Genetics

"No strings attached like a cordless phone." - J. Cole


"She said "Some days I feel like shit,
Some days I wanna quit, and just be normal for a bit,"
I don't understand why you have to always be gone,
I get along but the trips always feel so long,
And, I find myself trying to stay by the phone,
'Cause your voice always helps me to not feel so alone,
But I feel like an idiot, workin' my day around the call,
But when I pick up I don't have much to say." -Fort Minor

Preface: April 30, 2012 marks the 37th anniversary of the day Sai Gon fell. It was followed by re-education camps, poverty, discrimination, and persecution. I'm thankful for my voice and to have such an insignificant  blog that is simultaneously representative of my freedom.

1A)

In late March, I sat in on Dr. Linda Linh's lecture to accepted students at Emmanuel about the psychology of food. It was on point.

I'm fortunate, young, and active enough to be able to consume twice as much food as normal people and still have an appetite/ low blood sugar/ low body fat/ low blood pressure/ not gain weight. And I take advantage. It particularly comes in handy on Friday nights if I'm alone, when I'm bored, when I'm stressed at work, when I have physical needs--- she hit it on the dot.

Peter and Eddie would look and laugh at how fascinated I was whenever Dr. Linh made a point about the way people emotionally ate because they realize she's talking about me. What I didn't realize is that 80 percent of one's build is determined by genetic predispositions. I would gain or lose a few lbs but I have remained between 110-120 lbs since adolescence. I could never be model thin, my calves and stomach protrude even when they are strong, and having no womanly curves is not ideal. But to broaden it, her argument is real because it speaks to the stigma and discrimination people who are overweight face in people thinking they're lazy, or they can't say no to that bar of chocolate that I never say no to.

I told my colleague that nutritionist entered my mind when I was listing the potential careers I wanted to have. I'm close to vegan and I exercise. What she told me was straight-forward, "I don't think you're sympathetic enough to be a nutritionist." And I don't think most people are-- I don't think most people can see beyond the weight-- and focus on nurturing rather than blaming someone for getting "like that."

Despite social or economic realities, fat jokes are funny, they just are.

I'm empathic but not sympathetic. A lawyer friend told me I'll probably end up marrying someone with an advanced degree/s who makes good money despite my social justice mind frame and liberal P.O.V.

It's like the weight thing. We as a society/ I as an individual, judge people who are not where I'm at. And the gap in-between makes co-existence and understanding inconvenient. How would I feel if I didn't end up with someone with a degree, credentials, and successful career? How would I feel if I ended up with someone who is overweight? I know the answer already.
----

The inspiration behind my boy-jeans, long hair, tank-top, converse days... the epitome of the beautiful/elegant tomboy.

"20 years in the game, looking 17." -NaS

Preface: After a fair amount of trepidation, I shared the following section with the allies 2 weeks ago in an effort be more vulnerable and to facilitate our conversation on race and social justice.
It's the same hesitance I feel about this blog and my poetry and the reason I've written fewer of them throughout time; the bi-racial/ "bi-ethnic" girl does not have more expertise or a more special/more authentic experience on identity than anyone else. In actuality, I am naive and wrong about many things. Speaking truth to power and un-silencing perspectives, though, while challenging, seemed beneficial for the group. I'm thankful.

1B:

Guatemalan

Mexican

Indian

Ethiopian

Pakistani

Cambodian
Bolivian

Puerto Rican

Thai

Egyptian

Chilean

Dominican

Laotian

Native American

Brazilian

On April fool's day, I was in the park in Beantown with a friend when two African American young men decided to play the guessing game of what they think I am. One of them finally got up the courage to come and ask me, and when I told him mixed Vietnamese with Black, it blew his mind. And it seemed to surprise my friend, too, that people like to play the guessing game about my race. It would always be a non-sub-Saharan country in Africa, a Southeast Asian or Middle Eastern country, a Caribbean nation, or somewhere in South America. "Exotic" with "pretty skin" or "nice complexion" as most would say, and I used to get peeved. But in the past several years, I've found it as a source of amusement.

This post is about how genetics and certain privileges shape and perpetuate existing realities.

I am raised in country and in a world where the Black and White dichotomy is overwhelming, and so in my heart, my reality and my love has always been black even when I am I mixture of things.

But in a sense, it's sort of like a rich person, advocating on behalf of the underprivileged... a large part of my genetics come from Viet Nam, the straight hair, the small frame, the light-"er" skin... What they find special in the "exoticism," Black men often don't find in their sisters. I've caught the side-eye from fully Black, fully African sisters more than a couple times.... like I try too hard but I can't really relate because I wasn't raised in that reality. In certain parts of Africa or the Caribbean, I would be considered white.

I was raised in a blue-collar, somewhat conservative immigrant community which compares itself to low-income Black communities to criticize these Black communities on their shortcomings. Immigrant communities that would always say, 'we pulled ourselves up from our bootstraps. Our children do well in school. Why don't yours?" And because I am part Black, I would always have the feeling of "what are you talking about? These inter-minority comparisons are close-minded, leave out a slew of factors, and help no-one. People of color in a majority White country should not be tearing each other down" but they weren't aiming their criticism of black failures at me because they didn't know... it's something I don't have to LIVE if I don't want to. I couldn't be darker. I couldn't have thicker hair. I couldn't have fewer privileges and I will take advantage of my racial and genetic privileges, and date successful men of color who may or may not find me more "exotic" then their own women. So I do understand the side-eye.

Side eyes much more-so in D.C. than Boston, or Portland, where I often run to for comfort. The homogenous, whiter cities, oddly enough are where love and intimacy has been. Dealing with one's own race/s is always difficult because I am critical, and I love the mannerisms, smell, sounds, movements, realness of people of color--- yet in a city filled with people of color, I feel a deep hole that keeps me up writing these blogs.

And I think that maybe I was raised to be more stoic, uptight, tense--I realize this, even in my body movements, sayings, rhythms-- they're harsh-- Eurocentric, unemotional... I make friends with boys because it involves less "sharing." Yet I'm not sure whether my inclination towards closed-ness/withheld-ness/conservation (coinable terms), my "reactions" to their "actions" (Brandon Douglass) and vice versa with the same has been emotionally healthy for either parties.

Speaking of race relations: Alicia Key's "Unthinkable"