Asian Fusion Family and Food
Recently, the New York Times ran an article “Black? White? Asian? More Young Americans Choose All of the Above” examining the changing (or not-changing) attitudes toward people of mixed-race. The report spotlighs a group of college students in the Multiracial and Biracial Student Association at the University of Maryland.
My Kindergartener brought home a flyer for the Growing Up Asian in America contest.
Oh, sweet! You can win up to $27,000 in scholarship money… just by writing an essay about being Asian! Where do I sign up?
I’ve had this conversation a dozen times the past week:
“Can you believe that Amy Chua?”
“That book is outrageous There’s no way I’m reading it!”
“Are you done with your copy? Can I borrow it?”
Really. For many of my Asian American friends, Amy Chua’s “Why Chinese Mothers are Superior” essay in the Wall Street Journal set off a visceral reaction
Upon reading Amy Chua’s “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother” in its entirely, I have to say that the narrative arc does turn out differently than the “Why Chinese Mothers Are Superior” essay in the Wall Street Journal suggests.
No less than half a dozen people on my Facebook page posted link’s to Amy Chua’s essay in the Wall Street Journal publicizing her controversial new parenting memoir (handbook?) “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother”. She’s certainly stirring up a frenzy in the Asian American community and making quite a name for herself.
Whether you are making a resolution or ten… or just resolving to accept yourself… I hope the beginning of calendar year brings opportunities to live life more fully.
Here are some posts you might enjoy:
I came home from Costco recently with a trunk full of supplies: two loaves of bread, juice boxes, cereal, chicken, and a box of garbage bags. Only when I reached into the cabinet to put away the garbage bags, I realized there was another unopened package already there. This bugs me to no end.
I’ve never been one of those people who sees their car as a sartorial extension of their identity. Because then I would be a silver minivan — great for long road trips and hauling a team of soccer players, not so great for the ego.
But a few weeks ago, as I was driving up to San Francisco to visit a prospective grad school, I noticed something. The odometer in my van had flipped over 100,000.
