A high school type of love: A personal essay
WikiImages/Creative Commons
And it’s looking back at the memories, at how much we’ve changed this past year, when I truly realize the magnitude of the impact you have had on me.
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Loving my honey and silk
Cal in Color
The road since the start of this year has been long, but as a Chinese American student here, I think I’ve finally come to love my honey and silk.
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Snap out of Snapchat
Cal in Color
I’m long past caring about censorship only when it comes to Snapchat, but I’ve found a new appreciation for the ability to use social media as I wish.
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See no sex, hear no sex
Cal in Color
I quickly came to learn that the “s-word” was something to tip-toe around at home, something we acted like didn’t exist, that was fully off-limits.
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Escaping white validation
Cal in Color
Though I have been able to leave behind much of my need for white validation, my discomfort with the feeling of never fully fitting in remains.
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What’s up, teacher?
Cal in Color
On the first day of class, my professor explained that he’s done drugs and has had multiple wives, and ergo, should be deemed “cool and hip” in our eyes.
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Model minority myth
Cal in Color
The label of being the “model minority” — one that I rarely find any Asian American actually taking pride in — is more discriminatory than it is flattering.
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From coffee beans to caramel
Cal in Color
English, to me, felt trendy, international. It slipped out of my mouth as smooth as caramel. Chinese was awkward, bulky, mundane, like chewing coffee beans.
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The weight of being skinny
Cal in Color
We were too young then to realize how abnormal this was — how unreasonable it is to expect a barely chubby child to stay below a certain weight for looks
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Lucky to be here
Cal in Color
And while my mother comforted me, she would often whisper, “Don’t be sad. We are so lucky to have gotten to move to America.”
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