This is just sad. This isn't just a loss for Asians and the Asian experience, this is a loss for everyone.
KQED says Pacific Time's cancellation was purely a budgetary issue, but Asians are already such a small part of mainstream media and now we are being pushed further out. I'd much rather listen to Pacific Time than the California Report or the BBC World Service report. I can get news about California or the world from myriad sources, but where can I find dedicated news and information about the Asian experience, particulary as it relates to the Pacific rim?
I've written my letter, if you care to let KQED know how you feel about this, you can email them at: email@example.com or call 415-864-2000.
If you live in the Bay Area, I highly recommend that you
visit the University of California, Berkeley Art Museum to see a new exhibition
titled, One Way or Another: Asian American Art Now. In addition to seeing
your very own Twizzle’s pull-over sweater incorporated into an installation called Unraveling
by Korean-born artist, Jean Shin, you can see a taxidermic pig wrapped in cow
skin; provocative videos of a young Japanese-American artist in her bra and
panties encountering fat, old men; remarkable sculptures of ordinary objects
(e.g., a Formica kitchen cupboard, a public waste bin) created solely of
canvas; a video featuring a woman dressed up in a shrimp costume dancing on the sidewalk; and much more. All of the art featured in this exhibit deals with "post-identity" issues among young Asian
American artists. The exhibition was organized by the Asia Society Museum in New York,
and conceived by its director, Melissa Chiu; Susette S. Min, assistant
professor of Asian American studies and art history at UC Davis; and
Karin Higa, senior curator of art at the Japanese American National
Museum in Los Angeles. There’s something for
everyone in this show, so don’t miss out, and support the visual arts at UC Berkeley!
EDITED TO ADD: The Los Angeles presentation of this exhibit will take place at the Japanese American National
Museum, from Feb. 9 to May 2, 2008.
As those who are familiar with my personal blog know, I am not in love with my mother-in-law. Ah, yes, I can hear some of you respond, 'Well, who is?' I will tell you who: those of you who responded with 'How can you NOT be in love with your mother-in-law?' Yeah, that's who...
My own mother did not have a love relationship with her mother-in-law, a.k.a. my Paternal Grandmother (PG). In fact, I remember that icy cold front with which PG greeted our whole family. Mom was an educated woman, with her own ideas, and *GASP* she was from the southern tip of Korea... my father's family came from the northern tip, refugees from the Korean War.
This past Friday was our school’s annual Fall Picnic. As you may recall, last spring I wrote about being snubbed from a Mom’s Night Out event in which several moms from my kid’s school organized an evening of socializing.
As I’ve alluded to before, out school is fairly diverse and considered an “inner-city” school. It is also a magnet school, which means that it has a specialized curriculum (in this case Montessori). Families who live in the school’s neighborhood zone can automatically get into the school while those outside the zone need to hope that they get picked from the lottery. We have a large mix of African immigrant families and a decent representation of Native American Indian, African American and SE Asian families in the neighborhood and school. We also have a much-larger-than-average representation of gay and lesbian and transracial adoptive families (and several are both).
Over the summer, I’d tried several times to talk to my co-worker, who first informed me of the Mom’s Night Out event. I felt this co-worker was an ally and someone I could trust. However, we don’t work in the same building, so I didn’t get the chance to talk to her in person about what transpired until July.
My colleague was saddened and as upset as me about how “Mary” passed over the moms of color when handing out invitations. She admitted she hadn’t looked around to see how many moms of color were at the party, but she related that she often thought about why more parents of color didn’t participate in the PTO or on other school committees. We had a nice discussion about inclusiveness and how organizations can recruit and retain families of color.
I have to admit, I'm not much of a sports fan. I can barely muster enough enthusiasm to watch the Olympics every four years, but somehow the current FIFA Women's World Cup has me hooked. My interest is in part due to signing up my son for soccer for the first time (making me a certified "soccer mom") and the mysterious, but kick-ass North Korean team.
As the Nabi family officially starts countdown until our trip to Korea begins, I am finding myself straddling the two cultures, Korean and American (well, that's too broad, I guess - small town Wisconsin, suburban Minnesotan, and mishmash of Midwestern towns, mostly non-cosmopolitan) cultures, more often with wider stance that I had expected or, rather, I should be at this junction of my marriage and life.
Not to say that Papa Nabi is completely devoid of travel-experiences - he was in the navy for a couple of years but mostly on South American waters or European/Mediterranean waters and have visited Europe a few times in October for certain beer fest in a country called Germany - but we are clashing a bit on our ideas regarding preparations for this trip.
Having grown up in an international boarding school and then lived in the Midwest for the past 18 years, I am told that I don't have a discernable accent. In fact, when I meet people with whom I had previously communicated only over the phone or e-mail, they're immediately surprised to see an Asian due to my married name.
Yet, I'm frequently, nay, constantly, approached by random strangers who revel in guessing where I am from. No, it's not that they think, from overhearing my accent (or lack thereof), that I am not a U.S. citizen. In fact, they assume I am an American and still ask that tired old question: "Where are you from?"
My favorite so far is from the time when I worked at a law school in 2002: