Election results with mom

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Sometimes, I really don’t know why I bother. Maybe it’s because I wish sometimes that I could actually have intelligent, intellectually stimulating conversations with my uneducated parents (yes, and as my good friend’s proud-working-class-wannabe-hipster boyfriend who is 48 years old just pointed out to me, “And with that, you just lost the blue collar vote.” Well, fuck you, too. Now I need to apologize for being educated and understanding how to differentiate facts from fiction?!). We just cannot have an intelligent argument. It’s never going to happen, ever. But this is what happened on Friday night over the phone:

Mom: Are there riots going on in New York?

Me (playing dumb): Why would there be riots? What are you talking about?

Mom: Well, because that white man won the election and Hillary lost. There are riots happening all over San Francisco. So dangerous.

Me: That “white man” – you mean Donald Trump?

Mom: Yeah, him.

Me: Well, can you blame them for being angry? Now, we have a racist, sexist, bigoted fascist running this country with no experience at all.

Mom: Did you vote for Hillary?

Me: Yes, because I’m not stupid.

Mom: I don’t know why you are so upset. What has Hillary ever done for you? Has she ever put a roof over your head or put food on the table for you? What has she done?

Me: That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. WHEN HAS TRUMP PUT FOOD ON MY TABLE OR GIVEN ME A PLACE TO LIVE?!

Mom: Okay, okay. I don’t want to talk about this anymore – there’s no point in arguing about this.

(She also made sure to add somewhere in this ridiculous conversation while laughing: “Well, he couldn’t be all bad. Otherwise, why would so many people have voted for him?” Ummm, millions of people think that people of color are inherently less intelligent than white anglo-saxons, and that women are innately inferior to men — does that make it right?!!!!).

There’s no point in explaining that Hillary as a woman would be a symbol of change and progression for our backwards country. I’m 30 years old; I still have not seen a female commander in chief of this stupid country. There’s no point in telling her that many of the policies that Hillary has advocated for have very likely benefited my mom either directly or indirectly. She could never understand that.

And as Chris aptly pointed out, “Hehe, now your mother is jealous of Hillary. That is hilarious.”

 

“So, what I’ve learned is…”

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Despite winning the popular vote, Hillary Rodham Clinton, the first female presidential candidate of a major political party, the most qualified presidential candidate in the history of our country, the most prepared person on earth, lost the presidency to Donald Trump. I have never been more emotional in my life about politics, but I sobbed when it was all said and done. In the moment I found out, this country did not feel welcoming of me, of my husband, of my family, any of my friends of color, of any of my female friends.

I don’t know what hurt more — the fact that a woman as accomplished as Hillary Clinton could not break the highest glass ceiling in the land in the year of 2016, or that a bigoted, racist, inexperienced white supremacy supporter could actually be leading the most powerful nation on earth. It’s two days later, and I am still broken. When I think of the future, I think, could I possibly have my first child during a Trump administration? What kind of hope is this child going to be imbued with in that case?!

On Wednesday night, I attended the first session of a mentoring program I’m starting for high school-age children that are in foster care. It’s a small group of children living in the Bronx and in Brooklyn, all of African, Trinidadian, Puerto Rican, or Dominican descent. After some ice breakers and group activities, one of the more outgoing kids spoke up and asked if we could all talk about the election. We went back and forth and talked about Hillary’s qualifications, Trump’s qualifications (none, other than being rich), and all the scandals behind the both of them. The resounding theme among these kids was that they were shocked Hillary had lost and they had all hoped she would have won. They did not understand why Trump won, and sadly, as the adults in the room, none of us mentors could explain to them why. It was all just too near and raw. The outgoing boy pipes in again: “So, what I’ve learned from this election is that as long as you are a rich white man, you can say or do whatever you want, even the worst things, and you can still become President of the United States.”

I had to hold back tears in my eyes and keep a straight face as he said this to our group. All the mentors looked dejected as we exchanged looks with each other and uselessly looked down at the floor. We all felt so useless in that moment; it was so obvious. We were rendered speechless. How were we supposed to explain this to these kids, kids who have endured so much difficulty so young, who have come from broken homes, and who constantly have to battle with issues of poverty and inequality every single day of their lives?

What I’d really love to know is… how are Trump supporters who actually voted for him discussing his victory to their kids? How are these parents and grandparents explaining to their children that this man is actually good and empathetic, that he could actually be an example to children around the world despite parading around and treating women like pleasure objects, saying all blacks live in the disgusting inner cities, that Mexicans are all rapists and that we need to build a wall to protect America from those rapists? How do we teach our children to abide by the law via the “law and order” that he loves to yell about when this man won’t even pay his taxes that the rest of us have to do?

I feel broken. Just broken.

 

Hello, reality.

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On the night of Tuesday, November 8, 2016, the United States of America decided that they wanted change. Somehow, we decided that Donald J. Trump could bring that change. And then the next morning, I woke up to the official news after hours and hours of seeing too many states that were “too close to call,” and I sobbed. Trump Nation is now our reality.
The day after was when the country exploded with white supremacy marches on streets and schools across America. The racial slurs, fights, and attacks I have read about have been endless in the last two days in towns and cities everywhere, whether in the rust belt or in the blue bubbles of San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York. And all I could think to myself is, is this how America wants to respond to the eight years of Barack Obama, the first black president of the United States, by insulting his intelligence, contribution, and grace by electing a childish, politically inexperienced bigot into the White House who has no family values and believes women are merely objects to ogle and raise children at home? This is a man who is so naive and short sighted that he actually believes the main problem around illegal immigration is because of the “lack of borders” between the U.S. and Mexico, and to solve that, he wants to build a wall and have Mexico pay for it? If you want to stop illegal immigration into this country, then you should try to propose stopping all air traffic into this country, and then see how the entire world will react to that!

I’m taking this very personally as someone who is not only a woman, but a woman of color who is married to a brown immigrant who has no right to vote without U.S. citizenship (who wants to voluntarily be tied to the IRS for the rest of their life? Like they say, there are only two certain things in life: taxes and death. The U.S. really takes that to heart). The way immigrants of color are treated and referred to in this country has completely disgusted me, and too many racist attacks have happened in the last few days since the election results were made final that they have shaken me to my core. The fact that people are still chanting and carrying white supremacist signs in 2016 is just beyond anything I can understand. Trump’s presidential run has encouraged David Duke, the former head of the KKK, to run for a Senate seat in the next election cycle, because he himself said that he realizes Trump’s rise to power has awakened the realization among White Americans that their power is gradually being taken away by people of color, and that just does not sit well with him… because the Founding Fathers would not have wanted it this way. THIS is the America we are in now. Why is the former leader of the KKK not behind bars and instead running for an open Senate seat?!

I feel hurt. I just don’t see how “conservatives” and Trump voters cannot understand this. They live in their own bubbles and yell at us for living in our bubbles and just do not understand the feeling of not belonging or being discriminated against.
Also, when did it be okay for the President of the United States to take office and have zero political experience? When?! Obama got criticized during his campaign for not having enough experience; Trump has none, yet he’s a fine, fine candidate. Now, he’s taking over. F***.

Hillary vs. the Fascist: D-Day

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At 7:10am this morning, I went to my poll location and cast my ballot. Then, I headed to the gym for my 4.2-mile run.

I think we all vote for different reasons, but this a slight extension of what I posted on my Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter feeds, and I figured I would use this blog to elaborate on why.

As the daughter of an immigrant Vietnamese mother who fled Vietnam during the war to the U.S. in hopes of a better life and an actual education (because she never had one in Vietnam) and an American-born Chinese father who served in the Vietnam War on the American side, I vote. My mother fled communism and had to witness two of her own brothers die right in front of her eyes — they were killed for having skills, one being a teacher and the other being an artist. She came here hoping she’d never have to go through something as awful, nor would her children. My father, as a Private in the Vietnam War, was made fun of for being an Asian soldier serving on the American side and was told not to get confused for Vietnamese. Yes, the U.S. Army was racist and not united at all. It’s funny how people don’t talk much about that.

 
As the sister of a brother who committed suicide in a society with a broken healthcare system that still refuses to acknowledge mental health as an integral part of overall health, I vote. My Ed never voted. He was a victim of the crappy American education system and didn’t think his vote really counted. In his memory, I vote for a better future for people like him who suffered and fell through the cracks of our abysmal education and health systems.


As the wife of a selfless, intelligent, and ambitious brown immigrant who could kick anyone’s ass, including mine (hey, I never claimed to be a history buff) in an American history test, and who is constantly getting extra screenings at airports around the world and in this country only because of the color of his skin and the fact he does not have a U.S. passport, I vote. He is not legally able to vote, so my vote counts not just for Ed and me, but also for him.


As a person of color who has faced racial discrimination and been told to “go back to China,” I vote. I don’t care what all these ignorant people who live in bubbles say; racism still is prevalent in society, and anyone who turns a blind eye to it will never have even an ounce of my respect.


As a woman who is painfully cognizant of the fact that women in this country have not even had the right to vote for 100 years yet and is angered by apathetic American females who take this for granted, I fucking vote. I barely want to be associated with women who actively choose to NOT exercise their right to vote. It is a privilege. I cannot say or write that enough. And it’s so sad to see so many people ignore that. I get very, very angry over women not voting.


As a human being who hopes for a brighter and more progressive tomorrow for my future children and yours, I vote.

On this historic Election Day 2016, I voted. I hope you will, too.

JUST DON’T VOTE FOR TRUMP OR THIRD PARTY. SAVE US FROM THE THREAT OF FASCISM!

Registering to vote, part 2

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So over a month ago, before the deadline arrived for voter registration in the state of New York, I encouraged one of my direct reports to check that she was registered to vote. She had done it inadvertently by getting her driver’s license at the DMV by checking a box on her application (since I had registered over 12 years ago, I figured times had changed since then to make it easier to register to vote – it’s so simple, but this country wants to make it so damn hard).

Today, she asked me where my voting location was. I was excited, thinking she was ready to vote tomorrow, as well, so I told her it was just four blocks from my apartment, and I was planning to go there right before the gym on the way to work in the morning. I asked her where hers was, and she had a solemn look on her face and said, “Yvonne, don’t be mad at me. I’m not going to vote. I messed up my voter registration. I lied to you. Voting has just never been a priority in my life.”

I started asking her about the steps we did together last month, that we checked her voter registration was in Chelsea, her own neighborhood, so all she had to do was go there tomorrow, but she said it wasn’t that simple, and insisted she was not voting and could not, and her boyfriend was really mad at her. So, I said, well, that’s too bad. And because I had no desire to see her face or talk to her or listen to all her bullshit, I grabbed my coat and went out for a long, long walk.

I just couldn’t believe it. Someone I actually hired for my team is going to be so lazy and selfish (and frankly just stupid) as to not vote? She’s going to completely take for granted the fact that women fought for the right to vote endlessly and we haven’t even had the right to vote in this country for even 100 years yet. It’s 2016, people. This should piss everyone off and be a point of embarrassment for us all. People have fought and died over granting the right to vote for us all, and she just wants to throw it all away by saying that “voting has just never been a priority in my life” — yes, because shopping for new clothes, having the perfect lip color, and managing her silly fashion blog are priorities in her life?! And what’s worse is that we sat down together and checked together at the end of September! I was infuriated and I could feel my face getting hot. If I could fire her just for lying to me and being so lazy and selfish, I would.

This is what angers me about people who say that all of us who understand the importance of voting need to spend time patiently educating those who do not understand why it’s important to vote and help them register instead of just criticizing them and doing what Bill Maher does — calling them part of this “stupid fucking country.” Well, guys — here’s a case in point: I explained to her why it was important in a very mild voice with enough time to get everything checked and done. I urged her in September to check her registration and make sure she had everything correct. She still failed. She didn’t care. She still didn’t get it. And that’s not my fault; that is the fault of our crappy education system here not instilling the importance of our freedom and the desire for progress, not regression, in society. And to some degree, I cannot really blame her. How would her life change if Trump became president vs. Hillary? For the most part, her life would remain the same — she’s a white working professional woman living in New York City with her white boyfriend working in finance who is from Connecticut. If a vote has no direct impact on her life, she doesn’t need to care, right? She doesn’t need to care about people like me and my husband, people of color and one who is an immigrant who consistently faces conscious and subconscious racism all the time. But I guess if someone “pussy-grabbed” her, maybe she would be concerned then? Who knows. I can’t even count on her acting if something like that happened to her. I’m so sick of women who fulfill gender stereotypes.

Bombing nightmare

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Last night, I dreamt it was our wedding day at Casa, except instead of it being a regular day, terrorists attempted to bomb the wedding venue. All of our vendors ran, and all of our guests went hiding under cover in basements that the Casa architects built in the event of emergencies for shelter. As we all sat in the basement of Casa, I wondered, are our vendors coming back if the bombs are found to be fake? Am I going to get back all of our wedding deposits and payments? I wonder how the photos turned out during the ceremony before the bomb threats were known?

This sounds insane, but the thought of a country potentially led by Donald Trump has triggered these nightmares.

Skincare

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Today, Chris and I went to have our annual facials together at my favorite and relatively affordable skincare spot in midtown. Every year, I wait for the esthetician to tell me that my skin is congested around my nose, cheeks and forehead, and to give me tips on how to get all the gunk out between facials. I don’t indulge in monthly or even once-a-season facials the way facial spas recommend because I am cheap and don’t want to indulge myself too much, so I usually will use scrubs and masks at home. The two clay masks I got in Paris and Seoul seem to be working very well for me, as for the very first time, the esthetician, after examining my face thoroughly, declares, “Your skin is actually quite clean. I don’t see any problems here, and no congestion.”

Maybe Korean and French skincare isn’t just all marketing after all. I love it when I buy something and it actually works the way it says it’s supposed to. 

Chris got told he had good skin, but that he needs to start moisturizing because of dryness that his esthetician detected. “My skin is perfect,” he replied in defiance. Sure, it is. No one is getting any younger here.

Vietnam War “mistake”

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Tonight, we went to see a play called “Vietgone,” which portrays the Vietnam War, the American’s involvement in it, and Vietnamese refugees being brought to the U.S. refugee camp in Arkansas to establish new lives.

The play actually touches upon a frequently heard sentiment, that the Vietnam War was a “mistake,” that the U.S. had no place to be a part of the war between North and South Vietnam and only got into it for selfish reasons. While all of that may be true, what is also true is that a lot of great things came out of it; many Vietnamese people were successfully resettled in the U.S. as a result of the American involvement via the refugee camps, and I know many of these people today. They are doing well, in their stereotypical doctor/lawyer positions. If they aren’t doctors and lawyers, their children are certainly entering these prosperous fields and other lucrative, well looked upon professions. My mom married my dad, and my dad brought her over to the U.S. for a “better life,” which yielded Ed and me, for better or for worse. My mom gets upset about the war and doesn’t like to talk about it because of the tragedies she had to witness, but she looks at the American involvement as positive because she sees it as the Vietnamese dad sees it in this play: the Americans were trying to give her a better life. She’s in America today because of this war. And from my dad’s perspective, being a part of the U.S. Army, he looks at it from a positive, idealistic stand point in that he was sent there to make a difference. He doesn’t see it as a “mistake” or a waste.

It’s easy to call a war or a political decision a mistake when it had no direct impact on your life. It’s not as easy when it did have an impact on your life. That’s why most people’s opinions are full of crap when it comes to day to day things.

Cubs trigger

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For the first time in 108 years, the Chicago Cubs have won the World Series as of last night. For those of you who know me, you know that a) I don’t give a sh*t about sports, and b) I especially hate baseball. I think it’s one of the most boring sports on earth. The only reason I am writing about baseball tonight is that the World Series enthusiasm reminds me of the few baseball games I have been to where I actually enjoyed myself (whether I paid attention the whole time is another story), all games where I never paid for my tickets. And then I remember how mad my brother got at me the one time I went to a San Francisco Giants game at the expense of a company I was interning at during college, and he couldn’t believe I would go to a game with my company and not with him.

“It’s different!” I insisted to him. “The company’s paying for it, so I don’t have to spend anything on it! If we went, we’d actually have to pay.” (I’m still a cheap Asian at heart. Our parents taught me well.. or maybe not).

“That’s not the point!” Ed yelled back. “You’re willing to go with your colleagues but not with me! Who cares about the money — I could pay for it!”

I explained to him that it had nothing to do with my colleagues vs. him; it had to do with paying for tickets and not paying for tickets, but Ed would not have it. His feelings were hurt, and I felt bad and had to say I was sorry. He didn’t talk to me for a few days and said I was being selfish.

I look back and really regret always declining every time he asked if I wanted to go to a baseball game with him. Ed never had real friends, so he would go to a game only if our cousins went with him or if I went, or if the occasional church semi-friend went. And I always declined, completely forgetting his “circle” of people was so small, and that if I declined, it meant he may not be able to go and enjoy these experiences at all. All Ed wanted was someone to spend time with to have these experiences, and I denied that to him. Sometimes, I really hate remembering all the little things I could have done to have made his life better. There’s nothing left to do now. And remembering and then regretting doesn’t make me feel better.