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Showing posts from 2014

Being Defensive

A few weeks ago my supervisor told me to "not be so defensive" as I attempted to explain to her what happened about a task after she had told me that I did it "all wrong." As you can imagine, I only felt more defensive even when I was trying to, yes, defend (or in my perspective, explain) myself. Being who I am I proceeded to process this "feedback" by role-playing the situation in one of my classes (oh yes I did) a nd seeing my therapist the next day. Lessons Learned: 1. A new appreciation for those who do the grunt work in offices. We should all be extra-nice to admin assistants. 2. I have been that much too critical voice and can be such a hard a** when things don't go my way. Time to be more gracious. 3. Don't stay at a job or in situations where you are disrespected or seen as a peon. As such they don't deserve your loyalty. 4. Some people may be (fill in the blank) and feel they have no reason to change but that doesn't

Just Sayin' Thank You

A few moments ago I was reading thank-you notes from students that had worked with over the years.  Some of these notes go back to graduate school in 1998 and others as recent as last year.  It was no surprise that I found myself tearing up and experiencing waves of gratitude for these students (and many, many others) who made my work so worthwhile and deeply rewarding. As I reflect on those notes, I'm reminded how often I don't realize how my work is making difference for anyone let alone the world.  But it does. And it's not so much heaping accolades on me; rather it's about recognizing who I am and what I do comes from a greater purpose that goes way beyond me. As a former boss said to me, "Save those thank you notes. You never know when you need them to be  motivated once again for what you do." And he was right.  It also reminds me how important it is to write those notes as they may make as much as a difference as they did for me only a moment ago.

Way Too Long

It has been way too long since my last blog posting, which I admit I snagged from my previous posting that I wrote for my job at Providence College.  Since last May I've made a couple of major decisions in my life - one of which was resigning from my full-time job at director for student multicultural activities and returning to graduate school and the other was sharing my space with a new apartment mate who also happens to be (at least for me) an off the chart extrovert.  Both decisions have been life-changing in many ways. I have to confess that I LOVE being back in school full-time.  What can I say? I love to read, study and write papers.  My introverted self is loving all of this as I get to spend lots of time by myself and delving into interesting topics.  Also I realized after having worked in diversity and social justice effort at PWIs (Primarily White Institutions) that I was emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted.  As much as diversity and social justice is so ve

Yes, I'm Irish!

Or rather an "Irish" wannabe! I say this because of my family (more about that in this blog) and when I was in college, I met more Irish-Americans than I have ever had in my life and was intrigued with their homegrown culture and perspective as US Americans of Irish descent. My only exposure to all things Irish was more of a stern warning from my mother to "stay out of Southie ," i.e. South Boston because me as a Chinese American would get promptly beat up or at least harassed. Although she didn't outright say it, she was concerned about the racism that was prevalent in Boston and was sincerely worried for the safety of me and my siblings. For us the slums or "urban" areas or "inner city" was in fact Chinatown in the heart of Beantown . The gangs were the Chinese boys clubs, and hearing about shootings or thuggery in the streets was par for the course even for my family that lived in White suburbia. That's because our family

It's a White World After All

In January I went to southern California for a family wedding and let's say there's nothing better than walking along the Pacific in shorts and a t-shirt in the middle of winter. Since we were close to Disneyland, my brother and I decided to take my young nieces for the day. As you can imagine the park was ridiculously packed and ended up only getting on five rides the entire time. Yet the most memorable ride for me is always "It's a Small World." It's memorable because it's frustrating (although understandable) as to how they try to depict the diversity of each culture and country. There's no way possible to escape stereotyping when you can only choose one or two elements to show a complex culture and people. I sincerely believe that most of us are smart enough to know that there's more to Alaska than igloos or Africa than thatched huts. But, unfortunately, I've heard international students tell me how they are asked questions

Silenced

In the past few days there has been the buzz for which film and which actors were going to win a golden globe and now we're off to the academy awards. Although I've seen most of the films that are predicted to be nominated , the one that struck me the most was " 12 Years A Slave " for its honest and brutal depiction of slavery in the United States. It also reaches deep into the what it would feel like to have no hope. at. all. In late November, I saw the film twice within a week with two different groups of students. Typically I would have a short discussion following a film but it was so raw, so overwhelming that the only thing one could do was be silent. And we were. And that's when I realized that the use of the "N" word could very well be silenced by watching this film. When one hears the word used in its fullness as a weapon of oppression over and over again, I can't help but think that one would never use the word knowing the ba

Sizing Down

No, this isn't about corporations and jobs. It's about my on-going annoyance with the fashion industry and sizes. Last weekend I went shopping to find a dress for my cousin's wedding. As I was going through the racks, I saw the size "0" and "00" and it was all I can do to keep from seething about the utter ridiculousness of clothing sizes in the US. When you think of it, a size "0" means nothing, and nothing means unsubstantial, non-existent and unimportant. This is particularly directed towards girls and women who already experience low self-esteem due to the images bombarding them from every media source. It's interesting to note the recent op-ed articles about " fat-shaming " and the kudos for Jennifer Lawrence who has been called "fat" and has refused to lose weight for her films. What makes it all the more interesting is that she is a size 6. Yes, a size 6 and she is considered fat by Hollywood sta

The Middle Kingdom and the Kingdom of God

Every Christmas season for the past twenty years I listen to a tape (now a CD) of voices that are long past remembering. Yet when I hear these voices I can't help remember vividly of spending Christmas in China aka the Middle Kingdom. Those voices are truly that of Christmas past but once heard again become very present in my mind and heart. The voices are that of Chinese college students sharing Christmas "warm wishes" and making every attempt to sing the "Twelve Days of Christmas." They never quite got the idea of singing in turn but by the end you couldn't have a found a more robust chorus of Christmas cheer in song and words. It's hard to fathom that those same college students are now closer to forty years old and probably have families of their own. What particularly struck me at that time and still does to this day is how Christmas in China couldn't have been more stark in its lack of the materialism that characterizes Christm

How to Say You're Sorry

Earlier this week it came to my attention that I used a slur against Canadians, which I will not repeat here. Since then I have removed it from my previous blog posting. Even though I googled the term to learn the meaning, I didn't take the time needed to get a fuller understanding of the word. Instead I simply read that it was a slang term and was used by a hockey team in Vancouver, Canada. If I had explored further I would have learned that it was a derogatory term especially for those of Canadian descent in the United States . It's also a term that is debated on the extent of its offensiveness. Yet like the "N" word, far be it that me as a non-Canadian should use it. What matters most (to me at least) that the word does indeed offend plenty of people and that's enough of a reason to apologize, ask forgiveness and learn from my faux-pas. I posted on the SMA Facebook page " a key to cultural competence is a willingness to learn and admit mis

What About Them Canadians?

O' Canada or rather Oh! Canada! or more specifically Oh! Toronto! It's both interesting and appalling to follow the story about Toronto's mayor, Rob Ford. Part of the intrigue for me is that I simply wasn't expecting a Canadian to act in this manner. This meaning not mild-mannered, civilized and understated. Yes, stereotypes were abound as I thought, "This can't be happening. Canadians don't do this." What's even more intriguing is that I have no idea where these stereotypes came from except I knew a couple of Canadians quite well from my teaching year in China, watched Canadian students play hockey at my alma mater, UMass Lowell, and hid my eyes when French Canadians frolicked in speedos on a New England beach. It makes me wonder if these very (or other) stereotypes has kept Mayor Ford from being arrested for his illegal activity. I have no idea what the laws are in Toronto but all I can say if that if he was a different kind of p

Gravity vs. Gravitas

A couple of months I went to see the film "Gravity" and experienced what it meant to be in a completely different world. Unlike my going to California for the first time and being dazzled (yes, true) by palm trees, I still had something to "hang my hat on" per se. I was still in the United States so even as different it felt to be in southern California, I still knew where to find a bathroom or ask for directions.  And as shocked as I was by the unfamiliar smells and sounds when I went to teach English in China, I was able to ground myself in the comfort of KFC or Pizza Hut in the midst of bustling Beijing. What "Gravity" did for me was to remind me that I may or in fact don't know how others live. Their world can be and is often so different than mine. And as much as we (and I) like to say we have things in common, sometimes that's often a way to downplay difference so we don't have to pay attention to it, care about it or recog

RI vs. MA

Red Sox. Yankees. The Green Monster. The Stadium. One hour to Boston. Three hours to NYC. I can't imagine two groups more different. Then how is it that two rivalries can co-exist somewhat peaceably in Rhode Island? Yes, I'm baffled too. Yet somehow it works in the Ocean State. Then again I see the glaring differences by just driving over the border from Pawtucket to Attleboro. In the Ocean state, drivers are polite. No, that isn't a typo. They actually let other cars in and out of traffic. And this goes for people crossing the street. In fact I even had one driver be upset with me for not taking advantage of him waving me across. If I tried this in the Bay state, my car would be back-ended for wanting to allow another car into traffic or would be crashed into if I tried to go into the traffic and presuming the on-going car would let me in. Being a resident in RI but with family in MA makes it an interesting process of going back and forth with the recogni

Ancient Chinese Secret

A few weeks ago I was having tea with someone and as usual when I mentioned my age I knew what was next. "I don't want to sound stereotypical but you look so much younger. Asians always look so young...." People, when you have to start your comment with "I don't want to sound..." you should probably stop talking and withhold your statement because you already know it's going to offend or at the least be annoying or for me, I just sigh. So I proceeded to counter his statement with "Well, I have oilier skin so it's like a natural moisturizer and keeps my skin more young" or "That's not really true as I know plenty of Asians when they reach 8o they look like they're 100." And on and on. Yet he continued to maintain that there was some genetic code, i.e. an "ancient Chinese secret" that must be keeping me wrinkle-free at the age of fifty. In truth what was he really saying? What are any of us reall

Girls2Women

I have to confess that I really hate it when people call women "girls." I reserve the use of the term for, well, actual girls meaning those under the age  of 16 years old. Although I perfectly understand why people continue to describe grown women as "girls," somehow it strikes me as a means to demean and diminish. Jane Elliott , a diversity trainer, famously said in her Blue-Eyed exercise to a young woman, " Get over cute, because you'll be cute until you are about 45. And then at 45, you won't be cute any more, you'll just be an old broad. There'll be whole bunch of 18 to 40 year olds there who are cuter than you are. And at that point, you'll say "I want that promotion". And somebody will say to you "Well, let's see, I don't think of you as qualified, I just think of you as cute". And then you're going to howl "sexism". Females, get over cute! Get competent! Get trained! Get capable!

I Really Don't Like It

As I've written in the past, I'm part of the Friarside Book Club at PC. This means I get to read three or four books and discuss them with a wonderful group of colleagues from all across campus. What's cool about book clubs is that I often find myself reading books that I would never choose to read on my own. It expands my horizons in good and meaningful ways. So what happens when I find myself really, really (and I mean really) not liking a book to the measure that I stop reading it after a couple of chapters? Well I initially felt guilty that I seemed unwilling (or rather unable?) to push through this book. What was worse is that the topic was about the Holocaust, which is of course important to know and understand. Honestly it was about the Holocaust and I couldn't get through it! But it wasn't the topic. It really wasn't. It was the writing. Oh, the writing...! I even thought of skipping out on the book club meeting because I felt so badly t

Talking Food and Talking People

A couple of weeks ago I went to see " Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2 ." I didn't see the first one so my 9 and 12 year old nieces for which they were the reason I saw the film explained the whole premise and what I should expect. What was fun is that they completely didn't expect the food to become real as in being able to move, talk and have feelings. Even the marshmallows had cute faces, and cute sounds coming from their marshmallow mouths. But this isn't about meatballs, marshmallows or the taco that became a monster. No, this is about how the audience became discernibly uncomfortable (or rather it was the parents and perhaps it was just me) when a middle-aged man began to laugh very loud and was noisy in a way that made it clear to us that he had "special needs." His elderly mom did her best to keep him quiet but... As I began to reflect in that moment how I felt, I realized how uncomfortable I was and how very much I was privil

Solidarity

This past summer I decided that I wanted to rename our annual Unity Week to Solidarity Week because I felt that most students felt that there was no issue with our unity. After all, aren't we the "Friar Family?" Yet not everyone feels that way and recent events from last semester and in the past week has proven this to be the case. As such I was struck how renaming Unity Week to Solidarity Week was rather timely. However we may stand regarding the cancellation of Dr. Corvino's lecture on gay marriage, I share the same hope as Fr. Cuddy who wrote in last week's The Cowl, "...So many of our brothers and sisters on campus are wounded. And those injuries are not limited to any one issue. Many experience the scourge of being misundersttod and unloved. many feel marginalized and dismissed by members of the community or by the College itself. Their suffering is real, and their need for authentic communion and companionship is pressing..." From

Being Surpised by the Catholic Church

For the past three weeks I've been having weekly meetings with Fr. Justin to talk about the faith of my youth, Catholicism, over a cup of Earl Grey tea. The other night while reading my book assignment (yes, Fr. Justin gives me homework), I came across the word "diversity" in the Catholic Catechism. I have to say it made me feel glad for what I do. Here it is from the Vatican website : "These differences belong to God's plan, who wills that each receive what he needs from others, and that those endowed with particular "talents" share the benefits with those who need them. These differences encourage and often oblige persons to practice generosity, kindness, and sharing of goods; they foster the mutual enrichment of cultures: I distribute the virtues quite diversely; I do not give all of them to each person, but some to one, some to others. . . . I shall give principally charity to one; justice to another; humility to this one, a livin

Hippie to Hipster

As I was writing my post about my summer of love, I thought it'd be cool to learn more about the actual gathering that happened in 1967. I found this on a website that was celebrating the 30th anniversary in 1997 : "We are here to make a better world. No amount of rationalization or blaming can preempt the moment of choice each of us brings to our situation here on this planet. The lesson of the 60's is that people who cared enough to do right could change history. We didn't end racism but we ended legal segregation. We ended the idea that you could send half-a-million soldiers around the world to fight a war that people do not support. We ended the idea that women are second-class citizens. We made the environment an issue that couldn't be avoided. The big battles that we won cannot be reversed. We were young, self-righteous, reckless, hypocritical, brave,silly, headstrong and scared half to death. And we were right."  ~ Abbie Hoffm

The Summer of Love

No, it was not a repeat of the 1967 gathering in San Francisco but rather an apt description of what I experienced this past summer. Yes, I fell in love. I fell in love with Buenos Aires , Argentina. I fell in love with a culture that elevates a mere cup of coffee to an experience of communion with friends and loved ones. It's not coffee, it's cafe au lait. I fell in love what must be the national pastry -- the medialuna. Then spread a layer of dulce de leche , and honestly, people, it's a taste of heaven. So what has this got to do with diversity? Well, it doesn't take long to discover how cosmopolitan the city and the people are due to the history of immigration and acculturation in Argentina . And of course there's always the difficult reality of colonization of one nation over another, and the impact on the indigenous population. In the midst of the complexity of such realities, I discovered how much I loved how they created a culture that broug

Who is Hispanic?

For the last few weeks and months, I've been hearing people use the word "Hispanic" to describe people racially when in fact it's a term to ascribe ethnicity or nationality. The truth is that I can be Hispanic as anyone else if I was born and/or raised in a country or context that is Spanish speaking. I know, it gets a little tricky and there's alot of debate about it within and outside the Hispanic community. But what seems more important is that when we say or think "Hispanic," what do we really mean? If we're honest with ourselves, we know exactly what we mean. Perhaps it's someone that's brown skinned, wears a sombrero, or works in a field. The stereotypes loom largely in our minds so that when we see people, we make presumptions and describe them as "Hispanic." In Mexico, there's a young boxer named Saul “Canelo” Alvarez. Based on his name and his origin, we would say, "He's Hispanic." Yet if

Disco to The Doors

When I was a first year student at University of Lowell now known as UMass Lowell , I had a roommate who not only told me she wasn't interested in being my friend, she also hated disco. From that moment on I knew that life in that room wasn't going to bode well. In fact we used to fight over the radio (yes, radio and yes, this was in 1981) and switch stations on the sly. For me it was Donna Summer, and Earth, Wind and Fire . For her it was The Doors and The Kinks . You'd think this was a hopeless cause with two roommates who had no common ground and had no interest in getting to know each other. Let me make the record clear though - she started this "family feud." Surprisingly over time I found myself listening to her music and even bought my own Kinks record (yes, it was 1981). And she was willing to put up with my blasting The Go-Go's singing "Our Lips are Sealed." So even though we never did end up being friends, we at least inc

Inspiration and Perspiration

Over a week ago I attended the National Conference on Race and Ethnicity in New Orleans . On the last day I attended a workshop called " The Writing Marathon " led by Dr. Richard Louth who happened to be from Cranston, RI. I surmised that he wasn't from New Orleans due to his accent and when I asked, he heartily affirmed that he was not only from New England but in the town over from Providence. During this workshop he took us to his favorite place to write and there we wrote under whirring ceiling fans and "old school" music from the jukebox. Dr. Louth told us that authors like Hemingway were inspired by the heat, humidity and, yes, diversity of the city of New Orleans or aka "NOLA." I have to admit that me and my colleagues were definitely inspired while we perspired in the warmth of an early June day. What I'm excited about is how much I was able to write and share of myself with, frankly, a group of strangers. By the end we fe

Familiar and Foreign

Last weekend I was in upstate New York and the lilacs were in bloom. I couldn't help but stop by a tree and inhale the subtle sweet scent that reminded me of childhood, early summer days and playing kick-the-can with my neighborhood friends. Smelling the lilac flowers evoked such a strong memory of a deep familiarity that it actually affected my feelings. Suddenly I felt comfortable, calm and at peace. It reminded me of how free and unencumbered I felt when I was eight years old. It's a reminder how important it is to have what's familiar to ground us so we may be able to navigate what is so foreign to us. An example is when I was in China and how happy I was to eat at a KFC simply because it was familiar and what I needed as I grappled with culture shock. In truth you wouldn't catch me eating instant mashed potatoes but in that moment of mental and emotional stress, it was as close as I could get to what felt like home. Another example is how stude

Will the US become South Africa?

I've heard many times that this nation is going to change its stance when it comes to racism when we reach 2050 and the demographics will change so that those who are White and Non-Hispanic will be less than fifty percent.But I'm not really convinced that'll happen when positions of power in the US whether in business, politics, education and religion continue to be White, Non-Hispanic and male. And why? A few years ago the president of the college I used to work at wrote an editorial stating essentially that the college was doing students of color a huge favor by teaching them to assimilate into the majority albeit White culture on campus and in US Society. When I met with him to talk more about what he wrote, he told me that it was simply a practical matter that the numerical minority become like the majority in order to succeed. I proceeded to ask him if that if he, a White male, were to become the minority in the US then would he be willing to learn a

The Other Direction

About three weeks ago I decided to start running again. Warm weather has a way of doing that. I just want to get outdoors, breathe fresh air and pound the pavement. I'm usually a walker but thought I'd try running again to speed up my metabolism and get more out of a 30 minute workout. So I run. Every day I run a different route to keep from being bored. One day I ran in the other direction of a typical route and guess what? Everything looked different. It really did. I found myself paying attention more and seeing things I had not seen before. And what's particularly nice about spring is that each day brings forth something new. Suddenly a bare tree is laden with fresh green leaves and pink flowers and you can see the happiness of creatures enjoying its abundance. So next time when you're faced with something or someone that's challenging, consider going in the other direction, i.e. engage in active listening, ask sincere questions and carry a humb

Hate It. Love It.

Last week the Friarside Readers came together to discuss The Shoemaker's Wife and found that the majority of the group didn't like the book all that much. What made me laugh is how expressive and descriptive some of the members were about how much they, yes, hated the book. As for me, I actually liked it very much as I was intrigued with the story of Italians immigrating to NYC. The book club reminded me that though we may seemingly be having the same experience, it's so very different for each person. And it's a reminder that in the midst of the majority there are different perspectives and feelings. I also can't help but think of how often we say so assuredly that Providence College is a place where community exists and thrives and that it's a place of home for all our students. The truth is that some feel like guests in a person's lovely home. Indeed they may use the guest towels, are taken care of and given tips on where to visit but in

College Students and Critical Thinking: An Oxymoron?

Since the Boston Marathon bombing there has been quite a bit of speculation about how the Tsarnaevs' Muslim faith ties into the devastation they committed last week. Last night I read an interesting article about the fact that the brothers' racial identity as being White has been difficult for some to accept. I won't go on about the article as you can read it for yourself and decide. What I want to comment on is that I'm hearing how a PC college student who is being taught to be a critical thinker and is entering into the vocation of teaching actually believes that all Muslims are suspect because of the Tsarnaevs. I'm not so much surprised as I am disappointed that this student and perhaps others are graduating with a lack of understanding about other perspectives as well as the seeming inability to critically think about world events, politics, etc. The unfortunate truth is that we forget too easily the lessons we learned from the past like 9-11 or

I Hope He's Not...

I recently posted an article from Salon, which I'm sure irritated or upset people. It was called " Let's Hope the Boston Marathon Bomber is a White American. " Yup, pretty upsetting. In fact it's upsetting to me too but perhaps in a different way than for most. It's upsetting because it speaks a truth that is too true. Rather than go into further analysis about the article, I'll share a couple of stories - mine and that of a friend. When Virgina Tech shooting happened, I confess that I immediately presumed he would be a White male student. Yes, I know. So wrong to jump to stereotypical conclusions. But be honest, didn't you do the same? Although as much as the news reinforces and reports on this demographic (White, male, etc.) as  school shooters, there is no warnings about dangerous White young men and how we should profile them on our campuses. It simply doesn't happen due to the racial realities in the United States. Add to it w

No Words

It's nearly impossible to put into words how I feel about what happened at the Boston Marathon yesterday . That's why I'm grateful for poets who can put into words what I'm unable to. So here it is... Kindness Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. How you ride and ride thinking the bus will never stop, the passengers eating maize and chicken will stare out the window forever. Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road. You must see how this could be you, how he too was someone who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive. Before you know kindness as the deepest thing

I Found Happiness

I've always considered myself as a "non-poetry" person. I simply didn't like poetry. And why? It was just too convoluted in getting across a message. I mean, just say it directly like a good New Englander. Then when I turned 40 years old a decade ago, I asked friends to give me a copy of their favorite book as a birthday present. That year I got to read genre of books that I would have never chosen to read such as Science Fiction or British humor. There were even some classics thrown in for good measure.  But there was one book that I got that when I ripped off the wrapping paper, I groaned inside and thought, "OMG, a book of poetry?" Argh. For awhile I let the book sit there as it waited its turn to be read. It waited and waited. It wasn't until my roommate who told me what a friend told her, "The reason you don't like poetry is that you haven't found your poet." My poet. Hmmm...an interesting thought that I would h

But Is It Art?

A couple of weeks ago I went to NYC for a weekend of fun and frolic in the "Big Apple." The last time I visited I didn't make my way to MOMA, the Museum of Modern Art . This go-around it was my highest priority to get there. As I entered into the foyer, I saw a woman in a glass box. Yes, a real woman as still as death completely enclosed in glass much like one would imagine for Sleeping Beauty. In this case there was no way of opening the box as far as I could tell. Just looking at her made me feel claustrophobic and made me wonder, "Why?" And maybe that's the point of art such as this. It's really a big question mark that causes me to re-consider my assumptions about, well, just everything. For years I wasn't a fan of modern or contemporary art . All I can think was, "What's the point?" But over time I discovered that sometimes it's trying to answer the question or maybe it IS the question. Anyway, I love it becau

Problems or Possibilities?

Since the commentary in the Cowl, I've thought about how people continue to frame diversity. It made me recall a professor that I knew who asked, “Can we see diversity more as possibilities than problems?” It was refreshing to be reminded of the inherent goodness and value of diversity. In truth  don’t believe anyone would really argue against the value of diversity. All we have to do is to walk around our own campus and anticipate the beauty of spring in the flora and fauna. Indeed, the possibilities are truly endless when we consider the breadth and depth of the diversity that surrounds us and is in us whether we "see" it or not.I Yet I’ll speak more directly about the most common definition for diversity, which is about race. The “problem” isn't diversity in itself; rather it’s about ascribed power and privilege based on race, the daily barrage of images and stories in our media, and the weight of our common history as citizens of this nation that co

This Tattoo

One of my favorite music artists is David Wilcox who has a way of words to express all of life whether it's a watershed birthday, about love's addiction or the Waffle House. You have to check him out to know what I mean. Anyway, he wrote this song about tattoos that always stayed with me. It's a reminder of not only the permanency of a tattoo but also of one's commitments. So, as a way to honor my mom and mark my 50th birthday, I decided to take the leap and get a tattoo. Yup, I did and it hurt like heck.  But what I love about my tattoo is that it has the double meaning of my mom's name and the spiritual reality of God's ultimate love. It's unmerited favor. It's Grace. This Tattoo With this tattoo you make a promise of who you are and what you think this will be your binding contract written down in blood and ink She had a life to live, the day she left home; She vowed no surrender, No company drone She wrote it down in crimson, s

Lovin' Pope Francis

Can you believe it? I'm not even Catholic and I honestly am loving the new pope. I couldn't help but think how cool and important it was for the cardinals to have voted for a pope from the global South. Come on, you have to admit how cool it is to have a pope who speaks Spanish and is Latino through and through. If there was any reason for becoming more culturally competent then one has to see what's happening in the largest Christian denomination in the world - the Catholic Church. What I so appreciate is how Pope Francis embodies the complexity that comes with cultural identity - he's of Italian descent and he's Argentinian. He speaks Spanish and loves soccer (!). Add to it is his sincere humility which he has exhibited with such authenticity and grace. Hmmm....I just might head over to Campus Ministry and sign up for the Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults .

How far does ______ go?

This past weekend I decided to treat myself to some time away to celebrate my 50th birthday. I decided to head as far south as one can go in Massachusetts - Provincetown . There is much that can be said about a very artsy town on a spit of sand surrounded by the Atlantic. First is the diversity that I encountered every morning at breakfast and as I walked around town. Clearly I was in the minority as a person of color, as a straight woman and as a single person. With all these identities, I have to say that being single was probably the hardest because most were staying at the sweet guesthouse, Carpe Diem , as couples. What was wonderful was that even in the midst of my feeling a bit out of place, others welcomed me whether inviting me out to have lunch at the " Squealing Pig" and was simply kind to me as we had conversations over eggs and muffins. One evening I went to the local tiny movie theatre to see a German film called Lore . Although I had some idea

"From Womb to Tomb..."

So says the profoundly wise Dr. Cornel West ! Two weeks ago I made the long trek north to Hamilton College to hear Dr. West give the annual Voices of Color lecture at one of the most prestigious liberal arts colleges in the United States. What I appreciated about him (and there are many things I appreciate about Dr. West) is how he challenged students to think deeply about the kind of people they want to be and to be reminded that life from "womb to tomb" must be one of compassion and love for one's neighbor. He was imploring all of us to get a grasp of the big picture and to really consider the ways in which we want to contribute to the world for good or for ill. Another is that he said that inside him reigns White supremacy (and male supremacy and so on). What he meant is that one being born and raised in the US, one can't help but believe that Whiteness is better, smarter, prettier, etc. It's what US society has reinforced through generations a

What My Mom Taught Me

On "Pi" Day I will not only be eating a slice of pie, I'll be celebrating my 50th birthday. I know, you're shocked. So am I. What I'm more shocked about is realizing that my mom at my age was sending off a daughter (me) to teach in China. I simply can't imagine that for myself yet she did it. What I loved (and still do) about my mom is the way she lived her life to the hilt. She faced every challenge with remarkable energy and openness. She was the person who always said hello to others while waiting in the check-out line at the grocery store. I used to hate it but guess what? I do that too. What she showed me day in and day out was her willingness to accept people for who they were and was always curious about their stories. My mom had friends of all races and ethnicities ranging from an off the wall Russian artist to Italian-American co-workers at the courthouse in Boston. In the midst of treating people with a common respect and accord, she

That 70s Show (kind of)

This morning I was going through memorabilia and found my elementary school 6th grade class photo. I don't recall much from that year except that my teacher had a cool name - Mrs. Partridge, and that I was one of three students of color in my class of twenty-five kids. We didn't use that term in the 1970's and frankly didn't think of myself as being particularly different. What bothered me more was that I felt like a giant compared to the other Chinese-American girl. Add to it she became a cheerleader in high school, which made it even worse. I just didn't feel like I fit in due to my size (the "fat" kid) and that I wasn't Jewish. Still, I wonder what my teacher and the other kids thought of me because I was ethnically and racially different. I don't recall any  special mention of different cultures in class assignments. Maybe it didn't matter yet we were only 10 years out from the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and one year away from

Justice = Bathrooms

A few years ago I read a book by Dr. Steve Robbins who is a diversity expert and trainer who used an interesting example to highlight the difference between equity and justice. He wrote the equity is making sure that there are the same number of bathroom stalls for men and women. Justice is having more stalls for women because it takes them more time to use the bathroom - at least in US American culture. What I often hear from people is that it's "not fair" (or not equal) to have affirmative action policies yet what do we say about ramps or parking spots for people for disabilities? Or seats on the "T" for the elderly, pregnant women or people with physical disabilities? How about vegetarian and vegan options at a restaurant? Peanut allergies anyone? All this to say that fair does not equal justice. Even the bible talks about God's command to the Israelites to leave behind grain for the poor to gather and eat or that the Apostle Paul should

A White Man Cares

Last week I had the opportunity to introduce Tim Wise to an audience of nearly 400 people. As part of my opening comments, I shared how I read his autobiography, White Like Me , and how much it meant to me that a White man cared about these issues. Apparently there were students who took issue with my comments as they presumed I was implicating that other White people, meaning them, did not care. The thing is that when I say this to, well, White folks who openly care about the same issues as I do, they get it right away with a look of understanding of "Yeah, we know." Yet I understand how I can be misunderstood. In US American White culture, it's about the individual. When I raise the topic of race and racism among White friends, the immediate response is "I'm not a racist!"  What's funny (not haha) is that the individualism doesn't apply to other groups. That is, all Black men are dangerous, all Asian Americans are smart and all Hispa

College or Comfort?

Whenever I meet a student I like to ask, " How did you decide to come to Providence College of all places ?" For many students they had a great financial aid package that made it affordable to attend PC and receive an excellent education. For others is that family members are alum so they were following in those illustrious footsteps. And again for others they were inspired or encouraged by a high school counselor, coach or one of our own admissions counselors to apply then attend. The most interesting response though is that after taking a tour is that s/he felt "comfortable" and that s/he wanted to be around others like him or her. What I'm curious about is the notion that college should be comfortable . Per the on-line Merriam-Webster dictionary, the definition for comfortable is the following: Affording or enjoying contentment and security, affording or enjoying physical comfort or free from vexation or doubt, free from stress or tension. We

Gumbo to Tibet

Gumbo and Tibet? What do they have to do with one another? Last week Tim Wise spoke at Providence College and he shared a somewhat long story about gumbo, and if you don't know what that is, it's a Cajun-style spicy chicken or seafood soup thickened typically with okra or rice. So I'm sitting in the audience and I'm thinking, "Okay, Tim what's the point of this gumbo story and why the heck is it taking so long to tell the story?" But I finally got it. Essentially it was a story about how our collective past intertwines with the present and could very well be our future if we don't attend to the consequences of the past today. What a mouthful. It made me think of a letter I wrote to the local paper in Santa Barbara in 2008 and I'll rewrite here in full. The title of it was "Shame by Association": After reading an article about Tibet and the protests in London, I thought, "Now I understand how Whites feel about sla

It Just Is

This past weekend I visited family in San Francisco and dear friends in Napa Valley and the Santa Cruz area.  Yes, people, I was in California enjoying the warmth and sunshine. Add to it fabulous food, conversation and an opportunity to cradle my three month old second cousin. Then there was the visit to Coppola Winery, which made me grateful for his transition from film maker to wine maker. Before taking a red eye flight to return to the East Coast, my friend and I had dinner at a chain restaurant that served terrific sliders and dumplings. Burgers and Chinese-style dumplings in one place - only in California! Even though California Pizza Kitchen in Providence does the same, well, it still has California in its name and is its origin. Beyond the food, I couldn't help but be struck by the racial and ethnic diversity that surrounded me. It seemed that every other table was Asian or Latino/Hispanic. What I love about San Francisco is that the diversity (and I mean a

Here We Go Again

On the night before Nemo, I casually picked up the copy of the Cowl. (By the way, it's a great paper and everyone should read it.) It wasn't until later that evening that I finally opened it and read the commentary titled, " Diversity; More than Skin Color ." As I read it, I thought, "Oh no, not again," and "Wow, she really used that word. Yikes!" After I allowed myself five minutes of exasperation, I began to think of how Lee Mun Wah , last year's orientation diversity speaker, would have addressed the situation. He would ask, "Tell me more about what you meant by..." and "What led you to write this now?" Instead of staying angry or feeling rejected, he would exhort me (all of us!) to take the time to listen and reflect before responding. He'd also tell us to breathe deeply and center ourselves on what's most important, which is not other people's opinions or perceptions of us. No matter what, he&#

Stuck in the Mud

Last week before Nemo (the storm) dumped nearly two feet of snow in Providence, I met with a group of colleagues from across campus to discuss our Friarside Readers (great name, huh?) book selection. We read Mudbound by Hillary Jordan which recounts the history of African American soldiers who fought in WWII for the US yet found no respect or honor when they returned to their own country. What I love about this group are two things: We read a variety of books that so happens to address many different aspects of diversity. In the past year we read The Horseboy about autism and Mongolia,  Caleb's Crossing about Native Americans and English foreigners on Martha's Vineyard, Mudbound about the South and African American soldiers and next it'll be The Shoemaker's Wife about Italians immigrating to NYC at the turn of the last century. We discuss with relative ease about the difficult topic and reality of race, racism, power and privilege. That is, we feel c

White Like Me?

No, I'm not describing a state of being or a hoped for reality. Rather I'm talking about this semester's book group, which is now called PC Perspectives. This afternoon our group of nearly 18 students joined together to discuss Tim Wise 's autobiography White Like Me . We started with intros and sharing our motivation to be part of this group. For most, it was a desire to discuss the salient and relevant issue and reality of race and racism in our nation and on our campus. One student who is from the Ivory Coast was particularly interested in understanding why race came to be in the USA and why it still mattered. More than anything this wonderfully diverse group of students wanted to be in a space to freely express their perspective without judgment or apology. Near the end of our discussion we broached the topic of "why aren't there any White male students here?" We all agreed that our society doesn't make it easy for a White man to e

Sssshhhh...Quiet

A few weeks ago, I watched the TED talk about the power of introverts . Susan Cain, the author of Quiet: The Power of Introverts , once again reminds us that diversity is broad and includes personality. What I'm particularly interested in is how being quiet is misconstrued as being passive or uninterested. In a society that values initiative, energetic personal expression and quick thinking, it's hard for us quiet ones to get a word in edgewise even when our words can be powerful and profound. Just give me some time to think then I'll speak in my own quiet and understated way. Then add to it my being Asian-American which people stereotype as being passive and lacking expression. Now, some of it does come from a cultural value that showing anger or sadness means lack of control, rudeness and embarrassment to self and others. This is what is often described as "losing face." So it's a double dilemma for me who is both Asian and an introvert, and

The Content of My Character vs. The Color of My Skin

Well, it has been a LONG two weeks since my last posting. Over a week ago I was battling the flu and it's always such a humbling experience to be so physically debilitated that I thought I was going to die. True, I actually had more than one passing thought of "I think I might die of this" because I was so sick. Well, clearly that didn't happen so on to my musing about MLK Day. So in just three days much of the United States will be honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. for his life of service and ministry towards racial and social justice. I often think of how my family could not be in the US without the Civil Rights Movement or at least wouldn't have a life of more equal opportunity. I sincerely believe that I stand on the shoulders of generations of people including children and college students who stood up against tyranny and injustice. This is my public "thank you" which of course is an understatement of profound proportion. Now abo