Black History Month comes to a close, I’ve got to share my three most recent reads, all of which I’d recommend.

📙

Caste is getting all kinds of buzz, and deservedly so. Isabel Wilkerson looks at three applications of Caste: Nazi Germany, racial stratification in the US, and the assigned castes of India. One short lived and brutal, one ancient but persistent, and one I’m living in. This read was sobering but not fatalistic, and an important reminder of what can happen when we’re asleep to how inequities persist.

📕

How to Fight Racism is full of good reminders and a helpful, accessible read for someone wanting to turn their concern into action. Jemar Tisby has helped me learn so much about the church’s complicity in slavery and segregation, and I think this book is an important follow up to some of his work to show how faith communities can break those cycles.

📗

Then there’s The Color of Law. Housing segregation is the main vehicle for so many community level inequities- including educational disparities, overpolicing, public health, and environmental justice. It’s tough to keep track of all the acts, historical events, and court rulings that led to this. This book helpfully highlights a bunch of them. It’s important to talk about, so even though the history here is complex it’s worth the time it takes to try and understand.

#57 The Castle House

26 February 2021 // San Diego, California

When I was reading The Color of Law, some figures stood out to me. As a whole, poverty has gotten better. Many people do have more resources and this can make it seem like we’re making progress. At the same time, relative poverty has been very static. If a person was in a certain income bracket thirty years ago, their kids are most likely in that same bracket right now.

I think this would stand out to us more if we had a relational understanding of poverty, rather than an individual one. The starting point for taking action can’t just be programs and activities.

Poverty really stems from broken relationships. Perspectives that begin with seeing people in poverty as inherently lazy or deficient are a part of this problem. Injustice and oppression come from these broken relationships. When the powerful and comfortable exclude marginalized people, the relationship is dysfunctional.

The ways people in poverty have to submit to those in powerful- through inhumane working conditions, through being valued for their labor rather than their humanity, they become treated as non-persons.

#58 Tennis Ball

27 February 2021 // La Mesa, California

I’ve been reading quite a bit about different ecological themes, and one outcome is that a visit to the Amazon truly shot right up my bucket list.

It’s amazing to me how rich and vibrant and full of different kinds of life that area is. It’s just as complex vertically as it is horizontally.

The amount of sunlight and moisture that affects how everything grows and operates varies so much based on how high or low you are in the ecosystem. This makes everything dynamic and constantly adapting against each other.

The rhythm of the Amazon is full of sex and survival. Life is abundant, and so the mating process calls for showing up even louder than competitors. Birds delve towards loud mating calls and bright colored plumage. In almost total contrast, there are also so many predators in the jungle that there’s a premium on camouflage creatures that can lay low.

I know I’ve got to see this.

#59 Wandavision

28 February 2021 // San Diego, California

Today, I decided to surprise Deanna with a day trip to Disneyland. They opened some of the park to walk around in and order meals to go. Entry was free and people did a decent job masking, distancing, and all that. The most popular attraction was easily this Wandavision photo-op. What a good day.

2020's Lessons

One of the best ways to redeem a year like this one is to actually take the time to think through the lessons it had for us, to articulate the things we see differently from last January, and to make simple but doable plans for incorporating those lessons into our lives. Here are a few things that really sunk home:
⁣
💠Clarity is an act of kindness in a complex world. Sometimes we hold back saying important things for the sake of avoiding controversy. We veil our thoughts and true selves behind ambiguity. That usually serves no one but ourselves.

💠Whenever you speak up about things that matter, there will always be some who just won’t get it. Don’t worry too much about that. Definitely don’t let it stop ya. Just keep working on cultivating an ecosystem built on your values.
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💠Fear, anger, and sadness are valuable gifts that keep us safe, orient us towards justice, and remind us of what has value. Toxic positivity cuts us off from these gifts.
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💠Our Creator has given us everything we need… not just for survival, but to THRIVE. Don’t let the “running the world like a business” mindset trick you into seeing scarcity, instead of abundance and connection.
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💠You come to life when your pursuit of joy and your pursuit of justice get intertwined.

💠Don’t fear death, but don’t be its ally. All of us are vulnerable to how uncertain life is. That should be all the more reason to spend our lives serving the most vulnerable.
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💠 Productivity shouldn’t be confused with purpose. Our culture has DEEPLY wired us to find value in our output. Relearn those instincts. Enjoy the process.
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Happy New Years to ya. Happy to share this wild ride.