back in washington, dc

(i've been really bad at this whole blogging thing . . i used to blame that on the whole no internet thing . . but now i guess i can't blame anything but myself).

i arrive in dc on saturday, again.  packed, again.  5 hour plane ride, again.

however, the day and half before i left san diego was absolutely wonderful wonderful.

allen, cammille and i went to Morse High School's homecoming game.  The first Morse night time game I've ever been to.  Mrs. B says they've been having one a season.  You see, in the early 90s, there used to be a lot of drive bys at our football games and the neighborhood used to complain about the lights . . so we used to only have day time games.  

the game was fun.  it was almost like i was at some la jolla or torrey pines football game.  it was at night, there was a band (we didn't have that either back then), the seats were packed.

Also, it was really nice to see that our cheer squad was still completely women of color.

after the game, allen, pam, and darlene came over for spring rolls, beer, strawberry shortcake, and politically incorrect champagne.  we got stuffed and drunk all at the same time.  it was good times . . 

next day went to the temple with mama.  saw my grandparents.  grandpa wished me luck and while he was typing my wrists . . i cried like a baby.

it breaks my heart to think that he won't be with us for very long . . and here i go to the other side of the country again.

elections

i got into what almost seemed like a full blown argument with my sister today about the campaign.

it all started when the Obama campaign from Colorado called me to check in with me about my travel and housing plans.  Since I was staying with my sister, they asked if I would have access to a car.  In turn, I asked my sister if she would let me borrow her car to get around the city.

she went on to tell me how she didn't support my endeavors and that she wouldn't let me borrow her car and reaffirmed that she wasn't going to house any strange liberal obama supporter either.

hmm.  i guess this was a wake up call in many ways.

1. In regards to politics, my sister was a lot more conservative than I thought she was.  Because she is not a citizen, she's never really had to decide who and what to vote for.  We've always agreed on womyn's issues and always disagreed on immigration issues . . but she's never blatantly told me that she will not support me and endeavors.
2. In regards to lifestyle, my sister is relatively close-minded.  Since my siblings lived at home through out college, the idea of housing strangers, sleeping wherever it's free, etc. is weird for them.  Even though her housemate is queer, she works for a non-profit, and she attempts to be green . . i think this is more about convenience than about preference.

i guess it's a good thing i'm moving.  my siblings has proven to continuously scapegoat me, ridicule my politics and lifestyle, and discount my accomplishments and reasoning.

what a shame.  they seem to think that their college degrees and higher incomes make them any less the children of refugees than i am.

maybe my parents should have just stayed in laos.  i wonder how well my siblings would have been at raising water buffalo and growing rice.

family and community

i've been feeling sick this past weekend . . so i finished Dreams From My Father in just a few days.

it made me think about a lot of things.  

. . it made me regret not keeping a journal while i was in china and laos.

. . it made me scared at the idea of moving back to dc.

. . it made me excited to go to colorado to work on the campaign.

other than finishing the book, i would say i had a really good week with my parents and family in general.  in all honestly, it's been a while.

i guess the good week all started on tuesday when i went to temple with my mom and my grandma.  i hadn't been to the temple for something like this for over four years (since I went to college), which is sad seeing that i was raised by probably the most religious man in san diego's tai lue community and probably learned how to make paper flowers and candles for the temple before i properly learned how to talk.

it was nice.  we got there at around 8am and waited for everyone else to trickle in; except that never happened.  you see, san diego's tai lue community has dissipated into just a few homes.  some of our relatives from temecula came down . . which helped, but before we used to pack the vihan.  things didn't get crowded until about 11am when the lao community started to arrive.

while the morning was nice, it was also sad to see that the community i wanted to come home to was practically all gone.

regardless, it was still nice.  my grandma made fun of the way my skirt kept falling apart everytime i sat down (i still have not mastered the whole fold over skirt thing -- when i was a kid, my mom used to just sew in buttons so it would stay put).  my other grandmas kept giving me food and candy because they were scared i was hungry.  the hussle and bussle of trying to tuk-baht.  seeing my poor grandpa falling asleep in the corner on the other side of the room.  trying to massage my grandma's legs . . which at the age of 74 can't just sit for hours without stretching anymore.

this week was what i imagined being home would be like.  unfortunately, this wasn't the same i've been having the past month and a half . . and unfortunately, i may be leaving again relatively soon.

jobs

I was searching for jobs today and I found this Advocates position that had a really interesting Skills and Requirements.

"Recovering ex-offender preferred."

There are so few opportunities for recovering ex-offenders.  This kind of gives me hope that there is room for change and progress for people in our society.

bedtime stories.

one thing i really love about my partner is that he tells me bedtime stories at night before i go to sleep.

this one was really cute because he texted it to me.

Once upon a time there was this squirrel that took a nap cause he waited for someone to get back to him because he sent some nuts but never heard back from the other person.  So he wakes up from his nap and sends some more nuts out just to see if his partner got to them, but still no answer.  So finally, he sends out the last set of nuts along with a note saying, "i miss you and i hope you feel comfortable and are able to get some rest till you reach your destination.  I hope to hear from you again someday.  -love, mr. lonely squirrel."

Glimpse back into my past life.

i wrote a blog about my last day in dc and my first day back in san diego . . but it was saved on razzy and she has since gone crazy on me.

anyway.  today something really beautiful happened.

i've been back at home for over a week now and this week it has finally started to sink in that i was in fact, here.  in san diego.  sleeping in the same pepto bismol room.  with all my high school photos on the wall.  with my father dropping me off and picking me where i wanted to go.

For some reason, I was sent a facebook message about the immigration rally in sacramento.  Finally, a glimpse back into my past life.  I assumed it was from CHIRLA, since they work with RWG.  But I was all sad when my attempts to try to connect my high school friends to this great opportunity to meet organizers and be apart of social change were shot down.  

Because of time.  

Because of money.

Because of apathy.

I gave up on the idea.

However, while I was trying to set up a coffee to catch up with a friend who i met at the students of color conference, i found out that he was also planning on going to the immigration rally.  I told him about the money issue.

• Him: Oh, it's all free.  All you have to pay for is food.  Unless you want to freegan.
• Me: wtf is freegan?
• Him: You know, dig through the trash for food people throw away . .
• Me: you mean . . DUMPSTER DIVE?
• Him: Yeah, that.

MUAH-HAHAHA.

That was great.  I need to hang out with the people he hangs out with.

(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?