The art of caretaking.
Class of 2022
Growing up as a daughter of resturant owners, I explore the shame of not having parents that could dedicate their time to me and the realization of the sacrifices they made for my happiness.
This is an essay I wrote while applying to college on my identity as a musical theater writer.
A glimpse into the tantalizing cycle of waiting and wanting.
“But I can’t be angry forever that my dad isn’t the dad I wish he was. Anyway, did you see the last episode of Survivor?”
Every new hire must don the skin of a beast and perform a violent ritual daily at this family-friendly theme park.
A poem that tackles surface-layer Black characters and urges Black humanity.
Look me in the eyes when I laugh. Look at our Black bodies that aren’t just bodies and our Black laughter that will never know death, even when we do. Even if we do.
there is something deeply wrong with the body.
This piece is at heart a study of me, a view from inside my room and inside my mind.
A reflection of cultural identity through the lens of a first-generation, Chinese-American girl.
While in new york city, waiting in the long line for a pop-up shop with my friend who was a Shawn Mendes fanatic, I started to feel dizzy.
This is what the process of making hong shao niu rou tang, or chinese braised beef soup, means to me.
The first poem was originally published in an essay titled “Red Stars Over Flushing: Edmond Jabes, Mahmoud Darwish, and Yellow Power.”
Pieces of Legos that click in more ways than one.