(re)grouping to (re)leave.

since my last blog, a lot has happened.
mainly, i relearned what it meant to have a clashing of cultures.

ever since i got back from being abroad, i tried really hard to be good to my family.

understanding.
considerate.
cognizant of my parents struggles.

i went through my last year of college working with youth who didn't quite understand the rice farming villages or the sewage filled cities that there was a reason why their parents acted the way they did.

that they weren't crazy.
that they've been through a lot.
that as their children, we needed to try to understand where they were coming from.

i thought i had already worked through the riff between san diego and sipsonpana.

between 1st generation and 2nd generation.
between daughter and father.
between lue and lue-american.

however, i guess sometimes the too good to be true riff that i have somehow believed i'd built and looked forward to nurturing in san diego was just that. too good to be true.

my dad always told me that his kids were like birds. when their wings get strong, they fly away. but me, the youngest daughter was a little different. even though my wings were as strong, i always remembered to fly home because i lived abroad.

i knew the most about what it was like for them to flee three different countries and two different conflicts. i read it in books. i listened to stories; both in the states and in china, laos, and thailand. i asked questions. i asked too many questions. i asked all the questions no one else wanted to ask.

i validated their stories.
i asked about it.
i jotted it down in my little notebooks.
i wrote papers about it.
i got their stories published.
i validated their stories.

but instead of being proud of my little bridge, they smashed it. they wanted to bring it down. they wanted me to be american by going to an elite university.
they wanted me to be american by going back to see family left in Southeast Asian and telling them that, yes, we all assimilated and did "well."
they wanted me to be american by studying to go to law school.

but, they wanted me to be lue by coming home. they wanted me to come home so they can watch and monitor that i wasn't TOO american. that i wasn't galloping around the world or the country embarssing them.

my mom told me that yes, coming home meant that everything was free. free food. free rent. free utilities. but what does all that free stuff mean if i would not have freedom?