Our Roots

This post is dated January 3, 2016 however, I'm just posting it today, November 5, 2017 (It's been sitting in draft status all this time).  I have written so little in such a long time.  Moment after moment, lesson after lesson just fly by.  Though this is from a year and a half ago, I don't want to lose the lesson.  A lesson that seems timely considering Hmong New Year is just around the corner.

January 3, 2016
Today was a first for TeamHer.  We dressed up in Hmong clothing (well, we each wore an article that had Hmong embroidery on it) for New Year at church.  After the festivities, I taught Ayden how to re-pleat her Hmong skirt for safe storage until the next New Year.  Although I have done this very rarely in my youth, going through this process brought back a flood of memories and emotions.

I have fond and vivid memories of the time I spent with my grandma Vang.  My recollection is that we shared many moments gardening and doing needle work, but I am sure we probably only did it a few times.  Despite my distorted memory, what remains is that I learned how to ua paaj ntaub (Hmong embroidery) from her.  It was this process of learning that connected me to not only my grandmother but also my Hmong identity.

Needle work was not a "craft" back in Laos.  It was a necessity.  You had to know how to make thread from plants, weave the thread into cloth, dye the materials, and embroider using cross stitching.  This skill was vital for two reasons.  First and foremost, this was the only way to get clothes (if you had money you could buy clothing but most Hmong were farmers and could not afford this luxury). Second, it was a way to be industrious and make money.  When women were not cooking, tending to the children, or in the fields, they were making clothing.  Women often had one set of clothes which they wore to the New Year celebration and another which they wore everyday (less fancy version of their New Year’s outfit but similar in look).

Kong and I often talk about how quickly a family's history gets lost.  In just two generations, the struggles of our parents are just stories.  Our girls hear the words however, the intense emotions connected to those words are gone.  I have so little to show my girls about where they come from, their history, and who they are.  As we continue to achieve economic success, they identify more with being middle class Americans and grow further and further away from their cultural roots.

I understand that cultures evolve, change, and adapt so I am not surprised at what I am seeing however, there is a little part of me that is sad.  In just another generation, my grandfather Yang's legacy as a Colonel in the Secret War, my mother-in-law's story as a 14-year-old nurse caring for injured soldiers, my father-in-law’s role in US Aid, my parent's role in World Vision, and all those who lost their lives in the evacuation will only be stories.  Stories missing bits and pieces which could never paint the truth about loss, pain, suffering, love, and hope.

As Ayden and I sat quietly working on our skirts, I could not help but miss my grandma Vang.  I thought about how we take the moments we have with those we love for granted and our inability to recognize the impact of those moments on our identity.  I hope one day, when Ayden sees a perfectly bundled and re-pleated Hmong skirt, that she thinks about the day we shared and the hours spent quietly working.  I don't know what this moment impressed upon her, but my wish is that she finds a little piece of herself and her identity.

Threading the needle

Stitching each pleat back together using just a needle and thread

Pulling the thread through the pleat

A Wonderful Surprise

The Girls:  Jacklyn, Poungcha, Taylor, Lauryn, Ayden and Julia

Sometimes, when I think about how much I love children, I am overwhelmed with sadness.  Late at night, when the house is quiet, my heart fills with an indescribable feeling of longing for a household of kids.  I know that I have two biological children and that some people have none.  And it's not that I do not see how blessed I am, I really do.  Yet, that doesn't lessen the sorrow that I feel.  However, today, I had an 'a ha' moment.  Not the kind of moment where your consciousness finally aligns with what you have been told about something powerful.  This 'a ha' moment filled my soul in a way I have never felt before.

This past week, Kong and I accumulated a troop of teenage and preteen girls.  We had been staying up too late, eating too much, and playing way too hard.  After a long day of running other family members to doctors appointments, taking kids to activities, and fulfilling community obligations, we finally came home to the most beautiful and heartwarming surprise.  A birthday party our girls threw for Kong.

The girls started their day with a trip to the Mall of America (MOA).  After being kicked out of the mall for not being chaperoned by an adult (Jackie is 18 but apparently that was not sufficient for mall security), the girls decided to take the lightrail train home instead of calling to bother us for a ride (even though neither of us would have been able to accommodate).  Once home, they hatched a plan for a surprise birthday party for their dad/uncle.  By themselves, they got to the store, bought a cake, ice cream, a card, sparklers, and decorations for the house and then took public transportation home.  They then decorated the house and waited patiently for us to come home from our last event, of which we were late.  When their dad/uncle walked into the house, they jumped up from behind the center island, turned on the lights, and yelled surprise, Happy Birthday!

Indeed he was surprised.  The girls had paid for everything out of their own pockets, they carried a cake on the bus and they did all of this without anyone asking them to.  What touched me most was the beautiful cake and card which read, "From your 6 kids".  The cake also had an image representing us and each one of them.  My heart nearly burst.

 

 

Today, I learned two important lessons.  One, I need to worry less.  I eventually came to understand that my big girl paid for much of the transportation for her cousins and most of the party expenses by herself.  I often question if I have taught my kids the "right" things and whether I have modeled generosity, compassion, thoughtfulness, or understanding for my kids especially because I too am still working on these traits and sometimes model the opposite.  As I have stumbled through motherhood, I might have done better than I give myself credit for.

Two, I realize that while I may have only birthed two kids, I have so many more children than that.  I am a mother to all of these amazing young cousins, nieces, and nephews.  Hearing the girls retell their adventures of the day (which included their struggle with the lightrail ticket machine, the confectionery lady's look when they asked to have 6 kids drawn on the cake, the crusty check out lady at Target, and the strange looks from passengers on the train and bus coming home) and listening to each person's story as we reminisced about the past (Julia and Lauryn's separation anxiety when they were babies, Poungcha and Kongmongs extreme dislike of each other when they were young and how this has transformed into them being really "tight" in the words of Poungcha; how Jackie, because of proximity, was my first baby which I often stole from her parents to babysit), my heart was filled with contentment.

I am continually reminded of how God works and how his plan is often different than the plans I have for myself.  I am truly blessed and lucky beyond belief to have these beautiful souls in my life. Thank you girls.

Complete with streamers and all.

Truly a surprise.  Great job girls.

How they ended the evening.  Kong asleep and the girls being themselves.

Anna May Wong Who?

Rocking it Anna May Wong style

I'm not sure how many people feel the same way I do but I dreaded spirit week when I was growing up.  Every daily theme (except miss match day) was a struggle.  I'm sure this had something to do with the fact that I was poor.  I barely had enough clothes to rotate for the week let alone have extra stuff lying around to put together for spirit week.

Anyway, now that my kids no longer attend Montessori, we are presented with all of the "normal" school stuff that kids experience.  This week, the dreaded (for me, not my kiddo) spirit week.  Monday was pajama day (something I never understood because when you are poor, your regular clothes are your pajamas), Tuesday was Hollywood day, and today is miss match day.

Hollywood day posed a unique challenge for us.  Many kids had plans to come to school dressed as characters from movies.  As we prepared on Monday night, Ayden said to me, "Mom, what am I supposed to dress like?  No one in Hollywood or no characters that kids know look like me.  If I dress up, no one will make the connection.  That is unless I go as Mulan.  I don’t have a lot of options.”  (End sentence with a heavy sigh because she has first world problems).  Digging back into my archive of cool Asian things, I remembered a post by 18Million on Anna May Wong.  I showed Ayden some pictures and we read Anna May's bio.  She was sold.  We put together an ensemble that we hoped looked 1920ish. 

After school on Tuesday, I asked Ayden about her day.  She said no one knew who Anna May Wong was but it didn't matter to her.  She had a great day being someone who did something unheard of in a time when people who looked like her were not included or accepted and when the idea of beauty did not include Asian women.  Ayden had a wonderful day being a woman who was ahead of the times.  She wore Anna May Wong loudly and proudly.

Fresh Off the Boat True to Life

When I watched the CLC episode of Fresh Off the Boat, I laughed so hard I cried.  It's a funny episode but funny enough for tears?  I eventually came to understand that I was half laughing and half crying.  Laughing because it was funny but crying at the realization that I am that mom. And in real life, it's not so funny.  Think I am being too hard on myself?  Think again.

Ayden made Principal's Honor Roll (3.9 - 4.0).  Out of the whole six grade, only 23 kids received this honor.  She was also named student of the month in January. Her gym teacher had a great write up as to why he choose her as his student of the month.  It read:

"Ayden Her earned my Student of the Month honor for being her tremendous self, every single day!  Ayden is a very mature, responsible, personable, fun, polite and proud student-athlete.  Ayden is also a very good advocate for herself and does a great job of communicating her needs, limitations and goals with me for class.  Ayden puts in a lot of effort outside of school as an elite gymnast.  She could very easily sit out or not put energy into physical education, but she plays harder than anyone when she is far from 100%.  Ayden really values and appreciates the opportunity to be active and I am thankful I have her in class to help set a great tone and example for her peers and myself.  Thank you for being such an excellent student and participant, Ayden!"

Though I was very happy for Ayden and told her how proud I was of her, all I could think of was why she wasn't nominated for student of the month in an academic class.  I mean she got straight A's, right?  Any one of her other teachers could have nominated her as well.  Oh yeah, maybe this is why.

When Kong and I showed up to Ayden's parent teacher conference, it didn't go so well.  The first reason was because her homeroom teacher was ill prepared.   She didn't have any print outs on Ayden's grades or academic progress nor did she have any of Ayden's work to present to us.  There was no feedback from any of her other teachers and there was no opportunity at the conference to meet with them.  The teacher didn't even have a writing instrument and paper to take down notes from our conference. I was not shy about my displeasure with all of this.

The second reason was that the teacher said the worse thing you could possibly say to an Asian mom, "Ayden is getting straight A's and has no behavioral problems so everything is fine."  Why is this so bad?  Well, if no one can provide me with any progress information, examples of her work, or feedback on areas of development, how do I know how she is really doing?  If a kid gets straight A's, are they really being challenged?  Is she working up to her full potential?  And when is "fine" ever the standard to shoot for?  Yeah, the teacher had no answers.  Just pure confusion about what the problem was.



It pretty much played out like that scene from Fresh Off the Boat but with WAY more intensity.  I had become that Asian parent with super high expectations of my kid.  She goes to school all day, leaves immediately for gymnastics, comes home to do homework, and is often up until 11pm or midnight to stay on top of her grades.  Once or twice a year, I allow her to be in some type of production (theater or film).  I don't know how we squeeze it in but we do.  

Am I terrible or just trying to give my kid every opportunity possible?  Are my expectations unrealistic?  I don't know.  I mean, Eddie Huang turned out fine, right?  Maybe my kid will too.  Only time will tell. I am crossing my fingers. 

Explaining Slut, Whore, and Ho to my Middle Schooler

11th Birthday.  Get ready middle school!

Today when Ayden and I were showering (Yes, my jr high child still showers with me.  It was something I consciously decided with my girls.  I never wanted them to be ashamed of their bodies or be embarrassed about nudity.  A post for another day) she told me that she heard kids using the F word.  She asked me what it meant.  I told her that it is a really bad word and that she shouldn’t use it.  When she is old enough, I’ll tell her what the word means.  This lead to us into a conversations about other words she has been exposed to since graduating to middle school.

A:  Mom, there’s this word, I think it’s “slug” or something like that.  Why do people use that word as a swear word?  Oh, and I also heard the word “wore”.  Do you know what those words are?

K:  Yes, those are words that men call women who date and kiss (she doesn’t know people have sex for recreation yet) a lot of boys.  Interesting because when men date and kiss a lot of girls, we don’t call them similar mean names.  We say things like “He’s got game” or “Player” like it’s a game and he’s good at it.  We are a society that demonizes women for the same behavior we applaud men for.  We call that sexism.

A:  That’s not right.  You know, mom, there’s this other word.  It’s like the garden tool.  I can’t recall what it is.  

K:  You mean “ho”.  

A:  Yeah, “hoe”.  What does that word mean?

K:  Well, “ho” is the slang of “whore”.  Ho, whore, and slut are all words used to describe women negatively and they all have a similar meaning.  

A:  Don’t they call men “man-slut”?  

K:  Yes but it is a relatively new term and it really just loops back to how we view women.  When we use that term, we are in essence saying he is as bad as a woman who dates a lot of men.  We are still not holding that man accountable.

A:  That is interesting mom.

K:  You know, women also help uphold our sexist and patriarchal culture.  That’s why being conscious of this and standing up when we hear these words being used is really important.

A:  What would I say?

K:  You can say, “Hey, that’s not an appropriate term.  Do you understand how sexist that word is?  Slut shaming is not oaky.  Especially not at school.”

A:  I’m never going to remember that mom.  Maybe I can just tell them using that type of hurtful word in a school environment is not appropriate.

K:  You just say what sits right with you.  It’s practice.  The more we learn to stand up, the easier it will get. 

My initial thought was, how is it possible that my kiddo is so naïve and innocent?  How is it that she is in middle school and this is the first time she has heard these words?  Then I thought, I’m glad it has taken this long.  She will have a lifetime of hearing the negative words people use to hurt each other.  Ah yes, a conversation about race and Ferguson with Kiddo #1 and sexism with kiddo #2, the life of a mom ain’t easy.

Blackfish Reflection

Kong and I watched Blackfish last night. It was heartbreaking.  After the movie we could not help but wonder why SeaWorld made the decisions that it did and why they put human beings in danger in the way that they did.  The only thing we could think of was economics. 

I am not judging SeaWorld.  People are willing to consume which is why it exists.  It is just for Kong and me, this movie really struck a chord.  It made us think about an incident that happened when our girls were much younger. 

About seven years ago we attempted to take the girls to the circus.  As we were walking into the Target Center there were protesters with posters and signs showing images of circus animals in inhumane conditions.  I watched the eyes of my then 7 year old widen and her smile diminish.  I remember her asking me what the protest was about.  In the 5 minutes that I had, we talked about the perspective of the protesters.  Taylor decided on the spot that she did not want to participate in keeping wild animals in captivity and forcing them to perform for entertainment.  Needless to say, we did not attend the circus that day.  Since then we have not gone to a zoo, the circus, or any venue that keeps wild animals in captivity. 

Understand that this post is not meant to judge people who frequent this type of venue.  I have very fond memories of going to the circus with my family.  I have heard the pros and cons of captivity.  How it is the only way to keep species going extinct alive.  I'm not saying there is a right or a wrong answer.  Like all things worth thinking about, it is complicated.

For our family, wild beasts are magnificent and powerful and should not be contained.  There are a lot of things we can cut out in addition to zoos and circuses so as not to be hypocrites, however, realistically, it is highly unlikely that we can cut out everything.  We are by no means tree huggers or PETA members but if with each small act we can make the world a better place for its inhabitants, why not try?