Loss

I don't experience loss that often but this year has brought me rolling waves. Rest in sweet peace Arlene. You were the first female to understand and love me for being the outcast and I love you. I feel guilty for being so close, but not close enough to hold you before you left. I will always remember your smiling face and your giggle, how you got me to shotgun, how you and I talked about our boos, how you and I were sisters in the beat of music....I promise to live life fully, to embrace what was taken from you. You have taught me that the present is a gift. Thank you.

Breakup with Music

Keeping my ear close to your bass lines,
Imagining purple hyacinths in adagio
Along pale breasts in goosebumps,
And whispering lover words,
I didn't sleep without you, Music.

As if there were no other chest you could live in,
The only space you found breath,
You looped my mind in choruses,
Versed me with depth—
Of your mother,
Of your father,
Of your revolution,
Of our future—
Clinging cobwebs
That made me believe
In the invisible,
In the wind,
In god,
In love…

Our lips
Are tectonic plates
Causing earthquakes
With every kiss.

I bought into your cover art,
Fighting fists at rest in my arms, and
Undeliverable promises:
Opening with moons
Falling out of orbit
If ever you missed a moment of my wake;
Next scene, you, on bended knee, say,
“We are destined
To intertwine together into a cosmic line,
Tracing back to the dusts of our universe;
We
are
creation.”

Yet you existed only in my sorrows; I cried
Into your rhythm and blues, neosoul,
Hip hop, electronica,
Secure in the stability of your measures,
Assured by your selfless heartbeat.

But this disease,
This codependency.
Is sucking the juice out of
Blackberries in Summer’s june.
I can’t be the lucky lady on your top 40 hit
Knowing I was never your lady at all.

I meditate on my pride.
I can’t suspend my sanity on your symphonies;
I can’t love you;
The way you want me to
Or the way you loved me
Because I don’t know how to:

How to breathe on my own
How to love my own
How to live on my own
How to grow my fruit
and eat it too.



In naked candlelight,

I orgasm staccatos
From my chest


And live there…

Without you.

Post-China/Post-APIA Summit/Post-SMLI 09 Reflections:

This weekend at SMLI while Dean Chemerinsky was presenting on free speech, I had déjà vu. For me, déjà vu is a sign that I am in the right place. When I dream, I enter a different plane of reality and when I am awake, I am in a different plane of reality. When I have déjà vu, it means these dimensions are crossing paths. This was a clue that I left for myself. I’ve been here before. So it was a big deal since I hadn’t experienced this way in a long time. What were the signs?

I was sitting next to Jesse Cheng, Sarah Bana was on the other side of him, Free Speech presentation going on right after the REACH workshops, True Colors posters on the wall behind the Dean, the 50 SMLIes attentively listening in Buckleberry Library.

Everything made sense! What I learned from the people at the APIA Summit was that we, people of color, can CREATE! At first, I thought I wanted to come back to the Bay after I graduate so I could work in non-profits and work with the people, write poetry because I can create valid histories of my family’s journey to America. But at this moment, I saw clearly how I do create. Not only can I create poetry, I create spaces in the world where people can come and learn about diversity issues and gain leadership skills, perspective, world views. My path is to create multicultural/leadership programs like SMLI, REACH, ALL-U, and Women of Color Initiative, and etc...This is how I give back. This is my pay it forward. To quote Justin Woo’s freewrite in Kelly Tsai’s workshop, “This is my work.” And to quote Sarah Bana’s favorite quote, “There is a loftier ambition than merely to stand high in the world. It is to stoop down and lift (hu)mankind a little higher.”-Henry Van Dyke. Bring them to my level and they bring me to theirs.

My fear is knowing where I want to go, knowing my potential and power. I am converting that fear energy into productive energy which will hopefully be apparent in my work. I take APIA/multicultural issues with me everywhere! APIA summiters, like Simone Jacobson, said to remember that when we go off to our own worlds, that we can bring the Summit with us and hold it in our hearts for the next 2 years until we meet again. What I remember is han, the sharing of trauma, joys, experiences, loves, and forging community. If you look into my heart, it is dripping with trauma--OUR traumas (good and bad), OUR stories. I see how I can make the change, BE the change. And again to quote Sarah Bana’s quote and the new theme of my blog, “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.”-Mahatma Gandhi.

Because I realized this fear, I looked into my palms to read where I was going. The hand I write with is the life I try to control, the other hand is used less so it shows the lines of my destiny. The life I try to create looks like this: long life that’s separate from my career; I will be in a relationship that might end in divorce with 3 kids; lastly, the money I make isn’t fabulous but I can spend a lot and save enough to live comfortably. Sounds like a mediocre American-dream type of life, right? My destiny looks like this: my life will be intertwined with my career which will make me a lot more money; I will spend a lot, save a lot, and give a lot of money back to the community; I never have a relationship, maybe dating and no kids (of my own at least).

My destiny is such a 180 flip of what I’ve tried to create my life to be. It’s funny though because I have always been in love with the thought of an ideal (wo)man, and in love with the thought of being romantically involved with someone, but I understand and accept that that may not be the path I am supposed to lead. It’s okay. I will accept my fate to give back and work hard and live my work. It sounds a little bit like Oprah, but I found out that she is one of the idealists via Jung and Myer-Briggs Personality test. I am really learning about my strengths as a leader and as much as I’m learning other people’s strengths, I am grateful to be the way I am. I am truly blue: emotional, relatable, affectionate, compassionate, idealist, peace-maker, etc. I am an INFJ (Introverted, Intuitive, High in Feeling, and Judgment). Admittedly a lot of my energy has been spent in romantic relationships, but now I am moving off of finding a relationship so I can put my energy into my work…my community…family…my first love.

China was fun, but it was one of the hardest experiences I have ever gone through because I watched the love of my life move onto a new girl in close proximity for ten days. For the first time I felt my heart break. For the first time the game played me. With the help of my women, faith, breath, time, and Tylenol I made my way to the end of the ten days and was happy to find myself back with my apia folks in the Bay, in the struggle. No lie, overcoming heart break is a lot harder than working through social issues. I don’t have time to write love poems!

(Hahaha that’s a lie. I’m about to post one after this post)

This upcoming year, I can feel myself grow more than change. There is a difference between growth and change. Growth is a lot more focused, grounded in who you are just expanding your principles and ideas to enhance who you are. Change is drastic and traumatic, constantly figuring out how to adjust the self, applying new ideas to form new principles. Sarah Bana said that from my first year to now, I have definitely changed more than I have grown. I didn’t see it before, but I believe it. Looking at my pictures from SMLI 06 to SMLI 09 is just crazy. I am excited to grow into my position, grow with my new principles, and grow with my community.

Thank you mentors who kept lifting me higher, continually believing in my potential, and thank you peoples who keep me grounded and real; you give me strength. I am here to serve you all.

You have influenced me a lot in the past few months and I am forever grateful!

Babysitting in Corona Del Mar

In recent news, I have been working as a babysitter for a family in Corona del Mar. I couldn’t ask for a more chill job, working with a 16 month old with some cool ass parents who make me food and provide boarding. As much as I’ve learned from this job about parenting styles, I am very aware of my role within the community.
As a back story: Knowing that financial aid doesn’t cover my summer expenses, I applied for this job spring quarter via an ad in the New University, but I didn’t hear back from her until July. This was perfect timing for me because people who just graduated were having a hard time looking for work so I felt very blessed to get this job out of the blue. These are the perks: I get paid cash without tax, I get fed home cooked meals by the mom, I have a room that I can crash at, and a living room with a huge ass TV, I go to the beach every day (seriously, I’ve scaled Corona del Mar), I get to hang out with this happy kid, and I am learning about my teaching style as a parent.

Let me add that at 21, I already feel tired taking care of one kid by myself. In other words, I don’t know if I want to have kids anymore. I am so grateful that I have a huge ass family that took care, played, and nurtured each other’s growth. I am very grateful to have this family teach me how to positively reinforce, affirm, and encourage play as a learning device for happiness. It’s crazy how I was trained to be that domestic housewife—cook, clean, laundry,--be 100% selfless, sacrificing, and slaving away for the family. Now, I can see that it doesn’t have to be that way; I can still have my own life outside of my kid. I understand that hiring a babysitter is a privilege, but I also see that having family around is a privilege. Having help is such a gift that I will take it in any form and would love to give it back. For me, my parents were either authoritative or way too lax, both styles are too extreme—traumatic and lack of presence. What is important to me now, though, is taking care of the inner child who had to experience those extremes. Seriously, I love my inner child and try not to spoil it (She is 5 years old btw), raising myself the way I wanted to be raised.

My latest analyses of my position: Something I’ve learned about having a baby is that people will be a million times friendlier, saying “Good morning” to the baby, but really I am saying “Good morning” back. People smile, laugh, stop and play with her, say she’s cute and gorgeous, and those comments help get the day started right. When these strangers say “Bye” I always hope that Ava has changed their day or life around just because she made them smile. I hope my inner child does that to people too.

You can basically call me a regular at the beach because I’m there every morning, doing the same routine with Ava. On our walks though I have encountered some very interesting regulars. The first man I met is named Leonard Bernard. He has blonde, beachy, curly hair, his olive-tanned muscles bulging out of a red, muscle tank top, and wearing black sunglasses to cover the age of his soul. He has been feeding these stray cats around the neighborhood for over 10 years now. What is interesting about him is that he is a self-published writer, selling his books online. He writes children’s books, poetry books like “Poems about the beach and girls,” and etc. He was really happy to hear that I was a Creative Writer, that I am a fellow poet. Why is he interesting? He is the first person I know who lives such a quirky lifestyle. He writes, lives next to the beach, and he feeds stray cats! What a life! Today (Thursday) he gave me one of his self-published and bound books. Not bad.

I met Ascension this morning. He was sitting on a bench looking out of square, gold-rimmed glasses toward the hazy grey where the horizon fogs into the ocean, his skin hard-wood floor brown with dark sun spots like knots. I sat on the bench next to him, getting Ava’s banana ready for her when he sparked up a conversation. He moved to California from Mexico 15 years ago, in a city in the sierra, where there were no schools, electricity, water, and etc. He got laid off from a company that makes multiple-choice scantrons; his first and last job here in America because they moved the company to Pennsylvania. He asked his family if they would move there so that he can work. His wife, also a babysitter in CDM, said, “No, Go by yourself.” His 18-year old son didn’t want to leave is girlfriend. This man, 65 years old, didn’t want to move to a colder area when he realizes that his body isn’t as resilient as it was 15 years ago, and of course, he didn’t want to leave his family. What does a person do in that situation? He has no choice but to wait, keep his body in shape, and hope that the future holds better things. He said to me that it was good I was in school because I am working hard towards the future.

After walking with Ava, I caught a glimpse of a flock of 30 pelicans flying in a ‘V.’ It was a pretty crazy sight to see. What made it even crazier was that the next day I saw probably the same flock but now with 42 birds! The meaning of life. 42

There is street sweeping on Mondays and Tuesdays. I got a ticket by a white woman with brown hair and blue eyes and asked if there was any way I could get it written off. She was in the midst of a conversation with the street sweeper, a tall black man with glasses and curly grey swabs and white hair. He said this to Ava, “You don’t see many people like me around, huh?” And I responded, thinking that he was implying racial critique, “Yeah, it’s unfortunate that there aren’t.” The woman was smiling but I felt her shift tensely. Ava and I walked away, but I still wonder if that’s what he meant, or whether he meant that there aren’t that many street sweepers around. Should I take off this critical race lens?

Part of the reason why I feel so aware of the race relations in CDM is partly my own presence as an Asian-American woman carrying around a hapa baby (Chinese-Italian American) in a predominantly white area. Granted, there are other hapas (a white mother with her obviously more “Asian looking” children), but it’s mostly white woman who workout together, pushing their strollers and children in pairs, congregating at the main grassy knoll. I am all for female empowerment and physical fitness, but when I came home and talked to Ava’s mom about what I saw, she responded, “Yeah I know. It’s not the right crowd.” So where do we go? Women of color, women with children of color, where is our grassy knoll of congregation?

Another thing about being here is the constant construction taking place on every block. The construction workers are all men of earthy-brown skin tones and the blue-print handling people are white men. They sit on the corner eating their lunches and I pass hoping to draw some connection to them, hoping they can see that I am brown too and we are servicing the wealthy. Fuck! This was a big reason why I never wanted to work at the restaurant again. I hated serving dishes to white, wealthy people, especially in North Berkeley. I didn’t like the way they talked differently to my mother. I didn’t like the way they tried to manipulate their orders into something negotiable, bargaining. Likewise, I passed a dark Latina woman pushing a blonde, blue-eyed boy in a push car and following the white older sister on her pink bike. We made eye contact, and I understood my place here. We, women of color, were replacing white mothers. I don’t want to say this is a form of exploitation because I don’t feel exploited, but I do feel something off about the situation.

After talking with Floyd at SMLI, I realized how hard it is to balance a kid and work. It is important for me to be there for my child’s development. It is also important for me to be there for my career. How can we provide more accessible and affordable resources for quality childcare for parents in the workplace? So many questions with no real answers yet….

APIA Summit: "Where You At"-Day 3 and 4

I will call this recognition of community.

I went to "A Song for Ourselves" a documentary about Chris Iijima. It hit me really deep because we can be political and still maintain a "normal" life. It's easy to be consumed in the community and our work as leaders, but it's important to balance out the stress so we don't get burnt out. A lot of us, if not all, teared up and you could feel the air sink deep into your chest. It hurts to lose someone close to you, especially a person who has fought for the same cause. It made me appreciate the life I have and the good, great, godly people around me. To me, even in his illness, he chose to put a positive lesson or outlook on it. Whatever struggle it was, he followed his heart. When a person can always see the good and the open door in front of them, that's a sign that they are good people. I know many of my mentors have been this way: ray ray, mike song, sherweez and mike knox, my mom, etc. strong, good people y'know? and it's good to build that community because you know that you are being taken care of. We've got your back Chris!

Having three hour lunches is cool because I can just float around with Summit folk and know that it will be okay, that i'm not alone, that sometimes two is company enough. I ate with Jesse at Chipotle and got to talk more to Kelly Tsai about Chicago-style pizza and philly cheesesteaks and she's just so chill...i want to be adopted by her! So cooool!

Afer group picture, I floated into the Body Electric: the Queer Erotic as Power workshop. Nate and Adrien are amazing facilitators. We did a pictionary game but with sex words such as: kissing, doggystyle, blowjob, condom, lick, and etc. That helped get our blood going and our minds working and our nervous giggles out of the way!
Next we did magnetic poetry. One word per piece of paper, associate words to "sex" then do the same thing with the word "erotic." we brok up into groups, two given the sex piles, and two given th erotic piles and composed spoken word pieces. this was ours:

sensual sensual sensual
i got a fruit fetish
nipples
dirty symmetry
69 ecstacy
exoctic excitement and experimental pleasure
is wet whips candlelight
intense awareness of summer raindrops on my skin
bold curves
bondage freedom active verbs
one-up
sensual sensual sensual

pretty cool amazing genius stuff!
after thaaat we talked about the word erotic and what we could associate with it. likewise with the word queer. from those associations we write a QUEER-KU (5-7-5). super cute. interestingly enough, i wrote one that had to do with the negative perspective of "queer." mine went like this:

I was told not to
Live, reclaim, or empower
my sacred spirit.

But everyone started reading theirs and it was all about empowerment and the fluidity of the soul and the universe and the erotic intimacies of queer. so i changed it to:

Listen to Daft Punk.
Live, reclaim, and empower
the throb of self-love.

after audre lorde and regie cabico, we got to free write and share our own feelings about the erotic and queer and what it means to us. What is your erotic?

It's kinda cool learning how to float. I know i've always tried to create my own sense of security by making plans here and there so that I don't have to face the fact that I am alone. Luckily for me I had KC and Huy with me. I was craving yogurt so I got yogurt park and they got their boba drinks. I still didn't feel right so I went to get a donut. How funny was it for me to run into my spop kids, Jeff and Olivia, in the Asian plaza right as i walked out of the donut shop! small world. the pull of my gut and the fate of life....i dunno man..is the future talking to me via gut messages? sugar cravings bringing me small surprises. thank you Life, it's all very sweet! I want to drift forever in the sea of summit folk.

And the summit blew me away with this commuity showcase! serious power and voice and energy and love. so muuuuch looove.

we went to matt's and huddle around a jug of carlo rossi and it was a good time. it was a better time when the bud and budlight showed up :) I had to leave just as the party started though, without even getting to say goodbye (sorry peoples) because my parents called and said thy were on telegraph. such good parents for waiting up for me and driving me around places.

i came home and my gramma looked at me, crying, telling me that she was very scared of me dranking (i will write a poem about this actually) and then i went to sleep.

point: community leading to day 4
we opened up with a free write: I came here looking for....and then another one: I'm leaving here....both my freewrites were whaaack. but we sat in a circle of charis and shared what we wanted to say about the summit. So much thanks for the organizers who made this space available to us. It's a very scary and vulnerable place to be, sharing your honest feelings, thoughts, and reflections, but it truly made an effect on me. Again, I wasn't sure if I was going to share but I felt like I needed to. I didn't want to get up for the mic so I waited for it to float my way. Fantastically, Nikki sitting next to me just handed it over. Perfect.

For me, the summit healed me, or at least showed me that it's okay to be broken because we all are in some way or the other. However, we don't let those breaks get us down. We are survivors, yeah...we all are survivors in this cruel fuckin' world and I was finally able to find voice and body united, harmonious, in sync, in the bay, at home, in me. The women's open mic showed me that we are women who go through the same insecurities and struggles, yet we can be sexy. And man, my erotic is seeing how immersed we are in our passions in the community, in our art, in our history, in our experiences. I was soaking wet sponge because there was was an ocean of voices, many voices, one mic. and the mic was on me. I have a place in this sea.

So I read:
My erotic lubes me with intellect
stimulating thoughts of pain and pleasure--
race riots and community movements--
sensual slips between the inner paradigms, thighs
I traffic temptation, wet secret drip:
our domes, nipples, hips, and toes.
we are filled
with the orgasm of collective struggle.
We fight to reclaim the depth of our universe. I
see you, live you, am you.
I embody
the erotic.

We positives and deltas and voted for Summit 2011 Minneapolis, Minnesota!!!!

and bbqed and open mic and just basked in berkeley sun and golden brown people each brown black bbq! Beautiful....so beautiful that it took hours to leave....it's hard saying goodbye and for me, it never is a goodbye, because the possibility of seeing one another will be what I look forward to! We make the Summit happen and maintaining the relationships we made this weekend outside of it shows us that the fire is still burning.....it's hot...it's real...my APIA Poet community is ALIVE and WELL!

See you all in 2 years (or soooooner)!!!

APIA Summit: Volume Control 3-Day 2

I woke up sad from last night's closure with Calvin. Yeah it's a lot to take in, but then going to the MCC at UCB in the mornings to hear some amazing talent get spit on the mic really makes me feel like we've got bigger and greater things to talk about and do

so fuck yeah I'm moving on!

Canary in the Coalmines-The canary is important to the coal miners because they can detect traces of cyanide before humans can so if they die then it's time to get the fuck out.

The poet as the canary: we are fortune tellers, hypersensitive, privileged not to work but we got a job to do so our people can stay on the grind, and at the same time our death may be the only thing to make them wake up. golden yellow black brown red and white; poets come in all colors like canaries. we are the voice underneath. we are the voice and we have the power and responsibility to use it.

For the writer not to speak is a form of suicide-Mark Mamuti (?)

Tell your story to crack open the world

Yes! I wanna share my story because the world needs to get deep!

Women's Open Mic:
I was drawn to this open mic because I wanted to closer to my females and feel the depth of our shared experiences.

Naked ghost holding me at night which is the only thing that can put me to sleep-Jerrica

Mactivist-Yvonne

Measured by grades or the numbers on a scale-Irene

Ther darker the berry, the sweeter the juice; The darker the berry, the more it gets used.-Azizah

Open our legs like newspapers in the morning. Origin story is the origin between our legs. -El Dia


Each of these pieces being read is living the experience with them in spirit and THAT is the difference between an artist and a performer.

I was self-conscious about getting my poetry out there so I wanted to work on gaining confidence. Kelly Zen-Yie Tsai from www.yellowgurl.com said, "Get over your selfishness and share your work because some one may need to hear it."

Thank you apia females and the safe welcoming space provided for our family to come in and story tell. Thank you men for being allies. Thank you all for bringing me back to my roots.

Chicken Wrap from in-n-out gyros in berk and buy 1 get 1 free blackberry bliss jamba for dinner. got to talk to fong about richmond and getting involved there. I am really feeling passionate about this work and this community. thailand sex workers, community involvement, to palestinian-isreali conflict to siblings to moving home to poetry. i fucking love this man! holla for my apia men who understand and aren't caught up. YES!

Volume Control 3: we can get loud in voice, in words, in tears
Kiwi, Denizen Kane, Skim, Bao Phi, Kelly Zen-Yie Tsai, Broken Halos, Erica Benton, El Dia, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna Samarasinha, Drizzletron

wow wow wow talent life i feel it. beauty i'm so grateful for everything and everyone. for the space...we are blessed. thank you organizers!

Afterparty at Blake's: socoandcoke. Lee and me. Dancing to hyphy hits and classics spun by mr phatty fantastic. it's not about the venue but the people you're dancing with.

it's real love. it's real family. i'm going in for the squeeze.

"Don't let the Universe regret you!" meditate on that.