resisting, recovering, remembering: the zine recap

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20 years in the future when I am unfortunately a fossil and probably also a corporate sell out hi future friend, we said this should be to someone in 15-20 years (which is wild btw, I’ll be like… 40ish and wrinkly), which is the exact age difference of some of the oldest alumni that participated in the lovingly named “big april event” (do you guys already know ab this? is it common knowledge? what do you guys call it?). I’m actually writing this in a relatively covid-induced haze, hopefully covid is gone in two decades or at the very least is no longer a pandemic. but anyway, I’m just going to ramble a bit, so my postcard isn’t going to be as good as the other three’s, but stick with me for a little. reading any old emails or documents from like the 2000s era brought me a weird sense of nostalgia, peering into the lives of people who experienced the same university that I was enduring, being in the same spaces and places, yet living in entirely different contexts. so first, I want to give you a relatively candid look into the state of pan-asian / as/am orgs at duke, and perhaps a little too much ab me while we’re at it. so we got asa (asian students association), aaswg, (asian american studies working group), aaa (asian american alliance), diya (duke’s south asian/american org), asean (duke’s southeast asian org), among a few others that I wouldn’t really consider pan-asian (technically diya and asean aren’t either but they’re also not explicitly cultural orgs like kusa (korean undergrad student association) or jcc (japanese culture club) so you get the vibe). quickest crash course for what demands were relevant are here [tinyurl.com/du-asianstudentdemands], which hopefully you’ve seen. all this info can be found in the aaswg drive somewhere, so let’s move on to the juicy details for the orgs I intimately know about. asa is a mess. unsure if this will be anywhere else and tbh i’m too close to still be writing ab it rn, but tl;dr asa has a few problems. 1) people do not know how to separate (org) work from friendships; 2) people do not know how to do labor, or believe that their existence is enough to make people like them, or don’t know how to ask for help and externalize this pressure as persecution; 3) there are specific people whose jobs are not being done, of which their labor falls onto others and quickly burns these folks out; 4) what have been interpolated as “interpersonal conflicts” masks the very real personal transgressions between certain exec members, many of which can never actually be resolved; 5) people are the most conflict-avoidant people I’ve ever met and flaky as hell. now I’m not going to drop names here, ask me later and I’ll be happy to tell you but the takeaway is that I have no idea what the org will look like next year. for context I’m going to be a senior next school year, in the ~senior advisor~ role that we’re making specifically for me (not to flex). I was treasurer the past two years so I was heavily intertwined with what was happening in the org, which I probably would’ve been anyway but. regardless, my working theory is how covid has stunted the emotional growth of my class and the class below me (‘23 and ‘24), so once those classes end up in leadership, shit will hit the fan. I love the ‘25 class and hope they can really thrive, but if I can leave you with one lesson, it’s that people/relationships/ friendships that you think will last often do not. yes, this is classically applied to like “o-week (orientation week, do you still say that) friend groups,” but I see it less applied to first-year wonder-goggle org friends and org relationships. I personally really enjoyed my first year org friends (many of which are still my closest friends), but also many more of them I no longer talk to and don’t believe I will talk to the rest of my college days. bottom line: people you may like now and really enjoy the presence of: cherish them, but also do not stake your entire four years on them. learn to branch out and be cognizant of who they are outside of the org context: who do they talk to? who do they tolerate? what are their personal politics? how are they treating you, themselves? I hope in 20 years duke’s organizing scene has gained some emotional literacy that is being passed down by elders (upperclassmen lmao), but if history has showed anything it’s that orgs ebb and flow.



now that I think about it, will asa still be there in 20 years? probably, people really love their pan-asian orgs. tbh I really really hope in the future general as/ am politics have progressed (that is, realizing that almost all as/am institutions are just extensions of a settler-colonial state and learning how to move beyond the american dream, for starters). anyway if asa no longer exists, I wouldn’t be mad if it came back, I just hope whoever does has a vision on what they want to the org to be. I’m sure the drive still exists, go look there. anyway, aaswg. tbh I’m not sure aaswg will be there in 20 years. if not I can hope it’s continuing in some form, whether within aads (the asian american diaspora studies program, our asian american studies “department” (it’s not a department)) or a separate org. Since we have the as/am minor as of feb 2022, aaswg will need to do a lot of soul searching, which is a continuation from ~2018 when aads (or as it was, aasp – asian american studies program) was first established of moving towards internal learning and political education spaces, but I personally think aaswg is losing its own vision of what it wants to be. somehow the vibes always seem off now. I was co-director (a largely fake role, but a necessary one) with miriam shams-rainey this year and we really tried to do something “post-covid” but honestly I feel like the org is even more lost and confused then when we were in covid. suddenly, as the upperclassmen who’s supposed to know things, it feels like I have this knowledge and attempting to impart it, but absolutely ass at fostering some semblance of a community. perhaps this will just be a growing thing. tl;dr there were, again, “interpersonal problems” that I will speak vaguely of for now, and I guess for both asa and aaswg what I at first perceived as a safe place, a safe org, suddenly was no longer, and that threw me off. personal reflections on how many of my relationships are staked in orgs, but even outside of that it’s just an absolutely shitty situation you feel? aaa is planned to die next year, talk to someone else (celine wei‘23 or rachel qu‘24). also I must plug shania khoo (‘22)’s thesis, find it if you don’t have it already. anyway, watch the panel, look at the quotes, they have some good stuff. I’m not as eloquent as most of the alumni who spoke, but when I wrote those original questions I really just asked what I wanted the answers to myself. here’s my 6am brainstorming doc [https://docs.google.com/document/d/16zyBIWWwm8P4yKnojmSaffos3l3CSoCXjmeCrwWd tA8/edit?usp=sharing], it’s kind of hidden. these are the kinds of questions we were thinking about in 2022, and the ones that may still not have solid answers in 20 years. well I’ve written more than enough, shania has to typeset this on a nice little postcard for you guys to find now. I really hope you guys are having fun, not in the institution way, but in a community way. communal care is the answer btw, but when the community in question is shaky, where else are you able to turn to? people have said this and will continue to say this, but please take time to rest. capitalism exists all around us and it is often hard to step back, but I promise it will be worth it. oh also, go to therapy (this is a self call out). the original point of this letter was to reflect on christine lee’s quote, but I think my rambling is evidence enough that even when you have people to love, it’s not an easy road that will just *happen*. it is something that you need to intentionally work for, and some times its okay to realize and work out that you cannot grow together, in this moment or in general, and continue to find those you want to grow with. anyway to close, here’s my post-Duke contact info, let me know how things are going. hopefully I’m not a big pharma sellout, and if I am, make fun of me. ask me to tell you a secret that I was thinking ab at 12:13am, and if I don’t remember it probably wasn’t important. davidlee2275@gmail.com (901) 753 9152 facebook lmao: david.a.lee4 instagram lmao: da-lee04 with love and in solidarity: david (dave/davey) lee (he/they)



duke university, except not because I hope it got destroyed in the race revolution

Before I get this started, I want you to watch some VITAL things that were part of my life at this moment in time [for archiving purposes]. VIDEOS YOU NEED TO WATCH BEFORE READING THIS LETTER; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qs3OKyYkmQ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9K-SB22_d2A&t=757s https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfeys7Jfnx8 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvvwcS-0R-g&t=309s https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHSehKtDyoI [even if you have to physically type in each character of the link, DO IT] Okay, so, if you are reading this, that means you are 15-50 years from 2022. Hi! Um, I hope you are liking college [if it’s still there…has the race revolution happened yet?] and are most importantly, happy. If college is still like how I remember it, I am very sorry. For me, college was rough, for many reasons. • no one in my family went to college • I was low-income • I was struggling with my sexuality • I dated this asshole • I was roommates with this other asshole • Computer science was hard • ASA was falling apart [and might still be] • We were in the middle of the covid-19 pandemic, that sucked badussy It was mentally and physically exhausting. And I was one of many, many people who were on the edge of what seemed like the end of the world. And it was difficult to just show up for myself, let alone my friends. I would always hyper-fixate on fixing whatever was the problem, both personal and the problems of my friends. I was also hyper-fixated on intellectualizing the issue and reasoning through it, keeping myself up thinking about what the problem was, how we got there, how it’s connected to other problems, how to prevent it, etc. It was exhausting, and it never really worked at the end of the day. And now, I am started to realize that it’s because I never really *felt what I was going through. I never sat with myself and felt what I was going through. I wouldn’t let myself feel my emotions. I would always thought that by thinking about it, it would be fixed. And I applied this to my friends. I would hyper fixate on what they should do or how they got there, and never really how it felt. But it never did help and some things can’t be fixed or thought out. SO, my advice to you, if you want to listen, is to just show up. Just show up for yourself and for others, and to let yourself be comforted by your own presence and emotions. Don’t focus on trying to fix everything or trying to reason your ways through everything - it has its own limits. Shit’s going to happen everyday, and there is some shit that can’t be stopped but must simply be felt and seen in the bathroom stall at 4am in the morning. To what extent this is good advice, who knows. I am still figuring it out myself. At the end of the day, you need to take care of yourself and those who you love and who love you. Its the only way to survive in a place like life duke, and honestly [again, if its still there] in America. Emily Ngo



AAPI BASE if the ceiling has not caved in from the leaking yet.

Dear friend, I write to you with heart, for this letter is a gentle reminder to give yourself space to feel. Our ancestors and mentors, I believe, live through us, their spirits carefully and purposefully imbued within us. “Keep walking,” they whisper, “Continue onward.” If you have found this letter, it is possible that you have done so because the spirits of those who came before you and me guided you. If you have found this letter, it is because you are in BASE, a space I called my temporary home during college. Although separated physically, I’ve come to realize that we are bound by a thread tying our histories together in unique and often coincidental ways. For me, this thread unraveled itself as I searched—deeply—for answers to what Asian American Studies means. If you are also searching, wondering, and asking, I’m afraid I have no answers. However, I can share with you the feelings I sat with as I searched, wondered, and asked. Confusing. I imagine Asian American Studies to be a space constantly in transition, never idle. With our words, our actions, our spirits, we come to be part of a whole in the making—not yet complete. I suppose this is what Asian American Studies was to me for a long time: the making of something. However, I was confused. The Asian American identity is not a monolithic term, a reductive amalgamation of such a vastly segmented and diverse people(s). Rather, the term is rooted in anti-imperialist, anti-Black, and anti-colonialist sentiments, demanding liberation on all fronts. Still, I was confused. I think it is okay to sit with this confusion. Often, we search for a moment of Eureka when we are confused. I’ve found that to simply sit with your confusion is okay. You don’t always need answers. Discouraging. Student organizing at Duke, especially because it is a predominantly white institution can be daunting, discouraging, and confusing. Along the way, dogs will bark and ghosts will haunt you. Along the way, your spirit will wane, whimper, and want to return, to go back and no longer move forward. When we do return, where do we return to? Listen to those who came before you, take heed of their words, and move forward—even if ever so slightly. To understand where we are today requires that we look back, retrace our steps, and learn of those who came before us. At Duke, the struggle for Asian American Studies spans several decades and generations. Asian/American, Latinx, Black, queer, and non-binary folks stood in solidarity with one another for years, fighting against an institution that sought to silence and shackle them. From their work sprung spaces for students of color. From their work, minors and majors were made available. Uplifting. Now, their memories have been passed down to us and the thread binding us together dares to remind us that the work is not yet over. The road ahead will be tough, so I implore you to drink water by the river where those before us have drank, rest, and hold fast: dream as largely, as boldly, as idealistically. As it was then and it is now, “All of us or none of us.” In community, Thang Lian (he/him)



center for multicultural affairs hopefully it is no longer in the basement of the student center

Hi hello, I wrote 100+ page thesis on how memory has sustained Asian American Studies student organizing work for literally decades and how students at Duke have constantly negotiated how we remember, reiterate, and reconcile activist memory. I have spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking about memory, student organizing history, and the particularities of Duke Asian/American communities. So as I try to write this, I wonder what more I have to say, to share, to impart on my literal last day of work as an undergraduate (last day of finals, April 29, 2022). (lol actually, I’m very wordy and always have something to say) Let me start with some context because nobody else in this group project gave any lmao. This postcard is part of a larger time capsule that we (myself, Thang Lian, David Lee, Emily Ngo) created for Dr. Calvin Cheung-Miaw’s final project for AADS 198: Introduction to Asian American History in Spring 2022. This class was one of the first two courses Dr. Cheung-Miaw taught following the hiring initiative for the AADS program that brought him and Dr. Anna Storti (GSF) to Duke. Lowkey I forgot to write about it in my thesis, but the hire was a huge landmark success in the movement for Asian American Studies at Duke. Invested students (including myself and Dave) were included in the hiring process in Spring 2021; we went to job talks, got to interview and chat with candidates, and gave feedback and priorities to the hiring committee that were taken into serious consideration. These hires were one large crucial step that allowed for the AADS minor to be approved in February 2022. And it was fun! For the first time, I really saw the breadth and depth of Asian American Studies as a living and breathing critical field. And then in April 2022, to mark the 20th anniversary of the Asian American Studies Teach-In in 2002, AASWG (Asian American Studies Working Group) with ASA’s (Asian Students Association) funding brought 17 alumni across twenty graduation years to Duke. 14 of these alum spoke in a set of three panels titled “Resisting, Recovering, Remembering: A Panel on Asian/American Communities and Solidarities at Duke.” They were absolutely brilliant, sharing memories, insights, laughs, and tears about their disparate yet overlapping times at Duke. I wished so deeply that I could take their guidance and understandings and inject them into my brain, making them unforgettable and undeniable. And as a senior, I wished even more that younger students would heed these alum’s advice and not make the same harmful mistakes I did. But, what really stuck with me was when Annie said, “The best way to keep a memory alive is to embody it.” What does it mean to embody a memory, to feel a memory in your bones, to understand a memory in your core? Even if we have this time capsule with these zines and postcards, even if I write a thesis that retraces a 20-year history, even if we are so intentional with our archiving, memory and momentum can’t be passed on until it is embodied by whoever comes after us. And even if you read up all the history and know every point in the timeline and are able to articulate all our past thought processes, there’s so much that cannot be understood until you experience it and make decisions for yourself. What I want to offer, in my last piece of writing for this school, are my final happies and crappies (an AASWG tradition started by Helen Yang that gave space for us to care for one another and build community with each other, even if it was as small as checking in at the beginning of every meeting. A crappy is something bad that happened to you this week and a happy is something good that has happened to you this week).



center for multicultural affairs hopefully it is no longer in the basement of the student center

crappies: admin meetings: that’s it, that’s the punchline. oh but especially meetings when administrators tell you to be careful about how you use the word “demands” because you may hurt admins’ feelings. the COVID-19 pandemic: first, I have had to mourn in so many different ways. beyond that, I had 3.5 “normal” semesters of college before the pandemic began, but more than the loss of experiences what I didn’t expect to hit me so hard was navigating the pandemic as an upperclassman during “unprecedented times” and at a school that desperately wanted to return to “normal.” I was constantly expected to know how to foster community, what things were like before the pandemic (and how to return to that), to hold younger students’ hands as they figured their shit out. But my goodness, I was also trying to figure my own shit out. Mess. being so embedded in Asian/American communities: You name a pan-Asian org that was active when I was at Duke and I was definitely in it askjdlf; I came into Duke so curious and so excited about the potentials of understanding Asian/American as a radical political identity and deeply embedded myself into multiple student orgs. I loved these communities (read below), but they also really took advantage of me and many people I care about. Despite people’s politics being aligned with mine, it is in these spaces that I felt deeply dehumanized and my boundaries were the most disrespected. I also missed out on a lot of other priorities, both in organizing and elsewhere, because I was so preoccupied with being Asian/American. not going to therapy because I had bad (read: racist) experiences with CAPS and didn’t know how to navigate mental health services after that. happies: (ending on happies so I seem more like a hopeful person lol) having mentors that weren’t just white people: I grew up in North Carolina in a space that was rapidly shifting in racial demographics, but where all my teachers and people I could look up to were white people. Coming to Duke meant for the first time, I had relationships with faculty and staff of color that cared about me, that were proud of me, and that were invested in my personhood. I am absolutely indebted to these mentorships in making me who I am today. learning Asian American Studies and Ethnic Studies: Put simply, there is so much hope in both the student movements and academic fields. Knowing that it is possible and there are dreams to turn the entire Western system of knowing and being upside down is so incredibly hopeful. being so embedded in Asian/American communities: When it was good, it was great. I had months when I spent more time in A/API BASE than in my dorm room because it was such a comfortable space for me to be in community with people. Being in these spaces was my entry way into so much development of my core values and my politics, as well as my ability to articulate these. Despite everything, I hold so much love and care and hope for Asian/American communities on campus. the friends I made along the way. <3 Before I sign off, I have some questions for you, because I’m quite nosy: how’s quadex going? are there multi-racial and multi-ethnic solidarities on campus? what do they look like? did they finally move/expand the center for multicultural affairs? if they didn’t, does BASE’s ceiling still leak? how did you find this letter? how are you doing, during your time at Duke? If you feel compelled, send me a response at shaniawnk@gmail.com. in community and care, shania khoo



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