Ironically, I held no childhood compulsions to lay down my baby hairs. My hands were not trained with gel stiffened toothbrushes and precision, but with bright brittle crayons and youthful ease. You begin to notice that being so carefree isn’t inconsequential. You’re swept into swirls at the edges of western beauty. I was never good…
Category: Personal Essays
What Whiteness Is
Whiteness is sitting on the bus at the age of six, on your way to kindergarten, and being called “that weird chink kid” from a fifth grader sitting in the back. It’s the collective stares that all the kids give you, the American kids who come from big, loving homes full of families who speak…
A Response to Varsity Blues
I scroll through my Facebook newsfeed, but my thumb stops moving across the screen when I see it: an FBI investigation about admissions fraud at Yale University. The “Yale Memes for Special Snowflake Teens” page fills with memes on photoshopping students into athletic photos and paying $400,000 for admission. Friends, former teachers, and classmates share…
Lower Your Gaze
Typically, when men stare at her, she begins to worry. At five foot two and 120 pounds, she recognizes how often her body is read as a threat — notably brown skin, almond-colored eyes framed with thick lashes, and a black hijab carefully draped in place. By looking at her, most people can predict that…
Two Words
“You’re in America – speak English!” I felt the sprinkles of spit hit my arm. Whipped my head to the right. All I could do was watch as a scowling seventy-something year old Caucasian man huffed away – an expression full of hate and an air of self-righteousness. My mom’s voice on the phone seemed…