Let’s Begin (Again), Shall We?

I admit, I’ve stayed quiet on my blog for a long period of time. Part of it was that I felt it took a lot of time to maintain it. Other times I felt like I had nothing of importance to say. But I do have a lot I want to get off my chest. It has just taken me this long to realize that I needed to get back to doing it in my “safe place.” Where I can hopefully get clarity by bringing these heavy, intense – sometimes crushing, “the whole weight of the world is on my shoulder” thoughts out of my mind.

So, – as in the incredible mini-series that EVERY woman should watch, “Let’s begin, shall we?”

I still need to read the book …

While I have a lot more pressing things on my mind, the one that I think I want to address first was one I should have written two weeks ago. Truth be told, it should have been written the day that Roe v Wade got overturned, but maybe – in my self-deprecating, “the world is on the brink of collapsing” attitude, I couldn’t find a way or the energy to write it.

No. What forced me to sit down and write was concerning the Alabama Supreme Court’s ruling that frozen embryos in storage are still considered unborn children under state law. That was on February 16th. I should have written something then. Or I should have pushed myself more when two of only eight IVF clinics paused ALL treatment, including those at the most critical part of the cycle – the transfer of the embryos into the uterus.

To be honest, I had very mixed feelings about this.

PREP

First and foremost, I am a STRONG proponent of Women’s Rights. A woman’s decision on how she wants to handle her reproductive life is her own. In a fantasy world, a woman would have the support she would need to help her work through these choices, but we all know that many women do not. OR many women decide to make their decisions on their own. Women’s Rights. AmIRight?

Second. Regarding IVF? Well … duh. Why did I start writing this blog? I’d say it’s simple … but there’s a reason I started this blog. Go here for the extremely shortened version of our story.

Hubby and I did everything we could to have a biological child of our own. It was important to us to have created a child that was half Hubby and Half me. We wanted to see how that child would look – Would they have the unique nose that everyone on my Dad’s side of the family seemed to get? Would they have flat feet like Hubby’s side of the family gets? Would they be quiet and reserved like Hubby or loud and talkative like me? Would we be able to see and experience Nature vs Nurture with our very own eyes?

Then there’s those milestones. First smile. First words. First steps. First day at preschool, 1st grade, middle school, high school. Prom. Graduation from college or university. Wedding. Grandchildren. Every. Single. Event. We will never experience.

And NO [slamming each letter on the keyboard as I type] it is NOT THAT EASY to JUST ADOPT.

I had to accept that all those “what if’s” and milestones would never happen. I couldn’t risk the chance of more rejection and failure after what we had been through. It was important for me to put my whole body, mind, and soul into adoption. 1 By the time I got around to accepting the fact that we would never have a bio child our own, we were already in our early to mid-40’s. Which meant we’d be in our mid-60’s by the time the child graduated from high school. How fair is that for a kid to be the one person around responsible of taking care of their parents?

But I digress. (As I do so, very often.)

MIX INGREDIENTS

Anyway, here’s where the mixed feeling come into play. When we decided to try IVF, it felt like we were literally signing our whole lives away. Lots of paperwork. One of the paperwork referred to any excess embryos that may result from the cycle. Did we want to destroy them right away or freeze the remaining healthy ones they feel may survive the (for lack of better words) “dethawing” process for a Frozen Cycle? If we decided to freeze the embryos, there’s a (rather hefty) fee to keep them which gets renewed every year. I remember jokingly calling it a lease for an apartment.

New to the IVF world at the time, that paperwork seemed bizarre to us. Destroy, Freeze, or Donate. If Freezing, then:  1) In the event of death or divorce, who would maintain “property” of the embryo.” 2) In the event neither is alive nor have the mental capacity to make medical decisions, who would be the decision-maker? If Donating, then: 1) donate for research? 2) donate for surrogacy?

Weird, right? But totally makes sense if you think about it. I mean, you can’t live in an apartment free of rent without there being some repercussions, right? Pay to stay. Also, if you think of it, the wording sounds exactly like a medical Advanced Directive.

I think it was at that moment that Hubby & I fully understood the significance of what we were doing.  We had no doubt that we’d proceed with IVF. We knew that this would be the last chance for us to conceive our own child and knew that if we didn’t, we would regret not trying. That day though, it suddenly felt physically real. I don’t know what it’s like (obviously), but I guess one might compare it to a soon-to-be parent hearing their child’s heartbeat for the first time. Excited and overjoyed yet feeling a bit overwhelmed and nervous.

MARINATE

Going through an IVF cycle is brutal. It is NOT for the faint of heart. It is NOT anything I wish upon anyone – whether it’s a couple, family, or single female. It is time consuming. The prep. The daily injections. The multiple pelvic ultrasounds. Anxiously anticipating (while hormonally charged, btw) when to be told when to come in to retrieve your eggs. Praying that there are enough healthy enough to use and waiting 4-5 days to see how many embryos are viable. If there are ones healthy enough, deciding on how many embryos can be safely implanted into the uterus and – freezing any excess embryos.

Then there’s the two week waiting period (no pun intended). Trying to stay positive. Trying to “relax,” like you’ve been told a million times before since the start of your infertility journey. 2 Thinking that if you lay down more than stand, the embryos will “stick.” Basically it’s 14 days of HELL hoping that you don’t get your period. Praying that when you have your follow up visit with the IVF specialist, that the pregnancy test comes back positive. YAY if you do … You have had a successful IVF Cycle! And if you have any leftover healthy embryos, you can choose to freeze them to be used later – or not!

What if the IVF cycle fails? Or if none of the embryos are viable to be transplanted? Well … then the decision is personal for every individual or couple.

PLACE IN OVEN AND BAKE

During our IVF cycle, 13 eggs were retrieved and 8 were successfully “fertilized.” From there, only 3 embryos viable enough to use, but only 2 were implanted due to health concerns. That one embryo was frozen. I remember being so excited afterwards. I was happy, for lack of better words, that we had done the best we could do to create our own family. I felt hopeful, which was something I hadn’t felt in a while. I saw the possibility of the future I always dreamed I’d have with Hubby.

I treated my belly as if I was already pregnant and that I was carrying our possible babies, that they’d eventually grow into a healthy fetus where I could hear a heartbeat. Where at 24 weeks, I’d know that they’d be healthy (though not strong) enough to survive outside of my womb. At the time of the implantation, our IVF specialist actual presented us with a picture of the two embryos (akin to getting that first baby ultrasound picture for many others), which for YEARS I called my “Maybe Babies.”  

FREEZE

But of course, our IVF cycle failed. And … well, you can read the many entries on this blog to see how I dealt with it. We were so heart-broken that we forgot about the one lonely frozen embryo until it came time to renew the “lease” a year later. When we got the invoice, I stood there for a bit, frozen (no pun intended). Though they never went away, the flood gates opened and all those emotions from the day I was told the IVF cycle failed came rushing back to me. I remember that invoice sitting on our table for about a week with Hubby & I trying our best to ignore it. Yet it kept mocking us as we walked by, knowing we had to have the discussion soon. I was pretty sure we were thinking the same thing, but I just had to take some time to accept that this was going to be my answer.

When we finally sat down to talk about it, we both agreed that it didn’t make sense to keep that one last “Maybe Baby.” There was little chance it would survive the process to unfreeze, let alone have a chance of successfully resulting in a pregnancy. Plus, that would mean another round of daily injections, multiple pelvic ultrasounds, etc. All of which were NOT covered by any health insurance at the time. We couldn’t afford a Frozen Cycle. We were both financially and emotionally spent.

Being of medical background, I considered donating to science. My conscience; however, couldn’t fathom the thought of hurting our embryo. Neither Hubby or I felt comfortable donating for surrogacy either, since it felt strange knowing that our bio baby could possibly be out there and we weren’t raising them. So, we decided to do the responsible thing and let our last Maybe Baby go.

DISCARD LEFTOVERS

It was NOT an easy decision. Not just because of the logical reasons listed above. For me, it was the last chance I would ever come close to creating a life form of my own. And while I know that technically this embryo is only a few cells and not even anything REMOTE to being a living, breathing being with a heart (or any organs for that matter) … it still hurt. That glimpse of my dream future, the excitement I had on major events in my life to that point (graduation, getting my RN license, wedding) … that disappeared. I felt like I just killed any chance of that future; severed myself from that timeline of possibilities. So yeah, maybe in a way, I thought it was a symbolic murder.

Do I consider what Hubby and I did as an abortion? No. Does it hurt like hell that we did what we did? Hell to the Yes. This wasn’t a choice we ever thought we would have to make. We had other ideas of how things would turn out. We thought our IVF would be successful. We thought that if it wasn’t, we’d be able to try for a frozen cycle. But it wasn’t successful. And it wasn’t financially or worth the risk to do a frozen cycle or to pay the rather costly rental fee.

And that’s, I suppose, where the mixed feeling come from. Ours isn’t everyone else’s experience. Everyone has their RIGHT to decide how they want to proceed. The right to choose. ALL. THE. WAY.

REVIEW MISTAKES OR MISHAPS

Going back to Alabama and their Supreme Court ruling, it’s not so much their decision that I’m having a hard time with. I strongly disagree with that. Even though Alabama Legislation provided a temporary fix to restart IVF treatments in their state, I am still angry. That legislation only covers liability for the providers (-ie doctors, clinics, etc) and suppliers (labs, medical equipment companies) and still doesn’t address the main issue of women’s rights.

What I’m truly angry about is the responses from the US Legislative branch of the Federal Government. I find it repulsive that there are many Senators and Congressional Members that have stated to be “all for IVF,” but their previous actions say otherwise.

For example. US Representative House Speaker Mike Johnson has stated recently,

AND YET, he is the co-sponsor and writer of the Life at Conception Act, which defines life as beginning “at the moment of fertilization.”

A-hem. IVF = In vitro FERTILIZATION.

In the US Senate, despite being brought up a second time, the Access to Family Building Act was rejected unanimously by the Republicans. 3 Yet here we have Senator Roger Marshall, R-KS, saying,

I’m almost positive that those US Senators & House Reps are up for re-election this year and are just “playing the game” to get the votes; biding their time to win so they can go back to denying women’s reproductive rights.

I won’t even get into the Christian Evangelical side of things. That would just get me going even more.

Here’s where I get a bit confused. You’re pro-life but you don’t support artificial means of creating life. You support pregnancy but you deny funding for care that women need reproductive care the most. You don’t support any type of medications that may help prevent, not only a pregnancy (unplanned or otherwise), but help with other female related reproductive issues that have NOTHNG to do with child-bearing. You think that a woman should be kept alive to birth the baby, even though her life is severely at risk. You believe a woman should carry an unborn child to term knowing that the baby has already expired or will die immediately or shortly after birth.

That is my definition of cruel and unusual punishment. And the men (or women, I should add) who have no education or experience in practicing medicine should NOT be making or signing any legislation about what should happen to a woman and her body.

MAKE AND BE THE VOICE OF CHANGE

I have been extremely angry for a VERY long time about the reversal of Roe v Wade. For the past two years I’ve been trying to find a way to voice my opinion about it in a public manor. Sure, I’ve talked about it with other friends and like-minded peers. And sure, I’ve discussed it with some Pro-lifers, but not to the extent either of us wanted to. Over the years, I’ve become more of an introvert and prefer not to be out of the house too much. But this time … this IVF issue really hit too close to home. Which is why I finally picked up the pen – err, dusted off my keyboard – and decided to write again.

Maybe by putting words down for people to read (and hopefully learn more about the other side of any issue) will make a difference in helping people understand.

  1. If you are one of those that can do that readily, then I’m happy for you. Unfortunately, I am not. ↩︎
  2. NEVER, EVER helpful at all, BTW ↩︎
  3. Not that I mean to single out a particular political party. Okay, yeah, I do. ↩︎

The “Unmothers” Day

(The Week Where the Waves Kept Comin’)

So. I realize that my little cubby-hole in the internet-verse started as a way to work through my emotions while going through IF (infertility). And furthermore, how I was managing with living child-free.

And I realize that my most recent posts since 2020 (when I returned to putting my thoughts on “paper”) have not been related to IF / Child-free living.

That’s because, for the most part, I’ve resolved my feelings about both and have accepted that the life I am currently living is the life I was meant to have. In addition, when Hubby & I found ourselves “fur-childless” as our elder cats, Rain & Yami and our 12-yo puplo, Kozzy crossed the Rainbow Bridge, we knew we wanted to provide a good life for a rescue dog.

That’s how Kirby came into our lives. Having grown up with one, I was hoping to get a beagle. They just have such a unique personality that I can only describe as charismatic. They are smart, yet can be goofy. They are stubborn, but have no shortage in the love department. And their ears are so velvety soft.

In addition, we wanted to have a smaller type beagle, as Kozzy was a little too big for small home living. And finally, it had to be a boy because: 1) we’ve never had a male pet, and 2) Kirby was to be “Daddy’s Dog.”

It took a month of searching online for a beagle / beagle-mix at a local rescue or shelter. And just as I was about to lose hope on finding our “dream” dog, Hubby stumbled across Kirby’s profile at a local rescue group.

It was love at first site. While we love all of our “fur-children,” there is something about Kirby that makes him extra special. Maybe it’s because of those eyes, or that heart on top of his head. Or maybe the fact that his personality seemed to have traits derived from of all our pets. His curiosity definitely came from Yami. His stubbornness rivaled Kozzy’s. And just like Rain, he was a cuddle monster. Either way, at that moment, we knew that Kirby would be part of our family, our Ohana.

It’ll be seven years this July that Kirby has been in our lives. Since then, he started his own Instagram (@kirbykrackel) and Facebook accounts. He may not be an “influencer,” but he certainly has made lots of friends being part of the #GrumpyBeaglesUnited group. (Okay, so really it’s me that found life-long friends who’s beagles also had IG accounts).

Kirby loves going for rides in the car; he has a perpetual “What’s our next adventure?” look. That need for adventure likely came from the many road trips we’ve taken. He’s put his paws in Lake Superior, the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. He’s canoed down the Platte River with us. He even strolled the National Mall when we took him to DC. We’ve driven cross- country, from Chicago to Santa Monica, jumping on and off I-40 to stop at interesting places off Route 66. We’ve been to the East Coast, the Outer Banks, Hilton Head and (of course) Florida. Needless to say, Kirby is a well-traveled pupster.

On each of these trips, we made it a point to meet some of Kirby’s Beagle Friends and their parents. It’s been nice to actually pet these awesome beagles and talk to their “parents” in person.

Kirby has made us more sociable; forcing us to meet complete strangers who want to pet him. He’s the reason we’ve been taking road trips, rather than flying somewhere for vacation. Basically Kirby was the one who brought us out of our shells to meet new people and make new adventures. He allowed us to step outside that life of IF and Child-free living and experience more of what life has to offer.

It was only a matter of time that Hubby & I would think of rescuing another beagle. Our wish list was the same as for Kirby; though we didn’t really have a preference of gender. From our beagle friends, we found a regional beagle rescue group. We hadn’t been actively looking, but there were a few young beagles on their site that prompted us to, at the very least, submit an application for review.

When we rescued Kirby, other than calling our Vet’s office to confirm we maintained the health of our other pets, the adoption process was painless. Which to me was a relief after years of considering other ways to start our human family.


Like I mentioned above, I hadn’t been writing much about my feelings about being child-free or how going through IF changed me. If you read the “About Me” portion of my blog, you’ll find that we considered adoption both domestic & abroad. However, given the heartache and disappointment during the years trying to conceive (TCC), I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to survive any heartache and disappointment if we were NOT chosen to be parents for a child.

More so, I was downright afraid of the application process. For most adoption agencies, they have standards in which to “approve” a person/family to be eligible to adopt. This meant that there would be a thorough investigation of our past, our finances, and — of course, our home. Then, if we were officially cleared to be placed on an adoption list, we would need to make an “About Us” profile in hopes that a biolological parent would choose us to raise their child.

For others, that would be a piece of cake; another step in starting their family. For me though, it was an invasion of my privacy, a judgement on how I live / lived my life, a look-see at any past mistakes I may have made. And that scared the living daylights out of me.

I’ve been told that when going through a pregnancy, your privacy just flies out the window. You could care less about who saw what and why needed to be done. Your goal was to deliver this child safely by all means necssary.

What hasn’t been said is that privacy is very scarce when you’re actively going through the IF work-up and the subsequent treatments. Visits to the IF Clinic were exhausting. I’d have to go twice (sometimes three times) a week to find the “optimal” time to conceive. This involved removing all clothing below the waist. It involved intrauterine ultrasounds, pelvic exam among pelvic exam. I swear, it got to the point where the minute I stepped into the IF clinic’s exam room, I would automatically drop my pants. I was in good company though, as others in the waiting room (though none of us could look at each other) were probably doing the same exact thing in the exam room. To this day, I experience PTSD when I go for my yearly girly exam. It was THAT invasive of my privacy.

We went through these experiences as if it was one “step” towards starting our biological family. Despite the odds against us, running up these “stairs”(if you will) still provided us an element of hope; a glimmer that I somehow could get pregnant.

When the glimmer of hope died after that one In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) failed, well … I felt defeated, depleted, but most of all depressed. I sunk down to the bottom of an endless well and, at one point didn’t think I’d be able to break the surface ever again. It took a long time to get where I am today; with the acceptance that I am unable to have biological children. Most of the time, my “healing process” involved being honest with my emotions, my actions, and my desires. It forced me to determine what I considered important in the life I was given, whether or not it was one I imagined. It was a tough journey, I managed to get out and accept that my life was meant to travel this road, to earn these battle scars.

Once I got out of that “black pit of despair,” I knew never ever wanted to go through those emotions again. In that darkness, I felt as if I had no ability to make things better for myself; wasn’t able to control my emotions. I felt as if I was was just a puppet and the master of the puppet strings (apron strings?) was the world mocking me because I couldn’t have kids.

It was that lack of control that I felt; that I was a slave to my monthly cycle. Each decision to make depended on the treatments we were receiving. I wanted to take back that part of my life where I had the ability to make decisions based on what I wanted to do; to take control of my life rather than what IF dictated.

Since biological children were not in our future, we were finally forced to decide if we wanted to adopt. While I couldn’t control what was happening with my body while TTC, I certainly had the control to make decisions of whether or not we wanted to adopt. Of which we all know what that decision was.


Why am I bringing up both Kirby and Infertility? Well, the obvious is because Kirby is our four-legged child; and therefore, has provided us with a way to raise and nurture a child.

Now that urge to “parent” another beagle has been growing; especially after the year that was 2020. We thought it would be great if Kirby had a sibling, someone to play with, someone he can nurture as well. This brings us to the present time.

This Beagle Rescue group, like other rescue groups require us to submit an application. In addition, they require an phone interview and a subsequent home visit if the interested party passed the interview.

Hubby & I knew that as we filled out the application and as we were being interviewed over the phone. Though I still hate the invasion of privacy that comes with adoption, I was prepared to go through all the steps if it meant that we could add another beagle to our Ohana.

We passed the first two steps easily enough. Therefore a home visit, which included bringing another beagle for Kirby to interact with, was set for for the last week of April.

While there were rough patches with Kirby interacting with the other beagle, he was otherwise okay or chose to ignore him. But if he get too close to Kirby’s toys or food, or if this beagle explored Kirby’s “territory” unchaperoned, Kirby would growl. And if the other beagle was within inches of Kirby, he would bear his teeth and appear as if he wanted to attack him.

Kirby has been with other dogs (he likes running with the big dogs in the dog park), he just doesn’t like getting too personal with them. Touch his privates and he goes bonkers (he’s apparently hip with the #MeToo movement). We found out when the other beagle went to the upstairs bedrooms unaccompanied, Kirby is very protective of his territory. Apparently he takes his job as Beagle Security very seriously when it comes to our home.

Despite those issues, the home visit seemed to go okay. Definitely not stellar, but — as we were given good advice on what we can do when introducing another dog into the house — we thought we did a decent job expressing how much another beagle would be great for our Ohana. We already knew about the whole “don’t touch me there” issue, but we emphasized that this would be something we can work on. We also expressed our commitment to the process of slowly introducing a new beagle to our family.

The Tuesday before Mother’s Day, we received an email from the rescue group. It stated that after reviewing the home visit report, they thought that Kirby would not be comfortable with another dog in the house. It ended with saying that our application was declined for this, and that it “wouldn’t be fair” to Kirby or a new dog.

It took me a couple minutes to digest that email and even more minutes to compose myself to let Hubby know our application was declined.

Suddenly I felt as if I was back on the IF roller coaster once again. I was rejected because I wasn’t a good enough mother. I hadn’t properly socialized Kirby with other dogs throughout the years which is why he appears to be aggressive during certain moments. That during the background check, they must have found something in our previous pets’ medical records that deemed us bad candidates for adoption. That I wasn’t fur-mother appropriate. That I was worthless.

Now logically, I know that adopting a dog is NOTHING like adopting a human child. That child adoption is a more cumbersome process than it is to adopt a dog. I also know that these “interviews” and home visits are for the well-being of the adoptee, whether it’s a child or adult.

But emotionally? On the week heading into Mothers Day of all days? I became a complete wreck. At that moment, all the things I feared about when contemplating domestic or international adoptions happened … while trying to adopt a dog.


I believe I may have told this story in a previous post, but it’s something that I like to return to when I’m feeling the sting of infertility (or the sadness that comes with the loss of a loved one) more potently than other days.

A friend once told me that it is normal to grieve intermittently; that no one really EVER gets done grieving. He compared it to the ebb and flow of tides formed from the gravitational pull of the sun and moon. During a full moon, the pull of the sun and moon cause the tides to be higher (queue Blondie, “The Tide is High,”), stronger; constantly hitting the shore with such force.

During other moon phases; however, the pull is weaker and waves can appear as a small ripple gently approaching the coast. However, there exists other factors (such as wind, storms) that can cause disruptions in an otherwise calm body of water. Those elements are capable of creating recklessly tall waves or even teeny tiny minuscule waves. These factors can be unpredictable, not only on how hard the waves hit the shores, but on how long of a period occurs between each wave, each set.

This friend said to think of grief as those tides, these waves. At first the grief is so strong, so painful, and so constant that it feels like the grief will never stop. But then there are the times where grief, while still palpable, is still not as potent as it was in the beginning. And then there are the times where grief manifests in other ways (memories, milestones, deja vu moments, for example) without any warning.

I was told to remember that grief can be sneaky like that; punching you in the gut without even realizing that you’ve been hit. Those are the times that we should recognize that it’s okay feel that grief more acutely. That grief, like the ebb and flow of tides never really ends.

So today, if you ask me how I’m handling child-free living, chances are you’ll get a “not so good” answer. I really am okay, and I know that I’m the only person that can make myself feel worthless. I know that I will pick myself up once again. Like I’ve done so many times since the beginning.

I know that despite everything, I will get through this rough patch.

The One Where Emily Can’t Be Silent or Model Anymore

Here. Hold my Asian American Teacup
Part Five: Last post in my ongoing series about Asian Americans
(Part One begins here)

If there is anything “good” to come from Asian stereotypes, it’s that most Asian ethnicities practice (for the most part) patience and respect for others; they believe that family is important above all else (with maybe the exception of religion). Perhaps it has to do with China being one of the oldest civilizations in the world that this trait had passed on to each ethnicity, but there is no doubt that certain mindfulness techniques (meditation, yoga, tai chi, for example) have derived from these Asian practices. [i]  

I find it ironic that Western culture has latched onto these techniques; with gusto over the past several years, may I add. Yoga studios everywhere. Tai Chi being offered at Community Centers. Mindfulness techniques through meditation (think Headspace, Insight Timer, Calm). Which I think is a good thing; we all have to find a way to cope with anxiety and stress.

Then you have movies & TV shows, where they make (or in some cases remake) movies without using the appropriate actors. Hollywood has been notorious for “white-washing” many characters that should be Asian.

The release of the movie version [ii] of “Crazy Rich Asians” in 2018 was the first movie since the All-Asian, English-speaking cast of 1993’s “The Joy Luck Club.” That’s a 25-year difference and should give anyone an idea of how much Asian disparity there is in Hollywood-produced films.

Marvel Studios faced criticism from Asian Americans when Tilda Swinton was cast as The Ancient One in “Dr. Strange.” Whereas in the Marvel Comics, The Ancient One is a Tibetan man living in a hidden village on the Himalayan mountains. Swinton’s portrayal; however, is believed to be an androgynous Celtic woman.

There’s the casting of Scarlett Johansson as the main character in the Japanese manga & movie, 2017’s “Ghost in The Shell.” David Carradine’s “Kung Fu” series that ran from 1972 to 1975. [iii]  Or the 2015 movies “Aloha” which stars Emma Stone as Allison Ng in “Aloha.” And “The Great Wall” where Matt Damon is depicted as the “white savior.”

As for the OG “Karate Kid” movies, I must say that – as 80’s as it was – at least they got the ethnicity correct (Japanese) with Mr. Miyagi. But the same can’t be said for the remake. That movie was based in China, when Karate is Japanese. Although, these days English-speaking individuals tend to use Karate for any or all Asian martial arts.

The most reviled “yellow face” in movies is Mickey Rooney in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”  Mr.  Rooney was cast as Mr. Yunioshi, the bumbling “oriental” (there’s that word again!) of Japanese descent. Time period or not, there are still recent movies utilize something called Orientalism (a whole litany of that word!).

By definition, Orientalism is the way the Western world perceives Asia; where the concept of one’s ideas of an Asian person both exaggerates and distorts the Asian culture to define the differences between their white culture. It’s seen as a means to reinforce the positive image that non-Asians have of themselves while – at the same time – portraying Asians as odd, baffling, and sometimes barbaric. It’s a notion that the Western world is the epitome of humanity and that their morality, progress, power is superior to no one else. They see the Eastern world as a direct opposite of their “New World” ideals.

That said, patience and respect is something that all Asian & Asian Americans are taught at an early age.  We are taught to respect our elders and recognize “hard work” as a way of success. We are taught in a subtle way to practice empathy; though it usually is disguised as being called “selfish.” [iv]

High School Graduation (with honors, of course)

Most first-generation Asian Americans are taught that we should assimilate to American culture. Many of which were never taught their native language (<waves hand>) for fear that it would confuse (in my case) Tagalog with American English. In the case of many half-generation Asian Americans, they may be old enough to understand and/or speak in their native tongue. However, many are taught to only speak English at home; to practice the language to sound less like a foreigner with an accent. [v]

In particular, first-generation Asian Americans are taught to not “make waves.” That we shouldn’t cause a scene or make an issue about actions or behaviors that would ostracize their family and/or their culture.  Meanwhile, in American culture, making waves is something more like making progress and/or change. [vi]

For those reasons (and many more), Asians & Asian Americans are seen and referred to as the Silent Minority.” By definition, silent minority is a small number of people within a demographic group, or even the entire group (in this case, Asian & Asian Americans) who do – or rather will not – express their opinions publicly.

By doing this, the Silent Minority individual(s) choose to disassociate themselves from other groups (other ethnicities including Caucasians) on any hotly debated issue such as political or religious discussions, for example. They choose to be an inactive bystander by remaining neutral and not siding with either end of any particular topic.

In other words, it’s seen as a reason not to “rock the boat” while simultaneously showing that they are willing to assimilate to the American culture in order to be accepted.  

There is another term that coexists with Silent Minority; one that likely encompasses what their silence is hoping to achieve. Model Minority is defined as a minority group whose members (let’s say in this case, Asian Americans) wish to achieve a higher degree of socioeconomic or professional success in order to prove they are willing and able to be part of mainstream society.

For example, they strive for higher education believing that this will result in a prominent profession in which they can be a respected leader. They try to assimilate to remain neutral on hot topics (Silent Minority). They aim for a higher place in the socioeconomic ladder of the Western world so that they’d no longer feel judged by who (their ethnicity) and what (values, cultural practices, for instance) they are.

Still the dutiful daughter; always studying even at University despite the ongoing distractions

It’s these reasons that White America identify Asian Americans as a “model” for other ethnicities. This stem from their perception that Asian Americans we are less of a “threat” to their society by remaining neutral. They assume that Asian Americans do not want to share their thought on topics like racism, politics, and religion. They expect that Asian Americans will NOT speak up or participate in certain events. For example, the #MeToo organization. The #HumanRights, #LGBTQ, and #LoveIsLove campaigns. The #BlackLivesMatter and #SocialJustice movement. [vii]

Though white America believes that it’s a compliment to be labeled as a “model minority,” most Asian Americans (even if they remain silent) do not.

Asian Americans, especially GenX (and beyond), see this as an excuse to justify the exclusion of minorities as well as marginalize any individual success within a minority group (Prime example: “Asians are ALL smart”). Furthermore, this concept of being a Model Minority ultimately results in other marginalized groups pitting themselves against each other; where one groups believes they are able to assimilate and/or or be accepted into the American mainstream than the other group(s).

To me, this illustrates the reason why many of our immigrant parents (and other families & friends), remain neutral / side with popular white America. And why, despite being minorities themselves, they perceive all other ethnicities (Asian-, African- Americans and Latinos, for example) as being inferior to them. Much like how white America deems everyone inferior to them.

Personally, I find it pitiful that white America feels they need to set other minority groups against each other. This shameful behavior belongs in the middle school playground; not in the adult world. [viii]

What’s that term? Divide and conquer?

Look back at history, specifically the periods of civil unrest, the increase in hate crimes, and the onset of excessive verbal abuse from white America happened at a time of fear. Specifically, the fear that non-white Americans are a threat to their way of life. Fear of unemployment; of having their jobs “replaced” with a person who does not look like them. Fear of being “taken over” by other minorities.

Just like they feared the Filipino farm workers in Stockton were taking their jobs (and their women) from them. Or how during WWII, Japanese Americans were considered a threat to national security. Or how Vincent Chin died because two laid-off white autoworkers felt that any Asian (regardless of ethnicity) was responsible for the economic downfall of the Big Three.

Just like the 91-yo Filipino American in Oakland, CA seen by circuit TV was thrown to the ground. And the Asian American New Yorkers who have been spit on and verbally abused on the subways and streets of NYC.

Or the 83-yo Chinese woman in San Francisco who was punched without provocation and fought back. [ix] Additionally, she insisted that the remaining donations (around $900K) on GoFundMe given back to the AAPI community to combat racism and hate crimes. How’s that for a gesture of good will?

Just like the 8 people (six of them Asian) that were fatally shot at two different Asian spas by a 21-yo male with a supposed porn addiction. And the subsequent statement from the Chief of Police who marginalized those deaths by saying that he was just having a “really bad day.”

Again, all these incidents stem from fear and are perpetuated by stereotypes. All of these activities continue to occur because of anger. This anger ultimately surfaces with hate and hate crimes.

This is the moment where I state my favorite quote. This quote, IMHO, is a perfect analogy [x] on how hate crimes begin and its resulting outcomes.  And yes, it’s from the very wise, 990-year-old Grand-master Jedi, Yoda.

“Fear is the path to the Dark Side.
Fear leads to Anger. Anger leads to Hate.
Hate leads to suffering.”

This is why I choose to speak up about Asian-American Hate Crimes, especially its part in US history. I feel it’s important for every resident in US to realize that Asians (and other non-white Americans), have always been seen as inferior to white person. That even though over the last 6 years, there has been a 150% increase in Asian Hate Crimes, these sentiments, behaviors, and actions have existed here in the US as far back as 1587 when Filipinos took those first steps in present-day Morro Bay, CA 33 years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. And most definitely occurred before 1776, when the Declaration of Independence, which states that All men are created equal was signed.[xi]

I’m speaking up about Model Minority because it pits Asian Americans and other ethnic groups against each other. Because it marginalizes any success that we achieve. Because it no longer pays to “assimilate” or strive to be better than other ethnicities. Because White America will always see us as inferior to them.

Because even though we’re acceptable, we are not accepted.

I’m speaking up because I no longer want to be a Silent Minority. I want it known that white America’s ethnically related behaviors and actions cause suffering. That this suffering not only affects Asian Americans but the United States as a whole [xii]  And like many 1st & 2nd generations of Asian Americans, we want our voices to be heard.

We want to talk and debate about the disparities and inequities in OUR country. We want to discuss how Asian Americans and all other minority groups want social justice, equity, and equality for everyone in the US, regardless of race, religion, economic status, sex, gender, marriage, identity, etc

I’m speaking up because I want to help #StopAsianHate

I hope you take all that I’ve written to heart. My wish is that you pass on this knowledge to the next person and the next person and the next person. Because, if we don’t TALK ABOUT IT, nothing will ever change. And history, once again, would be doomed to repeated.

<Drops mic and walks off Soapbox>


[i] Now before you say that yoga derived from India and meditation had its beginnings as an Islam practice, both are rooted in Asian culture, as India and Saudi Arabia (where Islam began) are part of the Asian continent.

[ii] IMHO the movie, though very entertaining, does not compare to reading the book. (Although the mahjong scene at the end was a great addition.)

[iii] Though syndication of “Kung Fu” had even us 80’s kids watching it

[iv] Who am I kidding? Not only are we taught that we’re selfish as kids, but that thought of “being selfish” extends to our adult lives.

[v] Never mind that the parents still speak their language to you, you still had to respond in English

[vi] Does the whole “feeling I’m split in two make more sense now?

[vii] Seriously, I could go on and on and on …

[viii] NEWSFLASH: They will continue to do this unless something CHANGES. Which means talking about it.

[ix] Don’t mess with any Asian-American woman. We may look docile and agreeable, but – if pushed hard enough (both literally AND figuratively) – we strike back!

[x] Then again, this quote can be used in any situation

[xi] It also said that we have the right to vote. Thomas Jefferson when writing & signing the Declaration of Independence wrote, “Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed.” Just saying …

[xii] Think of why America was called “The Melting Pot” and why our Statue of Liberty reads:

“Give me your tired, your poor,
your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

“The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus

The One Where Emily Hates Stereotypes

I’m not smart, but I am a nurse!
Part Four in my ongoing series about Asian Americans
(Part One begins here)

I brought up the Vincent Chin incident in the previous post, because after finally opening my eyes to racial disparity at the age of 14, I became self-conscious of being Filipino American. Especially as this country perceives Asians as “different” – or rather, “inferior” – to them.

I’m sure most of you know that Hubby is also Filipino American; he was born in Manila, but came to the US.  Being only 5 at that time, most of his upbringing has mirrored those of a first generation Filipino American. [i]

Growing up, I didn’t think I would marry another Filipino. In my eyes, I naively thought that in order to “assimilate” to the US culture, I would have to marry a non-Filipino. Yes, I realize how silly that sounds. Then I met Hubby and realized that it didn’t matter what ethnicity my spouse would be. What mattered was that my spouse would be my best friend and partner-in-crime with every adventure we would take.

Unsurprisingly, most non-Asian people automatically think that Hubby and I are “fresh of the boat.”[ii] We especially experience this when we’re somewhere we don’t visit often enough for people to at least recognize us. Typically, it’s while shopping further away from home, but especially when we’re out of town.

We notice the stares from others for being the only Asians in their area. We get suspicious looks when at any store or restaurant, almost as if they’re saying, “Who ARE those people and WHY are they here?” We get surprised looks when we speak very clear English. [iii]

Then there’s the flip side: Individuals who think they know everything about Asian Culture. They’re typically the ones that introduce themselves with, “Where are you from?” Yet despite telling them that I’m from Detroit, they continue to ask other insane questions like, “I mean, where are you originally from?” or “Where are your parents from?” It’s as if they have a hard time saying, “What is your ethnicity?”

Once they get the appropriate answer, these individuals (I refer to them as ATA’s) [iv] tend to say one of two things: “I knew you were Filipino,” followed by mentioning some other random Filipino celebrity (Pacquiao, for example) followed by some random Tagalog phrase. OR they are disappointed because they have a “really close friend that is <insert any Asian ethnicity>” and I’m sure you probably know him/her.”

Seriously, look it up on YouTube.  There are TONS of parodies about this exact situation. Or listen to Ruby Ibera’s Circa91 album [v] – the entire thing. There are quite a few interludes between songs (think of The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill“) that are totally worth listening to, that provide a great example of growing up Asian American.

And then there are the stereotypes about Asians. Yes, I know every ethnicity / culture has them, [vi] and I’m sure you’re quite familiar with all of them as well. But FFS, let me respond to these stereotypes.

All Asians are NOT smart. They are NOT all doctors, nurses, engineers, or accountants. All Asians do NOT pass every test with A’s. [vii]

On the flip side, not all Asians are “lazy” and “don’t want to better themselves.” Yes, they may take on low-paying jobs — several at once, may I add — in order to provide a better life for themselves. If not for them, then certainly their children, parents, or siblings either here in the US or back home in their native land. They want to make sure that their family becomes successful because they DO NOT want them to take “dead end jobs.” They want them to have a profession with the ability to climb a career ladder.

No, they do NOT take up your slot in a university that you applied to. Or leadership positions, private business, job opportunity, for example. If anything, Asians often have to fight harder for what non-Asian persons have. Some of which entails omitting ethnicity to avoid being treated unjustly.

Not all Asians are “smart with their money” or “cheap” or “trying to low-ball you.” They are not “always trying to work a deal.” Not all Asians have nail salons, Asian grocery or party stores, or Chinese or Thai restaurants. Not all Asians eat dog meat.

Most of all (as of recently, that’s for sure), not ALL Asians are purposefully making “cheap” or “defective” clothing or electronics. Not ALL Asian countries are trying to sell you fake masks or other PPE.

And Asians are NOT purposefully trying to create a pandemic throughout the world by releasing a deadly virus that (thanks to the former “leader” of the free world) has been nicknamed “The China Virus” or “Kung Flu.”

Do you — as a human being — REALLY think that an entire ethnic group is THAT heartless and apathetic to the rest of the world? If so, then (IMHO) it takes one to know one.

Harsh, I know. But if the tables were turned and any other ethnicity / culture was saying things about Americans, imagine how you would feel.

I specifically mean words; not emotion. We already are bombarded with “you’re not patriotic” or “Go back home / to your own country.” As it is now, many Asian Americans feel that they are viewed as a “forever foreigner” despite being a US citizen by birthright. And yes, we are as “Patriotic” as any US citizen would be, regardless of any emotions (anger, hate) and actions (hate crimes, insurrection). [viii]

How would you respond if someone threw microaggressions [ix] your way? What would you want to DO about it? How would you defend your culture?

I ask these questions only to emphasize that Asians and Asian-Americans are constantly having to prove their worth in America.

And again, I want to emphasize that these actions & behaviors did not start at the onset of COVID-19, or even after the 2016 Election.

These actions, those words, the exclusion … they have been happening for decades.


[i] Kids under the age of 12 that immigrate are usually referred to as half-generation Asian Americans.

[ii] Fresh of the Boat (or “FOB” as most Asian Americans say). This refers to being new to America. “Boat” is used in reference to having traveled by the Trans-Pacific Ocean Liner. Many parents of 1st Gen Asian Americans born before the mid-80’s were FOBS, since Air Travel was very new at the time and expensive at that time. Now, the “B” has been known to replace “Boat” with “Boeing.”

[iii] I was constantly told that they (patients, families, friends of families) were surprised that I spoke English. I’ve even had some remark that they couldn’t understand me because my accent was so thick. Let me remind you, I grew up here. I don’t know Tagolog (the Filipino language). I speak perfectly clear English, thank you very much!

[iv] People that love “All Things Asian”

[v] IMHO Ruby Ibarra’s track, “Us” should be an anthem for every Filipina American girl out there.

[vi] Remember how I said — er, rather wrote that other countries view a “Typical American” as selfish, brash, and loud?

[vii] Prime example: I barely made it into Nursing School at Oakland University because I was one point away from failing my Microbiology prerequisite class.

[viii] And by “Patriotic,” I mean show and have pride for our country. Not the type of patriotism that believes “America needs to stay the same and not move forward” and/or “America is not the same way it used to be,” or “Change is a bad thing.” And certainly not the type of patriotism that promotes violence amongst its own people and government, More on this in the next (and final) post.

[ix] Microaggressions are “a statement, action, or incident regarded as an instance of indirect, subtle, or unintentional discrimination against members of a marginalized group.

Here are a few examples of micro-aggressive statements:

      • “Well, you didn’t grow up here in America, so you wouldn’t understand.”
      • “Huh, you don’t have an accent.”
      • “You should know. You’re <insert random Asian ethnicity> and you’re are all smart.”
      • “Can you read this <random ethnic restaurant>’s menu?”
      • “He/She <points to Asian friend> would know more about these things because he/she is Asian.

The One Where Emily Reflects on Asian-American Experiences

Random Acts of Crime-ness
Part Three in my ongoing series about Asian Americans

(Part One begins here)

I’m back like a bad habit. But as you can see, I’ve had a lot of emotions about being Filipino-American bundled inside me for many years. I figured that since I had a captive (??) audience, I could give you other experiences I’ve encountered. Take it as you would, my point in telling you these stories is to make others aware of what happens when you’ve been judged solely on the color of your skin and what your ethnicity is.

Let’s start out with the most recent incident. Three weeks ago, Hubby and I headed out to run some errands. It was strangely very sunny on this blustery day which made the scratch on our car much more apparent.

We knew for sure that scratch, extending from wheel to wheel on the driver’s side, was NOT there two days ago when we did our weekly grocery run. At first, we thought that a runaway grocery cart produced this scratch. However, on further inspection, it looked like someone deliberately took his/her key and ran it on our car as he/she was walking away.

TBH, Hubby and I tried not to read into things, but given the amount of violence against Asians these days, you never know. A person may have seen us exit our car and saw that we were Asian. Or they may have looked at my Subaru Forester be disgusted that it wasn’t an American car. Either way, it was more annoying, rather than unsettling; which is what I think this petty person was hoping to achieve.

Shortly after the 2016 Presidential Election, I never experienced so much vitriol and hate from another person. Since then, I’ve been told to go back to my own country several times.[i]  I’ve had several racial slurs directed at me[ii], though they could never get the actual ethnicity correct. I’ve cringed at news about racial disparity more so than I had in the past. It seemed as if the results of the 2016 Election gave others permission to spew such hate.[iii]  But let’s face it; prior to 2016 these type of Hate crimes for Asian Americans and any marginalized minority group have occurred throughout the history of America. In fact, I’ve had several instances where I was consciously aware that I was being “profiled;” of being the recipient of micro-aggressions.

As I mentioned before, I became consciously aware in high school that there were people in the world that saw and treated me inferior to them. After that realization, I began to reflect on other instances where I may have been singled out just because I was Asian.

Muffin
Here is “Early 80’s Emily”with our family beagle, Muffin

One of them was a popular childhood chant that aimed at Asian-Americans of Chinese or Japanese descent. While I won’t repeat it, it infers that these people had “dirty knees” and was therefore unclean. I remember certain classmates squinting their eyes while using their hands to perpetuate the stereotype that Chinese eyes slant upwards, while the Japanese eyes slant downwards.

The irony is that this rhyme speaks volumes about the exclusion of Asian Americans in the US. It’s a direct reference to the living conditions where Asian Americans lived. This silly childhood rhyme reveals the exclusion of Asian Americans by refusing to supply government services such as water and to the area where they reside.[iv]  Sadly, by passing this childhood rhyme down to kids, it continues to teach the next generation of children that exclusion is good.  It perpetuates their belief that Asians were inferior to Caucasians in America.

Around that same time period (specifically in June 1982), a young man named Vincent Chin was a victim of a hate crime, resulting in his death four days later. He was bludgeoned with a baseball bat.

This became national news at the time, yet I was oblivious to it until 1987 (the year I started *that* job) when Ron Ebens was cleared of any federal crime. That summer, I read everything I could about Vincent Chin’s death. I also tried to find information about other racially-motivated hate crimes. Sadly, at that time, my only way of obtaining information was to go to the library and use an *actual* card catalog to flip through random cards by various authors or subjects. The selection of books was very slim.

Chin Memorial FerndaleIf you can recall, in the late 70’s and early 80’s, the auto industry was in a slow, unequivocal free fall. The energy crisis had hit the industry particularly hard. Since Detroit is known as the “Motor City,” the birthplace of mass-produced cars, many autoworkers were facing wage-cuts and/or job eliminations.

In contrast, the Japanese auto industry was booming. Many Americans outside the auto industry were purchasing Hondas or Toyotas or Mazdas; Japanese brands that they felt were more efficient on gas and didn’t require as much maintenance or use as much gas as the Big Three[v] cars did.

Leading up to June of 1982 there was obvious animosity towards all Asian Americans. The encounter between Chin and Ebens & stepson, Michael Nitz began at a club.  Ebens called out to Chin, specifically stating, “It’s because of you little the m*therf*kers that we’re out of work.” Ebens, was clearly lumping Chin, a Chinese American, as a Japanese American.

A brawl ensued between the three resulted in the club’s security throwing al of them  out on the street. Chin made the mistake of challenging Ebens & Nitz to another fight. At that point, Ebens grabbed a baseball bat from Nitz’s car and both began to chase after Chin, who ran away on foot.

Ebens & Nitz spent 20 minutes looking for Chin, even paying another man $20 to help them find him. Chin was eventually found at a McDonald’s location close by. Nitz held Chin down as Ebens repeatedly bludgeoned Chin with the bat until his head split open. Sadly, Chin died 4 days later, never having gained consciousness. He was due to marry his fiancé later at the end of June.

A 1984 federal civil rights case against the men determined that Ebens was guilty; he was sentenced to 25 years in prison. Nitz was acquitted. In 1987, a retrial for Ebens (who’s conviction was overturned in 1986) was moved from Detroit to Cincinnati due to the publicity of this trial. At this trial, the Cincinnati jury cleared Ebens of all federal charges. Ebens never spent a night in prison.

As a result, the case is viewed as the critical turning point for Asian-American civil rights engagement. It also became a rallying cry to the federal government for the need for stronger federal hate crime legislation. In 1999, the Hate Crimes Prevention Act became federal law.

Today, there remains a memorial plaque placed on Woodward Avenue’s median just east of 9 Mile Road in Ferndale; where Chin worked at Golden Star Chinese Restaurant where he worked.[vi]  Not many Detroiters are aware of this plaque, thus indicating that Vincent Chin has been all but forgotten. At least until recently.

Vincent Chin is far from being the only instance of Asian American hate crimes. In 1975, Peter Yew was a victim of police brutality from the NYPD. The Stockton Schoolyard Massacre of 1989, where media and government focused on the need for better gun control; barely mentioning the deaths of five Vietnamese children in a mostly-Vietnamese elementary school. Hung Truon, a 15-yo Vietnamese boy from Katy, TX was kicked to death in 1991 by two teenagers while repeatedly shouting, “White Power.”

Then there’s Jim (Ming Hai) Loo, who in July 1989 – only two years after Ebens’ trial – who’s death was eerily similar to that Vincent Chin.

The reason why Vincent Chin’s story is still being told 40+ years later is not because of his death.[vii]  Rather, it remains the most prominent example of a modern day, post-civil rights, racially-motivated hate crime. This happened more that 30 years after the events in Little Manila; yet the reason behind such hate remains the same.

And it continues to this day

 


[i] Which I find ironic seeing that I was born here and AM in my own country

[ii] Also funny since they could never get the actual ethnicity correct. Am I Chinese? Am I Thai? Am I Latino? Yes, I’ve been mistaken for Latina several times that people have asked me if I can translate Spanish to English for them.

[iii] Basically, the government refused Asian Americans their basic Human Rights.

[iv] Lead by example, I’ve been taught. Sadly, the leadership at that time was heavily promoting bigotry, misogyny, disparity, identity, equity and other issues.

[v] For those unfamiliar, the Big Three are Ford, Chrysler and General Motors.

[vi] Currently Imperial Restaurant, known for their street-tacos (see it in the background?)

[vii] Nor is it simply due to recent hate crimes affecting Asian Americans