VOL. I
-WELCOME-
Koyuki Sakurada Stephanie Davis Kara Eng Christie Huang Ilana Friedman Laurence Diarra
-TABLE OF CONTENTS-
-POETRY- “Asian-American, A Poem” by Ocean Gao What does it mean to have a hyphenated race? “Asian-American,” it means you don’t fit in anywhere. In America, I’m Chinese In China, I’m American. Where do I belong? Nowhere, no place, no room for the in-between. Politics: to the right or to the left? Sexuality: are you “straight” or are you “gay”? Gender: are you “male” or are you “female”? You have. to pick. a side. Chinese? American? Chinese? American? I feel American, My friends call me a “twinkie” or a “banana” – whatever the fuck that means I didn’t know you could be “white on the inside” Aren’t we all the same inside? A mesh of guts and organs and bones and DNA But no strain of DNA that codes my race, no combination of adenine, thymine, cytosine, guanine that reads “Asian” -A social construct. One that gets me made up Chinese sounds hissed Ching chong, pan fried rice. Not white, not as good, go back home to China. Singled out, called upon, expectations differed. But I’m American, born and raised. My mom’s not a “tiger mom” and I grew up just like you! Not white, but a person of color A person of color that affirmative action works against, despite the beliefs of many. Take the SAT, fill out the Asian bubble. “Oh look, another Asian, but not as good as the other ones.” My mom says she’s proud of her race and proud of her ethnicity. I tell her I am too, except all the times I wished I were white, wished I could be pretty like them, look like them, be treated like them, be one of them. Shame, shame, ashamed of being ashamed Why can’t I be proud? In the cycle of oppression, I can’t even remember the beginning stages, and I’m left with only the internalized… Internalized oppression that embarrasses me of my culture, wished I could be pretty like them, look like them, be treated like them, be one of them. Shame, shame, ashamed of being ashamed
Why can’t I be proud? In the cycle of oppression, I can’t even remember the beginning stages, and I’m left with only the internalized… Internalized oppression that embarrasses me of my culture, Internalized oppression that outcasted me when I left my public school for a white, wealthy, private school, Internalized oppression that makes me embarrassed of who I am. The Chinese Exclusion Act was repealed in 1943, but I guess that the 60 years it was valid still lives on, around me, inside me, knowing on my bones and I wonder and I worry, when does that become an inherent part of me? The Asian tourists on the subway chatter loudly with sounds people have never heard, gather for group photos unnoticing the stares they receive and I roll my eyes and wonder why they “make us all look bad.” One day, my field hockey team’s dress up was tourist. I dressed like a tourist, and went about the day being told, “oh, you look so Asian.” The next day, the dress up was school girl. “Ocean, you look like someone from anime!” and again, the notorious, “oh, you look so Asian.” Well, guess what, I fucking AM Asian and I’m American too. Both, not neither. Because race is not in black and white Nor is gender, nor is sexuality. There is room for the in between. I know that, and I will make sure you know that. I will fight my internalized oppression, I will ignore what they say, I will combat the ignorance but learn to forgive it as well, And I will forgive myself. And I will speak up because I’ve spent too long in silence, I’ve spent too long putting up with, to put it simply, everyone else’s bullshit. So I will speak. I will be loud. And I will make sure I am heard.
-POETRY- On Being Asian-American by Koyuki Sakurada I am apart of a community of fresh-off-the-boats, who have one foot on the boat and one foot on land. I am Asian-American, torn in between maintaining my old culture an adopting another. Torn in between remembering my ancestors in the book of history and heritage and starting a new chapter by creating my own identity. I used to to look in the mirror and all I would see are differences. Why didn’t I match? Reading books, poetry, watching TV, going to the movies... When will my eyes stop being almonds, and just simply become eyes? When will my skin stop being porcelain, and just simply become skin? When will my differences stop being seen and when when when will my humanity finally be valued? When will I stop being that kung-fu master you see in the movies? Or that dragon lady? Or that geisha? When will these endless generalizations end? It will end now. Because I refuse.to be your submissive, quiet, obedient, fragile doll who will allow her feet to be bound by the Chinese words you tattooed onto your arm, or by the chopsticks you hold your hair up with as a fashion statement, or the way you shame the food I eat, the way I talk, the way I act, the way I honor and respect my heritage. Because I am not ashamed and I will not be quiet.
-FOOD- The Chinese method of cooking is quite different from typical Western cooking. Cooking is based off of instinct and experience. Recipes are rarely written down, and are instead passed down through the generations as parents teach children. Thus, all recipes included here estimates.
Recipe: Wontons By Vivienne Li
Ingredients
Instructions
I Finely chop shrimp and mix in a large bowl with the pork and sliced scallions.
-1/2 pound ground pork
II Toss in the ginger, garlic, soy sauce, rice wine,
-1/2 pound shelled and deveined shrimp
sesame oil, and salt and mix until the filling reaches
-1 teaspoon minced ginger
a paste consistency.
-1 clove of garlic (finely minced) -1-2 stalks of scallions (finely sliced) -2 teaspoons soy sauce -1 tablespoon Chinese rice wine -1 teaspoon sesame oil -salt to taste -wonton wrappers as needed
Recipe: Dumplings
III Wrap the wontons. IV Boiling the wontons. V Use a large slotted spoon to place the wontons into a bowl. Serve with your choice of dipping sauce (ex: soy sauce or vinegar).
Instructions
-½ tablespoon Sesame Seed Oil
I Mix minced pork and water in a large bowl. II Add in minced ginger and onion. III Add oils, salt, and soy sauce. IV Saran wrap bowl and let it marinate for 20 min. V While marinating, grate carrots. VI Stir fry carrots in 4 tablespoons of oil. VII Take out carrots, chop finely, and let cool. VIII Once carrots conpletely cool, mix pork and
-1 table spoon Olive Oil
carrots together.
By Koyuki Sakurada
Ingredients -8 oz Pork -½ tablespoon Salt -1 tablespoon Soy Sauce -1 Egg -½ tablespoon Chicken Broth Powder
-2 sticks chopped Green Onion
IX Wrap dumplings. X Boil dumplings. XI Serve on a plate. Serve with your choice of dip-
-2 slices of Ginger
ping sauce (ex: soy sauce or vinegar).
-¾ cup Water -4-5 shaved Carrots
-足FOOD-足
-MEMOIRS- American or Chinese: The life of an ABC By Sydney Chin The smell of smoke, red paper flying in the air, and thundering drums weren’t uncommon around January and February as 春节 (Chunjie) or 过年 (Guonian) or 中国新年 (Zhongguo Xinnian) [all words for Chinese New Year] hit. When I was a young child, my parents always brought my brother and me to Chinatown or 中 国城 (Zhongguocheng) to have our New Year dim sum. Westerners (aka white people) would deem what we ate as strange, but to me it was completely normal. Glassy red chicken feet were in a small bowl to my left while pork buns were to my right. The smell of 小笼包 (xiaolongbao,a special type of dumpling) filled the air. Congee or jauk with pig blood (a type of rice soup dish) was steaming in front of my face. The metal carts and clanging dishes made for a musical melody as various families chattered in Cantonese. New Year’s dim sum consisted of family time with my aunt’s and my uncle’s families. The adults conversed in Canton or 关东发 (Guangdongfa--the Mandarin way of saying it) or Guandongwa, leaving me clueless as my parents only taught me English. Even as a six year old, I felt barred from my own culture by not being able to speak in Canton, Guangdongwa, or whatever my mother called it--- will I ever be Chinese enough? Am I Chinese? I’m American, I guess. Maybe, I’m like those white kids at school...nah. Over the course of Chinese brunch (aka dim sum), I’d ask my mother multiple times: “What are they saying?” It wasn’t an uncommon question for an ABC (American Born Chinese) like myself, who lived in a neighborhood of staunch , white houses. My 爷爷 and call me 陈雪儿 (Chenxueer [the Mandarin pronunciation] or Chunxutyi [the Canton pronunciation] meaning lovely); I’ve always grown up with two names--one for school (obviously my English name Sydney) and one for family (my Chinese name). The two names I have mirror the balancing scale that I constantly play with--to find the real me. Two names equating to two vastly different cultures---the far East and the wild West. The struggle between attempting to be white or trying to be Chinese--never fully one or the other. trying to be Chinese Am I Chinese? Am I Chinese-American? Am I Ameri- can? How will I ever know? I’m supposed to be Chi- nese, then why don’t I act like it? Am I a twinkie or a banana because I’m white on the inside but yellow on the outside?
In my pink cheongsam, which was embroidered with the same symbol that looked like a hieroglyph to a six year old, I would peer through the window to look at the lion dance parade outside. Boom! Bang! Crack! Boom! Pat! Bang! Crack! I covered my ears as an attempt to block out the horrifying warlike sounds. My 爷爷(yeye meaning dad’s dad) 和 (he--meaning and)妈妈 (nainai meaning dad’s mom) spoke to me in a tongue I could barely recognize while 红包(hongbao meaning lucky red envelopes) were given out to each of the grandchildren. For a six year old, this was Christmas 2.0, but better! As I spotted the lucky red envelopes, my eyes lit up like fireflies. I proceeded to tell my relatives : “新年快了!” (Happy New Year) or “Gong Hei Fat Choy!” (the Canton way of saying Happy New Year) or “身体健康，恭喜发财!” ( “Sun Tai Gen Hong”the Canton way of saying Have good health and a good year!). Since my dad is a celebrity in Chinatown, random residents would stop my brother and me to give us 红 包. They’d pinch his chipmunk cheeks while they noted how much of a “great student I was” in a language I never grasped.. Unlike other ABCs I knew as a young girl, my math skills weren’t up to par. How’s that for fitting the stereotype? The supposed “model minority”---not so much. This mold formed by the elders around me only barred me from feeling like I belonged. Am I truly Chinese? Am I white because I’m bad at math? The old lady asked me: “What are you going to be when you grow up?” I answered in my high-pitched voice: “I want to be an artist!” The elderly lady frowned at me as I finished my sentence. Clearly, I didn’t fit the “model minority”! Not exact- ly a mathlete... This moment began a lifetime journey of struggling between trying to conform into a mold and attempting to find my own corner of the sky. It wasn't just this one instance, but this moment served as a catalyst for my search to find my place in my world.
-MEMOIRS- Grandma’s Curry By Kara Eng My grandma makes the best curry. You may think I’m exaggerating, but I am not. Her curry is a perfect blend of creamy and savory, without too much spice. It is the most perfect dish over rice, and has become a staple of the Eng family. Every time my dad’s side of the family has a get-together, she makes a pot full of it. Even those of us who are off in college get a frozen portion, carefully saved for their next visit home. Unfortunately for us, we all have a ravenous hunger for it. Each of us tries to finish quickly so that we can beat the others to seconds. But the pot that my grandmother cooks her curry in is woefully small. There is never enough. Despite numerous attempts to recreate the recipe, nothing that my mother or my aunt’s have produced can compare. My grandmother doesn’t cook with measurements. She cooks in the Chinese way. It’s always a pinch of this and a little bit of this. You have to have all the right ingredients. Experience and instinct are essential if you want to make it correctly. But how does one gain the experience of cooking it right when you need that experience to cook it right? I don’t know how to cook. At best, I can make pasta that isn’t too hard, but not quite soft enough. My only experience with following a recipe is reading the instructions off the back of a cake mix. When I microwave or toast pre-cooked meals, I follow the instructions exactly. I don't trust my own judgement to know when to stop or continue to cook microwavable mac and cheese. During the few times that I help my mom make dinner, I’m terrified that I’ll give my family salmonella because I undercooked the meat. In short, despite my mother’s constant attempts to teach me, I am inept in the kitchen. My mom learned to cook while she was in high school. She didn’t learn to cook from her mother (my other grandmother refused to cook), she learned it during Home Ec. “It was a fun class. It gave you practical knowledge like cooking and sewing. My mom didn’t know how to cook, so I learned at school,” says Janice Eng. But where do we, as Westridge girls, learn to cook? There isn’t a Home Ec class for us. No classes, clubs, or outside courses are offered besides the occasional cooking adventure in lower and middle school afterschool programs. Most of our time is taken up by sports, theater, or homework. There are cooking classes, but for those of us in after school activities, we can’t find the time. Whenever I get free time, I spend it reading or watching TV. Cooking doesn’t rank high enough on my list of favorite hobbies in order to merit the amount of precious free time it would absorb.
But where do we, as Westridge girls, learn to cook? There isn’t a Home Ec class for us. No classes, clubs, or outside courses are offered besides the occasional cooking adventure in lower and middle school afterschool programs. Most of our time is taken up by sports, theater, or homework. There are cooking classes, but for those of us in after school activities, we can’t find the time. Whenever I get free time, I spend it reading or watching TV. Cooking doesn’t rank high enough on my list of favorite hobbies in order to merit the amount of precious free time it would absorb. Recently I got my grandmother to recite her recipe on video. The video is not of her cooking, it is just of her talking about the recipe and how to cook the curry, with numerous interjections from my aunt, who, through trial and error, learned how to clarify her mother’s instructions. I doubt I’ll be able to make it. The last time I tried to cook any type of curry, it took me 45 minutes. The sauce came in little pre made cubes. All I had to do was add chicken and potatoes. How can someone who can barely cook precooked meals succeed where women who have been cooking for longer than I’ve been alive failed? It seems like our generation of women, the empowered ones, just isn’t taking the time to learn how to cook. But I am not without hope. While history is closing its door on mandatory classes that enforce gender roles, it opens new resources for our generation. We can go on google and easily look up a video on how to brown a chicken. We can save videos of our grandmothers talking about their recipes instead of having to rely on index cards with the recipes written in unintelligible cursive on them. The traditions of passing down recipes is being changed by the modern world, but can Chinese recipes be passed down this way? The traditional way of Chinese cooking isn’t easy to replicate in videos or in recipes. Chinese cooking relies on instinct and the flexibility of the cook. With so many resources and technology available to us, where does cooking list on our list of priorities? Will our recipes, our culture, be passed down from generation to generation when so much of our traditions are being changed or replaced by new technology and thinking? The world is transforming and no one knows which cultural aspects will survive the changes.
-TRAVEL-
Natalie Pearson spent her summer traveling through parts of Asia. Here is her journey captured in photos. The overnight train is a common way for Chinese people to travel across the coun- try. In the photo, one can see the “hard sleepers,” which are the less expensive beds.
During a homestay with a family in a vil- lage located just outside Tibet, Monks perform the Milarepa Dance during the traditional Buddhist festival in July.
Tuyoq, famous for their grapes and dried fruits, is a small, Muslim village. It is lo- cated outside of Turpan on the outskirts of the Taklamakan desert. Tuyoq is also home to the “second mecca” or the “Asian mecca,” which can be seen in the image (blue domed building).
-TRAVEL-
The Id Kah mosque is the largest mosque in China. It’s located in Kashgar in the Xinji- ang province. The men and women in the picture are wearing a traditional hat called the duppa.
The Muslim Wuarter in Xi’an. Xi’an was the capital of China because of its central posi- tion in the country and is very diverse reli- giously. The Muslim Quarter is comprised of several busy streets filled with stores and vendors that sell Muslim food such as lamb, noodles, pastries, and dates.
A picture of the un-renovated area of the Great Wall taken after a long hike up.
-ART- The Art of Papercutting by Abigail Kornafel
A traditional Chinese art form, paper cutting began during the 6th Century for religious purposes. During ceremonies, women would apply silver and foil cuttings to their hair while men used them for sacred rituals. Created with paper and scissors or an engraving knife, these works of art required steadiness and patience. Today, paper cuttings are used as decorations for festivals like Chinese New Year. Paper cutings represent different aspects of life, such as prosperity and health. Some contain different characters for specific occasions. For example, for birthdays for the elderly, the character “shou” 寿 is often included. To try it out, I found traditional Chinese cut outs to replicate. Although the X-acto Knife helped to speed up the process, I definitely could tell that having more experience would lead to cleaner and more complex shapes!
-TRADITIONS-
Chinese vs. American New Yeas by Christie Huang I associate myself with two different cultures, Chinese and American. The two have very different cultures, but I have learned so much from both and in turn be able to look at the world in different perspectives. One aspect of the different cultures is how New Year is celebrated. Chinese New Year and American New Year each have a very different vibe, but both are very fun to celebrate. During Chinese New Year it is very hectic, as my family goes all out. My family starts preparing for the holiday weeks in advance. The house is cleaned to welcome in the good luck and wash away the bad. There is a room in my house that is dedicated to praying to the difdif ferent Buddhas, and on the day of Chinese New Year, the room is usually filled with different vegetarian dishes and colorful candles both big and small. The day starts out early in the morning, hectic with prepartion for creating a feast for the room full of Buddhas. The whole house is filled with the scent of my grandmother’s cooking, which is very rare as my grandmother seldom cooks and only cooks for the Buddhas on Chinese New Year’s to make them happy. As my grandmother cooks the three main dishes, my aunt decorates them using carrots and radishes to make flowers, and parsley to create the leaves. After all the preparations are made and on the table, the family all piles into the Buddha room to invite the the Gods to come and feast on the food we have prepared, meanwhile asking to bless us with a happy and healthy year. The food is left out for the rest of the day for the Buddhas to feast until evening, where my family helps to prepare the dishes that have been eaten by the Bhuddhas for dinner.
After dinner, my grandmother gives out the red envelopes filled with money that she has prepared for us, and my parents give her the red envelopes they have prepared for her. The idea of Chinese New Year for my family is very centralized on the idea of welcoming in good luck. The reason for the big preparations are so we can please the different Buddhas in hope that they will in return bless us throughout the year with good health, luck, prosperity, and happiness. The idea behind red envelopes isn’t about the money, but more about wishing and blessing each other the things we hope the different Gods will bless us with. Whereas Chinese New Year is centralized on praying to the Bhuddhas, American New Year is more centralized on family time throughout the day. On the day of New Year my whole family gathers at my grandmothers house, and spend the day in each others company having fun. The adults talk with each other, and the kids go off and play together throughout the day. Ten minutes before 12:00 arrives, we gather around the TV watching the news report from New York. When the ball drops, we all hug each other congratulating for living through another year and wishing each other a happy prospering year, but the meaning is a little bit less significant compared to when it is said on Chinese New Year. Balancing modern American traditions and Chinese roots can be at times challenging, but I think that it is this specific challenge that really shapes each family, and each individual. The difference of these two cultures is what makes me the person I am. The different rules and expectations of being apart of both cultures really defines how I act, and my personality. It is a privillege to be able to be apart of both communities; both cultures are very important to me and I am really glad that I was able to grow up in both.
-SUMMER OPPORTUNITIES- Study Chinese Abroad by Stephanie Davis Learning a language takes day in, day out practice and study, which means that when you come back to school in the fall, you might not remember all of the chinese you’ve studied previously. So what can you do, besides hunching over your textbook while everyone else enjoys their summer vacation? Here are a couple exciting ideas that are both fun and help you maintain your proficiency this summer. What is the best place to enhance your chinese skills? China, of course. Summer abroad and immersion programs are the perfect way to immensely develop your fluency, and also experience Chinese culture alongside other students who share your passion for learning mandarin. Luckily, there is no shortage of study abroad programs available for high school students. Where There Be Dragons offers multiple opportunities to prospective mandarin students to spend sometime in various places in China during the summer. There are four language immersion programs which allow participants to intern in China, travel the country, and of course spend time learning and practicing mandarin. However, this programs will cost money if you are accepted. Nevertheless if you are looking for a way to hone your fluency and still experience many parts of China, looking into an immersion summer program at Where There be Dragons just might be for you. If you prefer to stay grounded, and focus more on experiencing one city while increasing your knowledge of mandarin, Go Abroad China may be a more suitable trip for you. Here there are a plethora of options for high school mandarin students-volunteer opportunities, internships, one-on-one tutors, that all come with staying with a host family in Beijing, China’s capital, or Shanghai. Most of these programs also come with multiple field trips and excursions to see some of China’s amazing landmarks. Go Abroad China also comes with a price tag, so keep this in mind if you are seriously considering these options. Lastly, for summer abroad programs, the highly competitive National Security Language Initiative for Youth (NSIL-Y) is a State Department funded program that sends select American high school students in various languages and proficiencies, and sends them on an eight-week immersion course in their language. If selected, you are sent anywhere in China or Taiwan, and will stay with a host family during the duration of your program. NSIL-Y also offers multiple chances to sight-see and learn about China’s rich culture and long history, and of course has an intensive, immersive course in mandarin that will greatly improve your fluency in the language. One thing to keep in mind with NSIL-Y, however, is that the applications are due the November before your summer trip, so you must plan far in advance if you want to apply.
-SUMMER OPPORTUNITIES- Overseas Volunteering Experience by Amanda Milley This past summer I had the amazing opportunity to volunteer in the Shan Xi province at an English summer camp for kids 6 to 16. Every week a new bus of kids would unload at camp, coming from both villages surrounding us and the city, each about two hours away. The next week was full of learning English, but also water gun fights, guitar playing, intense basketball games, bike rides, and a camp fire. I taught an intermediate English class, focusing on learning how to give directions, make comparisons, and overall grammar. It was amazing to be teaching a language, and in doing so, utilizing the Mandarin I had learned. At the same time that my students were learning English, I was struggling to learn their language and culture. They were able to teach me a few songs and correct my poorly phrased sentences. I found out that when I mispronounce my Chinese name it means the sport of weightlifting, and resultingly this was often a point of confusion in conversation. My students brought me along on many bike rides into the surrounding villages where we saw a tree in the center of of one of the village centers. The kids worked hard to cross the language barrier and communicommuni cate that it was struck by lightning but had split into two and kept growing, and now many people told legends about it. Saying goodbye at the end of each week was incredibly difficult as I grew close to each one of my classes. The kids would write us notes and put them in our boxes, and I had one of the Chinese counselors translate them for me. We had a week at the end of our trip where we visited the Terracotta Warriors, the Great Wall, and Tiananmen Square. Walking around I could see couples wearing matching t-shirts and lots of people zooming by on bicycles and motorcycles. It was incredible to be seeing in person what we had learned about in freshman year history. I was now standing in the middle of places that I had studied and before now, seen only in documentaries. My time in China was incredible and I hope to go back with greater knowledge of Mandarin and continue learning about Chinese culture.
The Intermediate-Level English students.
Amanda’s group visists a night market.
Volume 1 2015