Top 3 Tantrums of My Adulthood (thus far)

 

Many of my friends have left lovely comments on Facebook and Instagram in response to my post about my mom's 80th birthday. Thank you, friends! But in posting a breezy birthday message and cute photos to go with the post, I feel like I was not being fully honest. So I'm here to reveal the humbling truth behind the pretty pictures. An hour before my parents arrived at my house for an outdoor family dinner, I had one of the biggest meltdowns of my life. It was pretty major. Here are the top three tantrums of my adulthood (thus far):

1) The Turkey in the Pantry Incident
This was in 2002. I was pregnant with my firstborn, starving, and looking to make a turkey sandwich. Nothing fancy. Just some deli turkey slices on whole wheat bread with some mustard. But alas, the turkey in the fridge was spoiled. People in the house knew this but did not discard the turkey! They left it there for some unsuspecting hungry person - me - to discover and deal with. I was furious and shrieked. I shrieked a lot. Everyone scurried as I shrieked. With no one around to hear my shrieking, I chucked the package of turkey into the pantry.

2) That One Time We Went to the AT&T Authorized Retailer
I don't really have to explain this one, do I? If you've been to an AT&T Authorized Retailer, chances are you have had your own bad experiences there. Mine happened a few years ago. I went in to inquire about a new smartphone, but while I as there, the salesperson talked me into a "free" tablet. But as you probably know, and I know now, nothing from AT&T is free. My husband and I were upset when we saw the charges that showed up on our bill so we went to the store together to resolve our billing questions, with our younger son in tow. The five-year-old sat and read a book while we asked to speak to a manager. My husband did most of the talking and everything was going well so I turned my back to talk to my child. That's when I heard the salesperson say, "Maybe your wife didn't understand..." Oh no he didn't. Honestly, I don't know what happened after he said that because I kind of blacked out. But my husband and younger son still chuckle about "that time mom lost her temper at the AT&T store."

3) My Mom's 80th Birthday
This one happened yesterday. We planned a small family get-together to celebrate my mom's 80th birthday - just me, my husband, our kids, and my parents. My sister's family would join from California via a video call. We agreed, confirmed, reconfirmed, and extra-confirmed that my parents would arrive at my house at 5:00PM. Even though we were going to eat outside, we prepared for my parents to come inside the house for a bit. My husband, the kids and I spent the day in a housecleaning frenzy, vacuuming, dusting and tidying. We decorated the living room and dining room with paper flowers. I was determined to have a perfect reunion with my parents for my mom's milestone birthday.

Earlier in the day I baked two yellow cake layers (from a box mix - don't be impressed) - but left out the eggs due to a food allergy. When it came time to stack the cakes, I lifted one layer and it broke in half. No! I tried to pick up the half that had fallen and it broke into multiple pieces. NO! I tried to pick up the other layer and that also broke into pieces. NOOOO! Without eggs, the cake didn't bind. My son, waiting to frost the cake, stood horrified, as I picked up the pieces and threw them at the wall. "WE DON'T NEED CAKE! WHO NEEDS CAKE? THROW THIS STUPID CAKE IN THE GARBAGE!" I swore. A lot. I fled the scene of the crime as my younger son desperately tried to frost the remaining cake crumbs.

"It's fine, Mom! You're overreacting," he called out to me. "We'll just tell people to close their eyes when they eat it. No one will care."

I sulked over the cake disaster. I had wanted to give my mom a double-layered chocolate frosted yellow cake. Two months ago, I had baked a cake for my dad's 80th birthday (also from a box mix, but with eggs that time) and I wanted my mom to have a cake too. For my dad's birthday, we stood outside in frosty February-in-Cleveland weather. But for my mom's celebration, we were blessed with a gorgeous day - 80 degrees for my mom's 80th birthday. All of us, except my younger son, have been vaccinated and we could finally be together in person. I just wanted everything to be perfect for our reunion.

My nerves were frayed and now I had to clean up the aftermath of the cake mess I made. I was anxious and taking it out on everybody in the house. The "cake" was a mess. The homemade pop-up card my older son made out of construction paper, with Chinese characters and English words, wasn't good enough - the Chinese characters were uneven. There were piles of paper and other stuff (all mine) still on the dining table. I was spinning out of control.

Suddenly, there was a knock at our door. My parents were here! A half hour early.

I wish I could say that I greeted them warmly. I didn't. I said, "It's not 5 o'clock! Why are you here so early?! We said 5 o'clock! It's only 4:30! I'm still cleaning! IT'S NOT 5 YET! I'M NOT READY!" My parents looked at each other and then my dad said, "It's okay. We can take Bailey for a walk while you get ready." He put a leash on our dog and they took him out for a stroll through our neighborhood.

I wish I could say that I had calmed down while my parents took our dog for a walk but I was still fuming. "But it's not 5 o'clock!" I wailed to my husband. My younger son cleared the dining table, carrying six loads (he counted) of my things upstairs to my bedroom.

"Yes, but you know they always show up early," my husband said. "And they were probably so excited to see us and couldn't wait to get here."

When my parents returned from walking the dog, my dad pulled me aside and said, "You can say what you need to say but you can do it with a softer tone. You could just say, 'Oh, you are early! I wasn't expecting you so soon.'" He was right and I was ashamed.

In the end, everyone pretended I didn't just throw an epic tantrum and we had a lovely meal together outside on our deck. No one commented on the pan of chocolate frosted cake crumbs and my mom happily blew out the candle I planted in the gooey mess. My dad helped me cut and serve "slices" of the "cake" and everyone ate their pile of crumbs. And my kids even asked for more, polishing off the cake pan.

I am sorry and embarrassed for being such a jerk on what should have been a purely joyous day. It's been a long year and I have to relearn how to be a human being.

Neighborhood Voices

I am honored and proud to be among the writers included in

Neighborhood Voices, a city-wide writing anthology project produced by Literary Cleveland and the Cleveland Public Library. 

For this anthology, I wrote a memoir piece, "Can Understand, Cannot Speak," about bussing tables at a Chinese restaurant in Midtown Cleveland. I was a high school student then and that experience galvanized me as an Asian American writer growing up in the Rust Belt. 

My story is just one of many in this project, which includes voices from all over Cleveland. The print version will be available later this year, but you can check out the online version now to read about finding fellowship at a Sunday barbecue in Mount Pleasant, shopping for produce at West Side Market alongside Dennis Kucinich, photographing the sights of University Circle, and imagining a future without violence in Glenville.

Snack Wheel

Maybe he’s going through a growth spurt. He is a 12-year-old boy, after all. Or maybe he’s like me and he’s eating his feelings. He’s bored, he says. This family is so boring. Nobody ever wants to do anything. He asks for more screen time to play online games with his friends.

His hunger is constant. He snacks several times a day. Sometimes, he’ll have cereal, depositing the empty bowl in the kitchen sink afterward with a few Cheerios stuck to the sides. Sometimes, he’ll grab a fruit cup and a spoon, leaving sticky syrupy residue on the dining table. Sometimes, he’ll shake a mound of tortilla chips onto a plate and microwave it for a few seconds to have a warm salty snack. Sometimes, he’ll dump a tin of tuna into a bowl and add a handful of black olives. Sometimes, he’ll mix the tuna with pickle relish and spread it onto Ritz crackers.

We’ve been self-quarantined for 29 days now, and I spend large chunks of each day in the kitchen, cooking meals at the stove, loading the dishwasher, handwashing the wok and cast iron skillet, cleaning spills from the countertops and floors, taking inventory of the refrigerator and pantry, and wiping everything down.

Along with the snacks he prepares for himself, the sixth-grader has devoured an assortment of food I’ve made for him since the statewide stay-at-home order: stuffed peppers, a berry pie, red lentil soup, toasted pita with hummus, fish sticks, sloppy joes, bowls of pasta and meat sauce, banana bread with raisins, two loaves of pumpkin bread, fried rice, potstickers, lentil vegetable soup, baked cod, couscous, baked apples. 

Tonight, during dinner, as he shoveled down spoonfuls of Spanish rice and ground beef, he turned to me and said, “What else can I eat? Could you make me a meatball sub?” He is always thinking about his next snack. He makes grocery wish lists: Lunchables, Oreos, Fruit Gushers, Capri Sun. 

The other day, hungry and bored (because his family is so boring), he made three meal wheels, one for snacks (bread, chips, crackers, pretzels, almonds), one for dips (salsa, jam, ketchup, mustard, marinara sauce) and one for drinks (water, milk, orange juice). Each wheel also includes “you decide!” as a possibility. 

Because he is always hungry, I am always thinking about food too. Tomorrow, we’re going to make Chinese dumplings together. We’ll sit at the dining table, filling flour wrappers with spoonfuls of ground chicken, ginger, soy sauce, and sesame oil. We’ll place them in the bamboo steamer and then lift them out with chopsticks when they’re finished cooking. 

The sixth-grader will be ready to eat. 

Read more stories on Raw Data: Living in the Fallout from the Coronavirus.

Welcome, goodbye

My essay on my family's immigration journey in The Plain Dealer

On our first day in the United States, my dad’s new boss at Case Western Reserve University welcomed us to Cleveland by taking us out for pizza at Geraci’s in University Heights. For our first American Thanksgiving, her family hosted us and served a feast of roast turkey and pumpkin pie.

Not all immigrants are greeted so warmly. Americans are divided now, as rhetoric of being a nation of immigrants has become talk of building a wall.

Our family’s journey to the United States began in the late ‘60s when my parents emigrated from Taiwan to Canada, where my dad attended graduate school and my sister and I were born. After my dad landed a position as a cancer researcher at CWRU, we packed up the car and drove five hours from Toronto to Cleveland. It was the summer after I finished first grade. 

Read my full essay on Cleveland.com

Sweet (and Sour) Sixteen

My son turned sixteen this week. I don’t know if I’d call it Sweet Sixteen. Maybe Sweet and Sour Sixteen. The teen years have been rough on us. There has been eye-rolling, glaring, muttering, yelling, swearing. We’ve had words. We’ve had silence.

This summer, he has mostly been away from home, at various camp programs. It has been a nice break for us, giving us both some space after a challenging school year full of conflict and tension. 

Read my essay on Medium.

"Fresh Off the Boat" features fresh faces - finally

"It's been a long time..." as Rakim and Timbaland would say.

It's been a long time indeed since I've seen people who look like me on prime time network TV.

Meet the Huang family from "Fresh Off the Boat"
Image credit: Center for Asian American Media

Tonight was a milestone moment for me in watching the premiere of "Fresh Off the Boat," a sitcom featuring the Huangs, an Asian American family finding their way in Florida.

The show is based on the memoir of Eddie Huang, a Taiwanese American celebrity chef and hip hop aficionado. Huang has expressed some criticism of the show, which I understand, yet I am still rooting for the show to be successful. I enjoyed reading his memoir and was looking forward to the show premiere, wondering how they would bring his story to life.

Image credit: Random House

It was more than 20 years ago that we last saw a prime time comedy featuring an Asian American cast. "All-American Girl" starred Korean American comedian and actress Margaret Cho but was short-lived, canceled after only one season. At the time it premiered, I was a journalism graduate student and the editor of the university's Asian American magazine. I contacted the producers of the show to learn more about it and received a press packet asserting that "extra measures were taken to ensure the show's authenticity, including the hiring of two Asian American writers."

Autumn 1994 cover of The Asian American Voice

I devoted the cover of our autumn 1994 issue to the premiere of the show and the university's Office of Asian American Student Services sponsored a viewing at a campus cultural center. Some students loved the show. Taehyun Kim, an undergraduate student then and now a mass communications professor, attended the viewing and expressed appreciation for the Korean dialogue on the show. "It was hysterical!" he said.

Others felt uneasy.

"It's hard for me to watch this," said Elayne Chou, a graduate student then who is now a psychologist and executive coach. "I have a lot invested in it."

One student questioned the name of the show: "I thought this was patronizing and placating. It's like saying to the mainstream - it's okay! We're just like you!"

Twenty years later, I am watching a show called "Fresh Off the Boat," which directly addresses cultural conflicts in its first two episodes. Young Eddie Huang, played by the talented Hudson Yang, wears a Notorious B.I.G. t-shirt to school and finds seemingly like-minded schoolmates to eat lunch with – until he opens his container of his mom's homemade noodles and is banished from the table. The show uses the word "chink" right off the bat. Wow.

So far, the show is covering a lot of familiar terrain for me - the hardworking Asian immigrant parents, the struggle to assimilate, the emphasis on academic achievement, the strange (but delicious) homemade lunches. Some of these experiences were quite painful for me growing up in the midwest, as one of a handful (if that) Asian American students in school. But I found myself laughing throughout the show. And I can't want to see more. 

Did you watch the show? What did you think of it?

Hello To All the Children of the World

Hello, bonjour, buenos dias!

Hello, Bonjour, Buenos Dias

G'Day, Gutentag, Konichiwa
Ciao, Shalom, Dobre Dyen, 
Hello to all the children of the world!

Last Friday, I chaired an event at my sons' school: the International Fair. It was a wonderful celebration of culture and community.

Several months ago, the school PTA president asked for volunteers to help plan the event this fall. I signed up, thinking I'd basically be organizing a giant potluck. (When you say International Fair, I say food: Fair! Food! Fair! Food!)

We moved to California last summer, so we are still relatively new to the neighborhood. At our former elementary school in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, we loved the Soul Food Dinner/Multicultural Night that was held every other year. Food was a huge part of the evening, as it was essentially a massive potluck dinner in the cafeteria, flanked by parent-hosted country booths. The soul food selections were always fantastic: fried chicken, mac-n-cheese casseroles, banana pudding, sweet potato pies. The other cultural dishes were wonderful too. Latkes always disappeared fast, along with potstickers.

So at our new school this year, I agreed to chair the International Fair. And then I learned that it was more than a potluck. I worked closely with two other moms to plan the event. Juggling home and work responsibilities, we met weekly for the past month and a half to develop and execute a plan that included recruiting volunteers, lining up food and merchandise vendors, scheduling entertainment and coordinating publicity. Before this event, I had not met these two women, but by Friday evening, we had bonded. For weeks, we dealt with lots of logistical details together. Unexpected problems cropped up. Volunteers dropped out, food trucks broke down, performers needed special accommodations. We worked with some wonderful people along the way: committed parent volunteers and a supportive school staff, including our principal, Amanda Boyce.

It had been years since the school last hosted an International Fair and in the past, the event had been held as a schoolday event only for students. This year, we hosted the event on a Friday evening and opened it to families and the larger community. With these changes, we didn't know if people would respond favorably. An hour and a half before the event opened, I stood alone on the school blacktop starting to worry. What if the food trucks don't come? What if the DJ doesn't come? What if no one comes?

Then, the first food vendor arrived: the charming El Sur food truck. They showed up early to begin baking their incredible Argentinian empanadas. When they rolled up, I was so excited I shrieked and ran up to them like they were the Ice Cream Man. I directed them and the other food trucks to park in a way that anchored a food court area. Then, the custodian arrived and set up tables and chairs, helping everyone all evening. Merchandise vendors came and set up clothing, jewelry and henna stands. Parent and teacher volunteers trickled in and set up various country displays.

Everything was coming together and I happily ticked off items on my checklists. I was starting to breathe normally again. When the DJ arrived and successfully hooked up his equipment, I felt even more relieved. And then when the martial arts team showed up, looking not unlike the Cobra Kai team from The Karate Kid, I knew everything was going to be OK. (Seriously, I expected their leader, at any moment, to say, ominously, "Sweep the leg.")

Families strolled in, many dressed in clothing from their native countries: China, India, Iran, Ireland, Japan, Korea, Phillipines, Romania and more. They practiced slapshots at the Canada booth, folded origami hats at the Japan booth, tried tinikling at the Phillipines booth. They sampled street food from the food trucks and the Indian chaat vendor.

Everyone swarmed the dance and music performances. One of my fellow event coordinators, a dance teacher among other roles, choreographed and led a delightful kindergarten performance that attracted a large mob of overbearing kinder parents (me being one of them). In all the time I worked to plan this evening, I had forgotten that my own younger son would be performing. When he and all the other kinders sang "Hello to all the children of the world", everything about the evening came together. All the logistical details swarming in my head fell away and I just listened to these adorable youngsters singing to celebrate our international community.

It was a memorable night.

Food Truck Facts

This past weekend, I chaired the International Fair at my sons' school and enlisted some area food trucks to participate:

El Sur's menu.
Photo credit: I Left My Cart in San Francisco

1) El Sur

The charming, elegant El Sur food truck showed up 90 minutes before the start of the event to begin baking their incredible Argentinian empanadas. Based on their recommendation, I sampled the Traditional (hand-cut beef, onions, pimenton, hard boiled egg, olives, oregano) and Parisien (chopped prosciutto and country ham, scallions, chives, five cheeses) varieties. They were amazing - savory, melty and complex. El Sur also offered dulce de leche-filled churros, but I didn't sample that. Here's a review of El Sur from I Left My Cart in San Francisco.

MoBowl.
Photo credit: Silicon Valley Food Trucks

2) MoBowl

I love these guys! They've been at our school events before and they are always a hit. For our family, I ordered the Five-Spice Pulled Pork rice bowl and the Umami Tofu brown rice bowl to share. The person behind me ordered Cheesecake Egg Rolls. Here's a review of MoBowl from
Silicon Valley Food Trucks.

Dosa Republic.
Photo credit: Dosa Republic

3) Dosa Republic
These guys are awesome. Like MoBowl, these guys have been to our school events before. I was too full to order any food from them but next time, I think I'd like to try their Old Delhi Lamb dosa made with Bombay potatoes, egg and halal lamb. Here's a review of Dosa Republic from K
KQED's Bay Area Bites.

In planning the event, I learned a few things about food truck operators:

1) They are business-savvy. 

Successful food truck operators have carved out a distinctive niche for their offerings (e.g. cheesecake egg rolls) and need to make strategic decisions about when and where to show up. Before committing to your event and location, they need to know how many people are expected, what food preferences there may be and what other food options will be available.

2) They are social media-savvy. 

The most popular trucks have well-designed websites with full menu info, photos and contact information. They are active on Facebook and Twitter. 

3) They are community-minded. 

The food truck operators I contacted were happy to help our school when I told them we required at least a 10% donation of their sales to our school PTA. One vendor even offered 20%.

4) They have technical difficulties sometimes.

One of the vendors we scheduled almost didn't make it to our event; it had to be towed from San Francisco two days earlier. Another truck had problems with its cooling unit and wasn't able to clear health code inspection in time for our event. 

5) They are flexible and creative.

I supposed it's the nature of the business, but the food truck operators I spoke to were very accommodating. Knowing that the event I was planning was taking place at an elementary school, they each offered kid-friendly menu options.

No International Fair is complete without great food, so I'm so glad that El Sur, MoBowl and Dosa participated in our event. I'm already looking forward to the next one!

Food truck obsession: it all started with the Ice Cream Man

The original food truck. 
Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

I am a little obsessed with food trucks these days. 

For me, it all started 30-something years ago with the original version: the ice cream truck. The first time I experienced the ice cream truck was the summer before second grade, after my family moved from Canada to the United States. One hot, humid afternoon, a truck came ambling down our street. Music blared - I think it was "Turkey in the Straw". My buddy Audrey grabbed my arm. "It's the ice cream man! Come on, let's go!" She saw the confused look on my face and directed me on what to do: go home, collect all the loose change in the house, beg parents for money if needed and then rush back to the tree lawn to wait for the truck to come by.

I did as instructed and met Audrey on the street curb. When the truck stopped in front of us, I was overwhelmed. Photos of various frozen treats plastered the entire side of the truck. It took all summer for me to sample the various options and determine my favorites: the orange sherbet Push Up, the Strawberry Shortcake bar, the Fudgsicle, the orange Creamsicle and the peanut-crusted Drumstick. (OK, I guess that isn't much of a short list.)

Anyhow, my cheap Asian immigrant parents were not fans of the Ice Cream Truck and tried to dissuade me from developing this new American summer addiction. They bought cheap tubs of Neapolitan ice cream (Three flavors for the price of one! On sale!) from the supermarket and hoped that would cure me. What they didn't understand was that it was the whole Ice Cream Truck Experience that was appealing, not the ice cream itself. The variety. The immediacy. My addiction got worse. Bolting up every time I heard the truck music, I had become one of Pavlov's dogs. My mom refused to give me any money to support my habit. Audrey and I started setting up lemonade stands. We sold greeting cards. We sold pens. We sold our toys. 

Once, on a family trip to Taiwan, I heard a truck blaring music from loudspeakers. "ICE CREAM!" I squealed and leapt toward the door of my grandparents' house. My parents shook their heads. "It's the garbage man," my dad said.

Flash forward. Two years ago, my fabulous foodie friend Gina P. told me about a food truck making a stop near our workplace in Cleveland: Dim and Den Sum. She invited me to meet her there for lunch. Dim sum + food truck + lunch with a friend = no brainer. The Asian fusion selections were yummy and I went back to work happy. 

Then last year, we moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, home to a thriving Food Truck movement. At my son's elementary school back-to-school picnic, I was surprised and thrilled to see several food trucks parked on the school grounds. Options included Indian dosa, Chinese rice bowls, Mexican burritos and Kara's Cupcakes. A food truck frenzy! Heaven.

This past weekend, I organized an International Fair event at my sons' school and went with the food truck model. Researching and contacting food trucks in the area, I gained considerable knowledge of area food trucks. For the past six weeks leading up to the event, I often had dreams of them. In one dream, I opened up a Taiwanese food truck called BoPoMoFo (a phonetic Chinese pronunciation alphabet) that offered Taiwanese street food (specializing in bubble teas and steamed sticky rice in banana leaves).

Now I'm obsessed with food trucks more than ever.

Hungry Ghost exhibit opening reception in San Francisco tonight

Tonight is the opening reception for the art exhibit I have been producing with the Asian American Women Artists Association. 

Opening Reception:

Thursday, April 26, 2012, 5 - 8:30 PM

Exhibition Dates:

Monday, April 23 - Friday, June 8, 2012

Location:

Thoreau Center for Sustainability

The Presidio, Building 1014

Tourney Avenue

San Francisco, CA 94129

Join us for the opening reception of Hungry Ghost: Yearning for Fulfillment, a dynamic exhibition featuring the work of 38 visual and literary artists. The Hungry Ghost, a concept based in Buddhist and Taoist beliefs, is a lost soul that roams burdened by unmet needs. Driven by insatiable greed and intense desires, the Hungry Ghost wanders, searches and feeds. Hungry Ghost: Yearning for Fulfillment asks Asian American women artists to interpret and illuminate this powerful, culturally rich metaphor. They address the questions: How do we crave acceptance and fulfillment? What feeds us?

These artists responded through essays, illustrations, mixed media installations, paintings, photography, poetry and sculpture. Their works express themes of food and family, identity and isolation, consumption and compulsion.

Hungry Ghost: Asian American women artists visual and literary arts exhibition

The art exhibition I am curating opens in less than three weeks! 

Asian American Women Artist Association's Emerging Curators Program presents Hungry Ghost: Yearning for Fulfillment a visual and literary art exhibition featuring 38 artists curated by Lisa Chiu Opening Reception: Thursday, April 26, 2012, 5 - 8:30 PM Exhibition Dates:  Monday, April 23 – Saturday, June 9, 2012 Location:  Thoreau Center of Sustainability The Presidio, Building 1014, Tourney Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94129 Join us for the opening reception of Hungry Ghost: Yearning for Fulfillment, a dynamic exhibition featuring the work of 38 visual and literary artists. The Hungry Ghost, a concept based in Buddhist and Taoist beliefs, is a lost soul that roams burdened by unmet needs. Driven by insatiable greed and intense desires, the Hungry Ghost wanders, searches and feeds. Hungry Ghost: Yearning for Fulfillment asks Asian American women artists to interpret and illuminate this powerful, culturally rich metaphor. They address the questions: How do we crave acceptance and fulfillment? What feeds us? These artists responded through essays, illustrations, mixed media installations, paintings, photography, poetry and sculpture. Their works express themes of food and family, identity and isolation, consumption and compulsion.  The Artists: Octavia Baker • Mitsuko Brooks • Jennifer Cheng • Karen Chew • Linn Chiu • Wei Ming Dariotis • Ganga Dharmappa • Stephanie Han • Khay Hembrador • Julie Huynh • Jaimee Itagaki •  Zilka Joseph •  Rosie Kar • Leslie Kitashima • Susan Kitazawa • Julia Kuo • Amy Lam • Lucy Liew  •  Elaine Gin Louie • Grace Hwang Lynch • Wei Ma • Mia Nakano • Choppy Oshiro • Cat Chiu Phillips • Michelle Salnaitis • Linda Shiue • Leah Silvieus • Sokunthary Svay • Elizabeth Travelslight • Cynthia Tom • Vivian Truong • Solongo Tseekhuu • Cat U-Thasoonthorn • Nancy Uyemura • Susan Lien Whigham • Pamela Ybanez • Stephanie Yu • Leslie Zeitler The Curator: Lisa Chiu is a Taiwanese American writer and food fanatic. Her interest in curation stems from a desire to cultivate creative opportunities that foster cultural awareness. She conceived Hungry Ghost as a forum to amplify Asian American women’s voices and showcase their art. Asian American Women Artists Association (AAWAA): AAWAA is a nonprofit arts organization dedicated to ensuring the visibility and documentation of Asian American women in the arts. Through exhibitions, publications, and educational programs, we offer thought-provoking perspectives that challenge societal assumptions and promote dialogue. www.aawaa.net Emerging Curators Program: AAWAA’s Emerging Curators Program provides a platform for aspiring curators residing in the San Francisco Bay Area to develop their vision and encourage curatorial expertise in the Asian American community. Presenting Organizations: Thoreau Center For Sustainability  Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Center For more information, contact info@aawaa.net

Call for Entries: Asian American women artists visual and literary arts exhibition

Spread the word!
Submission Deadline: Tuesday, March 6, 2012, 11:59 PM PST

Note: This is a revised announcement, current as of Tuesday, February 28, 2012

CALL FOR ENTRIES Hungry Ghost Yearning for Fulfillment A Visual and Literary Art Exhibition, at Thoreau Center for Sustainability Curated by Lisa Chiu Submission Deadline: Tuesday, March 6, 2012 11:59 PM Notification of acceptance will be on or before March 14, 2012 Proposals, including size and sketches, will be considered. Please send samples of your current work. Exhibition Premise: The Hungry Ghost, a concept based in Buddhist and Taoist beliefs, is a lost soul that roams burdened by unmet needs. Driven by insatiable greed and intense desires, the Hungry Ghost wanders, searches and feeds. In Chinese folk religion, families prepare food offerings for deceased relatives to keep ancestral hungry ghosts at bay.Hungry Ghost: Yearning for Fulfillment asks you to interpret and illuminate this powerful, culturally rich metaphor. How do Asian American women artists express deep emotional and physical desires? How do we relate to the idea of isolation and alienation? How do we reconcile our Asian backgrounds and American surroundings? How do food and family shape our identity? How do we deal with consumption and compulsion? How do we crave acceptance and fulfillment? What feeds us? Eligibility: The exhibition is open to Asian American women literary and visual artists 18 years and older. Visual art Original 2D and 3D works of any medium completed since January 2010 will be reviewed. No greater than 50 pounds, no larger than 7' x7' x 2' wide. Installation work Freestanding, no fragile installation, no wider than 3 feet. 7' x 7' x 2' deep Literary art Original poetry, fiction or nonfiction completed since January 2010 will also be reviewed. 2 pages or less in length, 12-point type, double-spaced. Submit as a word doc. Work will be selected by curator, Lisa Chiu and AAWAA's Curatorial Team.    Venue: Thoreau Center of Sustainability, Building #1014, Tourney Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94129 Submission Deadline: Tuesday, March 6, 2012, 11:59 PM Proposals, including size and sketches, will be considered. Please send samples of your current work. Delivery of artwork: Sunday, April 15, 2012, 11 AM - 5 PM Dates of exhibition: Monday, April 23 – Saturday, June 9, 2012 Opening reception: Thursday, April 26, 2012, 5-8:30 PM at Thoreau Center of Sustainability   Entry details: Applications will be accepted until Tuesday, March 6, 2012 11:59 PM PST. Incomplete or late applications will not be considered. Information submitted may be used for publicity purposes. Entries must be submitted online via EntryThingy  An $8 entry fee must be submitted via PayPal Here Insurance: Provided by Thoreau Center for Sustainability while artwork is onsite.     Drop-off and pick-up: Artist is responsible for transit of accepted works to and from Thoreau Center. No storage is available. Sales: 10% commission of sales goes to AAWAA’s Emerging Curator Program. About the Curator: Lisa Chiu is a Taiwanese American writer and food fanatic. Her essays appear in Cheers to Muses: Contemporary Works by Asian American Women (2007) and Who's Your Mama?: The Unsung Voices of Women and Mothers (2009). Coming from a background in literature, journalism and marketing, she is fascinated with myth, metaphor and the craft of storytelling. Her interest in curation stems from a desire to cultivate creative opportunities that foster cultural awareness. She conceived Hungry Ghost as a forum to amplify Asian American women’s voices and showcase their art. She writes about family, food, culture and community on her blog, Rants, Ravings and Ruminations. Emerging Curators Program:  AAWAA’s Emerging Curators Program provides a platform for aspiring curators residing in San Francisco Bay to develop their vision and encourage curatorial expertise in the Asian American community. Presenting Organizations: Asian American Women Artists Association (AAWAA) is a nonprofit arts organization dedicated to ensuring the visibility and documentation of Asian American women in the arts. Through exhibitions, publications, and educational programs, we offer thought-provoking perspectives that challenge societal assumptions and promote dialogue. www.aawaa.net Thoreau Center For Sustainability: Operated by Tides, Thoreau Center for Sustainability is a green nonprofit center dedicated to social, cultural and environmental sustainability, Thoreau Centers are named after the American writer and naturalist Henry David Thoreau. As American’s first notable naturalist, Thoreau believed in the importance of democracy and advocated living in harmony with nature.  http://www.thoreau.org/ Send questions to cynthia@aawaa.net (415) 722- 4296

On democracy and oyster omelettes

A few weeks ago, my family ate at an Asian restaurant in Cupertino and chowed down on several Taiwanese comfort food dishes: bean thread noodles, oyster omelettes (also known as oyster pancakes) and steamed dumplings. The next day, I met up with a few fellow second-generation Taiwanese Americans in San Francisco and we reflected on what it was like to grow up as an Asian American in the Midwest and West Coast. 

There is a powerful connection between food and memory. Every time I eat Taiwanese food, I feel compelled to call my mom. So, feeling nostalgic, I called my parents in Ohio and we talked about my weekend of Taiwanese culture and the recent presidential election in Taiwan. My parents had been rooting for Democratic Progressive Party candidate Tsai Ing-wen, Taiwan's first female presidential candidate. Our relatives in Taiwan, including my spunky 96-year-old grandmother had voted, while my parents followed election news on satellite TV. "We lost. It was close," my dad said. Both my parents cried. 

It was ironic that our conversation took place the weekend before Martin Luther King Day. I remember the first time I heard the word "We shall overcome" was as a child growing up in Cleveland. With heavy Taiwanese accents, my parents and their friends sang the words as they marched down Euclid Avenue to Public Square. They wore matching t-shirts and hoisted homemade signs that said "Democracy on Taiwan!" I have vivid memories of our family gathered in a basement with other Taiwanese families silkscreening dozens of those t-shirts. We hosted a party where all of us rounded our dining room table in an assembly line, folding, sealing and stamping letters to Congress petitioning support of Taiwan.

While I understood my parents' disappointment with the election results, I couldn't comprehend why they were so emotional about it. After all these years, there is still a language barrier between us when it comes to discussing emotions and complex topics. So I turned to a few of my Taiwanese American friends to get their perspective. 

Each of them reminded me that our parents grew up during World War II when Taiwan was under Japanese and then Chinese Kuomingtang (KMT) rule. Many of our parents, including my own, have bitter memories about the KMT, in particular. "The KMT seized property that belonged to my father's side of the family," my friend Vicki said. "My maternal grandfather was imprisoned for six months. My mother still gets emotional when she talks about it."

After growing up under martial law for many years, our parents dreamed of the day Taiwan would one day be independent. Many of them came to the United States for graduate and professional school opportunities. And then they stayed. By now, they have lived more years here than in Taiwan. They are U.S. citizens; they pay taxes, they vote, they serve jury duty (my dad raved about it!).

In the past decade, I've enjoyed a wonderful closeness to my parents, mostly because of my two kids. Where my mom and dad once were typical Tiger Parents with me, they are complete softies with the boys. My parents spent a lot of time caring for my boys when they were babies and I was at work, and as a result, I swear my older son's first word was "chocolate".

So even though I feel closer then ever to my parents, there is still a cultural gap between us. As a teenager, it frustrated me. As a middle-aged mom, it saddens me. I wish I could understand what they are going through. I can't help but wonder if my parents are giving up the dream of an independent motherland - and perhaps more than that. Is it about getting older? Is it about thinking my aging grandmother may have voted in her last presidential election? 

I wish I knew.

Lunar New Year, yoga and red bean soup

For Lunar New Year, my Taiwanese yoga teacher served homemade red bean soup after class. The sweet, thick soup, swimming with rice flour balls, tasted especially delicious after 90 minutes of sweating through crazy pretzel-like poses! It was a nourishing and comforting treat to kick off the Year of the Dragon.

Check out Tiny Urban Kitchen, one of my fave food blogs, for the recipe.

One peanut butter-filled pretzel nugget = one overnight hospital stay

Food allergies can be life threatening

My four-year-old son had a severe allergic reaction (anaphylaxis) yesterday after eating a single peanut butter-filled pretzel nugget. It resulted in several hours at an urgent care center, an ambulance ride to an ER and an overnight stay at a hospital. We were discharged this afternoon, about 24 hours after we arrived at the urgent care facility.

Here's what went down:

Yesterday, Nolan was offered a few snacks, including the pretzel nugget, while I was preoccupied during a yoga class. I glanced over and nodded my approval but I did not inspect the snacks closely. It was only after Nolan said his lips were burning that I realized something was wrong. His lips had been chapped so at first I thought he had merely peeled off some loose skin that left his lip feeling raw. He said he didn't feel well, though, so I gave him some Benadryl and we drove home. 

In the car, he threw up multiple times. At home, I gave him a bath and while cleaning up the vomit, I detected the smell of peanuts. 

We have known since Nolan was nine months old that he has a serious peanut allergy. When he was a baby, my dad ate a peanut butter sandwich near him and it triggered a major allergic reaction. Nolan's entire body was covered in hives and his face turned red and puffy. Since then, we have maintained a nut-free household and carry Benadryl and epinephrine pens everywhere we go.

At the end of his bath, Nolan threw up again. I gave him some more Benadryl, loaded him and his brother in the car, and drove to the Palo Alto Medical Foundation Mountain View Urgent Care Center. 

When we arrived, Nolan was not exhibiting any signs of an allergic reaction. The Benadryl had taken effect and he looked normal. We waited for the doctor and I called my husband to tell him where we were and what was going on. I said it would be good if he could leave work to come over but that everything was under control. 

Nico, my nine-year-old son, was amazing throughout the ordeal. He busted out his homework and kept himself busy through all the chaos. He didn't even flinch when his brother vomited inches away from his backpack. 

The doctor ordered an oral steroid medicine for Nolan and by the time he drank it, the Benadryl had started to wear off. The nurse helping us told us he had seen children deteriorate suddenly and severely with allergic reactions and that it was important to keep vigilant. Pretty much right after he said that, Nolan projectile vomited the medicine. Things went downhill rapidly. 

The next few hours were a blur. Vic arrived in the midst of the drama and was stunned at what he saw, particularly since the last words I had said to him were, "Things are under control." At some point, we moved from an exam room to a space directly in front of the nurses' station. It looked like a hospital room. Nolan was administered a steroid injection in his right thigh and an epinephrine injection in his left thigh. He started to develop tiny circular hives, first on his stomach, then on his neck, then everywhere. Then, the hives transformed. They were no longer circles but long, wide and thick raised welts covering him from head to toe. His body looked like a topographic map. He was given a second epinephrine injection and he vomited violently again. Nolan's blood pressure dropped and he became drowsy. An IV was administered. As the needle went into his arm, he woke up and screamed, "All of you are mean! Leave me alone!" The medical team seemed relieved (and amused) that he was so feisty. 

Around 7 p.m., an ambulance crew was summoned to take Nolan to an area emergency department. Our hospital was over capacity so we went to Stanford Hospital. I rode along with Nolan. Nico wailed, "Luuuucky!"

At the emergency department, we were greeted by a team of medical doctors, nurses, assistants, students. By now, Nolan was stable. His blood pressure was back to normal and his hives had disappeared. We had to wait as they determined which area of Lucile Packard Children's Hospital we would be admitted to. Apparently, when a patient is given two epinephrine injections, it basically guarantees an overnight stay. 

I spent the night with Nolan in his hospital room, while Vic and Nico went home. Nolan was hungry and thirsty but he was not permitted to eat or drink anything for several more hours. Eventually, he was allowed to drink apple juice. The saving grace was that he was able to watch movies on the hospital TV in his room. I knew he was back to his normal self when he asked to watch a cooking show. So we watched "Cupcake Wars". By this time, things were stable. Nolan and I settled to sleep on his bed, me still wearing my yoga clothes from this afternoon - now stiff from dried vomit. 

In the morning, Nolan was ecstatic when he was cleared to eat food again. He devoured a huge breakfast of turkey sausage, hash browns, wheat toast, raisin bran cereal, fruit cocktail, rice milk and apple juice. 

I was impressed with the medical staff throughout the experience. The doctors, nurses and students were all quite knowledgeable, caring, empathetic and helpful. Also, every person who left our hospital room asked, "Is there anything else I can help with?" before they departed. It was pretty amazing.

The attending physician told me her daughter also has a peanut allergy and that they have trained her to be extremely careful when eating new foods, accepting food from people outside her family, etc. Our pediatrician called to check on Nolan and said she also has a daughter with a peanut allergy. She shared an experience where her daughter ate a dessert that had nuts buried underneath whipped cream, even though they had specified "no nuts" when they ordered the dish. It's amazing how prevalent peanut allergies are these days.

So after a long scary afternoon and evening, Nolan was discharged from the hospital this afternoon. Everything turned out just fine, but it has been an eye-opening experience. I used to be squeamish about using the epi-pen but I am not any more. Our family now has first-hand experience that food allergies can be life-threatening. 

October in California

We had a fun Halloween evening today, our first in our Sunnyvale home. Our good friends Ellen and Edward brought their adorable son and daughter over and we ate pizza, trick-or-treated and handed out Halloween toys to the neighborhood kids. 

Don't mess with these ninjas!

It was a beautiful evening, with perfect 75 degree weather. It seemed a little strange to trick-or-treat without the familiar crispness of a midwestern October night and without leaves crackling beneath our feet. It was also weird to set out without knowing most of the people on our street.

I wasn't sure what to expect as far as the number of trick-or-treaters in our neighborhood, so I ended up with a lot of leftover rubber skeletons, Halloween tattoos and bouncy balls. Of the kids who came to our door, all were young, well-mannered and dressed in adorable costumes, accompanied by attentive parents standing behind them. I don't think we had any trick-or-treaters older than age 10 and none who came without their parents. A few neighbors introduced themselves, which was really nice.

This year, for the first time in our family, the selection of Halloween costumes went relatively smoothly. Both boys decided to wear matching ninja costumes.

Last year, Nico and I were not on the same page about his costume choice. He wanted to wear a gory Grim Reaper costume replete with an exposed rib cage and fake blood pump. 

This year, there was no battle over excessively gruesome attire. And I also let go of my cheap Asian mom instincts (well, to some extent). Years ago, I bought a plush puppy toddler costume off eBay for $10. I made both boys wear it, each for three years in a row. Friends tried to talk me out of it, lest my kids think that Halloween means dressing like a dog. Whatever! I got six Halloweens out of that costume, at $1.67 a year!

This year, I again went back to eBay for my costume shopping. I found some pretty good deals and opted against the ninja costume extras. Nico complained that he needed a sword, but I convinced him that the best ninjas need only their bare hands as deadly weapons. 

Last week, we participated in other Halloween activities. Nico's school had a wonderful Halloween celebration, beginning the day with a parade and an awesome performance of fourth- and fifth-graders dancing to Michael Jackson's "Thriller" (an annual tradition), led by their gym teacher. Vic thought it would have been better still if the kids dressed up as Filipino prisoners while performing the dance. Nico was embarrassed about the routine, but I thought it was fantastic! Also, the boys joined Vic for his company's annual trick-or-treat event for kids. Vic's team dressed up as Occupy Halloween protesters, with signs that said, "Save the pumpkins! No more carving! No more tricks! Give us treats!"

Earlier in the month, we went on a pumpkin-finding mission in Half Moon Bay, where we went to a pumpkin patch with my sister Linn and her girlfriend. All of us went in the haunted house, which was a stupid idea for four-year-old Nolan, who screamed, "NO! NO! NOT AT ALL! NOT! AT! ALL!" within seconds of entering the pitch-black maze. Vic and Nico also found their way in and out of a huge cornfield maze, while Nolan and I rode on the baby train. Afterward, we went on a long family hike. 

October in California has been lovely, although I do miss autumn in Ohio - the beautiful leaves, the apple-picking, the football weekends. Halloween is the highlight of the season for me, and once it is over, I know the winter holidays are not far behind. At least in California, the weather will be nicer. It's amazing how much sunshine and fresh air can lift my spirits.

After turning off the lights and cleaning up the trick-or-treating aftermath tonight, I'm feeling a bit wistful. Another Halloween, another childhood milestone for the boys, another year drawing to a close.