Abortion is essential healthcare

When it came to having kids, I've had men who tell me I'd change my mind and some women who'd insist the same. Most women nod knowingly—I see now that I was lucky. But first, some background.

I grew up in Catholic school, so I'm familiar with the rules around sex:

• Don't have sex before marriage.

• Don't have sex with someone you aren't married to.

• Don't have sex with someone you aren't going to marry.

• Don't have sex with someone you don’t love.

• Don't have sex if you aren't ready to have a baby.

In writing this now, I wonder if that's why some people think it's "romantic" to marry your high school sweetheart. It veils the truth of your "impurity" in some ways, especially if you were uncommitted to chastity. To my school's credit, they did a good enough job about teaching us about STDs and safe sex… Then again, so did the internet. In any case, breaking rules had consequences.

• Having sex before marriage means you aren't a virgin for marriage, your partner won't want you.

• Having sex before marriage means you're easy and men don't want easy women.

• Having sex without condoms means you might get an STDs, and you'll have to deal with it forever. (Honestly the most sensible rule.)

• Having sex before marriage might result in pregnancy, which means you'll have to have the kid. Abortion is not an option because you’ve condemned your eternal life to eternal damnation.

And with all those potential outcomes, I still had sex in high school.

I continued my young adult life having sex with people casually, sometimes monogamously, and mostly with people I didn't want to marry. I still carried the burden of the potential consequences; if there's anything that I was conditioned to believe, it's all my fault if something went wrong. I used birth control— first to manage my anemia, then to prevent pregnancy. I wasn't ready for a child, and I also knew I didn't want to raise one. Fast forward through a few years and relationships, I finally followed the rules.

I'm 31 now. It's been about 15 years since I first had sex. I've done all the "right" things. According to the rules prescribed to my life and womanhood:

• I'm having sex in a marriage.

• I'm having sex with someone I love.

• I'm on birth control so I don't get pregnant.

What happens if I do all the right things now and still become pregnant? I do not want children. Do I still need to keep the baby?

Anti-abortion legislation is a way of controlling the intimacy in my bed and the beds of other women

I take birth control now—what if I don't want to anymore for any reason? The reason doesn't matter because it isn't your business, yet your opinion is still here. Yes, there are other birth control methods I could use. Are you suggesting that I should have sex a certain way with my husband if I don't want kids? Like with condoms? Dental dams? The pull-out method? Are you interested in directing my sex life like a porno? Weird and invasive.

If one of your suggestions is don't have sex, that definitely didn't work the first time I heard it. Trust me. I know.

It doesn't matter if people do the "right" things when it comes to sex, there is always the risk of unintended consequences. It doesn’t matter if someone has the “right” circumstances or “wrong” reasons to access abortion. We shouldn't punish people for having and enjoying sex and intimacy. We shouldn’t prevent people from having access to tools that help them build the lives they want.

The marriage → sex → children pipeline isn't the only way to have a fulfilling life. I have a full life with my husband, our families, and our friends. I can be more generous with my time, my money, and my energy because I don't have kids. If I can't access a safe abortion, that changes. If women don't have access to safe abortions, their presence in the lives of their loved ones changes too.

Anti-abortion legislation is a way to control how present women can be in their own lives

More insulting, it limits my ability to change my mind.

I’m very aware I could have my tubes tied (bet you don’t know it’s called a tubal ligation) or my husband could have a vasectomy. Depending on the method used, it can be permanent. These are options for us. I’m very aware I don’t want kids. What’s also true is that our society is unforgiving when it comes to people changing their mind, regardless of what they’re changing their mind to.

What if we (my husband and I) change our minds about how we want to be a family? That could involve children. Are you going to pay for the adoption fees if we choose that? What if I can't get pregnant when we have sex? Will you shoulder the costs of our IVF treatments? If we get sterilized now, would you pay for our frozen sperm, eggs, or embryos just in case we change our minds? Will you pay for our surrogates? Will you be there to help us bear the repeated burden of grief when things don't work out?

If my life was at risk, would you make my husband choose a baby over me?

Our conversations on family planning isn’t anyone else’s business, but that’s part of the discussion with anti-abortion legislation. What options are available to us and what options do we want to take? What happens to us when certain options are no longer available?

Anti-abortion legislation is a way for people (who have no actual presence in our lives) to dictate what we can do

There are thousands of stories of why women have abortions. All those reasons don't matter; they're not our business. I'm sharing my story, and what it means for my family. I will be a less present wife, friend, daughter, and auntie in the life I want to lead. I cannot imagine the trauma I might pass to a child I don't want, whether through my own hands or those of the foster system.

If your belief in anti-abortion legislation is rooted in punishing women, I pity you and your belief that others should suffer.

If your belief in anti-abortion legislation is rooted in compassion, I urge you to extend that compassion to the women who choose abortion. Consider why these women might choose abortion and what resources they don't have access to because of time or money. I urge you to consider why we care so much for unborn children. Why don’t we give the same consideration to their mothers or the circumstances they both would live through if the child is carried to term?

It’s been a while since I’ve been to church, but I’d like to think God is compassionate—that’d he’d like for us to extend that same compassion to other people.

There's compassion in preventing a life from being born into unsupportive circumstances, whether it's an abusive system or a home that can’t support more people. Most women who have abortions are already mothers, aware of what their limits are. Some of these women are considered low income, already unable to provide for themselves.

More on abortion stats from the New York Times

I'd like to think we want all children to thrive; for them to grow and lead fulfilling lives. I'd like to think we also want that for ourselves and would support others building the lives they want. These two things aren't in conflict. Why wouldn't we want that for each other? How do we choose and vote differently so everyone is healthy, supported, and fulfilled in their lives, regardless of circumstances?

Abortion is a tool

Controlling access to abortion is about controlling our healthcare decisions. It’s about sex and how we’ve stigmatized it in our society. It’s about controlling how women show up for themselves and for their families. If a woman is less present for her children, we see her as a bad mother. If a woman chooses not to have children, she’s selfish. How fucked up is that? How can we build communities with love when we don’t trust women to choose what’s best for their circumstances?

The ability to enjoy sex or have children or access abortions shouldn’t be determined by your wealth or social class.

At 31, I have access to more money, time, and healthcare than I ever did at 16 or 22. I advocate for abortion healthcare because other women who are like 16-year-old me or 22-year-old me may not have access to the same support systems I did, the same healthcare I did, or even the same opportunities I did. We hurt our communities when we stigmatize abortion and leave women unsupported, regardless of their healthcare decisions.

Abortion is a family planning tool that can help women build lives, be present for their loved ones, and fulfill their own goals and dreams. I trust other women know what's best for themselves. Everyone deserves to choose what’s best for their lives without judgment or scrutiny.

It isn't hard.

Either you trust that women will choose what's best for their lives, or you don't.

Like a "local"

Over the years, I've reflected on what it means to eat/live/be like a local when traveling. I first heard the phrase from a friend who loved Anthony Bourdain and aspired to travel like him. It didn't mean anything to me, as a high school kid on O'ahu with no sense of the world's greatness and little interest in travel shows. I knew the world was big, but my vision was as limited as my time and money.

As I got older, I came to resent the phrase. In Youtube videos and blogs, to "be a local" seems synonymous to traveling "authentically" and getting "real" experiences. What does that actually mean to people when they say it? What did it mean to me?

The privilege of travel

When you have more money, you can afford convenience and ease. You can choose a taxi or shuttle instead of public transport. You can afford to eat anywhere and eating street food is a choice, not a necessity. You can stay somewhere convenient and save time on commuting. If you have less money, you have less ability to choose all of these things. You might choose to stay somewhere cheaper and sacrifice time. Or you may opt for cheaper food to stay somewhere convenient.

If you have more money, whether by amount or a favorable exchange rate, that puts you at an advantage over locals. Is that still real or authentic?

There's the matter of looking like a visitor too. You absolutely will get treated differently if you look like you belong. My Seattle friends who look and act like me are treated as kama'aina in Hawaii. With my brown skin and dark hair, there isn't any expectation that I am a local in Japan or Iceland. Thanks to colonialism, there are countries that might treat you better if you're white, might treat you worse if you're black, and scam you all the same if you look like them and can't speak the language.

When I watch Youtubers say Philippine people are nice, that's in contrast to my lived-in-the-PI-until-his-thirties-US-citizen cousin's experience of bribing cops because they knew he was a tourist. I'm sure there are other experiences, but which one is authentic?

When I listen to someone's experience, I consider what they look like. Did they get treated well because they're a visitor or because they look the way they look? My Japanese coworker telling me that Japan has great customer service is very different from a white Youtuber saying the same thing. When my Japanese-speaking BFF who looks like me shares their opinions, so I'm more inclined to believe all of them.

I've watched TikTok videos of foreign exchange students in Thailand and Black teachers in Japan. All of their experiences are real and they're all different. Is one really more authentic than another?

Entitled to authenticity

I think about how people want to avoid doing the "touristy" things, but is that so bad? Is it so bad to exist in spaces meant for people who are tourists? Is it so bad that your experience is like every other visitor? Is it so bad that it isn't unique?

There's entitlement in believing that a place opens all its doors to you. Much like a person doesn't reveal all their dreams and insecurities, your vacation destination is the same—and it doesn't owe you a good time. Secret spots traded on trust in Hawaii, yet tourists light them up on Instagram and TikTok. The same spots are also trashed and left worse off than before. Anyone remember the soap foam in Waihe'e? Is it any wonder that there's animosity towards people who believe sacred spaces clean up after themselves?

In the same way that 19th-century English writers ventured to India, Africa, or some unconquered territory to gain new perspective and enlightenment, tourism does the same. Visitors pay to have the same experiences for the same enlightenment and to have their world changed in the same ways as the books they read or the TikToks they watch. The only difference is that instead of directly enslaving people, tourists use money to do it instead.

Tourism exploits the host culture and demands that it offer up more and more of itself to those who want the exotic. It commodifies nature, sells people as products, and their lived experiences as services. This industry serves people who believe they paid to be served. Even more insidious, it takes advantage of cultures that already believe in treating each other well. That practice is more ancient than any anthropological assessment, and it is priceless.

What cheapens it is the tourism industry that takes more than it gives.

I'm always interested in seeing what parts of a place people love when they visit. Enjoying a vacation and loving a place aren't the same thing to me. Some people stay the whole time in a hotel and call it a good vacation, that's great. I'm glad, I believe in rest. What does your rest cost other people supporting it?

When you say you love Hawaii, what do you love? Do you only love the perfectly manicured lawns and golf courses with non-native plants? Do you only love the sterile song of the ocean without the boundless joy of those who soak it in? Do you only value the illusion of isolation even if it means others can't easily access the same sea and sky?

Money can buy a lot of things, but it can’t buy perspective.

When a local asks what you liked about your vacation, you don’t have to impress us, we already know what’s good. Of course food is good, of course places are beautiful, we know that already. We don't want you to only see the commodified version of our existence and it's not an invitation to all our secret spots and places. We're asking if you respect it as we do and see it as we do…Even if it means you can't access it like we do. Eating food or going to a publicly accessible place is sometimes the closest you can get to a local's experience, and that's ok.

You are a tourist, and it's ok to call yourself one.

Be a good guest

All this to say, can you really have that real and authentic experience and really visit like a local?

• Real? Sure, I'm not gonna tell you that you didn't swim at a great beach.

• Authentic? Maybe, but ask yourself what you’re trying to prove with that title.

• Be a local? No. That's like saying you're smart. Other people can say that about you, but once you start saying it about yourself, you look ridiculous.

There is no perfect recipe to be a tourist and good guest, but there are lots of ways to be bad at both.

It's ok to be a tourist. I love being a tourist. I like seeing things I wouldn't see at home. I like not knowing things. I like trying something new. I know what I like, so I won't be lining up for IG photo spots, but I love visiting places where and when I'm welcome. That could be a random food festival or a smaller public park to eat.

To be clear, tourism isn't all bad, but it is always exploitative.

Local people sustain the tourism industry. In Hawaii, small surf businesses, wedding businesses, mom and pop businesses, and food businesses supplement a vacation experience and may only see fractions of the profit. Some may barely break even. The industry's investments into the local infrastructure only serve itself. Your tourism dollars buy trap people in an industry of servitude, vulnerable and with few ways out. Unchecked tourism doesn't seek symbiosis, it's a parasite sucking the culture dry.

You might believe your money is "good" for the economy. It often comes at the cost of erasing local culture and exploiting the environment. It's like gentrifying a place you don't live in; all the money is used to serve the industry… Not the locals who have to work in it, not the environment that serves it. In some cases, it's gentrifying it just enough so it's enticing for outsiders to move in and call themselves locals.

When you are a tourist, you have the option to leave. You get to leave your fantasy of being a local to return to your “authentic” life.

It's ok to be a tourist and guest

The reality is that we aren’t all Anthony Bourdain. Not everyone is a conscientious traveler. Not everyone is looking for authenticity. They just want the experience that money affords them. And sometimes that experience goes as far as buying a house for their forever vacation home. 

To eat/live/be like a local when you travel is to recognize you may never be one. You will always have privileges that your country of origin, currency of origin, and appearance afford you when in a new place. Your vacations will operate outside of the historical context of your destination. You can choose how much, and how little, you engage with the lived realities of the people around you and still contribute to their wealth (or lack of).

You can buy land, tan your skin, eat our food, and still never be a local. You can force your neighborhoods to look like you and sound like you, devoid of roosters and pigs and people who have lived here longer than you and still never be local. Your otherness is a gift, an opportunity to gain new perspective while insulated by your privilege. If you commit to changing and learning from your hosts, maybe one day you’ll earn the privilege to pass as a local.

Until then, it's ok to be a tourist. My advice? Listen and learn from the people who graciously share their home with you. Be a good guest and follow their lead.

And every good guest knows when to come, what's off limits, and when it's time to go.

Why do people think Turning Red is about periods?

Because we portray periods as the single most important change in a preteen girl’s life…and there isn’t a lot of media that shows otherwise.

Calling all cringy girls

When I think about movies I've watched, there are a few where boys are shown as awkward and strange and interested in the girls. Although Rated R, Superbad is the first to come to mind. Teen boys can have desires, be unsure of how to behave, not know anything about periods… and it's fine? I can't name a specific movie, but examples of boys' voices cracking as they grow up are normal. We all know that's a thing—we don't need movies that spell it out.

Meilin and her friends aren’t so different from that. They pine for the singers in 4-Town, pretending they’ll all be married someday. They ogle the clerk at the local corner, and Meilin draws imagined scenarios of them together. Her heart beats faster when she sees her classmate, and she doesn’t get what’s happening to her. I mean, did any of us?

Portraying puberty for girls shouldn’t need a period to make a point. If periods were treated like cracking pubescent voices, would it be as weird?

Straight to high school

In the 1990s-2000s, there wasn’t age-appropriate media that showed the onset of puberty for girls. The movies available in my youth were sanitized of it. No pads, no training bras, nothing. Outside of books, nothing existed to say crushes and imagined romantic scenarios are normal for a 12 year-old girl.

High school comedies were funny, though mostly focused on romance… so where were the ones for girls like me?

Mean Girls was my first, and most memorable, movie on female adolescence. It paralleled parts of my middle school experience, and it was funny! Romance is only one conflict in the film, not the entire plotline. The themes of authenticity, insecurity, and friendship are all present, and this film's impact on pop culture is unquestionable.

But as much as I like the movie, it's not about the onset of adolescence… Where girls are still more like children than adults.

God, it’s brutal out there

Preteen girls have it rough. Liking boy bands is juvenile, but having a boyfriend is grown-up. They have bad taste in music but are the trend setters for, like, everything. They're too young to have desires but old enough to be desirable. Our current portrayals aren't enough as these same portrayals tell girls they aren't enough.

There’s so much fun in the messiness of growing up.

If we don’t acknowledge their imaginations or curiosity or awkwardness, we’re telling girls that they should jump neatly from the box of childhood to adulthood without any mistakes or any experiences. Another unrealistic expectation in an already long list.

Girls should just be. They should be cringy and goofy and weird without whatever hangups and expectations others have of them. Turning Red is a story that loves them for doing just that, and reminds us that we should too.

Big feelings, great expectations

Some people might turn red when they have big feelings, but Meilin turns into a red panda. It’s her first time dealing with intense emotions… Excitement about 4-Town! Fun with friends! Embarrassment by parents!

It’s a lot to figure out, but it sure is fun to watch.

Turning Red isn’t about periods—those are just one part of puberty after all. The film is about redefining your relationships as you grow and learn new things about yourself. It's about loving yourself through all the changes…And trusting that your people will love you the whole way through. I’m hopeful we’ll see more like it in the future.

At least that way, we can stop assuming movies for preteen girls are about periods.

75

memories lost

in minds aging faster than we do
decaying faster than we do
faltering as we do

to technology years younger than us
as fickle as us
changing with the trends like us
falling to its whims like us

with passwords forgettable
with people regrettable
with obsolescence inevitable.

memories belong to time
becoming sweeter
as they dance upon our lips
and leave us with the fleeting joy
found in impermanence

Stopping Asian Hate isn't enough

I am an Asian American and what happened yesterday saddens me. A lot of the AAPI community (Asian American Pacific Islander) is hurting. The people who have died are much like our moms, our aunties, our sisters, our grandmas. Victims of other crimes are our fathers, our uncles, our brothers, our grandpas. It’s a fear that has slept in the back of my mind since moving to the mainland, and it has come to fruition. There are people out there who could look at people like me and think we’re deserving of violence. It's terrifying, infuriating, and yet, unsurprising.

Our country loves protecting whiteness from the consequences of its actions.

Just yesterday, a cop said that the murderer had a "really bad day." A lot of people have really bad days. But very few people kill others because of it. Law enforcement and the media have centered instead on his sexual addiction, despite his church attendance, and have ignored the narratives of his victims. If they're gonna center on that, then they should commit to it.

• Yes, he had a sexual addiction.

• Yes, he had a very bad day.

• Yes, his solution to his bad day and sexual addiction was to murder people at Asian establishments.

If they were fully committed, then they should acknowledge he had mental health problems that this country refuses to address.

Every time we have a white man committing mass shootings, murders, bombings, it's always about their mental health. This country never centers on the victims, the grief, the pain, the lives lost. Instead, they reliably focus on the troubles that these perpetrators have. But certain lawmakers doesn't want to commit to Medicare for all; they don't want to dedicate money to mental health resources. Let's not forget that to cut costs, President Reagan dismantled the foundations of a mental health system in this country. Look at how it started and look at where we are now.

The narrative of the troubled white man is an easy scapegoat. People will look at him and feel pity. He didn't have help, he didn't know better. Fixing the problem becomes inconvenient. If mental health (and health in general) was a priority in this nation, sexual addiction could be addressed. Violent ideation could be addressed before it becomes realized. People wouldn't die because of a troubled man looking for external solutions to internal problems.

But once this country provides resources for mental health, it will no longer have a convenient cover for its racism.

We should absolutely stop Asian hate, but the problem is much bigger than that. There are people out there who will be racist and will absolutely not stop their shit. Demanding that we "stop Asian hate" puts the onus on our communities to change their minds and defend ourselves. We should absolutely do that when we can. But we should also demand that our representatives fund our communities and mental health resources.

Show them that racism is not just a symptom of the mentally unwell. It’s how this country is.

Communities of color would have one more resource for us to heal from trauma… But we also get another resource to protect us from people who believe they have the right to act on their racist, violent ideations. This narrative isn't separate from the violence against the AAPI community. This specific instance could even be framed as:

Man's untreated sexual addiction and hyper-sexualization of Asian women led to violent ideations which he acted upon. This is a failure of our country's healthcare system due to a lack of mental health resources.

The violence of whiteness doesn't get to hide behind mental health problems. If we strip away the "troubled white male" narrative, then whiteness gets to stare at itself in a mirror. It's the first step in acknowledging that this country's problems aren't external, but deeply embedded in its history and culture.  It needs to realize that it created this problem by insisting that assistance is weakness.

Our inability to provide for vulnerable communities and people, regardless of race, is true weakness.

Today, I rest and I grieve with the families who lost their loved ones. I share their names in honor of their stories because we are the same. Our communities believe in our connectedness. Our bonds make us strong, and we should depend each other to make us stronger and keep us safe.

Ingat kayo.  

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Musings 30: Hair

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I reference this picture of me a lot but never seem to have it available when I do.

8th grade me didn’t wanna do pictures and probably was just OVER the fact I had wake up during summer break at a ridiculously early time of day. It may have been an act of defiance from me because I just... Didn’t want to blowdry or fix my hair into an acceptable style. I may even have had allergies which made my eyes super itchy and poufy. I also probably just got those braces (I would have them for 5 years)! I remember a classmate said I was brave for taking a picture with my hair like this. I took it as a compliment, though I’m certain other people would have disagreed with her. 

Despite that, I've always loved her defiance and confidence.

When I reached my 20s, men would love my hair and my smile and tell me about how desirable it would be if I kept it up or down or long or short and I wanted none of those things for me. I wanted, as any 20 something year old would, to be desirable. So I adjusted my hair based on the boys I was interested in… and I found that being desirable requires work. Eventually, I learned that I didn’t want to put that work in. There are so many more interesting things about me.

As many friends have pointed out, my Tinder-esque bio line screams confidence. Sexual confidence not so subtly implied. My hair is wild, but it really isn't the only wild thing about me. I build wild worlds in my wild dreams. I have lips tamed just enough to keep in the first unfiltered words I think. I have whims and strange interests and just have so much more life in me than my damaged, straightened hair ever did.

After years of chemically straightening my hair, which is arguably more annoying and most offensive to my nose, I stopped. It’s tiring and just a weird representation of what my hair actually is. My hair now is stubborn, like me. Some days are great and it's as full and bouncy and fun as I can be. Other days it's frizzy and unkempt like I also can be. I'm still learning how to take care of it in this texture and it's difficult, but it's a pleasant challenge. It's healthier like the relationships I'm choosing to surround myself with now.

Despite the expectations I placed on myself and influenced by other people, I should have known. The wildest part of me has always been my spirit. Eight grade me would be pleased.

74

I've stopped growing and dreaming and becoming.
I've already grown and dreamt and become.
I've settled into myself
Like the dust on shelves
once within my reach.  

I'm no longer enamored by the possibilities of life,
But comforted by certain companionship
towards an uncertain tomorrow.

And yet,
I'm delighted by the joy you've found with me.
Tell me your stories and I'll tell you mine,
Of old loves and youthful summertime,
And reawaken the dormant life in my bones.   

I'll tell you of my sweetheart,
Who saw me in my best years.
And you'll tell me about your darling,
While we laugh through the tears.  

They say love is saved for the beautiful and the strong,
Who have the world before them,
While our years are long gone. 

And yet

This could be love,
Even as we walk slowly,
Hand in hand,
Towards that eternal darkness.

Go with grace

I'm actively avoiding the election results, but my friends have been texting me about them. Half of this country voted for Trump and it's disappointing and unsurprising. Here's the deal. This is what you said when you voted the way you did:

You value property more than a person

Maybe you really don't like how people are protesting the Black Lives Matter movement. In some media depictions, people are destroying businesses, some of which belong to other minorities. I get it. It's frustrating and destructive and infuriating, that's people's livelihood. They worked hard for it and it shouldn't be pillaged in seconds. But guess what? The looters and business owners are both victims.

In the same way looters shouldn't be robbing the livelihoods of other people, police shouldn't be robbing Black people of their lives. We're fighting each other instead of breaking down a system that continuously victimizes Black lives. Then this system passes the cost of the destruction to the communities around it. Listen, if the police were here to protect you or your property… Shouldn't they be there dealing with it? You call them for trespassing and theft, this isn't really that much different.

Instead, they go to protest locations to "supervise" protests with your tax dollars. OH, and police aren't obligated to save you… In fact, here's some guidelines on how to protect yourself from them. So really, what are they there for?

Yep. Enforcing and "law and order" through power. You'd rather protect your power and your tenuous safety instead of removing a system that just jeopardizes it. Someone once asserted that if "Black men weren't participating in their communities, they wouldn't have so many single parent homes."

You know what robs Black families of their fathers, brothers, and uncles and sons? The incarceration system. Watch 13th on YouTube for free to educate yourself.

You complain about looters, but rob at-risk communities of resources and support… Then make small businesses pay the monetary costs and Black people pay with their lives. That's the cost of keeping your property safe the system intact.

Your give the dollar more dignity than a human being

Maybe you voted to cut your taxes. Guess what… Billionaires pay less in taxes than you do. Billionaires make money off their dividends and investments off stocks. Corporations can afford to pay you more and pay more in taxes. They're robbing from you to line their own pockets. Corporations have money to lobby politicians into cutting their taxes and increasing their profits.  Hell, did you know TurboTax audits poor people more than rich people?

But no. You want to save your tax dollars instead of contributing to the society you participate in. Remember that the next time you complain about someone being "unaware" or "stupid" or "useless" to society. Remember when you get mad about some bureaucratic nonsense like filling out your parents' Medicaid forms. Remember that when you fly through an airport and drive around. Guess what? Those cut taxes fund education, Social Security and Medicaid, public transportation and more. 

If you want to participate in society, you get it with all its problems. You don't stop participating once you've "made" it. You'll always be around people who don't have as much as you. Our social safety nets exist to help people from falling into despair and debt. One day they’ll contribute to the nets that helped them. Yes, there will always be freeloaders, that's part of being in a society. You don't get to choose who's in them, but you can choose how you include them. There will always be inefficiencies, and frankly, if you want people skilled enough to fix them… Then you better be willing to pay for it.

Instead of improving the communities you live in and making them more effective and efficient, you complain and vote for people who cut taxes… To what? Line your own pockets. Why? Because billionaires and corporations aren't paying their fair share in taxes and are profiting off your work and productivity. I'm willing to bet they profit millions of times more than you. You saved hundreds in taxes… They saved billions. They can afford it. Most of us can’t.

Your vote to "cut taxes" adds less value to society than the "freeloaders" who are part of it.

You excuse racist, xenophobic, anti-LGBTQIA+, misogynistic rhetoric

Maybe you treat your neighbors with dignity and respect, regardless of what they look like. You treat everyone the same no matter who they are. In the most ideal society, that's how it should be.

But that's not our society.

Your willingness to excuse these views tells me that you think you're better than these people. That they're not entitled to the same respect for who they love, where they come from, and what they look like. You don't mind the abuse and harassment is thrown their way because it's not targeted at you… Or worse, you think they're not good enough and they deserve it.

You don't care if someone is wrongly jailed because of their skin color. You don't care if people who immigrated here as literal babies are forced to go to a country they don't know. You don't care if someone's marriage is invalidated and their families aren't legally recognized. You don't care if someone feels entitled to a woman's time and body. This list goes on.

You want to feel safe, but you're jeopardizing other people's safety in order to do so.

You think you're better than me… somehow

There are countless things that you say when you support Trump. I'm frustrated when I see his supporters say liberals or Biden supporters or snowflakes are somehow "less compassionate" or "less loving" or "less kind"… And that's some bullshit. I don't always agree when Biden supporters say the same thing about the other side. No party or person is perfect and expecting people to be infallible moral bastions is an unreasonable ask.

But this is where we fundamentally differ.

The people I support aren't perfect and I don't expect them to be. Hell, they've made mistakes, but I do think they're open to change, they're willing to grow, and they're willing to improve. They’re willing to try. Being part of an inclusive community and society requires disagreeing on solutions, fixing toxic behaviors, and challenging core beliefs. Participating in a society is work.

So is choosing compassion and love and kindness.

Compassion becomes disappointing when people take advantage of it. It's high risk and high reward. People you love can hurt you. Being kind sucks when there's hate around you. But you persist and you try because it's braver than hate. Hope is crushing and disappointing but when nurtured, grows resilience.

 I believe in the dignity of life. Unconditionally. 

I believe in extending compassion, empathy, and respect to people whose experiences and views are different from mine. I don't support policies and views that make life more difficult for other people. I will never consider property and money more valuable than life. To me, people should live freely and without fear, so long as they don't violate the dignity of another life.

Trump and his supporters do not treat lives with dignity. By supporting a man like Trump, you're telling me that you don't mind the hate he enables. You don't care that others’ safety is at risk with the violence he encourages. Maybe you excuse it because you're your own person and you think you're better than them. Maybe you feel like you don't owe it to anyone.

I cannot and will not put up with your inability to respect the dignity of life. I can respect you as a human being, but I will not excuse your political views. I give my respect freely, but you are not entitled to it. I do not owe it to you when you demand it. I will not tolerate your views to help you validate your own goodness. That said, if you voted for Trump. That's fine. I have the grace to grant you the same respect as I would a stranger.

Even that has more compassion, respect, and dignity than the way you voted.

Counting

I haven't been blogging. It's something I've wanted to do since Washington issued the Stay at Home orders. I did a little bit, and I DID do some writing for a personal project of mine… But I haven't wanted to write for my blog. At ALL.

I was initially going to talk about how I've been super productive, like I've been drawing more, doing yoga, baking(!) but I just don't want to. I've even journaled a little bit, so I have been writing. For me, I feel like blogging  would have been putting words to what an awful fucking year it really has been.

I am so lucky that my situation is such that I can still work safely from home. But I know not everyone has the privilege of doing that. I think about Jio at my favorite Thai restaurant in Kirkland and Frank at Salt & Straw. Are they doing alright? I think about the people at home like Anthony, one of the cleaners from the Apple Store I used to work at. Is he doing ok? Does he have someone who can help him file for unemployment if needed? Is someone taking care of him? I'm so worried for all the people who are or have in my life, even in really small ways, and pray fervently to whatever God is listening that they're ok. I really hope that they're ok.

That's just the start of it.

I haven't been able to sleep properly. Like yeah, I am sleeping and sometimes, really well, but I NEED to make sure I don't let the thoughts creep in so I'm up until 2am thinking about every worst possible case scenario that could ever happen. Those thoughts are the loudest. They start as a quiet whisper as I'm winding down for the night, watching the last minutes of a TV show. They get louder when I brush my teeth and get even louder if I decide to listen to them in safety of my dark room and warm blanket. Then, I'll ruminate on these thoughts, chewing on them like an animal gnawing at its own limb trying to escape from the trap it wandered into…

To sleep, sometimes I'll count my breaths.
Inhale. Exhale. One.
Inhale. Exhale. Two.

If I lose count, I start over. At least this way, the thoughts can't creep in. I'm finding that this is working less and less. It's probably because I've lost count of my own days. I don't know how many days we've been at home. To be fair, I could probably look it up. Most days look the same. I can't count how many days have been more similar to each other than different. Sometimes, I don't know which memories and events are closer to me than others. 

Counting up doesn't work in the daylight. At night, counting up finishes when I fall asleep. Its purpose finishes when I start a new day. Maybe it's because it's shorter. Nowadays, I'm counting up to different goals.  Defined but untimed goals. When will a vaccine be available? When will I be able to travel freely? When will I feel safe again? Will I feel safe again? Has that feeling of security be ripped away from me? Or is it that I'm more aware of its tenuous nature?

I realize now that a lot of people are counting up to things that may never come.

I guess I should say, counting up is a kind of countdown… Just counted differently. I have countdowns… A countdown to Election Day, one for when I see my family again, another one for Christmas, another one for Inauguration Day. All clearly defined and timed. There's some security in that… Right?

I know there isn't, but it's something to hold on to.

All lives don't matter

Let me ask you a question, do Black lives matter?

"Yes, but all lives matter."

 I'll phrase it differently, are Black lives important?

"Yes, but all lives are important."

Ok, one more time, are Black lives valued?

"Yes, but all lives are valued."

That's where you're wrong:

• Black lives aren’t valued when they’re shot in their sleep, like Breonna Taylor.

• Black lives aren’t valued when they’re shot in their own neighborhoods, like Ahmaud Arbery.

• Black lives aren't valued when they're shot eating ice cream in their own homes, like Botham Jean.

• Black lives aren’t valued when a Black 12-year old boy gets shot by a cop, like Tamir Rice.

And there's hundreds more… So are there lives that matter less?

If All lives matter and no lives matter less… Then why is it so hard for you to hear Black people say their lives should be valued? That Black lives are important? That Black lives matter?

You probably think they’re saying Black lives are more important. 

Are you afraid that you won’t matter anymore? Are you afraid that you won’t be important anymore?

Don’t worry, all lives are important. 

Your life is important, your life matters, and your life has value. You've already insisted upon this each time you insist on All lives matter. Yet you hate and argue each time Black people say Black lives matter and are important each time a Black person dies?

"Yes, but the media the doesn’t show other people dying too!"

They are children dying, cancer patients dying, and veterans dying. You don’t say "All lives matter" when that shows on the news, do you? Do you assume your life matters less when they die?

No. You usually shut up and let people grieve.

“Yes, but they’ve destroyed someone’s property with looting and rioting.”

Are Black lives less important than a $20 bill? Are Black lives less important than a Gucci bag or a pair of pants at Target? Listen to Black people when they say their lives are more important than a $20 bill and are invaluable.

"Yes, but they've destroyed people's businesses."

So why aren't the cops protecting businesses? Cops are supposed to be working for us. So if the concern is property damage, and looting, and rioting… Why aren't cops protecting places from that happening? Should those people have hired private companies and defended their own businesses? If so, then why do we need cops?

"Yes, but what about my suffering?"

You very definitively said All. Lives. Matter. No exceptions. No one is more important or less important, but you insist upon it. You may say all lives matter but think about how we treat other lives that matter:

• Illegal immigrants

• Abused children and women

• Rape victims

• Veterans

• And many more.

Let me be clear. No one has a monopoly on pain or suffering or trauma. When your parent dies, does someone go to their funeral and say All lives matter? All moms matter? All dads matter? When a child dies, do you say all children matter? No. So, when a Black person is killed violently and horrifically, why is it so easy for you to say "All lives matter" when their communities are grieving?

"Yes, but all lives DO matter."

It harder to say "All lives matter" when you have exceptions. I'm willing to bet you have a few. In fact, you might think that some lives do matter less. Here are some examples:

• Mass shooters

• Rapists

• Child molesters

• Pedophiles

Unsurprisingly, these kinds of lives had a chance to be tried in court. They still are alive. They got tried by a jury of their peers, not a cop with a gun. They did more heinous crimes than jogging in their neighborhoods or eating ice cream or using counterfeit bills when Black. They actually had a fighting chance. I mean, they lost, but they got that chance. Ahmaud, George, Breonna, and so many more didn't. So why didn't they get to have a trial? Cops didn't protect them, even though we say that it's their jobs. In fact, cops murdered them. Clearly, we haven’t been treating Black lives with the same process as other lives. Why?

I'm going to say it clearly. All lives matter protects racist systems and racist beliefs.

When you say it, it’s approval for a system that justifies killing Black people. All lives matter masks your discomfort with the continued existence of racism and oppression. All lives matter is easy to say, a nice illusion. Behaving like all lives matter requires effort. It demands that you feel unsafe with the realities of the Black lived experience. When you feel safe, that illusion is hard to give up.

If you belong to a group that faced oppression now or in the past… Saying all lives matter is dismissive. Whether or not it’s your intent, It reduces your own community’s trauma and the Black community’s trauma. It gives power to systems that have always divided us when we need to unite against it. Our experiences with pain or suffering aren't always the same, but the system that caused it is. We don't matter to systems that can casually weaponize our communities' grief and trauma against each other.  This system wants us to fight over the leftovers. We need to build each other up so we can demand our fair share together. We need to be accountable to each other and for each other in ways this system is not.

Let’s review:

• Are Black lives are valuable?

• Are Black lives important?

• Do black lives matter?

Yes.

If you need to say "yes, but…" then your answer is really no. 

Black Lives Matter

Think back to the hardest thing you've EVER done in your life. Maybe it was:

• Interviewing for a job

• Presenting your company or product

• Asking your crush out on a date

• Competing in a finale

• Making the game winning shot

• Asking for a raise

It's different for all of us. You probably prepared, so you don't feel nervous. Or maybe with all the preparation, you're pretty confident. You're sweating, you're anxious. Maybe you have so much energy from the adrenaline you want to pace around or maybe you want to take a breather and go outside. In my last job interview, my armpits were SWEATY, so I paced around outside in between sessions. Everyone has different strategies for this.

Let's say, when it's all said and done, you mess up… It's ok. It may take a while, but there's going to be another job, another date, another game… it doesn't matter. Tomorrow's another day.

Now, imagine if the hardest thing you had to do was convince someone you have a life worth living.

The person you have to convince isn't God, but a complete stranger. This stranger doesn't know anything about you except what you look like, and at any point in time they can choose to end your life. They don't have to, but they have the power to. You don't know this stranger's experience. All you know is that you need to behave in the best way possible… And if you do everything just right, you get to keep breathing.

Could you imagine if you had to hold your breath in anxious anticipation every day?

This is the reality of the Black community. They have to be the right way every single day in every single encounter in every single one of those categories. The right performance is different for every stranger they meet, so they get less chances to make mistakes. In some cases, that stranger that gets to determine their lives?

Yeah, that person might have already made a decision before letting that Black person speak. In fact, many Black people get murdered without saying why their life is worth living. But why should they have to?

I believe in the dignity of a human life

I support #BlackLivesMatter because I believe in the dignity of human life. Period. But every time a Black person is killed, we argue their value or detriment to society.

• Was he a criminal?

• Was she a professional?

• Were drugs involved?

• Did they do the right things?

Why do we do this? All of these questions are ways to justify someone's death and in many cases, murder. Someone shouldn't have to do the "right" things just to live. ALIVE is the default option. We should be asking, why the fuck were they murdered? Why did we fail them? How did we get here?

We give pedophiles in church and politics second chances because they "contribute" to society. We let billionaires be defined by their bank accounts, but punish people living in poverty by their use of food stamps. We let White people be defined by their best intentions, but let Black people be defined by our worst intentions.

If you're thinking you need to protect yourself against Black people because they might be on drugs or a criminal or whatever dumb shit… Check yourself. This is a problem that we made. Systemic racism has created a society where we don't treat Black lives with dignity. It applies to healthcare, education, jobs, everything. And I know people are gonna argue and justify this. Trip over yourselves because I don't give a fuck what you say about the numbers.

How could you have prevented it?

Think about every reason that a Black person's death has been justified. Then, ask yourself how YOU could have prevented it:

• How can I prevent a Black person from turning to crime?

• How do I prevent a Black person from falling out of the school system?

• How do I prevent a Black person from being murdered in custody?

The answer should never be, I can't do anything. Because you can. You can vote for governments to increase taxes on billionaires so their money serves all communities. You can donate money to organizations that serve Black communities. You can vote to lessen police power. If you don't know a Black person, then ask yourself why you don't know a Black person? What needs to change so I can see more of them in the spaces I occupy?

Let’s start unraveling only some of the answers and excuses I’ve heard used to justify what’s been happening to the Black community for decades.

The answer to these questions isn't, it's their fault. Because it's not. People don't become criminals by choice. A criminal lifestyle is high risk, high reward, and high cost. This is a gamble people make when have no other choices. People don't fail out of school by choice. Of course people are going to fail if we allocate resources to school districts that are already succeeding. People won't try again because we look down on low-wage jobs or make it prohibitively expensive to skill up.

Well, they’re just like that. No. They aren’t. We perpetuate this system that enforces racist stereotypes and profiles. If you don't think Black people are protesting, you probably think they're rioting and looting. Guess what? That's your fault. You've let a system that tells EVERYONE IN THIS SOCIETY that things and stuff and property is more important than lives. So for opportunistic criminals taking advantage of peaceful protests, they either lose their lives to the system or death… Or come out with more stuff.

You don't like the protesting? That's your fault too. You placed the value of a flag or a sport over the value of a human life. You had the easy way with kneeling, but didn't like it until your stuff was in jeopardy. Black lives are in jeopardy every day. Because no matter how smart, how rich, how generous, how “good” a Black person is… You'll still be here trying to justify their murder or death. If your stuff is worth more than a human life, I GIVE you my pity.

Treat Black people dignity and respect

Many of us will never need to convince someone that our lives are worth living. That's a privilege. Many of us don't fear guns when we see them. Maybe we've handled them or maybe it's because we quietly know that they'll never be turned against us. For Black people, guns are a threat, regardless of who wields it. They know that they'll have to perform the right moves and the right steps to convince a stranger with a gun that their life is worth living. Yet, many don't have that chance.

Treating Black people with dignity and respect demands the same treatment and quality of choices that we expect for ourselves in every situation. In education, in opportunities, in healthcare, in jobs, in everything.

Basically, if it’s not good enough for you, then it’s NOT GOOD. PERIOD.

I know some privileged/superior/racist people are gonna say, well Black people should work harder. I worked hard and got here. They can too. And no, that's wrong. We should work harder. Giving Black people the same quality of choices available to the rest of us means there's “less” to share for the privileged. Good. You always say that if you want more you'll have to work harder. Fine. Make the same quality of opportunities available. When our society is more productive, there’s more to share with everyone. It’s that simple. Mad that I’m asking you to work harder? Well you probably worked hard to be this comfortable. You’re not lazy. You have the skills do it again. Pick yourself up by your bootstraps. I know you can.

What if they get more than me? I assure you they won't, because you've been stopping it for years. We're just trying to get to equal here. When wealth is shared amongst everyone, we can make more of it. Guess what? When we treat people with respect and actually provide good healthcare, and opportunities, and jobs, and everything, they won't want to loot your precious stuff.

America has never been great. We've been pretty good, but never great. Pretty good is actually our absolute worst, simply because we refuse to acknowledge and empower our fellow citizens: The Black community. 

Listen to Black people and act on it. This is the time. What needs to be done so they have the same treatment as you and the same quality of choices as you?

All those commandments, and laws, and rules that you value don't matter if you don’t understand the gravity of killing and losing a human life. If we don't fight for the value and dignity of a Black person’s life, we will lose our humanity. That's a far greater thing to lose than any amount of property or wealth in the world.

It’s your turn to hold your breath in anxious in anticipation. I'm asking you to do something difficult. I’m going to fuck up. You're going to fuck up. We’re going to make mistakes and the Black community might be hard on us. They also might not be. Because no matter how much we fuck up and mess up, our lives aren’t on the line. Theirs are.

There are no excuses. Do what you can. Educate yourself. Speak up. Donate. Protest.

Black Lives Matter.

View this post on Instagram

Hey Everyone - Nicole Gibbons here. I’m the Founder & CEO of Clare and I’m a black woman. For black people in America, this is an exceptionally heartbreaking time. I personally feel a profound sense of sadness and am struggling to process and make sense of where we are as a country and as a human race. Each time I see stories of racial injustice play out, it’s a painful reminder that the more things have changed, the more they’ve stayed the same. So many of you have reached out with words of support, asking what you can do to help. I’m sure you’ve seen tons of redundant “how to be anti-racist” posts by now, so on #blackouttuesday I wanted to share my voice and speak from the heart. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t have the perfect words but what I’d like to try and offer is perspective for those who want to help but aren’t sure where to begin. Let’s start with context: Systemic racism against black people has been pervasive in American society for centuries. From slavery to segregation to today where we continue to be marginalized, profiled, violated, assaulted and murdered with very little consequence — black people have been denied the same basic rights and privileges that white people have always enjoyed. It is a fact. It is also the reason why innocent black people are hunted and gunned down while out for a jog or sleeping in our beds, threatened while watching birds in the park, and strangled to death by the knees of those sworn to protect us. It is why all too often, justice for black victims is never served. This is why #blacklivesmatter Issues of race are often politicized but to me this is not a liberal vs conservative issue. This is a human rights issue and no matter where you stand on politics, anyone with basic human empathy and compassion should care. I’m grateful for those of you who care and for the outpouring of support we’ve received. There is so much to say but it’s impossible to distill it down to the character limits of an IG caption. For those wondering how to help — thank you — and swipe through for 8 simple and actionable things you can do to effect change💛

A post shared by Clare - Paint a home you love💛 (@clarepaint) on Jun 2, 2020 at 12:07pm PDT

Avatar: The Last Airbender and the Legend of Korra

Avatar: The Last Airbender recently hit Netflix, and unsurprisingly, it's a major hit. I finally watched it, in order, after years of only seeing the season one finale and series finale. The world-building is so strong, the characters are so charming, and it's just really fun to watch. Despite the underlying themes of genocide, war, and trauma, it was always balanced out by what's good and kind about the world. That, and Aang was so damn charming.

He's unlike many protagonists in a lot of the media I consume. Sure, he's probably the most powerful being in that world, but his first instinct isn't to be combative. He's compassionate and kind. He's also 12, so he's fun and playful too. Despite his unwavering optimism, he  has a lot of inner conflict. Some episodes focus on him reconciling his duty to the world with his own selfishness. What kid wants to save the world instead of spending time with the girl he likes? I mean, at 12 years old, he had had to make the decision on whether or not he would kill a man to save the world… Not an easy task to do.

I related so much to Aang's levity and cautious approach that I had the hardest time watching Korra, the next Avatar.

When the The Legend of Korra came out a few years ago, I tried watching it… And I was so bored and irritated. Korra was brash and headstrong, and she didn't care what anyone thought. She asserted her power as the Avatar constantly, and didn't consider the consequences of her actions. I felt like she was a characteristically "male" character in a female protagonist's body. I felt like I was being pandered to and upset that there was this person who wasn't me. I was looking for a strong female character that was different from male protagonists we usually see.

This week, I gave Korra another chance. The world building in the series is so strong, I wanted to see more of it. I tried to go in with an open mind, but I still had a strong disdain for Korra. She just didn't solve problems creatively, didn't listen, and won by brute force all the time. She was so rude to her friends and mentors, and I was just annoyed. I begrudgingly got through season one and kept watching.

The beginning of season two was the same. I could feel my chest fill with annoyance when she treated her friends poorly. I couldn't watch someone make thoughtless choices over and over again. Fortunately, the expansive world-building let me focus on other things. I watched this universe's history grow and other characters grow with it. My problems with Korra popped up again in season three, but I tolerated it better this go around… Mostly because I finally watched her lose.

<spoiler alert>

Korra almost died. By the end of season three, she finally understood what it's like to be powerless. At the start of season four, she was hesitant, coping with the feelings of being unneeded. What do you do when you've always won and had power, then have it taken from you? How do you reconcile who you thought you were and who you showed yourself to be? What do you do when your purpose is unclear? What do you do when the world moves on without you? She was finally grieving the loss of her mentors and her identity as the Avatar.

It took four seasons, but the Korra's story paid off. In the first three seasons, she dealt with problems the same way and didn't consider the cost to other people. She was brash, irrational, and didn't care about the long term consequences for her decisions. Korra clung so stubbornly to her title that she was inflexible. She won external battles but lost opportunities for internal growth. Her near-death experience and separation from her previous incarnations finally gave me a fuller and more holistic Korra. It took some time, but she became more thoughtful and compassionate. She understood that power doesn't win everything and was more empathetic to the humans behind conflict.

Understanding the Avatars’ journeys

It took a while, but I realized this. Korra isn't me, I'm not Korra, and that's ok. We don't deal with our problems the same way. While it's frustrating, it's ok too. She's also not Aang. Korra had different problems from him. The world she lived in was more complex; I don't think any of past Avatars could have helped her with that. She finally embraced her limitations and weaknesses and used it to grow. She also gained humility, learning that she doesn't have to be all solutions for all the conflicts in the world.

There were a lot of people who hated on Korra, solely because she isn't anything like Aang. But Aang didn't have to go through these challenges. He already rejected earthly titles and possessions; his challenge was embrace that his duty to the world and his own spiritual needs. Aang recognized his duty to the world doesn't negate to his spiritual needs; he needed and met both. These weren't Korra's challenges or her journey. She needed to learn that her way isn't the only, or best, way. With all her power and all her winning, she thought it was the same thing as being right. It wasn't. 

Korra reminded me that hard lessons take time. People don't always learn them the first time, I know I don’t. Mine just don't involve the fate of the known world. Making hard decisions and being compassionate takes practice… We had to watch Korra keep practicing, no matter how much it hurt to watch. 

Aang's story was perfect when I was younger and more innocent; where anything bad fades away to the golden feelings of youth. Then, the Avatar's story grew up with me. Korra reminded me that as we mature, the stakes are higher and there's more to lose. Our decisions don't always have safety nets, but hopefully, if we're open to change… we can learn and become better people. This series and franchise is excellent, and I highly recommend it to everyone. Just go in with an open mind.

11 months and counting

Recently, I was asked by a friend to help out some of her students in class. Her class this semester was about Food Literature and our relationships with food. The students read books like The Omnivore's Dilemma, which coincidentally was one I recommended to my friend years ago. The favor was to answer some questions about my own diet and relationship to food…

Anyway, I'm not really here to talk about what I do for my food and diet. My body has changed a lot in the past 10 years, but frankly, so have I. Talking to people 10 years younger than me was fascinating. Their concerns and pressures about their appearances were the same as mine were at that age. We shared concerns about what to do for college and how we dress. Honestly, some of those things I didn't really figure out, I sort of just fell into it. I’m also still trying to figure out a balance between atheleisure and dresses all day everyday. They also asked me about my job and how I got my job, my hobby, and sometimes I'm surprised I did.

I guess this was really more a reflection of what's happened in 10 years. I had my 10-year reunion last year. I'm turning 30 in less than a year. I'm changing the tagline on my blog home page haha. I haven't thought about what that's going to be yet. I still feel like I'm 24.

I used to think that you had to have your life figured out by 24. I mean, a lot of people do, my parents did, it was hard to think otherwise. You see lists like Forbes' 30 under 30 or articles about how people became a millionaire at 25 and just… So much around me told me that wasn’t true. When I listened to people’s stories, many of them were still finding themselves out of college. Some people didn't want use their degrees. Some people pivoted their lives completely. And I learned, all of those things were ok.

In the past 10 years, I've learned a lot about myself. I wish I kept a blog or journal more consistently just to see my progress. I've learned to be kinder to myself and let myself make mistakes. I learned that I needed to be clearer about what I wanted and needed from people. I also learned that my journey is separate from other people's journeys, and what was right for them wasn't always right for me.

I learned that I needed to do things my way.

It's not optional. I hate when people tell me what to do, and that really makes a difference in how I operate in my professional and private spaces. I remember when I was younger, I had teachers who told me to do my art a certain way. I understand maybe they were trying to get me to learn, but I didn't like it, and I fought them about it. Ha. I’ve learned that I’m feistier than I think. People didn't like me because of this. I learned that I wanted people to like me, but also that I didn't need them to. I'm lucky to have the friends and family that I do, because man, I'm hard to get to know.

Learning about myself was important because it helped me get what I wanted.

Recently, I've been hearing this term "manifesting" when talking about what you want. I guess some people could call it goal-setting too. Whatever you want to call it, the important thing is to know yourself. For me, knowing myself was essential to making the right decisions. I knew what to say no to, what to say yes to, what to push myself towards. I also figured out how I wanted to spend and protect my time. I didn't know these things in my early 20s, where what I wanted was vague. When I got older, I could speak words to what I wanted.

So yeah, I guess a lot has happened in 10 years. Talking to my friend's students just reminded me how young I was then and what that means for me now. I hope the students I spoke to remember that as they go on their own journeys’ too. It’s not easy, when there’s so much noise in the world. I hope find their own strength and joy within themselves. I want it for them, and I hope they’ll find it for themselves too.

73

Today, I wanted to reset the world.
Reset
restart
redo

today.

Anything I could have done so this wouldn’t have, and couldn’t have happened. Just like all the games I’ve ever watched or played. Foul? Rewind the clock. Lost a life? Just load a save. Made the wrong choice? Press a button and start again.

But I couldn’t do that today. No amount of wishing or praying or hoping could change this. I can’t rewind time to a few days ago or go to a save point or change my choices and hope to affect some kind of change.

This isn’t a game.

I felt the world get a little heavier and the sadness became more palpable… Whispers spread like wildfire taking flight and each of us coughing and crying…. Unable to distinguish the tears from grief or from the ashes clinging harshly in the air.

I knew as I felt the hushed sighs and the heard the silent tears that there is nothing I could do.

I did the only thing I knew. I pulled you closer and held you tighter. And as I stroked your hair, I hoped you knew that I’d hold this with weight with you too.

72

Hustle culture is the myth we're told grants us success. We need to worship the grind to get by and that's bullshit. It's the lie we’re told to keep us running in circles and spinning our tires to get barely an inch of success.

Instead of worshipping the grind and running in your wheel… Don’t take up the grind without the stone. Sharpen your tools and harden your skills. Get ahead by spending time in your head. Find purpose so your time isn't worthless and your work starts to make sense.

Believe in the hustle, but make purposeful, the grind.

Weathering with You

We watched Weathering with You last week. In the movie, we follow Hodaka as he navigates a rainy and gloomy Tokyo. He eventually meets Hina, a girl who has a mysterious ability to change the weather. The animations were beautiful, to be expected from the man who brought us Your Name in 2016.

 The movie was gorgeous. Tokyo was portrayed exactly as I experienced in November. It felt so real that I could almost pinpoint the exact neighborhoods even though I was grasping at their names. And yet, we left the movie unsure of how to feel… It was clearly a love story, yet I felt frustrated leaving the theater.  If you haven't heard of this movie yet, here's a trailer.

Spoiler alert

The movie I watched felt disconnected. I felt like I was watching two different stories.

 Through Hina's story, the rain was a metaphor for her grief. She found happiness through helping people, but it was unsustainable. It required that she give more and more of herself until she had nothing left. She was willing to do it though, since it meant a lot of people would be better off. When she chooses herself, she's essentially adapting to her grief. It'll always be there, but it doesn’t always have to consume her. It's ok to be a little selfish for your happiness. 

Hodaka's story seemed like one of selfishness and survival. In a city where everyone fends for themselves, he learned to adapt. He, and many other people, were looking at Hina to help them create happiness. When she chose to sacrifice himself, he reversed it, choosing his own happiness and "survival" over Tokyo's as a whole. The city pays for his choice, eventually succumbing to the rising ocean. Sometimes, you can't help that the world is crazy and the things you can control are a type of security. It's ok to be a little selfish for your happiness.

 One could say that Hodaka's story is a one of escapism. Instead of confronting his problems, he ran away, looking for easy fixes. He could have made sacrifices and lessened the burden on others, but chose not to. Those choices made everyone pay for the consequences. The world's crazy anyway, sure, but that doesn't mean we add to it and keep letting it be crazy… Especially if he could choose differently, even if it was difficult.

I've seen analyses of the movie talk about its allusions to climate change. Though on a larger scale, it felt like a story of clinging to some need or addiction or fixation so desperately… there's no choosing otherwise: Loving in spite of tragedy, the innocence of youth, and the desperate fight for what you believe in.

 I suppose when people are teenagers and growing up and becoming adults… You are selfish for your own happiness. It's part of the growth. I suppose in that sense, it is realistic. I guess… I walked away from that movie feeling like there were two different, but codependent, stories. I didn't love it… But it wasn't bad either.

Terror: Infamy

Finally watched the season finale of Terror. It’s an anthology where each season deals with different kinds of horror. This season followed a family through their wrongful imprisonment in an American concentration camp during WWII. I’m taking a page out of George Takei’s playbook, he refuses to call it Japanese internment camp because it’s not the Japanese who made them. He also was a consultant on this.

What’s fascinating to me is that there are people out there that don’t think that this season is as scary as the first season. I don’t really want to see or need to see the first season because scarier isn’t that important to me. The story is so beautifully intertwined between history and myth that it doesn't matter that it isn't true.

[spoiler alert]

Throughout the series, there’s a yūrei haunting this man, Chester, and his family around the start of the war. Everything that’s happening seems to revolve around him. It turns out, his parents… Aren’t really his parents. The yūrei following him around is his real mother and she wants to bring him home. Except home is the afterlife where she’s trying to build a paradise for her lost children.

Of course, this gets further complicated when he gets his girlfriend, Luz, pregnant and he chooses to prove his loyalty to America by decoding Japanese poems/tankas. They babies (twins!) are stillbirths, and the pair go through some horrible stuff. Then, as they try to protect the new baby the yūrei tries to take it again.

The second big twist is revealed at this point. The wonderful life that Chester’s mother had in America was meant for the yūrei, her sister Yuko. Yuko was pregnant when she arrived to America, and the man she was meant for no longer wanted her. She was living on the street and couldn’t support her children so she gave them up to be adopted. Of course, this incites new rage.

Chester’s father ends up sacrificing himself to save Chester and the new child from death. Chester, in turn, helps Yuko find peace in the afterlife. He tells that by taking his child, she’s robbing herself of the future. In that future, they could honor the choices  she made so that he could survive.

Duty and sacrifice

Looking back at the series now, duty and sacrifice two overarching themes throughout the series. Chester clashes with his father because he so often takes the easy way out. He wanted Luz to have an abortion, left Luz at the concentration camp when he served the US, and ran away to find Luz when he returned. His father wanted Chester to be a man and embrace his responsibilities, but not at the cost of his duty to his family.

Yuko tried to fulfill her duties, to her promised husband and her children. When her husband beat her and turned her away, she made a huge sacrifice. She gave up her children to ensure they had a life better than the one she could provide them. In her death, she unleashed her rage at the circumstances that made her unable to provide for her family.

In the final conflict, duty and sacrifice converge. When Chester and his child are put at his, his father protects them at the cost of his life. While he never would hear his kid say I'm sorry for the things I've said, he did what he needed to do he could save him. Chester is finally realizes his duty and promises Yuko that he'll honor the sacrifices she made. He also names his son Henry, in honor of his father.

At a talk I attended, George Takei said that this is a love story… And it was in the way I didn’t expect. These parents' journeys were stories of love. When Yuko found peace in the afterlife, it was before she left for America. In this moment in time, she was full of hopes and dreams for her children… And that's when she was happiest. Chester's father was similar. In a flashback and a visit, his father shares that he named his boat taro, for his firstborn son. He chose that name because holding Chester gave him the same feeling as the ocean: peace.

The real terror

The conflict was catalyzed long before Chester was born. His adopted mother chose to sacrifice her sister to avoid an awful situation. She knew how awful the man was and sent her sister to that hell anyway. She could have chosen any number of things, but she chose that. This is only a micro example of the real terror; what we're willing to do with each other. We saw it repeated in how Yuko was beaten by her husband, how the nuns treated her when she gave up her children, the heartless supervisor at the camp, the murder of one girl's brother… The list is endless. A particularly poignant scene is when George Takei's character dreams of a friend from childhood… But his friend is accompanied by his entire family, all of them killed in the Hiroshima bombing.

The story of Chester and his family is horrifying, but is only one story set against the backdrop of the concentration camps in America. How Americans were willing to treat other loyal Americans was horrifying, and even more so when you consider that it's being repeated today. The stories in our own lives may overshadow what's happening in the background, but that doesn't mean you should look away. Our actions have consequences, and we have a duty to do right by each other and be kind. Chester's adopted mother had to live with the consequences of her choice, and while she wasn't evil by any means, it just underscores the tragic realities for many at the time. While her loved ones found peace, she was haunted by her own choices for many years after.

This season was so clearly an immigrant story, and how willing we are to commit atrocities to people who aren’t like us. People who seem different, but aspire for the same things as we do. It was also one where we saw Chester embrace his own heritage and others that exist around his, like Luz’s own Mexican traditions. Though Yuko was terrifying and powerful, her desires were as human as the real horrors committed through the years of the show.

Redemption and remembrance

Despite the horrors our characters faced, there were small kindnesses too. Chester's teacher watched the family's car while they were interred, his commanding trusted in his abilities, Luz's family took him in despite his illegal presence in their house. Chester's forgiveness of his mothers' crimes, and even the conversation with his father, helped him find peace. It doesn't change the past, but it gives us a chance to learn and move forward.

The last scene ends with the Obon and a lantern floating to honor the dead. It's similar to setting up an ofrenda, and it's a beautiful way to see how cultures honor their ancestors. While we live with the consequences of the people before us, we're not doomed to their mistakes. Terror: Infamy was so much about the things we do to each other, but also a story of loss, redemption, and how our stories weave together in the past and future.

71

Do you venture beyond the city streets, to where the sea becomes the sky? Or to places where the mountains meet the dark and endless night?

The darkness there wraps you up and lights you up more brightly than the city ever could.

Each star a quiet invitation to trace each constellation with your wonderfilled and wonderful eyes.

When you find these places and see the twinkling sky, you'll see the stars shine coyly… just like when your eyes meet mine

Have you ever seen the bare night with curious, unwavering eyes? When you do, I hope that each star shines brightly for you.

Musings 29

When the controversy of TMT first came out, I was pro-TMT. I didn’t understand how deeply the controversy ran, and frankly, figured that there were tons of stuff that we should be worrying about instead of it.

I revisited my initial opinion about it… And a lot of those points still stand. What I've realized is that I looked at all of it wrong. Many of the problems I originally outlined continue to persist. It isn't that people don't care, it's because we've been fatigued by fighting against the status quo that it looks like complacency. Protecting Mauna Kea is a big deal. It's the culmination of a conflict that has been quietly brewing in the background.

We’ve been working with people who simply don't care.

TMT, the Ala Wai, the homelessness, the rising cost of living… These are all symptoms of a larger problem. The people who are in charge of making decisions have consistently placed Hawaii and its citizens’ welfare secondary to outside interests. I'm all for compromise and working together… Yet what I've seen from these people is a severe lack of concern towards its people. Not only to the protectors of Mauna Kea, but the homeless communities, and the people who've left the islands because of the insane expenses here. These decision makers are looking to make a profit where each of us bears the cost.

These “leaders” have consistently shown that they're not good stewards of the land and never have been.

This behavior has existed since the plantation days, and continues to persist in different forms. The forms today include “affordable” high-rises, rail, and continued gentrification without regard to the islands’ resources. It caters to those who don't have a deep and continued interested in seeing Hawaii thrive. I watched someone at an unrelated Q&A, ask his company's leaders about what's being done to honor the land. What are we doing to recognize the people who've preceded us? What are we doing to honor their relationship to the land? They handled it much better than Governor Ige.

The histories of indigenous and minority cultures have been systematically erased at various points in world history. I've seen few examples where leaders choose to recognize past atrocities and instead, continue to ignore and erase previous histories. We’re taught to believe that science and technology is the only way to go… But I don't believe that's true. There's so much about the natural world we don't know and understand. To insist that one way is wholly and inarguably better, is wrong.

I've since changed my stance on TMT. I don't think we should build it. I don't think we should move forward with anything until the state and its decision makers prove to be good stewards of the land. They should tangibly demonstrate their commitment to Hawaii and its people. They haven't, not yet. Hawaii has been more than generous and accomodating, yet these “leaders” have shown that they're willing to take until there's nothing left for anyone. Building another telescope on Mauna Kea is assertion of dominance by an outside interest. Again.

TMT wants create a community with the telescope, but one already exists. This community’s wealth isn’t measured in millions of dollars and IQs and degrees. It’s measured in the relationships of its people, the stories they share, and the deep respect they have for the land. I do believe culture and science and community and technology can coexist. However, it won't be done if these decision makers continue to ignore the Hawaiian people. They can try, but they can't erase them. There's no nice way to say it—It's disrespectful.

TMT can leave. Or it can choose to adapt in a way that honors Hawaii and work with its people to bring culture and science forward… As one. It's time for our “leaders” and outside interests to authentically invest in Hawaii and its future. Until then, no to TMT from me.