The AAPI Existence

Like many people, I have been sitting on the news for the past few days, and what I have to say is:

That could have been me.

Watching the headlines for the past year has been stressful.

When Covid first broke out and before stay-at-home was official, I noticed that everyone on public transportation started giving me wide berth even if the train was crowded because they assumed I was a disease carrier, that people would avoid me in grocery stores (which was the optimal grocery store experience, let’s be honest). But the feeling of “otherness” was the most intense it had been since I was in my primarily white and conservative hometown.

Watching grandfathers and grandmothers get assaulted and attacked for the past couple months, and watching it happen close to home in Oakland and SF, which have strong Asian American populations, is terrifying.

Hearing about that reminds me that it can be me. I can be next. And it makes me even more scared than I usually am to walk out of my own door, confident that I can make it back safe, even if it’s for a short walk.

It’s upsetting to hear how the news is portraying this rise in violence against Asians as a completely new thing. Violence against Asians and racism against Asians has been happening since colonial times.

I have experienced many racist things, including:

Bringing my Asian food to school and being surrounded by a circle of curious classmates who had eaten Lunchables all their lives wondering what in the hell I had brought, why it smelled, wondering whether my bao was a giant marshmallow. It wasn’t, they were disappointed, and my food ended up thrown on the ground.

Being chosen to play Mulan in the school play. There was a lineup of girls for the chorus line and they all had eyeliner except me. I wanted it, but was told, “Oh, but your eyes are slanted enough.”

Being approached in hallways while the word “Konnichi wa” was yelled at me, and when I stared, I was made fun of for not “knowing Chinese.”

I can say for sure that I have experienced racism, and still do in many everyday interactions, but I have also been told that I don’t count as POC because my experience of oppression is not the same and our skin has the potential to be whiter than white people’s skin.

To the first point, everyone has unique experiences when dealing with oppression.

To the second, the color of my skin in this instance is not what sets me apart [acknowledging that colorism is a huge and related and harmful issue]. It is my “otherness”: my culture, the very cells of my being that give me double eyelids, my higher cheekbones, my flatter nose, my straight dark hair that I was ashamed of as a child and desperately wished would suddenly turn blonde and curly.

And so watching the news treat it as a brand new phenomenon is especially frustrating when I know that the history of society against asians has always been violent, from the railroad workers to the Chinese Exclusion Act back in 1883, to SF ordinances in the 1870s that prevented Chinese from being employed by the government and prohibited the use of yeo-ho poles (the primary way that Chinese used to transport goods using a pole slung over their shoulders), Laundry Ordinances (a primarily Chinese occupation back then) and forcing Chinese people into quarantine in 1900 to treat them as carriers of the bubonic plague.

Especially if you look at the wars and/or occupation in China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, the Philippines — and on and on and on — violence against Asians is NOT a new thing at all.

It’s scary, especially as an Asian woman, that outside of racism we additionally have to deal with the objectification and fetishization that comes with our identity.

As an Asian woman, through many people’s lenses, we are not seen as people, rather we are seen as objects of sexual desire which is an image that has been continually perpetuated through media.

There has been a lot of historical context for this, depicting white saviors saving an underprivileged Asian girl.

Take Miss Saigon (based on Madame Butterfly) for example. It is a popular and well-loved tragedy of the 20th century, depicting a love story between an American soldier and a young Vietnamese girl.

TL;DR: Homeslice abandons her and then comes back (with his wife) but then shit happens and the main female lead ends up committing suicide to secure a better future for her child.

Wow. Modern-day Romeo and Juliet. What a beautiful story about love. *vomits*

Let’s reframe:

Asian girl, aged 17, forced to work as a bargirl and prostitute due to dire situation in war-torn country, seeking an avenue of escape and finding it in this American soldier who takes advantage of her naïveté and desperation, then promptly forgets her, returning to America while she continues to struggle, now with a son in tow.

If this script was flipped, and it was an Asian soldier doing the same thing to a poor and underprivileged white girl, would this be romanticized at ALL? It is my belief that it wouldn’t even be written because such a dynamic is so unthinkable that the position of privilege would ever be switched.

The hypersexualization that Asian women confront is society’s invitation to inflict violence against them. Every approach and every harassment is supposed to be seen as a compliment. They are playing the American lieutenant “helping” that 17-year-old bargirl and prostitute, and it makes it so that WE are supposed to be honored that some white man is paying us attention.

Additionally, as we have seen with this latest incident [which is UNDOUBTEDLY a hate crime], this hypersexualization leads to victim blaming.

The police statement was that the perpetrator had a “bad day” and suggested that it was due to sex addiction, and did not mention race-based motivation as a reason for the murders. They additionally specified how he had gone after them to get rid of “temptation,” furthering the message of Asian women as objects of sin and not humans just trying to survive in this world bent on breaking them.

Like everyone else, I’ve had plenty of bad days. I do not go out and murder people when I’m feeling under the weather.

The fact that this is presented as an excuse is disgusting and dismissive of a real and dangerous problem that has become increasingly more visible and out in the open in the past year. Dismissing it as a “bad day” and a result of “sex addiction” takes away the fuel needed to introduce Anti-Asian American Hate Crime laws, which are sorely and sadly needed.

Law enforcement is refusing to see the bigger picture of racially-motivated crime despite crime against Asian Americans rising 1900% in the last year(!!!), and their blindness doubles down on the message that it’s okay to stereotype against a race and perpetuate hatred and violence against a race.

Right now is a scary time and the past year has proven that no matter how much we assimilate, we are forever foreign and now fallen over the cusp and firmly into “otherness.” There is no use in trying to strive for the white ideal because no matter what we do we will never be accepted.

And honestly, that’s okay! If you feel shame around your Asian identity, like I once did, just read up on 1400-1700 AD European hygiene practices and immediately feel relieved that, while Henry the 8th was busy switching castles because the feces pile had literally gotten too high, China was using toothbrushes and actually bathing regularly. [The fact that era is romanticized gives me the heebie jeebies. SO many sex scenes in dramas about them and in reality, rubbing against another person would just probably cover the mattress in rolllllllllllssss of dead skin.]

I am glad that this violence and racism is now stepping into the spotlight at last. Hopefully something good will come from it. If anything, I hope that Asian Americans who once disdained the BLM movement now understand how important it is to fight for justice and the right to be treated equally, and that we can all unite and fight for it all together.

This world is broken, and waiting and dreaming for the world to change is the same as standing by and letting these awful things happen.

We need to stand together and actively seek change for Asian/Pacific Islanders, for Asian/Pacific Islander women, and for every other group that is slowly being crushed under the boot of white supremacy.

A Letter To 22

It’s been the most painful and the most joyful year of my life and I look forward, nervously, to more.

I am coming upon 23, that age where the number looks like a disapproving adult and you realize you truly are no longer a child anymore. The next thing you can look forward to is renting a car at 25, but that’s not nearly as exciting.

I feel as if I have fit a decade of emotions into the last 1 year, and as topsy turvy as it has been, I’m glad it happened and wouldn’t take any of it back. Every painful step, every tear, every anxious heartbeat, even every pimple has been irrevocably folded into the batter that makes up me.

While college years were spent pushing my mind and body to the limit of stress (lookin’ at you, all nighters and last minute study sessions) this past year and a half has been the time where I have learned the beauty and cruelty of the world, and the beauties and weaknesses of my physical body and my mental state.

In the last year, I have done more for myself than I have in my entire life, and the scared little girl that was me when I was 21, when I was 9, when I was 5… she would be thrilled to know of how well and beautifully I grew up.

While I have an incredibly long journey to go through to be happy and at peace with myself, the lessons I’ve learned this year have been monumental in pushing me towards the right direction.

  • Lose the toxic friendships. Yes, even if you love that person to bits.

I have been in some friendships where I bore incredible amounts of mental abuse but continually excused it because, well, I felt sorry. But even if you know they care about you, and you know you care about them, it doesn’t mean that they’re good for you.

“Love conquers all” is one of the phrases that have proven itself the most untrue in this tumultuous year. Frankly, love doesn’t do shit! Love — the idea, the word, society’s idea of it — is used so often as an excuse for bad behavior and to give second, third, fourth chances. The only thing love IS useful for is self-love, because self-love ties in with self-worth, and it takes a recognition of self-worth to realize that, no, they don’t get to treat you this way and no, you absolutely do not deserve to be treated like this.

  • Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

Family is undoubtedly important. However, family is also who you choose to make your family. Society tells us that we owe our family this debt and that debt because of shared blood, and while this may be unconventional, I call bullshit.

The people I choose to call family are people that have treated me like how family is supposed to be treated. With warmth, support, and a whole lotta love.

In Korean, one of the phrases that denotes family means “people who eat together.” And in the past year, I have chosen who I would like to sit at my table.

  • Being alone doesn’t mean being lonely.

From ex-boyfriends, to sisters, to my mom, to my friends, to my OTHER friends, I have always been told this. But I didn’t get it! Because I always felt lonely when I was alone.

I found happiness only through other people and I truly believed that as long as I was able to experience happiness that I was fine. This was the year that I realized that it was unhealthy, because constantly searching for happiness through other people meant that I wasn’t happy with myself. I was just procrastinating (and also terrified) of sitting with myself and having to reflect and realize how many things I disliked about myself simply because at the time it was just easier to ignore than to deal with.

I can’t say that I’m terribly fond of all that I am. I’m lazy, sleep through my alarms, terribly unmotivated, am fantastic at making excuses, chronically skip meals because I’m simply too lazy to cook, and overthink myself into terrible pits of despair. BUT the one thing I CAN say is that I love being alone. I love having my own space. I love uninterrupted me time. I’ve learned to love and embrace just sitting with myself and seeing what comes of it and it’s fed into my sense of self which feeds directly to my sense of self-worth.

  • Make conscious choices instead of letting things happen to you.

If I were given the chance to redo my college experience, I would have no idea what to major in. The vast majority of my hobbies have been put in my path where I picked it up and gained some level of expertise. But for the most part I have not gone out of my way to do things for myself.

This past year I have become a more active player in this game called life. I moved in with supportive housemates, chose to spend more time by myself, chose baking, and am getting myself onto the road of choosing my passions.

I am also choosing to respect my own boundaries which is a nerve-wracking but important step to take as a woman in this world.

In the past if someone hit on me I would end up giving them my instagram and humoring them until they lost interest. If someone said something derogatory I would laugh nervously and try to move on with the conversation. Blocking a person was out of the question. Calling people out invited confrontation, which I am terrified of. And while it is not my responsibility to educate, letting things happen to me has become tiring, and I am beginning the journey of learning how to write my own narrative, which I think is terribly sexy of me 🙂

There are many days where I look into the mirror and hate what I see, days that I sit there remembering naive words that fell out of my mouth like gold painted bricks, days that the sound of my voice and the way I feel grate on every nerve. But I force myself to think of where I was a year before, where I was four years before. How I felt about myself then and how I treat myself now.

I can objectively say I’ve been through a hell of a lot. I’ve learned that I am strong and I am fragile, talented and terrified, mature and childish. All of these things make up me, and I am learning to take pride in my strengths and my faults and everything in between.

So thank you, 22, for your lessons. I will never forget this year. And while I have no idea whether 23 will be kinder, I know that no matter what, I’ll be better for it.

How to Find Meaning in Life

I’m almost 22, and with the dawn of the double duo digits, I find myself as a new grad drowning in the job search shenanigans and fresh from a break up with someone I’m still, frankly, very in love with.

Slap that on top of the overthinker in me, and we have a pretty thick existential sandwich that has sent me down some pretty impressive spirals.

To ponder the meaningless of life is incredibly valid. Everyone does it at SOME point in their lives, and it really is quite easy to just slip into that sense of inevitability.

But, before you read on, give yourself a tight hug, because if you’re wondering about this, you’re possibly feeling very alone or purposeless or experiencing so much tumult that you literally can’t help but wonder, “Why? What’s the point?” And sometimes, also, you just feel … tired. Not excited. And that’s really hard to deal with too.

And so, I would like to share with you a gentle list of things you can do to gradually draw yourself out of your rut.

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Pay attention to the little things

Life can be repetitive and predictable, but at its heart, it’s chaotic and wild and beautiful even in its tamest moments.

You can start by noting the texture of your shirt on your skin. Enjoy the very right feeling of your foot slipping into your shoe and the security that comes with a firm and well-practiced knot.

The sky is never the same. The weather is never the same. Note the color of the sky. Note the breeze and whether it’s strong enough to ruffle your hair, whether it’s blowing from East or West.

Sometimes I see the same people on my morning commute, and it feels like I’m seeing an old friend of sorts aaaaaaaand oh! Brown hair tall girl is wearing VERY pretty earrings! I wonder if they’re new! I pass the same restaurants, but it’s so fun to pick out their scent from the bustling layers of the city. Can I smell the bread? Ooh yes, and how nice and fresh it smells. Can I smell the coffee? Yup, that warm and bitter tang of freshly percolated brew wraps around me for a moment before – Wow, that soup is niiiiiiice.

Make a game of it, until you start romanticizing even the most ordinary aspects of your life.

Even annoying moments: I wonder what song goes to the beat of that jackhammer. Wow that sewage smell really reminds of that fantasy book I read about an orphan boy … UGH someone bumped into me – HMMMM AM I THE NEW MAIN CHARACTER OF A – maybe not but I can dream …

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Find something that excites you and makes you want to get up in the morning

If it’s your job, lucky you! If it’s your SO, amazing! For those with neither, it can be something smaller, like a pet.

Yes, even a chia pet.

For a while, it was my ex until I got blindsided, and I will always miss waking up with a smile because I knew I’d get to talk to him.

For those going through something similar, just know that 1) you have company (me) and 2) there’s going to be a period of time where absolutely everything looks gray and dull but know that there’s a light at the end of that tunnel.

I’m still looking for it too! But I’m trusting it’s there. There is ALWAYS going to be something that can pique your interest that can eventually lead to excitement. After all, it’s a process!

You can start with baby interests! Like, I want to go on a walk in the park. It doesn’t sound very interesting, but being at the park could lead you to spot something that makes your brain go “o o h c o o l.”

I personally really like handwriting, so sometimes I’ll Google different fonts and see if I can copy it by hand. My roommate likes cooking, so she’ll look up different recipes and hype herself up about making a new dish. My super senior cat with a wacky meow gets SUPER excited for water.

My older sister likes video games! My younger sister adores mind-bending quotes from lengthy tomes! My friend loves to do math equations in his spare time! My other friend loves gross medical facts!

These really aren’t things that you might normally think of when you open up your eyes first thing in the morning like “Wow, I’m so well-rested. I’m so glad I’m alive so I can look up gross medical facts.” But, I’m personally so glad I exist if only that I can reshare these gross medical facts and savor the expression of my victim friend.

The appreciate little things is also really important about just developing excitement. When I wake up, I get really excited to brush my teeth (morning mouth is nasty need I say more) so I can have that tingly, fresh, clean feeling (with Crest!). It’s a very tiny thing, but it’s something I get excited about, and that excitement can roll into the rest of your day.

Remember that making a difference doesn’t have to be big

There was a pretty popular quote about animal rescue back in the day about how saving a dog won’t change the world, but by your actions, their world is changed forever.

Often times we aren’t actually aware of how our actions affect the world, and things we do casually can actually have a huge impact. This can range from small compliments, or warning someone that their car is about to be towed, or listening and being there for someone, or even just throwing trash in the proper trash cans.

It can seem inconsequential in a sea of negativity, but by performing these micro-interactions, you just helped contribute to making the world a better place. GO YOU!

When it comes to careers and feeling lost about how your career isn’t impacting the world positively – that can be a pretty hard question to answer. If it’s a very neutral type of job, think about volunteering on the side! If you’re, for example, lobbying for climate change laws and feel hopeless, know that you ARE making a difference, it’s just not very visible, and change is very slow to come. The fact you’re part of it is amazing and I applaud and love you for it.

With young folks like myself, it’s hard not to think about how much change we SHOULD be enacting while we’re saddled with things such as student debt, paying mad expensive rent, feeding ourselves while not really knowing how to cook, and scrambling trying to find a job in a time where they need 5 years of experience for an entry-level position.

However, sometimes you just need time. To grow, to build capital, to actually figure out what your passion(s) are. Once you find stability, you will be more able to enact the change that you want, whether it’s through being able to take a slightly lower-paying job in something you’re ACTUALLY passionate about, or being able to donate to something you think is a really good cause.

Just know that hard times pass, and this rut is a rut you will get through. STRUT THROUGH THE RUT!

So again … 

It’s really hard not to think about how meaningless life is. Maybe you won’t be remembered for the ages and you won’t be famous, but you can still be happy and you can still make a difference. The important part is that we keep trying and that we don’t give up.

Once you start seeing the beauty in the world, hope can start flooding back and make you feel more passionate about being part of that vibrancy that is LIFE. Life only becomes meaningful when you start finding meaning.

And yes, the world is depressing especially with all the stuff going on that makes you want to hide for 582538 years.

However, as my professor once said, the BEST thing you can do is keep the people you love as close as possible and sow seeds of what YOU want to see more of in the world.

 

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Peace + a hug that reminds you of hot cocoa,

Erica

Op-ed: To-Go Boxes Need To Go

BERKELEY – College students and to-go boxes just seem to go together. In the stressful academic environment of university, especially at the University of California Berkeley, many of us nerve-wracked undergraduates hardly have the time to sit down for a proper meal and instead choose to order our sustenance of choice to-go and zoom off to our next class or study session. Despite the temporal convenience of takeout, to-go boxes carry far-reaching consequences for human health and the environment.

After all, the plastic present in the majority of take-out boxes carry harmful chemicals that can lead to less fertility, a lousier immune system, and sometimes even some neurological issues.

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Just two years ago, upon entering one of many local eateries that Berkeley has to offer, I would typically place my order to-go whether or not I planned to sit down and eat. It was so simple; leftovers could quickly be packed up and stowed away for another meal. The next time I ate would be a continuation of refrigerated deliciousness of the previous meal AND I didn’t even have to do dishes. “No one loses,” thought I, a naïve underclassman.

So what’s so bad about takeout boxes?

Since not all to-go boxes are created equal, each is associated with different levels of harm.

Styrofoam is one of the more well-known examples of toxic to-go boxes. Typically used in disposable cups, plates, and – yes – takeout boxes, Styrofoam discharges harmful chemicals into food, particularly easily into hot food. Although banned in Berkeley, it’s still used in surrounding cities and ends up in Berkeley anyways through food delivery services.

According to the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry (ATSDR), health effects associated with Styrofoam include cancer, diminished learning abilities, and fertility issues. Reheating your favorite Pad Thai takeout in the microwave just releases more chemicals into your precious yums.

Alas, tis indeed those you love the most that hurt you the most.

If you thought, “Ah no problem, I can just wait until my food gets cold, bundle it up in Styrofoam, switch containers when I get home, and heat it up on my stovetop after recycling my takeout box like a responsible adult,” the intent is there, but Styrofoam doesn’t discriminate in its harmfulness. The material can neither be recycled nor is it able to politely break down into compost.

With that in mind, many restaurants have switched to the more aesthetic and ‘green’ looking cardboard takeout boxes. This looked like the answer to all our problems. Cardboard is recyclable after all and, besides, what possible harm can cardboard do my body?

As it turns out, appearances are deceiving. Although the cardboard (probably) doesn’t harm us, the coating used to make these boxes oil and waterproof actually contains harmful chemicals that leach into our food. The same coating typically used to make our white couches stain-proof and our waterproof socks waterproof also covers those cardboard takeout boxes.

According to the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), health effects associated with the coating range from higher cholesterol all the way to cancer. The chemicals are known to linger in the human body, and because we are exposed to it through multiple sources, it can eventually accumulate to a toxic level.

If you are currently screaming inside and wondering where you can dig a hole to hide in for 27098 days, firstly, consider Barrow, Alaska as a possibility although the ground may be too hard to actually dig in, and secondly, realize that solutions exist.

Restaurants that offer takeout should provide takeout boxes of fully compostable material, (considered ‘least’ harmful) and use foil as an alternative since it’s less affected by heat and consequently less likely to release harmful chemicals into the precious burrito bundle it wraps with much love.

For individual action, bring your own reusable food storage containers, like mason jars, beeswax food wrap sheets, and your glass Pyrex container you are terrified of dropping. It may be a hassle at first, but for your personal longevity, it’s worth it.

These harmful takeout boxes affect both the health and the environment. Tens of thousands of other college students in Berkeley – and millions of other college students around the world – who share a penchant for takeout food are all on the losing end of the takeout bargain. The effect of one person using harmful takeout boxes is negligible, but when that effect is multiplied by billions around the world, the health of the environment and the possibility of a bright future begins to fade.

Poppin’ in Purple

Brown eyes.

Over 50% of the world has brown eyes.

Like black clothes, brown eyes kind of just GO with everything.

However, according to countless blogs and magazines, the color that complements brown eyes best is purple … but when I think of purple eyeshadow I usually think of this:

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Which is still A Look (whether you want to be Maleficent or Diaval), but just hard (for me at least) to pull off.

This led me to create two subtle purple looks that are both charming and easy to pull off. They neither take much makeup expertise nor give you the appearance of a black eye! GROUNDBREAKING AMIRIGHT?? Let’s get cracking –

LOOK ONE

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For this / t r e n d y / all over the lid makeup, I used Daddy Super Shock Shadow by Colourpop, Don’t Leave Super Shock Pigment by Colourpop, and Chaos Eye Pencil by Urban Decay.

 

Daddy went all over the eyelids while avoiding the brow bone. I used my finger for my upper lid and a small flat shadow brush for the undereye.

 

I applied Don’t Leave, a hot pink pigment with shimmer, as eyeliner with an angled brush. Combined with Chaos, an electric blue, it made a deeper purple shade that added definition to my eyes. I added a soft touch of Chaos on the outer third of my lower lashline.

This look is fresh and simple, perfect for Spring that is hovering just around the corner.

 

 

 

LOOK TWO

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For this simple and subtly edgy look, I used Colourpop Super Shock Shadow in Dare and (again) Urban Decay Eyeliner in Chaos.

For the all-over-the-lid color, I went with a simple orange-toned, brown eyeshadow to create definition. Just sweep with a fluffy eyeshadow brush and push on! (But avoid your browbone!)

For the star of the show – le eyeliner – I lined my eyes with Urban Decay’s Chaos and then popped Colourpop’s Dare over it with an angled eyeshadow brush, sharpening it into a wing.

Dare is a very warm, VERY glittery purple and, since I wanted a cooler color, the electric blue layer underneath deepens and cools the color to my taste.

This look is cute, a lil’ edgy, and subtle enough that you won’t look like you got plums on your eyes.

 

 

 

Hope you enjoyed these looks ❤ I’ll be back with more!

My Two Scents – On Scents

One of my favourite perfumes is Miss Dior Blooming Bouquet.

It’s feminine without being too floral, sweet enough with just the right amount of edge. It embodies the “strong, independent woman” mood while still being very much ‘woman.’

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I had wanted this for about 2 years before I finally got it – every time I went into a Sephora I would always sniff it and debate and debate … It’s an investment after all and for many people, scents become part of their identity.

A spritz or two of this baby is always the finishing touch in my morning routine, and on the rare occasions I do forget, it always feels like something is missing.

I have a specific number of things that give me self-confidence, and smelling good is one of them. Knowing I smell good always puts a bounce in my step and the world becomes my oyster.

Whatever makes you strut your stuff – do it. Make the world your runway ❤

Welcome :)

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Hello Friends,

Welcome to my blog! My name is Erica and I’m just a small bean with big dreams. I love makeup, fashion, and food – they make me and my eyes extremely happy, and hopefully, they will also make you and yours feel the same.

Warning: I love puns so I will slip them in as often as possible so prepare to feel many headdesk moments.

Otherwise, I’m just a young’un figuring her way through life. Thanks for joining me on my journey, and hopefully we’ll learn some great things together ❤