Big Straw Magazine 2015 by Lana Li

2014-2015

Big Straw

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The Man Behind the Mask / Yuanyuan Fu / acrylic paint, marker 2

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editor’s note Dear Reader,

Cheers to another year. The editors and staff at Big Straw are excited to bring to you the 2014-2015 edition of our magazine. The theme for this issue of Big Straw is movement. To move is powerful. Movement is expression. (We dance.) Movement is creation. (We drag a paintbrush across a canvas.) We write so our minds can travel and explore when our bodies cannot. Movement is at the core of life, but the idea is to continue. You may not be sure where you’re going or you may be entirely lost, but uncertainty shouldn’t stop you. Let curiosity drive you. Rest, but do so knowing that you will continue. To continue, we believe, is at the heart of existence. That’s the beauty of having the privilege to move, and it’s a privilege of every living thing. Movement also brings change. A river, flowing steadily down its path, changes the land beneath it. This year, Big Straw has undergone many changes. The first, and arguably most meaningful, change is our new and improved mission. We now aim to provide an outlet for Asians and Asian Americans to think, express, discuss, and create—not just about political issues, current events, or culture, but about whatever they desire. We removed categorical restrictions and now the conversation can run free. You’ll notice this in the great range of topics we cover in this issue, and we now have more creative pieces than ever. Our editorial board has also doubled in size to accommodate our grander mission. While the freedom to move is vital, so is being grounded. In the midst of chaos, what do you identify with? What keeps you sane? What do you find yourself returning to at the end of the day? What is your anchor? In our magazine centerpiece, a ship held down by seven anchors, some of our members share their personal anchors. This centerpiece, a collaborative effort, is another new component of our magazine, one we will absolutely continue. Thank you for picking up a copy of Big Straw Magazine. I invite you to read this year’s issue with an eagerness to explore. By flipping through these pages, you will traverse the creations of someone else’s imagination. The only equipment you will need is an open mind. Enjoy your travels.

Sincerely,

Lana Li Editor-in-Chief 3

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editors Lana Li ’16 EDITOR-IN-CHIEF North Brunswick, NJ Decision Science & Professional Writing David Wu ’15 MANAGING EDITOR New York, NY Mathematics Lily Zhang ’15 TREASURER Downingtown, PA Electrical & Computer Engineering Solomon Ng ’16 CREATIVE DIRECTOR New York, NY Design Christine Yang ’16 STRATEGY DIRECTOR Hsinchu, Taiwan Business Administration Peter Weon ’17 PUBLICITY DIRECTOR Tenafly, NJ Business Administration Robert Chen ’16 ADVERTISING MANAGER Bethesda, MD Electrical & Computer Engineering Kathy Huang ’17 CONTENT EDITOR Princeton, NJ Biological Sciences Karen Nguyen ’17 COPY EDITOR Carol Stream, IL Professional Writing

about The Asian-interest publication that started over a cup of bubble tea. Big Straw is a student-run Asian-interest publication that celebrates the creative talent and intellectual depth of the Asian and Asian American community at Carnegie Mellon University by providing students with an outlet for artistic expression, cultural identity, and thought. Big Straw was founded with the goal to cultivate and spread ideas relevant to Asians and Asian Americans.

mission 1. Provide an outlet for Asians and Asian Americans to think, express, discuss, and create. 2. Explore the complexities of Asian and Asian American culture and increase awareness about cultural and sociopolitical issues experienced by Asians and Asian Americans. 3. Break down barriers and enable students to discover more about themselves and others rather than defining or reshaping Asian or Asian American culture. 4. Produce an insightful, educational, and professional magazine.

submit Big Straw accepts submissions year-round. All forms of writing (articles, creative writing, reviews, surveys, tips/recommendations) and art (photography, illustrations, comics) are accepted. Topics include, but are not limited to, the following: News & Current Events Culture Features Arts & Entertainment Personal Narratives Food & Travel Lifestyle Creative Writing Student & Professor Profiles Submit your work via email to bigstrawmag@gmail.com.

Maggie Yu ’17 WEBMASTER Somerset, NJ Information Systems & HCI Calvin Chan ’15 OPINIONS EDITOR Honolulu, HI Mechanical Engineering & Biomedical Engineering Dianna Li ’17 CREATIVE WRITING EDITOR Acton, MA / Shanghai, China Chemical Engineering

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Kayla Jin ’17 CULTURE EDITOR Maryland Computer Science

layout Solomon Ng Lana Li Peter Weon Christine Yang Eric Lee Lynnette Ramsay Grace Wong

staff Eric Lee Grace Wong Lynnette Ramsay Brooke Kuei Satvika Neti Snigdha Roy Eric Yi Yuanyuan Fu

web bigstrawmagazine.org | facebook.com/cmubigstraw

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For True Liberty of North Korea Kayla Jin

Nuclear weapons. Kim Jong-un. These are the images of North Korea. On one hand, we have a severe political hatred towards the communist regime - the news media always talks about the Kims, the nuclear experiments, and the kinds of threats they put on the U.S. On the other hand, we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t take them that much seriously. TV shows make fun of North Koreans. 9gag has pages full of mockery. These are the context that we put North Korea in. But there are many organizations that recognize other problems associated with this country. I met Cherry Park, Minnah Ahn and Priscilla Kim, the representatives of CMU Liberty in North Korea (LiNK) to talk about rescues and resettlements of North Korean refugees.

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What is LiNK and what is your mission? Minnah : LiNK is a non-profit organization, the only non-governmental organization that supports the people in North Korea, and its mission is basically for the liberty - it’s selfexplanatory from the organization’s name - Liberty in North Korea. A lot of people don’t really know the situations in North Korea. When they hear the word, they just think about the government, but they do not realize that the people in North Korea do not play part in any of these. They are actually suffering - their rights are taken away, they’re oppressed, and so Liberty in North Korea not only wants to rescue refugees coming from North Korea to China but also raise awareness to people and around the states that what you see in social media isn’t everything. Priscilla : LiNK also has been working with resettlement of the refugees recently. They help the refugees rescued to resettle in either the states or South Korea, help them get a job, get assimilated to the culture. How do people escape North Korea and how does LiNK reach out to refugees in China? Priscilla : First, the chance of escaping and being able to successfully escape North Korea and survive alive is actually really low compared to how many people try to escape, so the people that we see, like on Ted talks, are really fortunate and lucky. Since the border between South Korea and North Korea is heavily armed, watched 24/7, they have to cross the river that is the border between North Korea and China, and they have to successfully cross that without getting caught by the North Korean guards and soldiers. Even if they are able to cross that river, once they are in China they cannot settle there because if they are caught by the Chinese government, they are going to be taken back to North Korea. Minnah : To add on, the Chinese government do not recognize these North Korean refugees as proper refugees. Basically they are people who illegally crossed the borders so they send them back to North Korea. When these people are sent back, they’re interrogated, put into prison camps, and maybe even get executed. There are consequences and they really shouldn’t get caught. So North Koreans cannot really do legal stuffs in China. Most girls are prone to be part in sex trafficking, or get sold to marry Chinese men that they don’t like. So the escapees do not exactly live a happier life. What LiNK does here is they have a modern version of underground railroads, so they can smuggle them out of China and get a better life in South Korea or the states. There seems a lot of risk in escaping. Why do these people choose to escape? Minnah : The hope for them to continue living in North Korea is not much. This country literally gives no freedom of speech, no freedom of religion, no freedom of access to outside worlds, so the life they live in North Korea is unimaginable from us. They have to live under the eyes of the government control and meanwhile the poverty rate is very high. 1/4 of the North Korean

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children are malnourished. Food shortage has been a problem since the 1990’s and for them to take that risk of escaping is much better than staying and possibly starve to death. A lot of people also gets motivated to work in China and send back money to their family in North Korea. Priscilla : Also, nowadays the North Koreans sometimes get access to western movies or South Korean TV shows, where they see that their life in North Korea is so much worse than what they can possibly have, and sometimes this becomes motivation. One of the modern reasons why some of them would escape is Jangmadang, a new kind of black market, and the younger generation who grew up in food shortage and do not have much trust and connection to the government, through the black market, go trading smuggled goods and feel this sense of independence from the government. Through that they get a bigger desire to leave the country. Would it be possible for these black markets to grow and make people more strongly voice their opinions? Minnah : It could be a possibility since it is growing pretty rapidly, but it might be dangerous to say that people will overthrow the government through this culture yet. We’ve learned what LiNK does. Could you explain what CMU LiNK does to promote LiNK’s mission? Cherry : We’re more focusing on raising awareness and spreading the knowledge about what is happening with North Korean people. Many Americans only know just Kim Jong-un and make fun of him. We want to let people know that there is an organization that’s dedicated to help people in North Korea, dedicated to help refugees escape and to cause a change in North Korea right now because the government is slowly losing its power. We want to make this change faster and we can do that by letting more people know, and make them help, get involved. We do fundraising events to help fund refugee teams in China, but also stress on raising awareness. Minnah : A few weeks ago, one of our board members was wearing the Liberty in North Korea T-shirt in an elevator and this other guy was like, “Hey, is that for real? Or is that a joke?” So we explained that it is an actual thing, an organization, that tries to promote liberty in North Korea. This person literally had no idea about LiNK. A lot of times when we do events, many of the attendees are Koreans, because they know most about it, but our goal is to go beyond that. So what are the ways that people could help the cause? Cherry : If people want to learn more, they could always email us, and we send out weekly emails about events and facts of the week. They can also make websites through LiNK and raise funds and awareness. People can hold their own “rescue team,” a fundraising group that LiNK has set up, since to rescue one person from out of China requires about $3,000. They could even join our chapter and take part. Every Tuesdays we sell foods in UC to fundraise, we do movie screening and hold Nomads speech. There are many different ways to contribute to the cause, and come out support!

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Homebound / Grace Wong / markers, fabric, beans

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An Outsider’s Choice: Asian American Response to #BlackLivesMatter Calvin Chan

Ferguson. A name filled with connotations to

racism is dead and still around. News outlets chose

race, police violence, and justice. A name that

to focus on the rallies and the riots held by both

became so volatile that many people dare not say

protestors and supporters alike.

it in order to avoid full-blown political warfare.

In all this social outcry, America’s other races were

For weeks, every TV, radio, and news outlet in

faced with a hard choice. Asians and other races of

the country focused on the incident in that small

non-white and non-black descent had no clear place

Missouri town.

in the political rhetoric thrown around by the media.

In the wake of Darren Wilson’s shooting of

We were either faced with a choice of submission,

Michael Brown, racial tensions in the U.S. rose

rebellion, or omission. Do we agree with the rulings

as both sides of the case argued back and forth.

of the court? Do we speak out and cry racism? Or

Unclear evidence led to mass support for both

do we sit idly on the sideline and wait for it all to

sides of the conflict. Proponents of Michael

blow over?

Brown started the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter to

Many Americans, especially Asian Americans, chose

condemn the loss of another young black man due

to ignore this discussion on race. American political

to police violence. Proponents of Darren Wilson

discussion historically ignores the Asian Americans

defended him by pointing out the injuries and

so why shouldn’t they do ignore politics in return?

wounds suffered by both participants. Lines were

Ignoring the #BlackLivesMatter movement and

drawn within communities that exploded onto

other social movements is a choice they historically

social media as political rhetoric turned to white

make due to political discourse regularly ignoring

lives versus black lives.

them. Unsurprisingly, Asian Americans have the

As the atmosphere turned more violent in

lowest voting turnout out of all of America’s races.

response to Staten Island grand jury’s ruling on Eric

Many groups argue whether the cause of low voter

Garner’s death, racial tensions became impossible

turnout is from politicians overlooking Asians, or

to ignore. National dialogue focused on black lives

many Asian Americans’ disinterest in politics.

in relation to white lives and the ongoing disparity

For Asian Americans with a disinterest in the

faced by many African Americans today. People

political and social affairs, omission is an easy choice.

posted, tweeted, and shared articles claiming both

Energy spent on campaigning and demonstrating

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could be better spent on more productive matters.

respect for one’s own government’s decisions. So for

Many Asian Americans do not care for politics not

some Asian Americans who choose to submit, they

because they think it is unimportant, but because

are agreeing out of traditional values of respect for

it does not directly affect them. Why should they

the decisions made by one’s government. They do

fight an uphill battle for others when they can

not have to agree with the policy or ruling, they just

fight easier matches for themselves? Time spent

have politely accept that the government is having

protesting is time that could be used for studying,

the final say on the matter.

working, or actually helping others. Ignoring the

For other Americans, the choice to rally against

politics of #BlackLivesMatter becomes the most

the rulings is not only required, but a display of

utilitarian and effective choice.

their first amendment right. Peacefully protesting

For many Asian Americans growing up, parents

the deaths of Michael Brown and Eric Garner shows

routinely reinforced the traditional Confucian

our outrage at racist actions in the 21st century as

values of obedience and respect. These values were

well as demonstrate our solidarity with the African

not only meant to govern the direct relationships

American community. For Asian Americans who

one has with others, but also for the relationship one

speak out against the court’s decisions, the African

has with the government. These values were meant

American community’s loss of two lives parallels the

to teach children to listen to their teachers and lords

loss of Vincent Chin in the 70s. By acting on their

because they knew best, but in modern America

outrage, the countless Asian Americans choose to

many of the people in power do not have a rigorous

rebel against the decision and protest their perception

education in the philosophy of morality. Still, many

of racial mistreatment.

parents reinforce the policies of politeness and

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Interview with Dr. Ricky Law Lynnette Ramsay & Grace Wong

Photo Courtesy of Ricky Law

Grace Wong and Lynnette Ramsay asked their history professor, Dr. Ricky Law, Pd. D, a few questions about his own story for this issue of Big Straw. Professor Law — known as Ricky in this interview — was more than happy to share full recollections of his childhood and young adulthood which give great insight into his identity as an Asian American. He begins by reflecting on some earlier memories. Grace: So first of all, are there any specific childhood memories you’ve had that resonate with you today and that you continue to reflect on? Ricky: I would say that one thing that has been coming up on my mind in the last few years is the memory of going to San Francisco (SF). We lived in a very small town in the central Californian coast, and we were practically related to the other two Asian American families there. About every month

or so, we would make the tow and a half hour drive to SF to get groceries and go to Chinese restaurants. Getting dim sum in SF was a regular ritual, even if the drive was long. For me, that practice more or less stopped after I moved out of California. And I think when I was a child I kind of resisted or resented going to Chinese restaurants all the time.There’s a part of me who wanted to integrate and assimilate, and our going to Chinese restaurants did not help with that. And I would tell my family not to talk so loud,

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especially in Cantonese, in public. But looking back from today, I think that was rather silly. Grace: How do you respond to this memory now? Ricky: I look for good Chinese restaurants when I move to a new place. Especially dim sum places. It is my way of trying to recapture a bit of that childhood. So when I moved to North Carolina for graduate school, I looked for Chinese restaurants. I did the same when I moved to Florida and Pittsburgh, too. Going to places like that reminds me of the time my family went to SF for our dose of Chinese food and culture. So whereas when I was younger I was almost embarrassed that we did that, now I actively embrace it and search for that experience. Lynnette: What characteristics of your childhood best exemplify your experiences as an Asian-American? It seems like food and the Cantonese language played an integral part. Ricky: Food and language played a very significant role. My parents do not speak English, so all communication was in Cantonese. And as I said that’s something I thought I was embarrassed by, and now looking back, I am embarrassed that I ever felt embarrassed by it. But my lack of pride for my heritage also had to do with the fact that we were in a small town with 8000 people or so and we were one of three Asian American families. I was teased fairly regularly as a child in school because I was different. And I thought assimilation and eliminating all traces of Chinese-ness was the key to stopping that. Lynnette: I remember you said in one of your classes that people expected you to know kung-fu because you were Asian. Have you experienced any other stereotypes while you were growing up? Ricky: Oh, very much so. Many times, some kid I didn’t know would come up to me and say “ching chong....” or some silly things like that. They would ask me if I knew Jackie Chan or if we ate dogs. I can’t really tell if I got teased because I am Chinese American or because we were in a small town. Grace: How did you respond to these stereotypes at that time? How would you respond now?

Ricky: Being different in a small town is not always an easy thing. At that time it was difficult. Let me add that I had good friends in middle and high school who came to my aid. It was not as if everyone was teasing me all the time. I had friends who told the other kids off. But there were also kids who looked for trouble and I was an obvious target. I wouldn’t say that I was bullied, but I was teased often. Back then, I just tried to ignore them as much as I could. I would avoid running into certain people. I would walk with my friends. Thankfully, the teasing never became physical. The whole “kung fu Asians” stereotype did have a good impact on me though. Grace: Oh, how so? Ricky: In that the other kids would hesitate to start fights because they thought I might beat them up. They bought into the whole Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan myth. They might have thought that if I got pushed hard enough I would unleash some kung fu beating on them. So I never got into a fight because someone teased me. I also did very well in school and the teachers appreciated that. But of course, that was a double-edged sword. By doing well in school I was living up to another stereotype, of Asians excelling in academics. Lynnette: Did you ever think you might unleash some kung fu Asian fury or be a human calculator? Or, in a larger sense, do you feel that on a personal level, being subjected to these stereotypes has influenced who you are as an individual today? Ricky: No, not really I was not very athletic (still am not) and I never wanted to learn any kind of martial arts (though that did cross my mind more than once). I would like to think that I got over the teasing and that it left no mark in me. I mean, now from a safe distance I look back at that time somewhat nostalgically. It’s something I think I put behind. It’s part of growing up. Grace: So do you find any of these stereotypes to be remotely true? How would you react if someone were to say the same things now? Ricky: Once I moved out of the town to college in Berkeley, that sort of stuff just disappeared. Looking

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Photo Courtesy of Ricky Law

back, I am willing to be a lot more generous and understanding of those who teased me. Certainly more than when I was growing up. A lot of the kids in that town never ventured outside the county. They were born there and stayed there their whole life or they moved from one little town to another in the county. I can see that they just didn’t have a broad understanding of the world. If someone did something like that to me now (these days that sort of stuff is a lot more subtle), I just let it slide. There’s only so much time in a day, and I have better things to do than to get exercised by what others say to me. Grace: Did that in any way influence you to travel a lot and maybe even pursue Global History as a career? Ricky: I think in a subliminal way it did. I was perhaps one of those people who couldn’t wait to get out of high school and onto college. Just to get away from

it all. But I also did find my family a bit too much at times. As I said, while I was teased for being different, I also wanted my family to eliminate that difference, to assimilate so I wouldn’t get teased any more. So yes, maybe those factors did drive me away to travel, study, and work abroad. Lynnette: You traveled quite a bit more than your peers did. Where have you traveled in the past? Ricky: I am the youngest child in the family with two older sisters so I was always being “taken care of ” by my sisters and mom And establishing my independence was a big motivation for going abroad to study. I studied for a year in Germany, and during that year I saw much of eastern Europe. I went to Egypt, Italy (three times) and Britain. After I graduated I went to Japan to work for a year. I think there’s certainly a part of me who wanted to prove to my family that I can be independent and take care of

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myself. Lynnette: Based on your experiences overseas, do you think people have treated you differently as an “AsianAmerican” in different geographical communities? Ricky: Yes, certainly In Germany, and Europe at large, the people’s idea of Americans is basically what they see in TV or film, so basically they see Americans as either Caucasian or African American. Many times I would tell people in Europe I’m from America, and they would say, “where are you really from?” or “where are you originally from?” I was very annoyed by that at the beginning, but after a while I got over it. It’s their outlook and worldview, just like those kids who teased me. Most Europeans only see Caucasian and African Americans on screen. I can’t expect them to know better or have the cultural sensitivity that many of us in the US have. One particularly funny incident was that I was traveling with a Japanese-American friend we were at a hostel and some roommate gave us the “where are you originally from” question. My friend said, “Well I’m from LA, my dad’s from San Diego, my grandpa’s from LA too, my great-grandpa’s from Hawaii, and so was my great-great-grandpa.” He was doing it to show them how silly a question like that was, since he’s a fifth generation Japanese American. Grace: On the flip side, how do you distinguish your racial heritage from your American upbringing? (ie: when people ask where you are from do you declare yourself Chinese / Asian-American / American / other?) Ricky: I think of myself as American. Yes, I happened to have been born in a Cantonese family who emigrated from Hong Kong, but I certainly think of myself as American. Just as I grew up in a ChineseAmerican setting, I am also culturally trained in Germany and Japan. I dare say that I know more German and about Germany than many who call themselves “German Americans” in the US. There’s certainly a big part of Germany and Japan in me, but I don’t go about calling myself German or Japanese American. So even if I grew up in a Chinese American setting, it is something I don’t give much thought to. I certainly don’t get up each day thinking, how am I going to be a Chinese American today?

Grace: Speaking about German and Japanese history, what motivated your shift in focus from engineering to history? How did the people around you react to your decision? Ricky: Funny you ask, I was just talking to my mom last night about that decision. After the first year in engineering I knew it wasn’t for me. I remember the moment fairly vividly. I was walking home on a Friday evening in the fall semester. It was dark early, but the engineering building was all lit up with a lot of people staring at their computer screens. On a dark Friday evening. And I thought to myself, is that what I want for the rest of my life? And I thought no. I wanted to get into a career that I would enjoy. I know for sure that if I stayed in engineering and got a job there, that I would be counting the working hours each day, that I would dread Mondays. And I didn’t want to live life that way. So I just switched from engineering to history. I can say very certainly that there is not a day after that decision when I thought to myself, man, I wished I stayed in engineering. It is the smartest decision I ever made in my life. My mom reacted fairly calmly, to my surprise. She had some friends of friends who worked in some tech company in the Silicon Valley. We visited their house and it was pretty eye-opening. The dad was retired by his 40s, had a big house, good cars, etc. And my mom wanted that for me. It’s an immigrant mindset — practicality, security. What’s more practical and secure than a career in engineering? One doesn’t have to know English to understand the use of engineering. But history? The humanities? That’s so nebulous. “What are you going to do with that?” was a question I got a lot. Lynnette: Earlier you expressed that you had mixed feelings about getting good grades in school because you were living up to some stereotype but now you have a career in the humanities, not in a math/science field that others might expect an Asian American to work in. When you tell people your profession, do you expect to receive certain responses? Have these responses become somehow empowering for you an an Asian-American? Ricky: My mom told me that when our neighbors found out I changed my major to history, they

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thought it was “a waste of talent.” Well, it certainly is true that there are fewer Asian Americans in the humanities. It is something I am aware of but I don’t make a big deal about. I take tremendous pride in being an Asian American expert on German history who can speak German fluently. The expressions of surprise when I tell people that are something I take a lot of joy in. Yes, I live up to some stereotype by being an academic Asian American, but I also defy some by being an expert in German history, and by being an expert in Japanese history. Many people assume that I have some Japanese heritage, but I don’t. It is very empowering and liberating not to be imprisoned by the past or one’s heritage, which I have no control over. Someday maybe I’ll study and write about Chinese history, but that will be done out of choice, and not because I feel it’s part of my heritage or some obligation. Grace: Are there any particularly memorable on/offcampus experiences you’ve had recently that made you feel positive about being an Asian-American? Ricky: Well, this interview we are having. It reminds me of a lot of things in the past, my upbringing, family, education, etc. These days I am a lot more comfortable with who I am. I am not embarrassed to speak Chinese or Mandarin in public. In fact I see my ability to do so as an asset. It is a wonderful thing to know so many cultures and languages And I most certainly see my Chinese heritage as an asset now. Lynnette: The fact that you admit that you see your Chinese heritage as an asset now might inspire some Big Straw magazine readers to do the same. Ricky: It is not something I bring up a lot, but if the topic comes up I am not afraid to talk about it. It’s a growing process. If we had this conversation when I was in my late teens or even early 20s, I would sound very differently. I hope that I got a little wiser in recent years. But the old ghosts of wanting to assimilate, wanting to be the same with everybody else are hard to exorcise. I think even now there are moments when I don’t feel comfortable telling people about my heritage. But I am certainly a lot

better now than just a few years ago. It’s a growing process. I hope that by telling other Asian Americans about my growing process, that they don’t have to go through what I went through. And that they accept who they are, right away and without reserve. The past and one’s heritage can be an asset, I see it now. Lynnette: The forthcoming manner in which you answered all these interview questions was inspiring and we’re so glad that you had complete and intriguing responses. Grace: Hopefully, this interview was a positive opportunity to reflect on your Asian-American heritage and for Big Straw readers to have a better understanding of your life story! Ricky: I usually don’t talk about myself much. I don’t like drawing attention to myself. It’s something like second nature, probably because drawing attention might have meant teasing. But if my story can inspire others to feel better about their heritage or background, I would be more than happy to do so. After all, that is the point of studying history! The person interviewed here is Dr. Ricky Law, Ph.D. Dr. Law grew up in the Central Coast of California. In 2012, he graduated from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill with a M.A. and Ph.D. in History with a concentration in Global History. He became Carnegie Mellon University Department of History faculty in 2013. According to his biography on the department’s website, “Dr. Law developed his passions for researching and teaching modern global and comparative history from his experiences in studying, working, and traveling in Europe and East Asia. He is especially intrigued by the ways various cultures have perceived one another across boundaries and the processes through which certain ideas have found resonance throughout the world.” Dr. Law is the author of several articles examining GermanJapanese relations and is currently working on his own book project which “examines the conceptual origins of Japanese-German rapprochement in the two civil societies during the interwar years.” (Source: http://www.history.cmu.edu/faculty/law.html)

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Photo Courtesy of Ricky Law

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South Asians As Asians Satvika Neti

One of my earliest experiences with race in the United States was when I had to check that box that asked me to identify myself was on my elementary school application. “What is your race/ ethnicity?” it would ask me. My options were “White,” “African American,” “Asian or Pacific Islander,” or “Other.” I selected the “Other” option for probably a good 8 or 9 years of my life before I realized I, as an Indian American, should really be selecting the “Asian or Pacific Islander” option. It didn’t even occur to me that I was Asian, because for a long time, I thought only East Asians were Asian. This mindset was the product of multiple things. A friend and I were at Pitt’s Hillman Library the other day, and I noticed the department sections on the wall. They had a whole section on African American studies, on East Asian studies, Latin American studies, and European studies. There wasn’t even a mention of South Asian studies. The world is fixated on the Israel/Palestine debate, and with the conflict in Northern Ireland – an entire library could be built solely for all of the books and papers written about those issues – while another conflict that is a product of British imperialism, the India/Pakistan conflict over Kashmir and Jammu that’s been going on for almost 50 years now, gets little to absolutely no coverage. South Asians are constantly and persistently being erased from the conversation about race specifically in America as well. People talk about Asian Studies and Asian American immigrant struggles, but no one ever talks about South Asian American immigrant struggles during these conversations. It’s almost always about East Asian immigrants. People talk about Asian American solidarity toward the Ferguson protests, and connect it back to the “Yellow Peril supports Black Power” movements in the 1960’s, but no one ever talks about how that only encompasses part of Asia. It’s not Asian American solidarity, it’s East Asian American solidarity. It’s the same with media – an Asian immigrant show is called “Fresh off the Boat” and focuses solely on East Asian immigrants. “Asian” food means East Asian food. Part of this is because of the Pan Asia phenomenon, a phenomenon where people, usually in the Western world, take the biggest continent on the Earth and all of the diversity in language, culture, people and food, in that continent, and whittle it down to one idealized view of what they think is “Asian.” And this idealized view of what “Asian” is usually one of three countries on the east coast of Asia: China, Japan, or Korea. Everyone knows, geographically, that India, Bhutan, Mongolia, and Indonesia, are in Asia, but when everything that is marketed as “Asian” is from one of those three countries, it’s hard to keep that in mind. Southeast Asians and people from central Asia, and South Asians to an extent, are usually the ones that bear the brunt of this erasure, especially when considering the Asian American immigrant experience.

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This leads into the model minority myth – the myth that political figureheads like Bill O’Reilly like to throw around that tells us that Asian Americans have it the best of any minority here in America. That they have it better than white people here in American, actually, and so therefore white privilege isn’t a real thing and hard work can get you anywhere in life if you want it enough. It’s a myth because it only takes into account Asian immigrants from these countries that we’ve talked about, and a very little about India, but nowhere else in South, Southeast, or Central Asia. This helps in creating that divide between South Asians and East Asians as well. When South Asians don’t see themselves represented in even the statistics that talk about Asian Americans, it’s hard to identify with that label. I also wonder if the model minority myth doesn’t play into this issue in a different way – in the way that East Asians and South Asians compete to be the model minority. Religion also plays a huge part of this issue. South Asia is branded as much more concentrated with a larger variety of religions than most of East Asia is. The othering of South Asia is pervasive throughout Western culture through the “Eat Pray Love” mentality. That South Asia is so spiritual and so exotic – the “finding yourself in exotic places” mentality – is the oriental myth that continues to drive a wedge between South Asia and East Asia. This divide culminates in dangerous ways. A friend once commented to me that he’d never seen an interracial couple with an East Asian person and a South Asian person before, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t either. It means less representation in media because as soon as we have one TV show or character about Asian people – whether that’s Fresh Off the Boat with East Asians or Kalinda Sharma in The Good Wife – we feel as if we don’t need anything else, and the other group feels robbed of their representation. I’m not sure exactly how to close this yawning gap in between these two vibrant and diverse areas of the world, just that it must be.

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Jasen Blakney’s New Home Abroad Lana Li

During Jasen Blakney’s first week in Shanghai, he

In Shanghai, Blakney lived in the Yangpu

was asleep on the subway when someone tapped

District and studied at the Shanghai University

him on the shoulder and told him he was at the

of Finance and Economics. He took a level four

end of Line 9. He had missed his stop and had no

Chinese course, where he learned advanced Chinese

idea where he was.

both from a standard textbook as well as from a

“I was lost for eight hours, half the day,” said

colloquial perspective. Outside of school, Blakney

Blakney. “I ended up calling my program director,

indulged in food and devoted much of his time to

then saw someone from my program, and we

travel and adventures, including a day spent hiking

walked 10 miles back together.”

in Huangshan in eastern China.

Blakney studied abroad in Shanghai in fall 2013.

A business major and Chinese minor, Blakney

At the time, he was a junior who had taken two

was intrigued by the language and business

and a half years of Chinese before deciding to

opportunities in Shanghai. He wanted a better grasp

study abroad in China. Despite learning a lot in his

of the Chinese language and was excited to test his

Chinese classes at Carnegie Mellon, he found that

speaking skills. He was glad to see that most of the

he could barely mutter a single word of Mandarin

natives understood his Chinese and that he never

when he got off the plane.

completely misunderstood what was spoken to him.

“I was nervous,” said Blakney. “But I realized

However, Blakney realized that speaking Mandarin

after the first couple of days that you have to use

in a classroom setting is quite different from speaking

Chinese when you’re in China. The majority of

Mandarin with a native. Blakney made many of his

people there are really nice and if you speak a little

Chinese friends through basketball and was able to

bit of Chinese, they open up significantly.”

learn colloquial Chinese by talking to locals. “One

Before arriving in Shanghai, Blakney knew that

of my favorite things about Shanghai were the super

he would be experiencing a drastically different

friendly people,” he said. “Taxi drivers were some of

lifestyle. Nevertheless, the city took him by surprise.

the best conversationists I’ve ever met.”

“The architecture in Shanghai is the coolest

In his four months in Shanghai, Blakney was able

architecture I’ve ever seen. The Bund, where the

to improve on his language skills. His only regret

river goes through Shanghai, and the Pearl Tower

is that he did not stay longer. “The last week I was

literally look like something out of the Jetsons. I

there was when I finally felt like my conversational

admire the scenery and the way the city is built.”

proficiency was kicking in, and then I had to leave

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Photo Courtesy of Jasen Blakney

the next week. But I was still really happy about the

and fulfilled his wish of exploring different facets of

progress I made.”

Chinese culture.

On top of that, China is the second largest

One of Blakney’s most memorable experiences

economy. To take advantage of Shanghai’s business

was going on a bamboo boat ride on the Lijiang

opportunities, Blakney worked as a finance intern at

River in Guilin. He recalls that when he first started

a private equity firm. During his time at the firm, he

studying Chinese, his professor showed the class a

was also invited to go on a business trip with seniors

photo of the Lijiang River. Since then, Blakney had

at the company.

wanted to see the river in person. It wasn’t a tourist

Outside of work, Blakney was constantly out

area, so Blakney had to walk through a village and

and about exploring. As an intern and as a tourist,

farmer’s field. The river was lined with bamboo

Blakney observed two nearly opposite lifestyles.

boats and tour guides. “I felt like I was actually in

At his internship, he had contact with some of the

that picture,” he said. “Guilin is by far the most

richest businessmen in China and ate at the most

beautiful place.”

expensive restaurants in Shanghai. As a tourist,

Blakney also enjoyed practicing his bargaining

Blakney witnessed the not-so-wealthy side of China

skills. In the beginning of his trip, he was not

in the countryside. The contrast was eye-opening

aware of the ‘walk away’ strategy. “I bargained

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and bargained. I didn’t know that if I started at a

but when you go abroad, not only do you get a taste

ridiculously low price that they wouldn’t accept and

of a different college, but also the different types of

walked away, they would call me back,” he said.

people that you interact with. I wanted to be in a

“You might not get that super low price, but you’ll

place where I would be completely separated from

get something pretty good.”

the culture I was familiar with.”

Blakney experienced all that Shanghai had to

After returning to the United States, Blakney

offer, from authentic cuisine to the cancellation of

recalls experiencing “an unexpected reverse culture

classes because of high air pollution levels. He was

shock.”

amused by the cultural differences between China

“I expected to have a really, really good time in

and America, noticing that because China is so

Shanghai,” said Blakney, “but it was more than that.

populated, there was a different concept of personal

It was life-changing. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

space. Blakney also noticed more serious differences

I only wish I had stayed longer. I will also miss

between American and Chinese culture. “You

authentic red braised pork and steamed buns.”

could see the effect of a communist government when it comes to freedom of religion. The Chinese

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

don’t have as much social freedom that we take for granted in America,” he said.

Blakney is a senior from North Carolina majoring in

For Blakney, the value of a completely different

Business Administration and minoring in Chinese.

cultural experience is the novelty of it. “I feel like we

He is on the varsity basketball team at Carnegie

are sometimes in a bubble at Carnegie Mellon,” said

Mellon. After graduation, he will be working at

Blakney. “There’s a lot of intellectual diversity here,

Bank of America Merrill Lynch in New York City.

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Photo Courtesy of Jasen Blakney

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Reaching the Ethereal / Grace Wong / flameless candles, tissue paper, wire

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Dhaka in Transit Snigdha Roy

Welcome Namoskar, passengers, and a good day to you! Welcome to this self-guided tour of Dhaka, Bangladesh. Considering the traffic congestion you see today, and actually everyday, it is highly unlikely you will reach more than a few of your desired destinations. Nonetheless, please go ahead and take a seat. I hope you enjoy Dhaka in transit as you go on your way. Dhaka In Transit You are in a compact car, it’s a muggy afternoon, and your father’s face literally looks like the colon-slash smiley face :-\ as he folds his legs trying to fit into the corner of the car. Being the properly hospitable Bengali that he is, he has extended the use of your private ride to his friend and his son. This leaves you and your brother, your father and mother, scrunched in the back seats like four tennis balls in a tube for three. Meanwhile, your father’s friend’s son is an absolute monkey. Not only is the pre-schooler enjoying the cockpit, he is doing some sort of balancing act with his feet not half a foot from the gear. Your father’s friend doesn’t think this is a problem. Neither, it seems, does the driver. But your mother gets nervous enough to request

the kid be put on his father’s lap, and you breathe a sigh of relief for having made it this far. Worry not, fellow passengers! It is actually safer to transport yourself via vehicle than on foot. Or so are about to discover as you decide to take a look out the window to try to pass the time. What You See Through glaring sunlight and swirling dust, you mean? A lot of things. Cars, buses, rickshaws, cows, people, motorcycles. The women replace vibrantly-colored saris over their heads. Golden nose rings sparkle. Vermillion streams down their hair like widows peaks. The men, on the other hand, sweat and glisten like chocolate, mopping up their faces with thin cotton towels draped around their shoulders. They wear lungis, a plaid piece of flannel wrapped around their waists, and hike these up for ease of movement as they filter down the streets in the most dangerous game of Frogger ever. Look at him go! You’ll notice that man didn’t even wait for the traffic to slow — he just leapt on right in there! Drivers expect that sort of thing around here. In fact, there’s no way you’ll cross otherwise! See? He’s just about dancing through six lanes of chaos — hop, hop, back up, hop — one hand held up as if deflecting traffic by the power of The Force.

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On Mammoth Buses We don’t have Pittsburgh’s long, accordion buses here, but the buses we do have are something else entirely. Take that one, for instance. It is basically the equivalent of obesity on yours: like the body of a Boeing it fits six across an aisle, and the people are packed in so deep the driver can’t see the side view mirror. Correction. It doesn’t have a side view mirror. It has a busboy. A literal busboy. Hanging out the doorless doorway of the average Bangla bus, the busboy hollers the okay to merge left in the place of the mirror. Or at least that’s what you’d think his job is. Alas, ’tis not the case! You see, it doesn’t matter how wide, how long or how tall Bangladesh decides to make its buses: there will never be enough room for everyone. So instead, we pack them full like a middle schooler’s binder. You may start expecting people to pour out the open windows. And don’t be surprised to see three or four heads swing out the doorway with the angular momentum of every right turn. Yes. Those are in fact the people crowded on the stairway, clinging to one measly rail, and lo and behold, our brave warrior the busboy is hanging on for dear life, trying to contain the masses in a glorious effort, like the strained silver buckle on a fat man’s belt. The fact of the matter is — the silver buckle? — that’s his job description. Entirely. On Traffic Lanesv Traffic lanes don’t exist. Correction. The effects of traffic lanes don’t exist. A fair amount of the population can read Bangla and maybe half of those read English as well, but when it

comes traffic, we are all illiterate. You haven’t noticed yet, have you? It’s the most amazing thing: we are driving directly on the yellow line. Heck, you could be doing anything when you decide to ignore the lanes. You could even go backwards! And don’t worry about it. You’re not going to get killed. With a line of cars behind you, you’ll just start an impromptu lane. The second most amazing thing is running red lights in succession, and then stopping for the cows. As you can see, Bengali drivers will do anything to get even an inch or two ahead, even if it means putting everyone else in a jam. Correction. They are always in a traffic jam. And when I say jam, we’re talking a whole new level of jam. At least in America we all face the same direction. Leave it to the Bengalis to turn a simple, four-way intersection into a full-blown vortex of doom. There are cars, there are buses and there are rickshaws going every single direction. The only directions they are not going are up and down. And yes, by this point, walking is in fact a faster mode of transport, but are you really going to chance crossing these streets? At least in a car you have a few sheets of metal between you and everyone else. On The Leading Edge Of Transportation You think there are too many people on the road now, but come Eid time, Bangladesh becomes a festive mob. With an approximately 86% Muslim population, population density goes from the city to the country for this holiday. Everyone is going home to their villages and there is nothing that can stop them except for everybody else. Thus ferries sink in the river, the cars on the road don’t move, and there

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are as many people inside the trains as there are on

some space, one daring rickshaw-wallah has taken

top of them.

it upon himself to pass us anyway — and promptly jams his rickshaw between the wall and the car.

On Bathroom Breaks You don’t need to go to the bathroom, do you? Well, good. See, in America, you pull over to the nearest gas station and go. Sometimes you have to ask the teen at the counter for a key. In Bangladesh, at least in the case of five year-old monkeys, you just slide open the van door in the middle of the road. On Moving Forward Uh-oh. Judging by the start-and-stop nature of our trip, the monkey’s about to get carsick. No

It looks like a shouting match is about to ensue, and I am not sure when we will be able to get back out of the car. Please excuse us for this inconvenience. We assure you will be able to get out before your toes have fallen off from lack of circulation. In fact, we just got back during the two no-electricity hours mandated for the entire city, so you’ll have seven flights of stairs in which to stretch out those legs and return back to normal. Disembarkment

problem: just tell him to count all the rickshaws you

Congratulations. You have survived another evening

pass! Since he doesn’t know what it means to over

in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Please calmly exit the vehicle,

count yet, he will exuberantly count the same six

collect your thirty shopping bags of suspiciously

rickshaws 107 times before you occupy him with

discounted items, and proceed to the unlit stairway

something else.

in the corner of the garage. I urge that you do not pet

On Getting Home Getting into a residential area could be tricky business. See how narrow these roads here are? Men

the stray animals. I repeat: please do not pet the stray animals. Thank you for choosing Bangladesh. I hope our fantastic cuisine and unparalleled hospitality make up for all your troubles.

sidle around the car’s side view mirrors, running their Made In Bangladesh dress shirts against brick walls trying to get past us. The yellow ground is dotted with gray-green puddles, each of which may be hiding a pothole large enough to trap a small car. Just hold still; you’re almost back. Oh, but of course. Now that we found the gates to the parking lot of our building, the driver realizes he has driven too far and does not have enough room to turn into the lot. But don’t worry! The “door keeper” man in charge of security will help us take care of this problem. Just kidding! Whereas he waves the rickshaw-wallahs behind us to move back, scoot back, scoot back, give

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Photo Courtesy of Julia Ainbinder

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A Chat with Sam Ahmed: Sassy, Classy, and Stressed David Wu

I was lucky enough to have a chance to sit down with Sam Ahmed and get to know him better. Sam is a senior studying communication design. His father is from Sudan and his mother is from Vietnam and was raised in China and France. Sam is a relatively big name on campus and I thought that since he is part Asian, the Asian community would like to know more about how he influences his peers, his experience with the Asian community, and a bit of his unique personal life.

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What are you planning to do after you graduate? I suppose that’s the key question, isn’t it? I don’t know. I don’t think I’m going to get my dream job straight out of graduation, because there are a lot of causes and topics and things I’m really passionate about. I design and I dance and I do theatre and I want to do all of those things, and the job that pays you to do all of those things isn’t really something that’s entry level. What is your dream job? What do you wish you were doing after you graduate? I would like to be doing freelance design. It lets me meet a lot of different people and tackle a lot of different projects, and also I like working with my friends. I’ve been doing commission work for a long time and I think that’s my favorite kind of design work. I get to help out people that I like and also do design. So I’d like to do freelance design and also [dance and do theatre] on the side. How did you get into dance? I have always wanted to dance since I was 3. I asked my parents if I could go to hip hop classes… but my parents [could not afford them]. In high school, the dance club was really cliquey and they didn’t like me at all. So I did musical theatre instead. I didn’t really start dancing until I came to CMU, so I haven’t been formally trained. You are part of Delta Tau Delta, a campus fraternity. Why did you join a fraternity? When I came to CMU I joined Scotch’n’Soda and DS straight off the bat. I was very cynical about fraternities, being from the arts. Spring semester I began to realize that a lot of my S’n’S friends were in Delt. My friend Corey tricked me into going to rush; she asked me to hang out, then told me she forgot to go to this thing and said ‘Do you want to come?’ I was very indifferent. [She brought me] to a rush event and I saw all my friends there and said to myself, ‘Oh this is cool.’ How has joining a fraternity changed you or the way you view college? I also joined because I wanted to get better at talking to guys. I just get very intimidated by guys a lot, especially if they’re not from the arts. Mostly, guys that aren’t from the arts hate guys from the arts. So most of my friends are girls, just because of common interests and things like that. So I wanted to be better at interacting in an all-male environment. I do well now, but I used to do pretty poorly in [an environment like that]. It’s just a different way of interacting I guess. So would you say you’re a lot more confident around guys now? Yea, at least guys my age. Guys older than me are still scary. Guys younger than me are definitely still scary. It’s a different kind of scary with younger guys. I got bullied a lot in high school and through all of grade school. So it’s not a logical fear, it’s more that when you get placed into situations that remind you of your past, you regress and suddenly you’re 12 years old and you hate everyone.

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So a big workload is a fairly common part of student life here at CMU. I know you’ve done a lot of work on stress culture. What is your take on stress culture and its effect on the students here? I got accepted to do an installation show on stress culture. Installation is when you transform the space itself into art, as opposed to putting art in the space. Examples of installation art include when people hang a million pieces of paper from the ceiling. Are you familiar with the term microaggression? Microaggression is a term generally used to talk about racism. Microaggression is defined as a small event or happening, that on its own isn’t that big of a deal, but put together these events are an indication of a very big problem. The big thing is that stress sucks, obviously. We don’t like it, but a lot of the time it can fuel your passions and it can drive you to do great things, and a lot of the time it’s pretty necessary for the kind of caliber of work we do here. But we also do things that aren’t necessarily productive, so my take on stress culture is that our stress culture is mostly a lot of microaggressions. For example, your friend asks you: “Hey, did you do the homework for this thing?” and you reply: “No I haven’t done it yet, I totally forgot” and your friend says: “Oh what, you forgot? You’re only taking 36 units!” Not a big deal, but maybe you have a lot going on in your life and your friend just jumps to this conclusion. Things we say that are jokes but sometimes not jokes [are also examples of microaggression]. For example an architecture student makes a facebook status: “I just pulled my third all-nighter in a row!” and probably gets a lot of likes and kind of gets this badge of honor. At the same time, that status represents a lifestyle that’s messed up. Stress culture is a lot of these little things, and it’s these little things that are perpetuating the stress. Obviously we need a certain level of stress but we don’t really need to be perpetuating it. I think that those little reminders that just jab at you are kind of what make people feel overwhelmed. Do you think at CMU, stress is a lot more prominent or a lot more defined than it is at other schools? Obviously I don’t go to other schools so I couldn’t really tell you, but I would guess that it’s probably worse than it is at a lot of schools, or on par with the really good universities. I think that it’s a culture that can be prevalent in any sort of institution that does a lot of high caliber work. I’ve talked to a lot of adults about this, like faculty and admin, and they say things like: “Alright this is…just college. But stress culture follows you past graduation. I’ve heard stories from faculty about amazing students doing incredible things and just kept doing that after graduation, and it got too much and we’ve lost people. Which is kind of scary. So you think stress is just a thing you have to do for college but in reality a lot of people leave CMU and just keep going. So any institution that does high caliber work probably has this kind of stress culture.

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Because you want to do great work and you want that glory and you want to be the best and do great things, I think a lot of people think that if you pull 10 million all-nighters you’ll get there. Sometimes that’s the case for some people and sometimes it’s not. So I think at CMU stress is definitely prevalent. Everyone knows 3-5 people that have their own startup already and are quitting school to get bought out for like 40 million bucks. The classic CMU homepage story. So you’re constantly thinking about what’s on the homepage, I guess. We’re always focused on what’s on the homepage and how we get there and we don’t always focus on what we sacrifice along the way. So the theme of my work is “My Heart is is the Work” and I translate that to “I have the passion and drive to make it worth it.” I think the question “When is it worth it?” is a very important question that everyone should be asking themselves about pretty much everything. Say you take on another club. What are you getting out of that club? Is it worth the time you put in? It’s okay to say yes, but once you say yes you kind of have to accept what you got yourself into. If you run down the list of things people do for an organization you could probably find 2 or 3 things that they don’t think is worth it. But they’re still doing it. Why? What has your relationship with your parents been like? Pretty poor. I identify as queer. My father is very religious and my mother is very old fashioned, like many Asian parents. I came out at 14. At that point my parents were divorced and I was living with my mom. My mom walked in on me and so I was forced to come out. She kicked me out and I went to live with my dad. For all logistical purposes he was a normal parent; he gave me money for things, paid for whatever I needed, and I slept in my own bedroom. But he was definitely more of an emotional abuse kind of guy. So everything would be like an attack or very passive aggressive. Living with him really sucked. So when is the last time you saw your parents? I went home this winter break for 3 days. Before that I don’t think I went home for about 2 and a half years. Recently I’ve started talking to my mother this past year and she’s kind of come around, she’s not thrilled but if she asks who I’m dating it’s not a big deal. Before that I hadn’t talked to her for years. I didn’t talk to her much through high school. My father…I can’t tell yet because I haven’t been home enough to know but he seems to have adopted the “don’t ask don’t tell” policy. Do you ever think things will be different in the future? I think I’m slowly rebuilding my relationship with my mother. She kicked me out and that’s a very strong move. I don’t think things with my father will change. I think things with my mother changed because she cares about me a lot and some of her negative emotions came from that…versus my father who was very confrontational about it, very aggressive, and wasn’t necessarily listening.

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You haven’t had a lot of contact with your parents in the past few years so has that made you more independent or changed you in some way? Well I’ve always been very independent, mostly because my parents weren’t around. My mother is a nurse and sleeps during the day and my father usually has two jobs. When I moved with father he was usually at the house between the hours of 2:00 AM and 8:00 AM only. So I would do all the groceries, all the cleaning, and all the cooking. So I guess I’ve always been independent. Coming to college wasn’t really a transition for me. It was a physical transition but the whole “moving away from home” was not any different. Not communicating with my parents has definitely made me a lot more independent. I think it’s made me a lot worse at interacting with adults because I think you learn a lot of that from interacting with your parents.On the flip side it’s made me really good at talking to people my own age because I had to look to peers for support at school. I had to get really good at making friends because my parents wouldn’t really give me any opportunities. How active have you been in learning about your Asian heritage and how active have you been in the Asian community both in where you’ve been and where you are now? That’s kind of a tricky question. The Asians at my high school, for the most part, tended to hang out with each other as they tend to do in a lot of situations, which makes sense. So the Asian communities at my school were very cliquey and because I was half black, and this goes back to the idea of microaggression, a lot of the time I would be in weird situations. For example, people would comment on how there would be 5 Asians in the room. I would say “Hey I’m Asian, so there’s 6,” and people would say “No you’re half, you don’t count.” A lot of the time people would just discount me completely. Since you’re half black, we’re going to count you as all black. That has been my experience. People have mostly ostracized me, I guess. So I’ve never necessarily been that involved with the community. Also, because my mother is from Vietnam and spoke Cantonese when she was in China, a lot of her cultural habits she passed on to me didn’t align with those of the Asian majority at my high school. A lot of them spoke Mandarin, and there was a very small Vietnamese population. I suppose the way my personality developed, I don’t fit in with the Asian community. Due to my theatre and performance background, I’m very outspoken, very loud, and very blunt about how I feel about things. For the most part, Asian communities are more laid back, which isn’t a bad thing at all. I just don’t mesh as well with them as I do with other communities that I’m in. I would like to learn more about Asian culture, but I spend a lot of time being scared because those sorts of microaggressions haven’t necessarily ended. I think in Asian communities, if you’re not full Asian, it’s very hard to fit in.

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So I think it’s safe to say that you’ve been through a lot of different kinds of surroundings. What is your favorite aspect of CMU? I feel like it’s kind of cheesy, but I love the passion and drive that this school has. People aren’t just messing around here; if they’re doing ECE, they take that and wire up a whole booth. If they’re doing CS, they’re trying to build crazy things that actually work. If they’re in theatre, you never see them because they’re in rehearsal for top notch shows. For example, the other day I was working on this video teaser for carnival, and I went to a composition major and said: “Hey man, do you want to write the music?” He responded with, of course: “Should I round up musicians to record?” That answer was just the definition of CMU. Not only could I find someone to compose music, but he could find someone to perform it, and someone to produce. Things like that happen in every department. We have crazy talented, devoted students who are working together to do cool stuff.

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Reflections of the Self / Grace Wong / pastel

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Grandfather Eric Lee

My grandfather passed away three years ago to a tumor that metastasized

in his brain when he was 80 years old. Of all the people, I would have never thought he would succumb to a ball of cells. My mom would tell me he worked out everyday, keeping active until his diagnosis. He kept his mind sharp by playing games, spending time with my cousins and reading newspapers. But I guess that was not enough as sharpness turned into dullness. I visited him the summer before his death, knowing very well that it would be my last time seeing him.

Since I visit Taiwan only once every three/four years, I technically never spent that much time

with him. And when I did spend time with him, it would be at 1) the dinner table or 2) when we are the two at the mall carrying shopping bags for grandma and mom. I think one of our favorite topics to discuss was the weather and food. It would never be about his or my personal life. You would think he would ask how I was doing in school, life, etc. Nope. It was quite the bonding time.

But that was when he was healthy. That summer, our conversations would, 90% of the time, go

nowhere because the instant an idea formed in his brain, the tumor took it away. Why all the gloom? This story seems like it isn’t reaching a point that this magazine is all about: Culture; Movement; Time. However, we get into those things right now. Surprisingly, it was during the time when he was confused, blabbering away about nonsense, that he accidently spit out a short personal story. And this is what I am going tell you about now. ***

He was born in Beijing in the year 1931 into a lower to middle class family that made a living off

of selling wine. Their company was well established; it’s rumored that some people even traveled miles just to get a taste of their wine. He had his dreams set when he was little; to take over the family business when he was older and spread the wine to even farther places.

That never got to happen though. When he was eighteen and just graduated high school, the

Chinese Civil War reached Beijing. 1949. Chaos ensued. Communist Mao Zedong was knocking on his door and it wasn’t because he wanted to buy some wine. Conditions worsened to a point that my grandfather’s family decided to shut down the business and go into hiding. I don’t know how long or where they went to refuge, but as a family they ended up deciding that they would escape to a small island called Taiwan. They had no idea what was in store in the future; all that mattered was that they weren’t killed. According to my grandfather, the way they relatively stayed safe was following

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right behind the Nationalist army. It was at that point of the war, that there was no way for a comeback. Of course they, didn’t get too close: both sides of the army have killed civilians in confusion.

They traveled many miles, over mountains and rivers, to escape to possibly a better place. All they

knew was that they had to walk to the coast. They knew there would probably be many others like them hoping there was a glimmer of hope of safety. They hoped there was even a boat. But it wasn’t a journey without troubles. During their trek, something horrible happened. ***

In the hospital room, this when my grandfather got a bit excited. He kept saying to “get rid of the

fire” and to “get his ID, wallet and official documentation”. My grandmother would calm him and saying that there is no fire and his stuff are safe in his drawer. “We gotta get out!” my grandfather exclaimed. ***

Turned out his family and the group they were traveling got captured by Communist soldiers. The

details are blurry, but apparently, the soldiers were going to burn them to death in some forest. After setting the whole place on fire, the soldiers left with most of their belongings. The miraculous part is that somehow, my grandfather and his family, along with a couple other families escaped. We have absolutely no idea how, but their journey continued.

It was x days/weeks/months later that they reached the coast. It was a mass gathering. People

everywhere trying to find ships that would take them across the strait to Taiwan. Eventually they found a boat with a couple seats remaining. The only plot twist? One gold bar per ticket, please. I don’t know exactly know how life savings worked back then, but my grandfather’s family brought along with them their life savings, all compacted into one gold bar. So one bar meant one ticket. The family decided my grandfather should be the one to go.

He was the youngest of the family and most educated. They felt he would have the best opportunity

to do well in Taiwan. They paid the man his gold bar, and my grandfather hopped onto the boat.

He never saw his family again.

Then history happened. The Republic of China, the Nationalists, whatever name you want to

call them, was defeated. The Communists successfully took over China, forcing whatever small army the Nationalists had to retreat to Taiwan. According to sources, between 1.8 million and 3.5 million people were killed during the war, many of them innocent. Only 2 million were able to make it across to the island. ***

It’s unfortunate that I could never talk about this with my grandfather. It feels like I missed the most

important parts of his identity. He ended up with a good life in Taiwan. He worked as a fisherman, made decent money and married my awesome grandmother (who helped me fill in some parts of this short story). Maybe he purposely didn’t tell us all of this explicitly because he didn’t want his past overshadowing his present. His journey from China to Taiwan could have come out of a movie script. But nevertheless, he found his way and made the best of it. He was a mysterious man; a man that I wish that I got to know better.

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Anatta / Grace Wong / linoleum block, paint

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Photo Courtesy of Cathy Bao Bean Cathy Bao Beanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s parents, older sister, and herself (4 years old) the summer after they arrived in the U.S. from China, 1947.

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Functional Generalizations: Thoughts on a Chinese-American Life By Kathy Huang

In a previous incarnation, she was a cook, student, carpool driver, university board member, and a philosophy teacher at Montclair State College in New Jersey. Now, she is a daughter, mother, wife, friend, sister, aerobics instructor, and business manager, among other things. She is none other than Cathy Bao Bean. Bao Bean was born Bao Guiyi in the Chinese city of Guilin. Nicknamed “little bandit”, Bao Bean immigrated to the United States at the age of four. She is the multitalented author of The Chopsticks-Fork Principle: A Memoir and Manual, as well as a co-author of The Chopsticks-Fork Principle x2, a bilingual reader. Fundamentally a memoir, The Chopsticks-Fork Principle weaves a web full of life stories through which Bao Bean developed her wisdom and sense of humor to bridge her Chinese heritage with her American environments. After reading the memoir, I was lucky enough to sit down with Bao Bean over the phone to collect some additional thoughts, including about why the book is also a “manual.” Throughout a laughter-filled two hours, we discussed a variety of cultural maneuvers involved in being Chinese while living in America. Religion Around the middle of the memoir, Bao Bean recounts a time in her childhood when her mother insisted that because she lived in America, she ought to learn about American religion by going to church with a Caucasian friend. Since many Asian parents become devoutly Christian upon immigrating to the U.S., I asked Bao Bean about her thoughts on how Asians and Americans view religion differently. She explained that for Westerners, religion is about believing in certain “truths,” such as the events of the Bible. However, for Asians, religion is a set of instructions for practical behavior. For example, Confucianism is often thought of as an Asian religion, and its sayings, such as “when anger rises, think of the consequences,” are guides for proper social conduct or attitudes about what one is doing. Bao Bean gives the example of her father describing his retirement as “doing nothing,” as opposed to later generations of older Caucasian-Americans, who think of themselves as being “active” in the community by performing volunteer or less strenuous paid work. In a Confucian system, which emphasizes filial piety, children are supposed to support their retired parents, who have only to enjoy the fruits of raising their children well. Success When I asked Bao Bean about how the duality of Chinese and American cultures informed her idea of success, I thought she was going to tell me something about rebelling against tiger mothers. However, Bao Bean related success back to the structure of filial piety. In a family of three children, as in hers, each child has a role: the eldest child is to become rich and famous, the middle child is to become a great scholar, and the youngest child is to become the primary caretaker of the parents. To be successful in a Chinese family is to fulfill the designated role, and Bao Bean, the middle of three sisters, was expected to get a Ph.D. (and teach somewhere her mother had heard of!). As she did not, Bao Bean relates with something of a harsh laugh, her mother declared that she hated her shortly before passing away. However, the “hatred” was not in a personal sense, as Americans would suppose. In fact, shortly after the declaration, Bao Bean’s mother entrusted her second daughter with the power of attorney and thereby indicated a respect independent of her shame for not having a “scholar” in the family. Bao Bean does say, though, that the definition of success is more complex now than in a less multicultural past.

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Americanization With success harder to pinpoint when the Occidental and Oriental mix, I also asked Bao Bean what she thought of the Americanization of Chinese children. She said, “It’s going to happen because of travel, media, et cetera, so nurture the process with good humor and careful analysis of what values should endure.” Many Chinese parents try to make sure their children remember their heritage, for example, by sending them to Chinese school, and are concerned when they still cannot speak Chinese without an accent. According to Bao Bean, though, the important thing is to develop a set of values, both Chinese and American, and then apply them to achieve happiness and success. The degree to which “Americanization” works positively is to answer the question, “To what extent is my child or my parents relating to me out of duty or dependence, as opposed to enjoyment?” Speaking more generally about Americanization, Bao Bean explained that when immigrants arrive in a new country, they are outsiders, the “them” group. Over time, as they endure hardships to achieve a socioeconomic foothold, they settle into the “us” group of the no-longer-new country. At this point, they see new immigrants as “them,” and in wanting to protect what they have gained against the infiltrating “them,” they attempt to pull up their drawbridge. Inevitably, this will fail, as everyone comes into constant contact with “them.” Therefore, it is crucial not to fear “them,” but to maintain core principles from the different cultural backgrounds. Humor Towards the end of the interview, I thought I would ask the funny, zany Bao Bean about humor. Right away, she told me that because the Chinese language is tonal, it’s natural that a lot of the humor is linguistic, punning with words that sound alike. Often, these puns play on similar pronunciations between English (widely spoken in China) and creative combinations of Chinese characters. In contrast, Americans tend to poke fun at themselves. Bao Bean explains that this is partly because being bilingual, seen as too “them,” is often not supported in America. Thus, most “Americans” only speak English, and do not have another language off of which to bounce witty repartee. As a general guideline, though, Bao Bean believes that good humor should not be at the expense of others. Instead, humor should help both the teller and the audience members develop the capacity to see things from different perspectives. Everyone has several selves (more on that later), and the job of humor is to supply us with the flexibility to accept and love all of our selves so that we become whole; ad hominem humor only makes us feel insecure about one or more of these selves. The Takeaway Bao Bean had me note that her main goal is to help people understand the differences that underlie being both Chinese and American through understanding functional generalizations, not perpetuating dysfunctional stereotypes. Every group, including that of Chinese-Americans, is culturally diverse by age, gender, sexual orientation, and other criteria, a direct result of the people in the group being internally diverse. As Bao Bean insists, we are all at least bicultural, and we have to discover how to fit our several selves into our many social surroundings. Regarding her own family, Bao Bean explains that socially, she is Asian, referring to the idea that in Asian society, everyone is a part of a network. A person is not so much an individual as a node in the infrastructural web of a given community, ranging from the family to an entire country. Each person is expected to both serve and depend on others in order to maintain the system. On the other hand, Caucasian-Americans, such as Bao Bean’s husband, have a primarily self-sufficient, individualistic mindset. That is, there is no innate obligation to contribute to other people’s lives, although it’s good if such contributions occur as byproducts of caring for the self. Association with others is by choice, and because of common interests rather than duty. Thus, for Americans, family and friends are linear relationships, but each line is not tied into the others in an Asian-style

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Photo Courtesy of Cathy Bao Bean William, Cathy Bao Bean’s grandchildren, and herself “grungy after fishing,” 2012.

network. If both the Asian and American social systems can be thought of like maps, Asians might be said to view themselves as city-block intersections holding the streets together, while each American is his or her own proverbial Rome, to which all acquaintances lead. In non-social matters, Bao Bean and her husband, Bennett Bean, are just the opposite. Socially branched, she is a linear, logical thinker when it comes to practical problems while he, as an artist, runs his imagination to ends of his neurons in pursuit of beauty. For example, for the kitchen in their self-designed house, Bean was already onto planning countertops with Peruvian black granite when Bao Bean asked him where the stove was going. Unconcerned, her husband declared, “Stoves are ugly.” There was much more to this interview than could be fitted into an article, and much more to say than could be fitted into the interview before Bao Bean had to go teach aerobics. I encourage you to read The Chopsticks-Fork Principle and to visit cathybaobean.com to find out more, including what happened with the stove.

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Pixar has been an important companion throughout my life. I laughed, I cried, and I grew with each and every Pixar character. (Eric)

Books have always helped my imagination and curiosity grow. (Karen)

What anchors me is the warmth and comfort of vanilla caramel tea and all the sweet memories it evokes. (Dianna)

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What grounds me is the warm and fuzzy feeling you get loving and being loved by family and friends. (Lily)

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My hands let me write and play the piano with imagination. Hands also symbolize meeting and helping others. (Kathy)

Even in chaos and suffering, there can be balance and peace. (Calvin)

The box from Little Prince. I got one, too, so I can have whatever I want. (Kayla)

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Getting to Know ISAtv’s Dan Matthews Eric Lee

Dan Matthews (DANakaDAN) is a member of ISAtv, a YouTube Channel and media network founded by Wong Fu Productions and Far East Movement. Just this past summer, Matthews released a documentary about his journey to South Korea to meet his biological parents and an unbeknownst twin brother. In addition, he released an album “Stuntman” that accompanied this documentary. Below, Matthews discusses his adoption journey, Asian identity, Asian media and working hard to achieve greatness. First off, what is your role at ISAtv? I’m the director of productions and development. It’s been a real amazing experience - I’ve basically been in charge of developing new series and content and seeing them through to execution. I also manage the day to day operations of the channel and oversee our dedicated team. You have had a lot of success with your film and singing career. What advice do you have for young people to get started on big projects? My only advice is to keep on keeping on. You’ll hit a lot of road blocks and encounter day after bad day. Even this week I had three big failures that made me question a lot about what I was doing. But the most important thing I remembered was to keep on moving. You’ll get past it and you’re probably in a better mindstate because of it. When you were young, did you know you were going to be a filmmaker and singer? How did your parents react when they learned you wanted to base your career in the arts? Absolutely not. And it’s crazy to think that I’m able to do something creative as a career. It’s really unbelievable. I feel so lucky. But life is strange like that. Parents have always been supportive. Sometimes, Asian individuals don’t feel like they necessarily fit in American culture. Were you stigmatized during your childhood because you were Asian? I was more stigmatized by trying to fit in with the Asians. As an adoptee, I tried my hardest to really fit in with the other Asian kids. I felt more American then Asian. So it was a strange counter narrative to what was usually felt by my Asian friends. That being said once I got older and encountered more racism - then I was stuck in between two worlds trying to fit in.

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YouTube has seen a rapid growth of Asian Youtubers since 2007 such as NigaHiga, Wong Fu Productions and Michelle Phan. On the flip side, Asians still are under represented in Hollywood and mainstream television. Do you think there will be more Asians on mainstream television in the future? Yup. It’s happening. The documentary you produced was touching and intimate. Did you know you were going to write a documentary the instant you found out who your family was? We had plans to do the documentary once I got word that they had found my family. Then we found out about ALL that amazing news (I had a twin..family was still together). It’s the story of my lifetime. We had to film it. I’m so thankful to have those moments on film. How has your adoption influenced your connection to the Asian community? It’s made me try harder. I really want to fit in with this community. We matter as Asian Americans. It made me strive harder because I felt different. I wanted to fit in. So with friction comes fire. And lastly… What is your favorite type of bubble tea? Really love thai iced tea.

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Speak Up / Yuanyuan Fu / acrylic paint, pen & ink 51

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On Being More Independent Brooke Kuei

Last night, the storm outside was so violent that each time the thunder hit, your entire room trembled in response. You are not afraid of thunderstorms — you never were — but as you lay there in bed wearing nothing but your underwear and an old t-shirt, wrapped in the thin cocoon of your bed covers, you suddenly felt the intense need to be held, to be taken care of, to be loved. This need made you feel vulnerable, and this vulnerability disappointed you. You admit to yourself that it is entirely acceptable to enjoy the company of others and that happiness shared is superior to individual happiness, but you begin to wonder if maybe you are too dependent on other beings, or crave more approval than is healthy, or are developing a phobia of being alone. You try desperately to understand why you are incapable of believing in yourself, respecting yourself, and why it is so important to you to impress other people and why their compliments give you more than just a thrill — they sustain you. You remember the time you mistook one four-lettered word for another — how you heard I need you come out of a boy’s mouth and how you thought he meant I love you. You think about how you plan your day around everyone else’s and how you will not find fault in anyone who does not find fault in you. “No,” is the most unused word in your vocabulary, you realize. But is one syllable really that difficult to pronounce? You vow to grow into yourself, to become the independent person that is inside you. You refuse to rely on validation from others and assure yourself that you have no reason to be insecure. You look at yourself in the mirror — you look into your eyes, ignoring the birthmark on your right cheek. You might even concede that without it, you wouldn’t be you. You trust in yourself, you trust in yourself completely, from what is skin-deep to what is being protected by your skull to the heart that keeps you alive. You can’t wait for the next time there is a thunderstorm. You can’t wait to run outside and let the rain wash your doubts into the sewers, to talk back to the thunder, and to let the lightening be your spotlight.

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Forest at Night / Yuanyuan Fu / acrylic paint 53

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She Breathes in the World Karen Nguyen

Golden leaves flutter from trees in the afternoon sunlight, as Helen Wang takes me on a walk down her favorite path. We walk briskly along the sidewalk and even when she’s pregnant, due in January, she isn’t stopping anytime soon. As the Morewood E-Tower Housefellow, Helen tells me that health and wellness is simply a huge part of her life. It makes sense that she would talk to me while getting her daily dose of fresh air in too. “I find that getting exercise in your routine is so important, especially for students,” she tells me. Even though her daily schedule is packed, she still finds time to get some form of exercise in her day whether through walking, jogging or yoga, which is her greatest passion. Despite her busy schedule, Helen never hesitates to spend time with her E-Tower residents, from talking over tea in her office to teaching yoga classes every Wednesday night. “CMU students are so passionate and rigorous,” she says with a smile. For her, that’s what makes CMU so incredibly unique. Helen graduated from CMU in 1999 with a degree in English. She then headed off to a Ph.D program in Asian-American Studies at the College of William and Mary. However, her path took an unexpected turn when she decided that she wasn’t entirely satisfied with what she was doing at that point. “I was an Asian American Studies student, but I realized that it wasn’t for me. I was in this angsty stage where I was just tired of constantly reading about my subjectivity as an Asian-American. Yoga became a good outlet for me.”

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We turn down another street as she tells me how after taking a few yoga classes, she was hooked. She found a sense of peace in it. So, Helen then bravely left the PhD program and ventured off to New York City in order to study more about her newly found passion. However, for Helen, yoga is more than just a good form of exercise. She explains to me, “Yoga is often appropriated by the West. And for me, I just wanted to explore the more spiritual part of yoga because it comes from a sacred place.” Wanting to share this passion with others, she tells me excitedly about the different types of yoga she enjoys. However, her favorite she tells me is Vinyasa Yoga, which is a more fast-based, fluid type of yoga. “It’s a fun, great workout,” she explains. We hit Walnut Street now and as we head down the street, we spot a few dog walkers with their tiny terriers strolling by. Helen smiles at the dogs and tells me how she has her own bulldog to keep her hands full. “If you ever see a bulldog with a pink collar walking around, that’s Millie,” she says with a light chuckle. We move forward, while she points out a few tea shops and cafes, and notes the beautiful architecture of a few residential homes we pass by. That’s just Helen. So attuned to the people and the world around her. So open and free and full of life. “I’m so lucky to have the job I have and to be doing everything I do now.” She smiles wide. “I can’t believe it’s a job sometimes.” And when I ask her why, with a glint in her eye, Helen simply replies, “It’s all in the connections.”

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Wither / Yuanyuan Fu / pen & ink, watercolor, pastel

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The Best Way to Die Brooke Kuei

December is a cold month, an old month. It is tired and weary and its bare branches wave goodbye as they suffocate under the beautiful, white snow that gleams with hope, that promises a beginning after the end. But it is still an end. Everyone always writes about falling in love, but nobody ever writes about falling out of love. I have never fallen out of love before. I have had it taken away, suddenly, had my entire heart wrenched out of my chest and immediately replaced with a stone which hurts when it beats and pumps cold blood. I have had love taken away, but it was a gunshot straight down my throat – quick and easy – a painless death, they call it. I have never fallen out of love before, but I imagine it would be more like drowning. I saw a couple at the Greyhound station today. Being my usual nosy self, I watched them out of the corner of my eye, fabricating stories, composing tales of tragic romance. They were in their fifties, I think, probably been married for twenty years or so, sitting at a table in front of the sad little concession stand that sold pretzels and hot dogs and soda that slowly rots your teeth. Their shoulders were touching, their thighs side by side, their chairs an inch apart, and he was singing. His skin was dark, his face worn and slightly obscured by graying facial hair, and he was wearing frameless glasses, an old baseball cap, sweatpants, and a windbreaker. A pretty average guy, at first glance, but by god, his voice caught my attention even from several tables away. I listened secretly, peeked over occasionally, smiled to myself as I saw him play his imaginary piano and lean into his wife, serenading her. But then I saw her eyes. There was not even the hint of a sparkle, the tiniest glimmer of love! This man, whose voice I imagine won her over many years ago, was giving her a romantic private concert, every girl’s not-so-secret dream, and yet this woman was completely indifferent. She just sat there, in her own damn world, propping up a bored face with her fist, as his voice echoed in the space around her. Is that love? I wondered to myself. Is that what love looks like in the month of December? I have always had an irrational fear of water. I am the lame person at the beach who won’t go more than ten feet into the ocean because I think it will betray me when I start to enjoy myself, flip me on my back and fill my lungs with cold, salty terror. I don’t want to drown. I never want to drown.

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writing & art contest 2015 Writing Contest Winner: Harry Hong Art Contest Winner: Tiffany Jiang

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Faรงades and manipulation. Serendipity and blessings in disguise. A diamond hiding in coal, a psychotic mind masked by a charming smile. Even the most mundane conversation may hold a deeper meaning. Things are not always as they seem. The truth is often shrouded by carefully crafted lies or intricacies that have yet to become clear. Reality is so often obscured, by people or by nature. Submit a piece (writing or art) about a disguise, mask, or symbol.

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Across the Fish Market: Smoke, Rain, Light Harry Hong

In this dampest of nights in front of the Noryangjin fish market, the streetlamp gilds the thick

strands of rain that weave the night sky.

In the cafe across the street, they had been sitting by the window on the third floor.

She had on a loose white t shirt that almost masked the glamour of the untidy but perky dyed-

brunette bangs that bounced crisply above her shoulders and of her round, foreign looking eyes with deep, sweet browns which shined despite the exhaustion that fogged them. The grace of her sweeping hand movements and her effortless smile evidenced the acting lessons she had been taking until a few months ago.

He sat across from her, skin considerably darker and coarser than hers behind his sharp horn

rimmed glasses, bronzed by the European sun during a backpacking trip in Spain and France from which he had returned the past Sunday. Despite his recent arrival, he was clean shaven and had on a crisp shirt rolled up to his bony elbows. Beside his chair on the windowsill he laid a battered volume of Proust sliced halfway by a bookmark, which he brought for the subway ride to and from this meeting.

A group of college boys a few tables away lingered their glances at this pair, possibly wondering

how these two individuals came to be together. A fleeting hint came when he lighted her cigarette with innocent but adept skill and sucked his own not with his index and middle fingers, but with the cigarette between the index and his thumb, in the style of a garish schoolboy. The whole thing took less than two seconds, but their movements were synchronized as if automata following grooves borne by years of time. The impression, however, almost entirely subsided when he leaned forward with his hands neatly set on the table and his legs politely positioned with an automatically calculated fist’s length between the two knees.

He was smoking more than usual – he only smoked with her now –, but as always drunk on the

melancholic beauty of the fumes than the tobacco itself. She pulled her drags with contrasting economic indulgence.

‘I think he’s going to ask me to marry him,’ she said.

His sad eyes offset the smile he returned to her.

‘When?’ he asked, after a band of ash had formed on the tip of his cigarette.

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‘Probably before he has to go to the military in a few months.’

‘And you’re going to say yes?’

‘Of course not! … At least I don’t think so…’

‘But you’re not sure?’ he asked earnestly.

The taut, pristine white paper melted to a golden black as an orange glow slowly made its way to

her lips.

‘You know I always wanted a family,’ she said.

‘What about your acting?’ he asked delicately while trying to suppress his anger at her father. It

was unacceptable that the man still had so much say in her life. He lost that right when he–

‘I don’t know. Being on stage really makes me happy. But is that even reasonable to want?’

He silently tapped his cigarette on the black ceramic ashtray.

‘I’ve been thinking, maybe I should start studying for nursing school,’ she said.

‘Oh?’

‘I would have to study for a whole new test, but if I do this I feel like I would be better equipped

to care for my children.’

‘What happened? Did he say something to you?’ he clenched.

‘No, he didn’t say anything. This is my idea. But I think he is supportive of it.’

She ripped out a sheet from a notebook labeled Mathematics I and started drawing a circle in the

middle.

‘That’s me,’ she said, writing that in the circle.

Then she began to lay herself bare on the paper, branching out two ovals left and right named

‘acting’ and ‘family’ and writing down the specifics that intertwined these two aspirations.

Among them money, education, independence, love.

After explaining each detail, she shyly looked up, waiting for his reaction.

He studied her map. He stared at that overgrown nuisance ‘family’ that had so infatuated her and

occupied for itself such a big space inside her.

As if to block an exasperated remark about what he considered her fantasies, he filled his mouth

with billows of tobacco.

When he looked at her, she added, ‘I’m not going to give up acting. I’m going to give my best shot

at it, but I need something to fall back on.’

‘Won’t you have a harder time concentrating?’

‘Well that’s a cost I have to pay, isn’t it?’

He had never been sexually attracted to her. He didn’t want to deal with the drama, the relegation

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to fickle acquaintances – the endless string of men who exploded in her heart only to blow away in the winds while he watched at the side, uninterestedly waiting for the smoke to clear, which always did. But seeing her like this he was so filled with a desire to make her happy, to see that delicate flower fully bloom as if it were an affirmation of the value of his own life, of which so much was spent with her; deluding each other over drink and smoke and laughter that things were all right, that her success would give his existence some meaning that even his own would not grant him.

If no one was fit for the task, perhaps he would have to take on the role of her man.

He wanted to love her. He could love her. He did love her. He noticed this without surprise.

He drew inkless lines and swirls on her paper with a pen with its tip unclicked, wandering for a way to

begin.

‘It seems like…’

‘Well...I don’t know how to say it but…’

‘Well what? Just say everything that comes to mind,’ she weakly smiled.

‘It just seems like... well look here, you want to go to nursing school to better care for your

children….’ he started. ‘If you had to choose, would it be acting or your family?’

‘Family,’ she almost cringed at that word.

‘But that is only if you had to choose, if both were even somewhat feasible you would go after both.’

‘Yes!’

‘I mean...it just seems like to me that...a good husband, one who does medicine or whatever, will solve

a lot of your problems.’

She sighed.

‘I told you I want a happy family. I want to marry for love.’

‘What, you aren’t going to worry about the other factors?’

‘But what will all that matter without love!’

She lit another cigarette. The elusive white rose that grew out of it warded off the moist scent of

mackerel out the window into the dark. The golden streaks of rain by the lamp post caressed the frail, lonely souls.

‘How likely do you think it is that I will find someone who has all those fancy qualifications who will

love me no matter what? I didn’t go out with all those men and not learn anything: with most men it’s just a moment’s flare. I know how to weed out the cheaters. In all my eighteen years of existence I have only met one person who I felt could really love somebody year after year.’

He waited, wondering if she would elaborate on this person that had affirmed such a faith in love

within her.

She simply reiterated that statement.

‘Eighteen years and one person! How likely do you think it is that I can find somebody like that in the

next few years who will be not only successful, but also love me back and be willing to stay with me forever?’

‘Because you were equally likely to meet the love of your life when you were two as you are now?’ he

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sneered.

She glared at him.

‘Your math skills amaze me,’ he simply added, not pressing further.

Hunching over the ashtray to deposit a little pearl of spit, he said,

‘Well, I think it’s just that you haven’t been in the best circles to look for a mate, you know. I don’t

think the demographic that spends all night getting drunk, doing drugs, and settling for menial jobs is characterized by faithfulness and caring as others, say, a college class?’

She gave him an exasperated answer but aside from the dismissive attitude he couldn’t follow it

nor see how it refuted his argument.

‘And even if everything was right, are they just supposed to fall in love with me because they are

perfect for me?’she demanded, staring.

He could find no way to answer her.

‘And who is to say all the conditions will be in our favor to have a relationship and fall in love, let

alone get married?’ She was in many ways the more practical of the two.

‘I really need this,’ she continued, pointing at that oval again, ‘I know you might not think it is

important, but I really want my children to have what I didn’t.’

He cursed her father again. He longed badly for a way to avenge her.

‘And this is why love is so, so, important,’ she addressed her companion.

‘Which is also why it is important I have something to fall back on if I get thrown out by my

husband like my mother was,’ she pointed below the oval at a scribbled word that read ‘nursing’.

He smiled at her as they basked in the warm promise that faded from those black ballpoint

markings.

‘I am so glad you have a plan,’ he said.

She beamed.

‘So when are you leaving the country?’ she asked.

‘The thirteenth next month,’ he replied, apologetically and glumly.

‘Have you thought about what you’re going to do?’ she slowly continued, staring into his coffee

with those brown eyes.

‘Because I’ve been thinking hard about this and I don’t think you would come back to Korea after

going through all that hard work to go to medical school.’

‘It’s not entirely like that,’ he protested.

‘I’ve thought a lot about where I belong during my trip,’ he said.

‘And I felt being Korean was such a big part of me that I might even serve in the military to keep

my citizenship and stay here,’ he added eagerly.

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She shook her head, grin in her eyes.

‘No, don’t do that,’ she said softly.

For a while, they sat there without a word. The embers almost scorched her fingers before she

snuffed it out. The stub released a thicker smoke.

He lit a new cigarette in her mouth and took another for himself.

Little ghostly trails led upwards from each of their left hands. Tiny clouds drifted from their open

lips to the top of the table, creating a miniature fog between them while the blanket of smoke closest to the window slowly began to leak out.

‘Is this about him?’ She suddenly asked. He, the boyfriend, was a thirty year old who sold fried

skewers in the jewelry district.

After some hesitation he said yes.

‘I’m not marrying him, don’t worry!’

She said this so apathetically without a tremor in her voice that he felt reassured. He had met the

boyfriend and found him to be a genuine, earnest person, so he didn’t know why her dismissal pleased him. But to be fair, though, he had shown to him early signs of a short temper.

The moon began catching up to the glow of the rainy lamp post. They were now alone on this floor.

Only a single cigarette remained in the carton. She lit it, took a puff, and handed it to him, lipstick-stained.

The two went on.

‘I really need your criticism,’ she said. ‘Keep trying to poke holes in this. You’ll only make it

stronger.’

He took a long pause.

He crinkled the flesh between his eyebrows in an attempt to draw thoughts from any overlooked

corners of his mind. After the ridges of his wrinkles reached their highest peaks, they then quickly eased.

‘I think the important thing is to work hard on both of those goals and to take care not to lose both

by not concentrating on either,’ he said.

She took a moment, and grinned.

‘You don’t know how happy I am these days! It feels so good to be working towards my goals. Really,

what else would get me to keep my nose in a book for twelve hours – no, it’s eight to ten, the private classes! – fourteen hours; come on, you know that I would never have done that a few years ago.’

His face glowed with a smile greater than any other that night.

‘I really want you to be happy,’ he said.

They put out their last cigarette. The last sliver of the ephemeral smoke had receded from the room.

The two sat in their seats, staring at each other laughing and smiling.

The two left the building to the station. She gave him her umbrella to hold and clung her hand to

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his right shoulder.

‘Hey, are you getting some rain on your side?’ he asked with a nudge, concernedly, without

significance. His left pant leg got freckled with dark spots.

Without a word she tilted the shaft back to his side.

At the station he asked, again in the unaffected, congenial tone, ‘Well, will we be meeting again

before I leave?’

She answered, with the same voice if maybe more delicate, ‘We won’t be seeing each other until

next summer, so yeah’.

What about the winter, he grinned, and she laughed as his card was rejected by the scanner. They

heard the train arrive and leave while he was at the machine to recharge his traffic card.

The two walked away to opposite platforms, knowing that they did not have to bother looking

back.

The rain is at its last death throes. As this last train pulls in, chasing away the dark with its fierce

headlights, the sun will soon follow in its path. The marketplace will once again be abuzz with the bustling of merchants and the raw marine scent of the fish. The rain will be only a memory, unknown to the dumb eyes of the cod that will now scatter the moistened concrete floor.

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Selected artwork by Tiffany Jiang

This series of images are systematically the same but differ in way that gives it meaning. I wanted to focus on breaking stereotypes relating to Asian people. People symbolize Asian eyes as "squinty, small, almond shaped," etc. I photographed many of my classmates' eyes, compiling them into a grid, going from “smallest” to “largest.” It's interesting to see how each person's eye differs. Some people have monolids while others don't. Some people wear heavy amounts of make up to give off an illusion of larger eyes. (I'm guilty of that.) 66

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These next two images deal with putting an interesting twist on traditional black and white nude photography. It disguises the body, masking the underlying form and obscuring reality for the viewer.

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These portraits focus on the topic of phobias, something I’ve always been fascinated about. The point of the series is to communicate that looks can be deceiving. If it weren’t for the images, you would never know that that certain person possessed such a phobia. For example, I learned that my friend has a phobia of stickers, something I never would have guessed after all my years of knowing her. I’ve unmasked their personal phobias in the process of completing this photo project.

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Mad for Chick’n Bubbly Grace Wong

For the Korean-fried chicken connoisseurs, Chick’n Bubbly is no Bonchon, but it’s

pretty darn close. For less than $15, you can get some pretty nice, crispy chicken wings and/or drumstricks, one of 20+ choices of bubble tea, and a complimentary side of pickled radish.

The Chick’n menu has three simple steps – pick your size: snack, small, medium or large,

pick your combo: wings, drumsticks, or both, and pick your sauce: sweet and spicy sauce or soy garlic sauce. Feelin’ thirsty? Well look no further. The brainchild of Chick’n Bubbly has combined two Asian food-favorites so that you can enjoy the best of both worlds – Korean Fried Chicken and Bubble Tea!

Taste-wise, the chicken is absolutely on point. Just like how the big Korean chains do it,

Chick’n Bubbly’s version is chock full of crispy goodness. When eaten hot off the box, the skin is perfectly crisp and full of flavor. The inside is nice and tender, a perfection combination with the well-flavored exterior.

Price-wise, Chick’n Bubbly isn’t the cheapest meal on the block, but if you’re willing

to splurge a little more than usual for a delicious food experience, it’s a solid choice. For as little as $5.99, you can get a snack’s worth of fried chicken – 5 wings, 3 drumsticks, or 4 wings and 1 drumstick. Prices go up from there, to $28.99 for a large - 30 wings, 15 drumsticks, or 15 wings and 8 drumsticks. Plus, if you get on their good side, they usually add an extra wing or two to your order.

While the cost of the bubble tea is pretty standard for Pittsburgh pricing, the quality of

the tea is great, if not one of the best for what you can get in Pittsburgh. My favorites are the black milk tea and honey green tea – personally recommended by the Chick’n workers! Plus, if you’d like to be a little more adventurous, you can even replace traditional tapioca bubbles with jelly or even popping boba (4 flavors each)!

Another nifty little addition that Chick’n Bubbly provides is these smart plastic finger

caps from Korea. Basically, you put the caps on your thumb, index, and middle fingers, and voila! An easy way to enjoy your meal without making too much of a mess. These only come in one size, however, so if you have small hands like me, they may take some getting used to. The only downside? Most of the time, they’re low on drumsticks, so unless you order a snack size, chances are you won’t get the correct ratio of wings to drumsticks. As long as you’re not partial to them, however, it’s not much of a problem.

Grace’s Rating:

tapiocas

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Alexander Wang: Breaking Fashion Barriers Grace Wong It would be an understatement to say that Alexander

about egos, and it’s not about yelling at people. It’s a

Wang is sweeping the nation’s fashion industry. In less than

family owned business and it’s an environment where we

a decade, the 30-year old fashion prodigy has achieved

are connected and it’s not so much about what you do

more than what many designers dream of accomplishing

but enjoying it,” he explains.

over the course of a lifetime. Top American fashion

In part, Wang’s rare humbleness in the competitive

designer, Creative Director of Balenciaga, winner of five

fashion-industry stems from his Asian-American

awards from the CFDA (Council of Fashion Designers

cultural upbringing. Born in San Francisco to Taiwanese

of American), Vogue, Swarovski, and GQ, and just

immigrant parents, Wang learned to find success

recently, exclusive designer for the Alexander Wang x

through hard work and perseverance. Like how his

H&M Fall/Winter 2014 Collection, Alexander Wang is

parents went from struggling dishwashers to successful

a creative force to be reckoned with.

plastic manufacturing business owners, Alexander Wang

Born and raised in San Francisco, Wang grew with

also meticulously took baby steps before eventually

great ambitions. While other kids spent their summers

finding fame. He drew, sewed, and styled at every chance

relaxing, Wang was working and quickly building up his

he could from the age of two.

design career. In middle school, he took summer fashion

At the same time, Wang’s family defies the many

courses at Central Saint Martins School in London. At

stereotypes that pervade most Asian families. He notes,

the mere age of 15, Wang had already completed his first

“I’ve always had a very supportive family. There are all

set of designs at his brother’s wedding in 1999.

these sorts of stereotypes that certain backgrounds—

Wang went on to develop his fashion skills at Parsons.

Asian families—want to direct you into certain [careers]

At the same time, he was interning for top fashion

but my family has always been, ‘This is where your talent

editorial and design companies like Teen Vogue, Derek

is, let’s go for it.’ And with that I’ve been very lucky.”

Lam and Marc Jacobs. After only two years at Parsons

Currently, Alexander Wang continues to design for

but with ample work experience, he felt confident

both his own label and for Balenciaga. While he has

enough to drop out of school and jumpstart his fashion

not yet reached a huge international presence, it is clear

label. Luckily, his intuition proved right and his debut

that for Wang, this is only the beginning of his fashion

Fall/Winter 2007 Collection was a huge success.

career. With the collection already selling to 700 doors

After successfully expanding his fashion label for the

worldwide and 16 stores in 7 countries, Alexander Wang

first few years, Wang got his next big break in November,

has high ambitions. In many ways, Wang is continually

2012, when he assumed the role of Creative Director at

raising the standards. As arguably on of the youngest, yet

Balenciaga, an internationally acclaimed fashion house.

most successful designers, as one of the few successful

And yet even after becoming one of the nation’s top

Asian-American designers in the fashion industry, and as

fashion designers, Alexander Wang continues to stay

one who remains humble and modest, Alexander Wang

humble about his accomplishments. “In our company

is a rare sight in the fashion industry.

and our environment, it’s very non-political. It’s not

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The Child Killer Dianna Li

Cast of Characters Oliver Lethe: A man in his early 20s. Has a mental condition, the nature of which forces him to remain in the constant care of his mother. Seth Nixon: A man in his mid 20s; Oliver’s childhood friend. Bess Lethe: A woman in her mid 50s; Oliver’s mother. Selma Bridget:A woman in her 40s; the mailwoman. James Nixon: A man in his late 50s; Seth’s father. Scene 1 setting : We are in the Lethe kitchen. It’s a charming little room, with the classic red and white checkerboard tile floor. A small circular table sits in the middle of the room, adorned with a blue plaid tablecloth. A slim glass vase is the table’s only resident, filled with white lilies, freshly picked by BESS. The aroma of rising bread fills the kitchen. at rise : Bess Lethe watches her loaf carefully while Seth Nixon sits at the table, looking slightly downcast. Oliver Lethe walks in, wiping his face with the shirt he wore the day before. He looks at the calendar on the wall, red X’s crossing off the days past. Bess (looking up from the oven) Oliver, dear, look who’s here! (Oliver looks confused for a moment.)

It’s Seth! He came all the way down from that fancy doctor school to see you! Oliver (no look of recognition dawning on his face) Ah yes, Seth. Of course. How are you? Seth Not too great, pal. Rachel dumped me and I didn’t make the cut for that advanced surgeon class. (He chuckles weakly at his own pun.)

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Oliver Rachel… your girlfriend? Seth (unphased) Yeah. Oliver I’m sorry to hear that. (They sit awkwardly for a minute. The doorbell breaks the awkward silence.) Bess That must be Selma! (Bess opens the door for a middle-aged woman wearing a mail carrier’s uniform and holding a large bag stuffed with envelopes. Oliver! Come over here, there’s something for you! And Selma, why, you look positively radiant! Selma (smiling) Jerry and I are having a child! (The two ladies gush over Bess’ good fortune.) Oliver (arriving at the door and nodding in greeting) Congratulations on the baby, miss. (He returns to the kitchen and sits back down.) Seth What’ve you got there? Oliver Just some advertisement saying that if I don’t take advantage of an offer, it’s going to expire. Seth (smiling knowingly) Something you signed up for? Oliver Not that I know of. Seth So what was all that commotion out there? Oliver The mailwoman’s pregnant. Seth Ah.

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Oliver Mustn’t it be wonderful? A life so completely new, to be filled with love and amazing experiences. (Bess returns from the door and takes the loaf out of the oven. She rummages for a knife to slice the bread.) Seth Life isn’t all wonderful. It’s full of choices and you’ve got to make all the right ones. Sometimes I think I’ve taken all the wrong paths and wish I could start over. Become a child again. Have all that ahead of me. Bess (giving Seth a stern look) Seth… Oliver You’d throw a life away? All your memories, all your relationships, everything? Seth Some memories aren’t worth keeping. (almost enviously) I wouldn’t mind just falling asleep and having some of my memories erased before I wake. Bess (whipping her head around and bursting out angrily) Seth! Seth (glancing at the knife in BESS’ hand with wariness) I’d better go. Oliver (confusedly) Oh… all right. Good luck with your… situation. (Seth gets up to leave. Bess puts the knife down and gives Oliver a tight smile as they hear the door swing shut.) (BLACKOUT) (END OF SCENE)

Scene 2 setting : We are in the Lethe kitchen again. A few days have passed since Seth’s unceremonious expulsion from the Lethe household. This time the glass vase is filled with yellow chrysanthemums. The aroma of fresh cherry pie wafts through the house. at rise : As she waits for her pie to cool, Bess fiddles with the ruffled edge of her apron, embroidered with her name. Seth glances warily at Bess every so often, who watches him like a hawk. Seth has been tapping his fingers on the table for some time when Oliver finally walks into the kitchen, wearing again, the shirt he wore the day before. He glances at the calendar and then sits down. Bess

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Oliver, honey, Seth came to see you ag— (Her cheeks flush a ruddy red as she breaks mid-sentence.) Seth came to see you again. Oliver (smiling politely) Hello. How are you? Seth (dejectedly) Even worse, buddy. I found out that the reason Rachel dumped me was that she was sleeping with Bradley Engels. I made such a scene at work when I found out that they fired me. Bess Bradley? Your best friend, Bradley? (She starts cutting the pie.) Seth Yes ma’am. Bess (with surprise) Oh! But when you brought him down to visit us he seemed like such a nice young— (Bess stops abruptly, looking horrified. The sudden shock causes the knife to slip from her hand. Blood-red cherries spill from the golden piecrust as the knife clatters to the floor. Bess rushes out of the kitchen.) Oliver (bewildered) What was that all about? And when did this Bradley come to visit? Seth (shrugging, the corner of his mouth twitching) Maybe she suddenly remembered something she forgot. (He plucks one of the chrysanthemums from the vase.) Yellow chrysanthemums… So much like the sunshine. It doesn’t seem right that they so often decorate cemeteries. Oliver (also shrugging) Can’t say I love them. But I guess it does lighten up a dark place. Seth (sardonically) Yeah, if I killed myself, I’d have yellow flowers to look forward to. Oliver (eyebrows raised) You can’t possibly mean that. Seth

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It’s more than I have to look forward to now. Oliver (slightly unsettled) But you wouldn’t… (Oliverglances at the crimson-stained knife on the floor.) Seth (laughing without humor) Oh no, I couldn’t. Taking the life of anything is way too horrible to even think of… Oliver But you’d be dead. You wouldn’t remember it. Seth I suppose you’re right. But there’s just something about taking my own that… (He shudders.) It chills me. I would never. (He sighs heavily.) My dad told me that taking a life changes you. It weighs on you, and you can never go back. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. (Oliver sits uncomfortably. Seth fiddles with the flower in his hands, a slow smile stretching across his face as if the chrysanthemum has given him hope. Bess walks back into the kitchen, still recovering from her shock. She picks up cloth and absentmindedly starts wiping the countertop. Suddenly, the doorbell rings.) Bess Oliver, could you please get that? I think it’s Selma. Oliver Sure, Bess. (Oliver and Seth get up to walk to the door. Oliver opens it, revealing Selma.) Selma (jovially) Hello, Oliver. Here’s your mail! Oliver Thanks Selma. You seem particularly chipper today. Selma (smiling kindly) I’m with child. Oliver How wonderful. Congratulations! Selma (glowing) Why, thank you, Oliver! Have a good day. (She tips her cap and trots off.)

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Seth Well, I’d better get going too. Thanks for all your help, buddy. Oliver (tilting his head) I haven’t really done much, but sure. Seth (grinning, tucking the yellow chrysanthemum behind his ear) You’ve done more than you’ll ever know. (Oliver, confused, pats SETH awkwardly on the shoulder and closes the door behind him.) (BLACKOUT) (END OF SCENE) Scene 3 setting : Moonlight cuts through fog with no sense of mercy, illuminating a shadowy alley. Silence hangs uncomfortably in the night. at rise : A man stands in the alley. He pockets something he has just been given and waits, nervously. His feet shuffle back and forth, and the knife in his hand dangles, like a quavering pendulum that has stopped in time. He is suddenly jumped by a shadow from behind. Letting out a strangled yell, he wields his only weapon. As the shadow crumples to the ground, a low moan mingles with a sigh of relief in the still night air. (BLACKOUT) (END OF SCENE) Scene 4 setting : We are in a church. Colored sunlight filters in through stained glass windows. At the front of the room, there is a coffin. Seth rests in it, his face finally peaceful. at rise : Oliver sits with Bess at the very back of the room. James Nixon, fully clad in military dress, stands at the pulpit. Although the eulogy has not yet ended, various occupants of the pews turn their heads to leer at Oliver; Some with venomous anger, some with curiosity, some with fear. James And so, although my son’s last days were riddled with grief and pain, we shall remember him as he truly was, full of life and wonder. (Murmurs of agreement ensue. Shuffling and muffled chatter sounds among the pews as everyone rises and begins to move around. People are still shooting looks at Oliver.) Oliver (to Bess) Why do people keep looking at me? Bess Don’t worry, Oliver, Seth loved you. You have as much of a right to be here as anyone. (She sniffles.) You don’t have a kerchief, do you? Oliver (Rummaging in his pockets, he pulls out a crushed yellow chrysanthemum. He furrows his brow.)

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Sorry, Bess. (Oliver meanders off to the front of the room. By this time, everyone has drifted away, and he is alone with Seth. Oliver wrinkles his nose, confused by, among the fragrant floral arrangements, the whiff of cherries he catches from Sethâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s coffin.) Oliver (to Seth, looking blank) I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know you, but they say you loved me. I hope I made you happy somehow. (He tucks the yellow chrysanthemum among the fresh white carnations. Its crushed yet vibrant petals compliment the pure white nicely.) (BLACKOUT) (END)

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Breaking Down / Roslyn Lee / pencil

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when physics failed me Brooke Kuei

The professor is talking about forces on the chalkboard, but I am tired of hearing the same things, deriving the same formulas, over and over again. Inertia is the tendency for an object to keep moving at the same velocity unless acted upon by an outside force, he reminds us. I want to ask him what makes a person stay sad, and what outside force can stop the sadness, but I don’t raise my hand. If you choose a specific centripetal acceleration, you can essentially simulate gravity, he goes on enthusiastically. I want to ask him what kind of acceleration can make a depressed person feel weightless, but I don’t raise my hand. I get angrier and angrier the more I learn, and the more I learn the less I care, and the less I care the more I hate the people who do. The equations in my notes are insufferably smug. “We can’t explain the world to you,” they seem to be saying. But why not, you arrogant assholes? Why not? I used to wonder what matter is made of, but now I just wonder what’s the matter with me.

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Unstable Minds / Yuanyuan Fu / marker, pen & ink, watercolor, acrylic paint

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What is your favorite Asian restaurant in Pittsburgh? Maggie Yu

Ally Sorge (Information Systems ’17): “I like Lulu’s Noodles because they have my favorite flavor of bubble tea, coconut.” Tiffany Phan (Biology and Psychology ’17): “How Lee because it’s a place that serves food that is closest to authentic sichuan cuisine so it’s nice to eat something that reminds me of food that I eat in New York. The portions are also really big so you get your money’s worth.” Anna Tan (Computer Science ’17): “Sichuan Gourmet because their Chinese menu is actually authentic Chinese food.” Cathy Song (Electrical and Computer Engineering ’16): “Everyday noodles because it has good soup dumplings.” Victor Song (Communication Design ’15): “Spice Island. Spice Island has the best textured food.” Chris Barker (Electrical and Computer Engineering ’16): “Silk Elephant because they have nice artwork and good Panang Curry.” Brad Chin (Information Systems ’17): “I love OE because it’s super nearby campus, has very reasonable prices, and super quick services. I love the employees and the food isn’t too bad. Also the portions are huge so it feeds me more than one meal.”

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Robert Chen

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bios Lana Li '16 is an eight-letter word. David Wu '15 and the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love. Lily Zhang '15 is a Disney princess. Solomon Ng '16 hasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t slept yet. Christine Yang '16 wants to go stargazing on the Atacama Desert, Chile. Peter Weon '17 never had a phone until college. Robert Chen '16 is ad man. Kathy Huang '17 sleeps less than her computer does, and is neither proud nor ashamed of it. Karen Nguyen '17 swallowed a falling star. Maggie Yu '17 nom nom. Calvin Chan '15 once [redacted] a giant [redacted] to [redacted] using only a green [redacted]. Dianna Li '17 is using Crest toothpaste to power her own small-scale gravity factory. Kayla Jin '17 will create Pokemons one day.

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Digestion / Grace Wong / book pages, newsprint

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