Dissonance: Spring 2022

GENER ASIAN

DISSONANCE

CONT ENTS

FROM

EXECUTIVE STAFF

Co-Presidents

Chelsea Kwak

Marva Shi

Editors-in-Chief

Amy Dai Shana Wu

Secretary

Alex Tran

Treasurer

Zu Yee Lee

Marketing Director

Victoria Ng

Art Editors

Joanna Feng Hana Pak

Blog Editors

Michael Lo

Jihoon Yang

Media Editors

Caitlin Chien

Sabrina Ho

Layout Editors

Charlene Tan

Marva Shi

Phoenix Chuang

THE EDITORS

Dear Readers, Welcome to the Spring 2022 issue of the Generasian Magazine!

When a core belief is challenged by social norms or values that contradict everything we know, what emerges is an intense feeling of discomfort called dissonance. Whether or not we are aware of it, dissonance pervades all of our lives — our desire to ease that exact discomfort is what motivates our many interactions and behaviors over time…

This semester, our writers were challenged to confront the dissonances within their own lives and the world around them. Writers wrote about issues ranging from the lack of understanding between detached Chinese immigrants and the Chinese government, to grappling with one’s connection to home, to the decolonization of the diaspora’s mind from the Western gaze on Asian spirituality. Other pieces addressing the generational gap in views over mental health within the Asian diasporic community as well as the language barriers that can stretch between family members speak to the way in which two people can stand on opposing sides of the same “dissonance.” We invite our readers to engage in these stories and in that process, begin to reckon with the dissonances that may lead your own lives.

Given the dire state of the world, it is imperative that we become aware of the dissonances surrounding us and learn how to communicate our unease with disharmony. From the continued attacks against the AAPI community across the U.S., to the once unimaginable situation occurring in Ukraine, our world is ridden with hypocrisy and misunderstanding. We hope that our magazine provides a platform for young writers to share their experiences and thus challenge members of our community to confront the uncomfortable, to subvert our collective complacency, to dismantle the established truth.

CONTRIBUTORS

Writers

Sandy Battulga

Guarav Kulkarni

Chelsea Kwak

Michael Lo

LeAnn Mai

Sam Ngai Eric Wu

Angela Zhao

Artists

Dee Boonpiti

Angela Chang

Joanna Feng

Emma Guan

Hana Pak

Janet Pan

Yukki Qiu

Lauren Yambao

Layout

Phoenix Chuang

Kunga Divie

Nicole Lai

Marva Shi

Charlene Tan

Sincerely, Your Editors

cover art: self portrait

Dee Boonpiti Digital

During the first COVID-19 lockdowns

Disclaimer:

This publication is published by students at New York University and NYU is not responsible for its contents.

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DREAMS WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OF

By: Chelsea Kwak

By: Chelsea Kwak

By: Chelsea Kwak

My first contribution to Generasian as a freshman just beginning to embark on their college journey ended on this positive note:

Like Achilles, I too have a decision to make about my “nostos ” after graduating college. I can go back to Korea or to my “beginning” like Odysseus, but I can also go back to Kensington. I could even start anew and establish a new “nostos” for myself. This will not be an easy decision to make. [...] But, for now, I’m beginning to feel at home right here at NYU.

I was born in Seoul, Korea but spent my entire life going back and forth between Seoul and Kensington, Maryland.

My first piece reflected on my experience of leaving both of my homes for the first time to come to college in New York, and wondering if I wanted to achieve my “nostos” once I graduated college by returning to either Seoul or Kensington.

Back when I wrote the piece, my decision about “nostos” felt miles away. Had someone asked me what I planned to do after college then, I would have replied that I wanted to do something museum or movierelated but was not entirely sure.

1 Theme of homecoming, especially pertaining to Homer’s Odyssey

Life at NYU and NYC moved quicker than any New Yorker walking on the street. I watched in awe as my Tisch film and TV friends began taking classes in sound and lighting; I was intrigued by my peers in Stern scrambling to write essays about how business and society interact. As I observed the world around me, I couldn’t help feeling behind on fulfilling a dream that didn’t even exist.

on myself, but all I could do was smile weakly.

I came to college at the age of 17, scared and excited about the city “where dreams are made of,” but not entirely sure about what my dream was.

I came to college at the age of 17, scared and excited about the city “where dreams are made of,” but not entirely sure. about what my dream was.

My hope darkened into worry and anxiety. It did not help to learn that if I wanted to stay in the U.S. as an international student from Korea, my career choices were extremely limited. The dilemma of deciding what I wanted to do after graduating college became a question of whether or not I wanted to stay in the U.S. or return to Korea when I always assumed it would be the other way around.

Once I decided that I wanted to continue my life in the U.S. after graduation, I went into survival mode. As I watched the number

As I observed the world around me, I couldn’t help feeling behind on fulfilling a dream that didn’t even exist.

of internship opportunities drop drastically when I applied the “sponsors visa” or “accepts OPT/CPT2” filter on Handshake, it seemed like the only choice I really had in order to stay in the U.S. was to enter the industry that offers the most visa sponsors: finance. It was as if everything was already predetermined for me and I just had to follow the path.

My peers in Stern that I had looked up to in admiration about knowing what they wanted to do with their lives soon became my competitors interviewing for the same positions as me. New York City turned from my new home with endless possibilities to my only option to be able to stay in the U.S. as the majority of jobs in the finance industry are located in the city.

It was a turbulent 4 years with both ups and downs. The 17-year-old is now 21. I still don’t know what my dreams are. But, as I approach graduation, I am happy to say that my hard work paid off and I was lucky to be offered a full-time position that will allow me to work in New York and stay in the U.S. for the near future.

I still don’t fully understand how markets work and hate the toxicity of the finance work culture, but I have come to terms with the fact that this is my present and future for now.

While my NYU journey comes to an end, I now embark on a new journey. Although it may not be the journey I imagined myself being on 4 years ago, it marks a new beginning full of possibilities. I’ve unloaded my dismay and

Artwork

By: Joanna Feng

When I was little, I wanted to become a firefighter. In elementary school, I wanted to be a “color designer” and writer.

I watched the first Avengers movie in middle school and decided that I would work for Marvel someday. As I grappled with the idea of “home” during my first year at NYU, I hoped that my new home of New York City would help me find a dream I could work towards throughout college. I thought that once I figured out what I wanted to do, the decision about “nostos” would follow.

I was wrong. It wasn’t my decision to make after all.

I’ve unloaded my dismay and confusion back at the pier of graduation and have re-loaded the excitement of my first-year self in hopes of discovering my dream.

confusion back at the pier of graduation and have re-loaded the excitement of my firstyear self in hopes of discovering my dream.

Maybe I’ll have a catch!

I had to play catch up with my fellow business students while fighting for the limited positions in the handful of companies that sponsored international students. Throughout my sophomore and junior years, my motto was that only if I tried harder–worked more hours, got better grades, gained more experiences would I just might be able to stay in the U.S. I received so many rejection letters from jobs and internships based on my visa status that they didn’t hurt anymore. Despite my extreme distaste for transactional conversations, my calendar became filled with coffee chats. No matter how hard I tried, I could never get used to the suffocating atmosphere of information sessions where my peers went after recruiters and professionals like piranha fish hunting their prey. My friends would ask me why I was trying to break into an industry that I was so unhappy in and why I was so hard 2 OPT (Optional Practical Training)/CPT (Curricular Practical Training): Temporary work authorization for international students

Artwork

By: Joanna Feng Artwork By: Joanna Feng

Chelsea Kwak is a senior at NYU studying Economics. She wants to thank Generasian for being such a major part of her college experience.

Joanna Feng is a senior majoring in Anthropology. Making art has always been her favorite creative outlet!

SEEDS OF CHANGE:

UNDERSTANDING ASIAN AMERICAN MENTAL HEALTH AND CHALLENGING STIGMA

By: Gaurav Kulkarni

“You are just making excuses,” “You are just lazy,” “You are embarrassing your family.” These are just a select few of the phrases and utterances that a sizable majority of friends and relatives have heard when attempting to open up to their families about the struggles they have been facing relating to mental health. Oftentimes within the Asian

community, these remarks are met with patronizing responses and dismissed without a second thought, chalked up to just being lazy or making excuses. It’s a sad but true reality that we see too often within the Asian American community – disconnect between parents and their children, or between the 1st and 2nd generations living in America, in properly tackling these issues. In America, only 8% of Asian Americans take advantage of mental health resources, as opposed to 18% of all Americans. Why is that? It is the inability of those born in their mother countries to properly understand the issues their children face. But why does this break in understanding occur? To understand we need to take a look at the brief history

of Asia and the values that take precedent. The roots of this misunderstanding vary quite a bit by region as Asia is such a diverse place with a variety of religions and social structures. However, there seems to be a

common trend of showing a facade of strength and perceiving emotional vulnerability as weak. Focusing first on China, we can start to understand the cultural attitudes that foster this inability to process mental health issues. Confucianism is the dominant religion and cultural identity of the vast majority of Chinese people. Looking into the core tenements of the religion, we see this notion that mental illness is “taking away a person’s ability to care for others.” For that reason, it’s seen as taking away someone’s identity or purpose. It’s the ultimate form of shame.”1 First generation immigrants in the United States bring these notions from their home

1 “Why Asian Americans Don’t Seek Help for Mental Illness.” Why Asian Americans Don’t Seek Help for Mental Illness | McLean Hospital, 10 May 2021, https://www.mcleanhospital.org/essential/ why-asian-americans-dont-seek-help-mental-illness.

countries: the idea that one needs to push through struggles and that anything but that is shameful. However, their children growing up in the US are exposed to more flexible takes on mental health, especially now in the 21st century. Such ideals include getting help or being open about one’s struggles. These misunderstandings of mental health are another facet of the divide between the 2nd generation diaspora and their parents, among others such as career aspirations, views on social issues, and family and cultural values.

For other Asian Americans, the ever

extends its claws into the Asian American existence in the United States. To give a little context to this, we’ll dive into the origins of the model minority stereotype. In short, this myth has existed ever since the arrival of Asian immigrants to the United States around the 1800s, and revolves around this notion that Asian Americans in the US are a perfect minority group who have found economic success because they are hard working and driven; they are a “model” that all other minorities should strive to follow.2 This stereotype is harmful for multiple reasons.

For one, it places a false generalization on all Asians as being successful and ignores the economic and social woes that many Asian immigrant groups go through. Asian Americans may be the highest earning group in the US, but they are also one of the lowest earning. “While Asians overall rank as the highest earning racial and ethnic group in the U.S., it is not a status shared by all Asians: From 1970 to 2016, the gains in income for lower-income Asians trailed well behind the gains for their counterparts in other groups.”3

Second, it implies that the struggles that other minority groups face are of their own fault and not because of the ever present systemic racism in our society., using Asian Americans as an example to ask, if they did it why can’t you?

Oftentimes, Asian Americans feel as if they have to live up to this standard, and as a result, constantly seem to put more pressure than necessary on themselves academically and financially. They see the way their communities have idealized their parents’ journeys and feel pressured to live up to them. Some of this pressure even comes from the parents themselves who may push their children, oftentimes to unhealthy levels, to be as successful as possible in a plethora of areas including academics and extracurriculars. Many Asian Americans see themselves as part of a group that is seamlessly integrated into their new society. They characterize themselves as intelligent, industrious, and

fully in charge of their lives. The cultural values brought from many of these first generation immigrants’ home countries tend to line up well with the unrealistic stereotypes placed on them by the West to delegitimize the struggles of other minority groups. As a result, there is a positive feedback loop where those feelings are almost reinforced in a toxic environment. For many, admitting to “weakness” would be letting down the entire community.2 What most parents and first generation immigrants fail to understand is that success does not mean not ever failing and hiding your vulnerabilities. One can be both successful while being vulnerable and tackling issues of mental health in a responsible manner.

Looking forward, attempting to change these deeply ingrained notions on mental illness is not something that will happen easily. We can, however, begin to take steps to start the de-stigmatization of mental health: having hard conversations with parents and loved ones, being honest, and explaining the issues surrounding the topic while also understanding and empathizing with their beliefs is integral in starting this shift.3 A shift in messaging as well as diverting more attention to mental health within nonprofits and organizations focused on Asian American issues such as the Asian American Equality Group and the Asian American Federation are incredibly important as well in driving change on a more widespread level. This sort of shift could also include greater access to counseling services at universities and high schools. More community events such as discussion groups, panels, and talks centered around destigmatizing mental health that is aimed at the Asian American community through the aforementioned nonprofits could help as well. Change does not happen overnight, and it may be a while before we see this issue being taken more seriously. By starting now, we can plant the seeds of change and ensure that future generations can have a better understanding of this integral issue.

2  LadyB. “What Is the Model Minority Myth?” Learning for Justice, https://www.learningforjustice.org/magazine/what-is-the-model-minority-myth. 3 Kochhar, Rakesh, and Anthony Cilluffo. “Income Inequality in the U.S. Is Rising Most Rapidly among Asians.” Pew Research Center’s Social & Demographic Trends Project, Pew Research Center, 21 Aug. 2020, https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2018/07/12/income-inequality-in-the-u-s-is-rising-most-rapidly-among-asians/.

withstanding model minority stereotype

Gaurav Kulkarni is a junior at NYU studying Economics.

One can both be successful while being vulnerable and tackling issues of mental health in a responsible manner.

These misunderstandings of mental health are another facet of the divide between the 2nd generation diaspora and their parents.

By starting now, we can plant the seeds of change.

DRAWING

ANDREI’S

By:

Emma Guan is a freshman studying Psychology at CAS but plans to switch to Gallatin for a concentration of animation, graphic design, and digital illustration.

By: Angela Chang

Angela Chang is someone who loves anything related to graphic design.

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A modernized illustration of Hanbok (South Korea’s traditional clothing)

Artworks by Emma Guan and Angela Chang

Emma Guan

FINDING

THE DAO: CHINESE AMERICAN

joss paper or observing specific dates. To me, honoring my grandparents’ traditions and maintaining their beliefs is my way of honoring their love and maintaining their influence.

MY JOURNEY AS A

I might be what some call superstitious. I believe in Feng Shui. I believe there are auspicious days for certain actions. I believe in certain principles of traditional Chinese medicine. But let’s get this straight: I am not an astrology/new-age/vegan/spiritualist hippie. I don’t believe in what I believe or practice what I practice because it is merely trendy. It’s an argument that many Asian Americans have found themselves having over and over again. What makes something appropriation?

Often, the argument defending the white girls wearing qipao to prom, or the start-up selling white-washed versions of a traditional game involves the idea of appreciation. They’re not appropriating the culture; they’re just appreciating it. And besides, the real Chinese people don’t mind. Why do you?

By: Angela Zhao

bring to school or the mocking we’d receive over our eyes. All of it, I think, plants in us a deep sense of inferiority and an intense desire to assimilate. It’s a phase many of us go through: of rejecting our heritage. It might be asking our parents to pack us Lunchables instead or following make-up tutorials for “bigger eyes.” For me, it was all of these and more. Taking the picture as a whole, I’ve come to understand that I have ongoing work that needs to be done in unlearning my own, as Cathy Park Hong terms it, racial self-hate. Park Hong puts it this way, “But the catch to that is that as an Asian American and someone of a certain tax bracket, I—and many other Asian Americans—are both. We’re both the comfortable and the afflicted.”

I didn’t learn these traditions and beliefs through quotes from a religious text or sermons on holy days. I learned the teachings in the day-to-day, through modeling and example. Since then, I’ve struggled with a desire to categorize these beliefs as philosophy, religion, or superstition. Not only had I spent many years of my life looking down on my own culture, but I also struggled to understand them from my Western point of view. But maybe this is not the way. Spirituality is a personal journey, and

Spirituality is a personal journey, and for me, it has involved reconciling two very different parts of myself. It was sped along by grief, but it has given me a way forward, out of that grief.

I grew up surrounded by reminders of my otherness.

I mind because of this: the journey I’m taking to reconnect with my spiritual beliefs is one I’ve been taking over and over again in so many different aspects of my life. For so much of my life, I’ve been spending my energy on fitting in. The other kids in school talk about going to church on Sundays. Every day, in the pledge of allegiance, I swear my loyalty to America, to be American, in God’s name.

I grew up surrounded by reminders of my otherness. Many writers of the Asian diaspora have explored this phenomenon of otherness through the difference in the lunches we’d

Within me lives both a self that is comfortable enough in white spaces, who is familiar with the norms and viewpoint of the majority and a self that is afflicted by the fate of being forever an outsider, who is looked down upon by the majority—that is until it’s cool or convenient. I have grown up in predominantly white places, and have been taught by predominantly white teachers. My exposures to Daoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism have been from two very different directions. In school, I learned about the major belief systems of China from a Western and academic point of view. Though this historical and academic perspective is useful and valuable in certain ways, it clashed heavily with my personal experience. The basic teachings of Daoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism are undeniably

entwined with Chinese culture, as well as that of many other Asian countries. As a child, the principles of balance and patience and selfcultivation were values my parents instilled in me. In school, these beliefs weren’t viewed as religions, but as philosophies. As such, I never termed myself as a religious or spiritual person, and I had always felt that this was an aspect of life I had simply missed out on. But the influence of spirituality and religion often becomes strongest in our times of greatest need. I found myself with this need this past fall when both of my maternal grandparents passed away in a very short period of time. My relationship with my

1 Lee, Alexa. “‘We’re Both the Comfortable and the Afflicted’: What Gets Overlooked When We Talk about Anti-Asian Racism.” Vox, Vox, 17 Mar. 2021, www.vox.com/22334188/cathy-park-hongminor-feelings-anti-asian-racism.

grandparents was a close one as they had lived with us all through my childhood. My earliest memories are summer days when my grandpa would take me to McDonald’s. I’d play all afternoon in the playspace and immediately

fall asleep on the way home. With my back all sweaty and my mouth all gummy, I can remember drowsily being carried inside

2 Lao Tzu Tao Te Ching, by D. C. Lau, Penguin Books, 1963.

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in my grandpa’s arms. On her daily walks with the other neighborhood grannies, my grandma would always bring back a flower for me. She would always save the best snacks and bits of food for me and my brother. The grief of losing them was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Though both of them had been battling health issues for years, the timing was a shock. Within two days, both of my grandparents had passed away. The sudden loss shook my family, my mother in particular. In the aftermath of such loss, ritual and guidance from religious beliefs can offer invaluable support. In the days and months of grieving, my family and I found comfort in traditional Chinese practices such as burning

for me, it has involved reconciling two very different parts of myself. It was sped along by grief, but it has given me a way forward, out of that grief. Still, I don’t know how to term myself. An agnostic? A follower of the Dao? A practitioner of Chinese folk religion? In the work of conceptualizing my spirituality, I turn to the most famous words of the most famous Daoist text, “The way that can be spoken of is not the constant way.”2 Perhaps leaving things unnamed does not negate their importance, and allowing my two selves to exist does not make either one less valid. I am learning to be okay with duality, the unnamed, and most of all, myself, just as I am. Because the Way is not a destination but a continual journey on which I am glad to be traveling.

Angela Zhao is a junior studying Applied Psychology with a minor in Chinese, and she is interested in cultural psychology and improving mental health outcomes for Asian Americans. In her free time, she enjoys reading, knitting/crochet, and feeding her sourdough starter Sasha.

Angela Chang is someone who loves anything related to graphic design.

Finding the Dao: My Journey as a Chinese American 11

I never termed myself as a religious or spiritual person, and I had always felt that this was an aspect of life I had simply missed out on.

THE MIXING POT

MIXING POT

By: LeAnn Mai

For many, the New York City college experience is one filled with a plethora of opportunities and memories. Bottomless Sunday brunch is a normal occurrence, and hitting the bars and clubs on a Thursday night is nothing out of the ordinary. NYU

is no exception to this. But behind those Instagram stories, disposable pictures, and five-second clips of what happened the night before lays a mixing pot of uncertainty, confusion, and incessant imposter syndrome. Going to college in New York City is, to

say the least, a dream come true. Born and raised in suburban Georgia, ten-year-old me would have never fathomed spending my college years eating halal on the sidewalk in 20-degree weather or waiting in line 5 hours just to snag some free money. I was

But behind those Instagram stories, disposable pictures, and five-second clips of what happened the night before lays a mixing pot of uncertainty, confusion, and incessant imposter syndrome.

prepared for the sleepless nights–whether it be from writing papers or walking around Central Park–and tales to tell when I’m back home. I was living the dream life, my friends from Georgia would say. I was doing what so many people in my hometown aspired

In a school as large and diverse as NYU, Asians are widely prevalent. With people from all over, I thought it would be easy to adjust and find people I resonate with. But the comfort and community I yearned for were lacking, and it seemed like everyone chose to stay within their close-knit circles. While the people I surround myself with share my Asian American identity, the way we grew up was different. I would walk into my friend’s home and feel uncomfortable standing inside their house, feeling as if I wasn’t “worthy” or “sophisticated” enough to stay there.

It’s not a bad thing, growing up in different environments. If anything, it’s fulfilling to learn about others and their life experiences. But that doesn’t change the fact

in the Zoom chats. But while my anxious feelings decreased, this didn’t mean it went away completely. Flashes and snapshots of luxury and decadence blinded me. Social media was filled with people “subtly” showing off their homes or the people they surround themselves with. It was an endless cycle of romanticizing wealth and the privilege that comes with it. But aside from the luxurious NYC living I would see on the streets and on social media, I also was rewarded with being able to connect with new people who shared similar ideals to me. I no longer tried to fit into a mold of the “lifestyle” I was supposed to have as an NYU student. Nights out karaoking in K-town were replaced by nights of eating homemade kimchi stew in my friends’ dorms.

to do–get away from home and live that hard-earned independence. What I wasn’t prepared for was the culture shock of meeting the rest of the Asian-American community.

My life became a scrutinizing competition between who managed to snag the best deals at sample sales, who got a reservation at Carbone first, or who got an apartment on the Upper East Side with a city view.

that their lives still feel foreign to me. My life became a scrutinizing competition between who managed to snag the best deals at sample sales, who got a reservation at Carbone first, or who got an apartment on the Upper East Side with a city view. It was terrifying–not fitting in. Sure, you could describe it as the cliché of a small fish in a big pond, but the pond was far wider and bigger than I could’ve imagined. My fear turned into anxiety and worry about how others perceived me.

Eventually, these feelings of worry and anxiety lessened the moment everything became fully in-person. It was exciting to see people face-to-face again and not from a Zoom call. It was rewarding to whisper in someone’s ear rather than privately messaging someone

Weekly shopping sprees in Soho were replaced by walks in Battery Park, and I learned to feel more connected with what I grew up with. That mixing pot of uncertainty eventually had comfort and hope added into the mix.

Flashes and snapshots of luxury and decadence blinded me.

LeAnn Mai (she/her) is a sophomore pursuing a major in English with a specialization in Creative Writing. Born and raised in suburban Georgia, she enjoys late-night driving, going on plushie hunts, and going to concerts/raves.

generasian.blog

By: Yukki Qiu

Yukki is a current Junior at NYU majoring in Business (sad times) but doing a semester abroad in Paris (happy times).

I went to Sleep No More once (once) and clearly fell down a rabbit hole there?

Fun fact: your spooky scary skeleton actually sends shivers down your spine

Pomegranate? Prenanagant? Who knows

Artworks by Yukki Qiu

CHINESE IMMIGRANTS, AMERICAN MISINFORMATION

CHINESE AMERICAN

This story begins in 2015, with China’s 74th richest man, and a $67.5 million penthouse overlooking Central Park. Guo Wengui, who built a fortune as a real estate developer, had fled the country for New York, fearing that he would be caught within China’s anti-corruption drag net1 Ma Jian, Guo’s close ally and a prominent government official, confessed to accepting more than $8.7 million in bribes from the businessman. While Ma would later be sentenced to life in prison in 2018, Guo’s exile in the U.S. presented new opportunities2 Styling himself as an antiChinese Communist Party whistleblower, Guo would go on to build alliances with the American far-right, recruit other Chinese dissidents to his cause, and build a sprawling Chinese-language misinformation network targeting the diaspora. The perplexing story of Guo Wengui raises numerous important questions regarding the problem of misinformation within the Chinese American community, particularly for first-generation immigrants. How has misinformation spread within the Chinese American community? Why might some Chinese immigrants feel drawn to conspiratorial thinking? Of course,

1 Friedman,

gettr-steve-bannon/.

these issues are not isolated to the Chinese community, but by keeping this article narrow and focused, we may reach some important conclusions.

According to the Washington Post, Guo has built a “potent network for disinformation in the United States, attacking the safety of coronavirus vaccines, promoting false election-fraud claims and spreading baseless QAnon conspiracies”3. Graphika, a social media consulting firm, identified over 30 corporate entities, 35 media and local action groups, and thousands of social media accounts tied to outlets that are owned by Guo4. None of this would have been possible without Guo’s partnership with Steve Bannon, co-founder of Breitbart News and former Chief Strategist to President Trump. Breitbart News is notable for attracting sharp criticism for its openly misogynistic, xenophobic, and racist content5 In 2019, Bannon published an opinion piece in the Washington Post, arguing for the U.S. to take a harsher stance against the CCP. He writes, “The Chinese people are the first and continuous victims of this barbarous regime”, and that China is “the greatest existential threat ever faced by

By: Eric Wu

the United States”6 Whether the Guo-Bannon partnership is a case of realpolitik, willful ignorance or a combination of both is up for debate. The scale of their operation, however, is evident.

Numerous Chinese language Youtube channels pushing conspiracy theories have emerged over recent years. Wang Dinggang, a close associate of Guo, was among the first Youtube personalities to promote salacious conspiracy theories regarding Hunter Biden7

Whether the Guo-Bannon partnership is a case of realpolitik, willful ignorance or a combination of both is up for debate. The scale of their operation, however, is evident.

Wang’s channel, LUDE Media, currently has 196,000 subscribers, and averages between 40,000 to 60,000 viewers per video8. Another Chinese Youtube commentator, Wu Jianmin, argued that the January 6th attack on the U.S. Capitol was organized by Antifa. His videos also average over 50,000 views9

2 “China’s Ex-Deputy Spy Chief Ma Jian Sentenced to Life for Corruption.” DW.COM, 27 Dec. 2018, https://www.dw.com/en/chinas-ex-deputy-spy-chief-ma-jian-sentenced-to-life-forcorruption/a-46873714.

3 Whalen, Jeanne, et al. “Chinese Businessman with Links to Steve Bannon Is Driving Force for a Sprawling Disinformation Network, Researchers Say.” The Washington Post, WP Company, 17 May 2021, https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2021/05/17/guo-wengui-disinformation-steve-bannon/.

4 Ants in a Web: Deconstructing Guo Wengui’s Online ‘Whistleblower Movement’. Graphika, 2021, https://public-assets.graphika.com/reports/graphika_report_ants_in_a_web.pdf.

5 Grynbaum, Michael M., and John Herrman. “Breitbart Rises from Outlier to Potent Voice in Campaign.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 26 Aug. 2016, https://www.nytimes. com/2016/08/27/business/media/breitbart-news-presidential-race.html.

6 Bannon, Stephen K. “Opinion Steve Bannon: We’re in an Economic War with China. It’s Futile to Compromise.” The Washington Post, WP Company, 6 May 2019, https://www.washingtonpost.com/ opinions/steve-bannon-were-in-an-economic-war-with-china-its-futile-to-compromise/2019/05/06/0055af36-7014-11e9-9eb4-0828f5389013_story.html.

7 Collins, Ben, and Brandy Zadrozny. “Inside the Campaign to ‘Pizzagate’ Hunter Biden.” NBCNews.com, NBCUniversal News Group, 22 Oct. 2020, https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/insidecampaign-pizzagate-hunter-biden-n1244331.

8 “路德社lude Media.” YouTube, YouTube, https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCm3Ysfy0iXhGbIDTNNwLqbQ/featured.

9 Churchill, Owen. “Conspiracy Theories Fracture Chinese Dissident Community Abroad.” South China Morning Post, 19 Feb. 2021, https://www.scmp.com/news/china/article/3122212/conspiracytheories-fracture-chinese-dissident-community-abroad-find.

Although Wang and Wu’s Youtube channels are evidently popular, pinpointing the scale of the misinformation problem is still a challenge. Since a significant amount of communication is done in closed group chats on platforms such as WeChat or Weibo, it can be difficult for journalists and researchers to get a clear picture of the flow and scale of misinformation10. Given that individuals are less likely to scrutinize information that is shared by a trusted person, such as friends or family, this effect may be amplified for Chinese immigrants who are unfamiliar with their new homes11 Additionally, I would argue that a handful of other factors make firstgeneration immigrants, particularly those from mainland China, more susceptible to falling for misinformation.

Hannah Arendt, a political philosopher who fled Nazi Germany, argued in The Origins of Totalitarianism that one purpose of propaganda is to cultivate a “curiously varying mixture of gullibility and cynicism”12. Living under a state where the truth is regulated and tailored to suit the Party line, people are left unmoored, picking or rejecting pieces of information to believe. Lacking a solid foundation upon which to build their beliefs, would it be surprising that immigrants from the mainland may feel drawn to anti-CCP misinformation, especially if they are leaving behind contentious histories? My parents, who came to the U.S. in the mid-’90s, visited

the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests while they were in college. Although they left Beijing before the military swept the square, they have told me about classmates who were arrested and denied their diplomas. And 30 years later, we’re having debates over whether or not Covid leaked out of a lab in Wuhan.

Prior to the January 6th, 2021 attack on the U.S. Capitol, around 100 ChineseAmerican protestors joined the crowd, shouting pro-Trump slogans and displaying

Living under a state where the truth is regulated and tailored to suit the Party line, people are left unmoored, picking or rejecting pieces of information to believe.

anti-CCP signs. A middle-aged man, speaking in Mandarin, explained that “We have truly become Americans. We have finally entered the American political sphere”13 While it is true that freedom of speech and democracy in the U.S. may have empowered my parents and many other Chinese immigrants, they may be more easily swayed by bad actors pushing misinformation. Given that platforms such as Facebook and Youtube have a less than stellar record of policing foreign language misinformation, this problem will not go away anytime soon14

Ultimately, this leads to the question of what can be done to combat the spread of misinformation among Chinese immigrant communities. One avenue would be to directly communicate with new immigrants on platforms such as WeChat. During the lead-up to the 2020 election, Foreign Policy reported on several Chinese journalists and activists taking on the task of combating Chineselanguage misinformation. Several accounts have emerged that focus on educating Chinese readers about U.S. elections, debunking conspiracy theories, and discussing the rifts between first and second-generation Chinese Americans caused by politics15. Cheng Yizhong, one such journalist, was the editor-in-chief of a Guangzhou-based newspaper and was arrested in 2004 for its coverage of the death of a migrant worker16 Now living in New York, he helps run two WeChat-based publications with a combined total of 190,000 followers that focus on dispelling rumors and providing accurate news coverage in Chinese. As he stated in Foreign Policy, “What I’m doing is upholding the self-respect of the news industry, or at least the bottom line, which is telling the truth”17 Needless to say, this will be an enormous challenge, but a worthy one nonetheless.

Eric is a senior at CAS, studying Politics and History. Glory to Ukraine.

10 Zhang, Stevie, and Esther Chan. “It’s Crucial to Understand How Misinformation Flows through Diaspora Communities.” First Draft, 11 Dec. 2020, https://firstdraftnews.org/articles/misinfo-chinesediaspora/.

11 “‘Who Shared It?’ How Americans Decide What News to Trust on Social Media.” American Press Institute, 20 Mar. 2017, https://www.americanpressinstitute.org/publications/reports/surveyresearch/trust-social-media/.

12 “Hannah Arendt Explains How Propaganda Uses Lies to Erode All Truth & Morality: Insights from The Origins of Totalitarianism.” Open Culture, 24 Jan. 2017, https://www.openculture. com/2017/01/hannah-arendt-explains-how-propaganda-uses-lies-to-erode-all-truth-morality.html.

13 Feng, Zhaoyin. “Going Undercover to Infiltrate Chinese-American Far-Right Networks.” BBC News, BBC, 8 July 2021, https://www. bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-57587364.

14 Paul, Kari. “‘Facebook Has a Blind Spot’: Why Spanish-Language Misinformation Is Flourishing.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 3 Mar. 2021, https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2021/mar/03/facebook-spanish-language-misinformation-covid-19-election.

is a senior at CAS, studying Politics and History. Glory to Ukraine.

15 Lu, Shen. “Liberal Chinese Americans Are Fighting Right-Wing WeChat Disinformation.” Foreign Policy, 13 Nov. 2020, https://foreignpolicy.com/2020/11/13/liberal-chinese-americans-fighting-rightwing-wechat-disinformation/.

16 “Chinese Media Must Push the Limits.” China Digital Times (CDT), 21 Jan. 2011, https://chinadigitaltimes.net/2011/01/chinese-media-must-push-the-limits/.

17 Lu, Shen. “Liberal Chinese Americans Are Fighting Right-Wing WeChat Disinformation.” Foreign Policy, 13 Nov. 2020, https://foreignpolicy.com/2020/11/13/liberal-chinese-americansfighting-right-wing-wechat-disinformation/.

Dan. “A Fugitive Chinese Tycoon Met Steve Bannon. Misinformation Mayhem Ensued.” Mother Jones, 23 Feb. 2022, https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2022/02/guo-wengui-miles-guo-

Eric

Steve Bannon greeting Guo Wengui during a 2018 news conference in New York (Image Courtesy of NBC)

A

Image Courtesy of The

THE CURIOUS CASE OF

CHINA’S OLYM PIC

tend to give it higher value and are more likely to develop facilities and programs to accommodate greater interest. This is why Canada and Russia are powerhouses in hockey because everyone there either plays or follows the sport, making it hugely popular. In China, on the other hand, only the northeastern provinces have previous winter sport pedigree, so the remainder of the nation hardly knew about the sport’s existence.

gameplay. For most Chinese families, the cost of playing hockey is simply out of reach. When comparing hockey to simpler sports like soccer or basketball, it is no secret that hockey is far costlier, and finding a rink to play on is much rarer; combined with only a marginal interest in the sport among the public, this makes the challenge of expanding hockey in China even more difficult to overcome.

as China is willing to pour resources into developing the sport at home, with time, China will inevitably field another competitive international squad at the Olympics.

HOCKEY TEAM

Furthermore, ice hockey is hugely expensive: ice rinks require land to build on and people and equipment to maintain the facilities. A full set of hockey gear will often cost over a thousand dollars, and that number only goes up given how often kids will outgrow their gear and break their sticks during

Yet, China’s Olympic hockey journey was not entirely a failure. In recent years, more and more youth programs have been established, more rinks have been built, and the presence of a Chinese team in the Olympics has raised public interest. However, building a hockey culture out of nothing is a tremendously difficult task and is one that cannot be rushed.

As sports and athletics become increasingly valued within Chinese culture, hockey’s popularity will certainly expand. As long

As sports and athletics become increasingly valued within Chinese culture, hockey’s popularity will certainly expand.

Michael is a junior at CAS majoring in East Asian Studies. A fan of McLaren in Formula 1, he hopes to watch a live race in the near future.

Emma Guan is a freshman studying Psychology at CAS but plans to switch to Gallatin for a concentration of animation, graphic design, and digital illustration.

By: Michael Lo Artwork by Emma Guan

I remember the first time that I donned my pads and laced my skates in ice hockey— during one summer in high school, at a rink on the outskirts of Beijing. My teammates were mostly local high school students who were also just beginning to play the sport—a group of amateurs wanting to learn something new. Our team was not competitive but neither were most teams in our league. Our practices were geared toward learning the basics of the sport rather than preparing for games, and our matches were played almost entirely for fun. While our team of beginners was enthusiastic about the sport, we did not play at a high level because hockey is a highly technical sport that required intense commitment. While I enjoyed my experience that summer and gained new skills in the sport, I knew that playing competitive hockey was beyond my reach.

the Olympics would automatically qualify for the tournament, it had to build a competitive team to avoid humiliation on home ice against its competitors. It intensified the preparation of their junior national team, hoping to develop homegrown players for the future. It also launched a series of junior leagues and development programs across the country, one of which I had played for, aiming to both increase the popularity of the sport and potentially identify new talent.

25-man roster, fifteen players were born abroad—eleven Canadians, three Americans, and one Russian. All foreign players were granted Chinese citizenship to represent China. While eleven of the fifteen foreignborn players had some Chinese ancestry, the composition of the Chinese team showed that the efforts in developing domestic Chinese talent still did not produce enough competitive talent for the Olympics. Thus, expectations for the team’s performance were not high.

When China was selected to host the 2022 Winter Olympics in 2015, it immediately began an intense effort to develop its own ice hockey program.

That summer ice hockey program in Beijing was one of many efforts by China to cultivate talent in the sport within its borders. When China was selected to host the 2022 Winter Olympics in 2015, it immediately began an intense effort to develop its own ice hockey program. Because the host nation for

In 2016, China applied and entered a team into the Russian Kontinental Hockey League (KHL). Based out of Beijing, Kunlun Red Star was China’s attempt to develop hockey at a higher level and raise the interest in the sport at home. Yet, in the six seasons that Kunlun has played, they have only made the playoffs once and never ended a season with a winning record. Furthermore, the COVID-19 pandemic and the closing of China’s borders relocated Kunlun to Moscow for the past three seasons, detaching the program from its home fanbase.

In the last few seasons, Kunlun began assembling a team of Chinese nationals and players with Chinese heritage. The purpose was that this same team would become the Olympic squad that would represent China in 2022. Yet, Kunlun’s frequent lack of competitive play against its Russian competitors worried the International Ice Hockey Federation that they would potentially be badly defeated on home ice—only after a stretch of decent play affirmed their automatic qualification in the Olympics. In their final

Given that the National Hockey League had withdrawn its players from the Olympics, China suddenly had some hope to win against lower-level international competition. In its opening game against the United States, China was defeated 8-0. In its game against Germany and two against Canada, China conceded fifteen goals while only scoring four, finishing last among the twelve participating nations.

After the conclusion of the Olympics, questions were raised regarding whether China could ever field another Olympic ice hockey team again for future competitions where they could not automatically qualify.

If it weren’t for the foreign-born players that comprise a large portion of the roster, China would most certainly have done much worse. What is it about the sport of ice hockey that the most populous nation in the world could not assemble a squad of twenty-five players that could compete and win in international competitions?

Firstly, ice hockey is a winter sport, meaning that countries with colder climates

Curious Case of China’s Olympic Hockey Team

LAUREN JANELLE YAMBAO

Lauren is a spring transfer student. She enjoys drawing during her free time. When it comes to sketching, she gets to use creativity to express her ideas.

“IN THIS DIGITAL ART, I INTERPRET THE THEME OF DISSONANCE AS THIS FIGURE. WHAT APPEARS IN FRONT IS NOT ALWAYS THE SAME INTERNALLY. THERE CAN BE DISHARMONY IN AN INDIVIDUAL’S LIFE. I FEEL THAT EVERYONE HAS A MASK WHERE THEY DON’T SHOW ANY OF THEIR EVERYDAY STRUGGLES.

THE ONLY TIME ONE WITNESS A STRUGGLE IS IF ONE OVERBEARS THEMSELVES CAUSING THE MASK TO CRACK.

THE WHITE HAND ILLUSTRATES THE ILLUSION OF AN INDIVIDUAL’S EMOTION THAT WILL EMBRACE THE FIGURE ATTEMPTING TO FIX THE MASK ONCE MORE.”

“i wanted to create a juxtaposition / dissonance in the feelings of the piece through the colors. the title ‘metanoia’ arises from the fact that the figure is caught mid-movement, as if they are taking their hands out of prayer/putting their hands in prayer.”

Janet Pan is a hobbyist doodler who likes playing around with line weight and color!

generasian.blog

ON BEING AN AMERICAN DAUGHTER REVERBRATIONS

Chapter I: Repetitions

Now skewed I’ll never remember them for what they truly were in that Moment

Memories “Данзан гуай, Данзан гуай” That name Reverberates in my head But where is it coming from?

My hazy mind can’t place it Haze from the nearby oil plant, haze from the mountains on fire, haze from the sleep I was lulled into while pressing my head against the bumps in the road

My eyes groggy from sleep Opened to see my mother Testing that name out between her teeth

And the tip of her tongue Following all the different melodies Different intonations Of the word.

A few seconds lacking in understanding

It always takes me longer to process her words when they’re accentless.

I remember wishing that she would stop repeating that name How many different shapes could the same syllables take?

But, they found new crevices of sound to fall into Repeating again

And Again

To perfection and beyond.

Chapter II: Instinct

I used to carry around a purple composition book One I found even though I wasn’t searching for it But once it settled into the platform of my hands, I knew that I was meant to find it.

I used to scribble scraps of poetry along the pages The letters thick and sure I used to read them aloud to my family

And so I was born with a love of words, admiration for their soft contours and multitude of hues

Because the vibrato of my mother’s voice reciting poetry reverberated throughout my whole being when I was still wholly a part of her Because my father is named after poetry and he named me.

I was born with a love of words But not understanding Of the ones my mother and father spoke.

The melodious rhythms of their language wash over me, Their meaning lost in the currents of English

How can something so foreign to them be so natural to me?

language I do not speak.

A story that I am not privy to, This is the great tragedy of my poetry.

I try to rectify the sense of loss I attribute to the headstrong stubbornness of my younger self The child who refused to share in the fluidity of her parents’ speech.

This time, when I write, The letters are thin and unsure Watered down with the tears that escaped the flow of resilience My name was intended to command.

COUNTRY WOMAN

How can the words I so desperately seek to understand elude me?

Of poetry We are connected by our names only But maybe “only” is “completely.”

Chapter III: Loss

Forcefully gather an audience Already desperate to spread the words stuck in my head, reverberating. My father’s name is Tulga, And it means poetry. And it was my father’s will (read: his words) That named me Ундраа He called me, Meaning the start of a river, a well, an unknown starting point A source of water to draw from that which never begins nor ends; resilience.

The metaphor between water and resilience, So intrinsic in my name It must be poetry.

The poetry that defines my parents Is lost within me No place to reside.

And so now when my mother recites poetry It is never to me.

Here I now sit Writing poetry

In a language I know in and out But, I am inevitably clumsy The words I am using, Inadequate.

For the emotions and relationships I attempt to communicate Can only fully materialize in the

In poetry, Language is everything We drown in it completely.

The same ocean, Clinging to land miles apart.

Whenever I asked my mom for fairytales from Mongolia (Meaning the ones I had devoured in American books, filled with dragons and fairies and castles) She would tell me of the past queens of Mongolia Strong, proud, arid women From a past that intermingles with legend.

Heads held high, Straining against the mark of their superiority Hair, Twisted into arcs, marked with metal plates and set with jewels Women of the country.

Mongolian women with rosy cheeks

Rubbed raw from the country wind

They stood against a great expanse of blue sky, Interrupted suddenly by the beginning of land

But are they really separate beings?

No, they make up the same

landscape Mongolian women Strong Like the yak Proud Like the hawk Arid Like the desert. Country women Blue sky Yak, hawk, desert.

There is a traditional dance of the desert flower. It grows where there is no water, no forgiveness It grows even when all else surrenders to death. But it is a woman who dances Straining against the limits of her limbs

Smiling against the air that escapes her chest Moving despite the weight of her feet.

Country woman, Desert flower.

The features of Mongolian women are instantly distinguishable High cheekbones that feature round-cheeked smiles, Almond eyes that crinkle against distinctive laughs These are the features of country women.

stomach, the tapering of my eyes? Why do I pick apart

The face and body of my countrywomen?

It is because I have been taken out of the blue sky Taken away from the yak and the hawk and the desert. I am a desert flower Straining against my limbs I smile against the air that escapes my chest, move despite the weight of my feet But this time, Everything else grows around me Asking me to surrender.

There are no reminders in this foreign country

That my beauty resides in the language of the land And that I am a country woman.

Then why do I pick apart my face and body?

Why do I regret the shape of my nose, the gentle folds of my

Sandy Battulga is a first-year in CAS studying Comparative Literature and Social & Cultural Analysis. When she’s not laying in bed procrastinating doing her homework, she can usually be found thrifting, reading, or painfully attempting to write.

My father holding me as a newborn in Downtown Denver, CO.

Then why do I pick apart my face and body? Why do I regret the shape of my nose, the gentle folds of my stomach, the tapering of my eyes? Why do I pick apart The face and body of my countrywomen?

In poetry, Language is everything

We drown in it completely. The same ocean, Clinging to land miles apart.

My mother in her early 20s.

UNSPOKEN

Steam rising from a Zojirushi rice cooker shrouds the kitchen in a misty fog as a rattling sound vibrates out from a pot of water on the stove, boiling so furiously that it shakes its unfitting lid. Next to the stove is my grandma, chopping a handful of scallions into perfect rings.

“Nei hou, Grandma,” I say.

She turns around and smiles, her face softening around the map of wrinkles that stamps her forehead and the corners of her mouth. I lean against the refrigerator door and watch as her knife slowly makes its way to the white end of the stalks.

“Nei hou maa? Nei duk syu dim aa?” she asks.

I pick up a few key words and understand that she is asking me about my studies. But all I can return is a blank stare, unable to form a sufficient reply. I say “I’m sorry,” my English bouncing off her Cantonese like two magnets of the same polarity.

lined with hot oil. While stirring the contents of the wok with a wooden spatula, she grabs a battered oven mitt to open the pot of boiling water. Lifting up the lid, steam sticks to her wire framed glasses, leaving a layer of fog over the clear lenses. She raises her eyebrows in surprise and we both start to laugh, all the

buddha’s delight come together in a heavenly feast. I take six bowls out of the cupboard and fill each one with a scoop of white rice. Once I finish, she hands me six pairs of chopsticks and six porcelain spoons to set the table. I go into the dining room and find an old table cloth in the cabinet under the window. I

handiwork. She walks up behind my chair and places both her hands on my shoulders before delivering a familiar phrase.

“Sik faan!”

Sik faaan translates to “eat meal,” the “bon appetite” of Cantonese speakers. It is said before every one of our family dinners,

By: Sam Ngai

Except for my family’s monthly visits to my grandma’s house, I grew up in a world of English speakers. My mother always spoke English to my brothers and me at home, knowing it would be more useful in the outside world than her first language. By the third generation of our family, my brothers and I have started to lose touch with the language. And I feel a ping of shame every time I am reminded of this loss.

But she returns my apology with a gentle smile and hands me three cloves of garlic, gesturing to the cutting board on the counter. I smile and start to peel each clove using my fingers, scratching at the skin with difficulty until I feel her hand on my shoulder motioning for me to step aside. She takes the half peeled garlic clove and smashes it against the board, using the heel of her hand against the flat side of a kitchen knife to free the fragrant cloves from its papery skin. I smile and copy her technique with the last two.

After tossing the peel into the trash, I watch her start to slice a piece of ginger, cutting around the edges to remove the rough, brown peel from the flesh. I remember seeing an Instagram post about peeling ginger that said the best way is to use a spoon to scrape away the peel. I tap her on her shoulder and put out my hand, asking her to give me what was left of the ginger root. I take a metal spoon from the cutlery drawer and start to scrape at the peel, revealing the yellow flesh. She smiles and nods, admiring my new method.

A loud sizzle followed by a vibrant scent fills the kitchen as she tosses the chopped aromatics into a wok

different sounds of the kitchen ringing out like a set of bells in perfect harmony.

She takes off her glasses and wipes the lenses clean before returning to the water. She reaches into the fridge and takes out a whole chicken, already prepped to be poached. With a slow, steady hand, she lowers the chicken into the water until it is completely submerged. The water comes back up to a boil and I turn the burner all the way down to a simmer, imitating the moves I have seen her make with this recipe a hundred times before. She looks

drape the faded floral pattern over the round wooden table before setting a place in front of each chair.

I return to the kitchen where my grandma has finished plating. She hands me each dish one by one and I march them out to the table where my parents and brothers have filled four of the six chairs, excitedly awaiting the meal. After the last dish, I take my seat.

My grandma comes out of the kitchen and looks down at the table, pleased with our

announcing not only the blessing of food, but also the gift of each other’s presence. It is a tradition. A ritual. It is a phrase I understand.

The sound of clinking silverware and cheerful conversation fills the dining room. My brother reaches over to fill our father’s plate and he ruffles his hair in thanks. My mother asks about my grandma’s orchid plants resting by the window, with every fifth word or so in English. The Cantonese and English weave in and out of each other, creating an enchanting pattern. The languages spin around each other in a perfect waltz, dancing to the same song, taking another step with each delicious bite. Sik faan. We eat. We eat together.

Samantha is a freshman at CAS studying Journalism and Urban Design.

Hana is is a Junior at NYU who studies STEM but has always liked drawing better.

up at me and nods with the same gentle smile. But this time her gaze lingers. And possibly for the first time we see each other, two women separated by a generation but bonded under the language of love.

As the chicken is left to poach, we return to the other dishes. Steamed whitefish with ginger and soy sauce, braised pig feet, clams with black bean sauce, and vegetarian

Artworks by Hana Pak

Photo

And possibly for the first time we see each other, two women separated by a generation but bonded under the language of love.

I say “I’m sorry,” my English bouncing off her Cantonese like two magnets of the same polarity.

The languages spin around each other in a perfect waltz, dancing to the same song, taking another step with each delicioius bite.

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Michael Lo

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Harry Paragas

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