When my life-long mentor asked me to take her back to my middle- and high-school journey, I was curious to know if my Vietnamese-American friends had faced the same challenges I had. Then I read Phúc Trần’s memoir and found many similarities in our experiences.

We settled in Pennsylvania. He was in Carlisle and I was in Lancaster. We faced bullying in school. We fought kids who called us “gook” and other racist remarks on the school playgrounds. We both turned to music to fit in. He got into punk rock and I got into hip-hop. Of course, we fantasized about American girls. I went as far as kissing her and he went as far as eating her out.

Although we were both raised by immigrant parents, I didn’t face the beatings from my father like he did from his. My dad was not around, whereas his father played a big role in his life. Phúc writes:

My father had started using a metal rod that he brought home from the tire factory. He couldn’t hit me as hard with his hand anymore (the manual spankings had stopped hurting me), and even a wooden spoon did not inflict enough pain: hence, the metal rod, dark gray and about the length of a yardstick, pitted with bits of ruddy corrosion. The rod was a piece of machinery that had been thrown away, and my father, eyeing it in the scrap heap, immediately saw its domestic potential. The rod was more efficient because it hurt more. And as a result, it required less effort while achieving maximum results. American efficiency, meet Vietnamese ingenuity. With the metal rod, two or three cracks across our buttocks or the back of our thighs sufficed. Message received, loud and clear.

In that particular incident, however, I was beaten with the rod across the rear end and legs with a dozen or so blows. I remember crying into the floral velour pattern of our brown couch and hearing my father counting off the blows. (He counted upward from one, so I never knew when he would stop.) Một. Hai. Ba. Bốn. Năm. Sáu. Bảy. Tám. Chín. Mười. Ten. I lost count after mười.

The scene is disturbing to read, but is nothing out of the ordinary for a Vietnamese father to discipline his son. Another major difference between us was that Phúc was a voracious reader as a kid whereas I hated books back then. His reading has served him well. This memoir is articulate, engaging, funny, and real. I loved every page, and more for all the Vietnamese words are written with diacritics.

On January 28, Antoine Watson, a nineteen-year-old African American, violently pushed Vicha Ratanapakdee, an eighty-four-year-old Asian American, to the ground. The disturbing incident, which took place in San Francisco’s Anza Vista neighborhood, was caught on video. The victim was killed.

On January 31, Yahya Muslim, a twenty-eight-year-old African American, violently shoved a nine-one-year-old Asian American to the ground. The disturbing incident, which took place in Chinatown, Oakland, California, was caught on video. The victim suffered lacerations, abrasions, and a contusion to the left thumb.

These horrific hate crimes need to be brought to justice. How did we come to this point? When I was a kid, I had been taught to help the elderly. I was told to help them cross the street or to get them to where they needed to go. It never occurred to me to push or shove the elders to the ground, especially if they hadn’t done anything to me.

These types of attacks are the motivation that drive Asian Americans to support the demagogue. I support Black Lives Matter, but I can’t defend these hateful actions against my own community. I condemn these hate crimes.

When I still worked in the office, I would see Ms. Consuelo Granados almost everyday at noon. She either waited for me to microwave my food or vice versa. We made small conversations. Through Ms. Granados’s limited English, I have learned about her family from her children to grandchildren. When she knew there was leftover food in the building, she would notify me. Sometimes, she would give me a homemade tortilla.

I have tremendous respect for Ms. Granados. She shows up everyday and keeps the place clean. Although we work in the same building, I didn’t realize that she is not a George Mason employee until she told me. Mason contracted her company, which pays her $10.50 an hour, to work in our building.

Today, I have learned that Ms. Granados had COVID-19. Her husband, pregnant daughter, and son-in-law were also infected. Her company did not provide its workers with masks. When she had severe symptoms, she was granted two weeks of paid leave. She returned to work after five months with a $670 hospital bill that went to collector. Then her grandson was born prematurely and hospitalized for 13 days.

When the school sent out the news, my heart broke for my friend and coworker. I am glad that the law school community had pulled together a relief fund through GoFundMe to help her out during this difficult time.

After checking out Mapping Corruption, an interactive exhibit I had developed for The American Prospect, an art director at Mural Arts Philadelphia had reached out to me last year to see if I would be interested in developing an artistic, informational project related to COVID-19. Of course, I jumped on board. The day we scheduled for a kick-off meeting, my mom went on the ventilator. I had to drop the project.

A few weeks ago, I sent them an email to give them the reason I had to drop the ball on them and hoped that they had found a developer to take on the project. They were in the process of interviewing several candidates, but decided to work with me. I was ecstatic that they would give me another shot. I hope I won’t let them down.

We kicked off the meeting last week and I loved their illustrations. The information will also be useful. I am glad that they will publish these materials as an interactive, informational website. I can’t wait to share it once we launch. Of course, I will make the announcement once it goes live. Anything related to COVID-19 is personal to me. I will dedicate this project to my beloved mother.

Thưa mẹ, sáng Chủ nhật tuyết lại rơi. Tưởng đâu không được đến chùa nhưng sư cô bảo cứ việc đến tụng kinh và cầu siêu cho mẹ.

Mới đó mà mẹ đã rời xa chúng con sáu tuần rồi. Thời gian vun vút trôi qua mà hình bóng của mẹ vẫn không nhạt phai. Con vẫn thấy giọt nước mắt cuối cùng rơi xuống mi mẹ. Con vẫn cảm nhận được hơi thở cuối cùng của mẹ. Con vẫn nghe được nhịp tim cuối cùng của mẹ. Con không thể nào không xót xa mỗi lần tưởng nhớ lại những giây phút cuối cuộc đời của mẹ. Thời gian và tâm lý không thể giúp được con xoa dịu nỗi đau ấy. Giấc ngủ vẫn chưa yên tĩnh. Tâm hồn vẫn chưa lắng đọng. Cõi lòng vẫn chưa thanh tịnh.

Xuân năm nay lần đầu tiên vắng mẹ và những mùa xuân trong tương lai vẫn không có mẹ. Xuân tha hương đã quá buồn tẻ rồi. Giờ không còn mẹ mùa Xuân còn ý nghĩa gì nữa. Lúc trước chỉ cần gọi điện chúc Tết mẹ, được nghe tiếng của mẹ, hoặc được ở bên cạnh mẹ là đủ để có được mùa xuân trong con. Giờ đây mỗi mùa xuân về, con càng nhớ đến mẹ. Vẫn có mẹ trong tim con.

Hôm qua đọc kinh “Sám Khấn Nguyện” thấy tâm hồn nhẹ nhàng và đầu óc bớt căng thẳng nên con đã copy lại. Hôm nào cảm thấy nặng trĩu sẽ lấy ra niệm:

Kính lạy mười phương Phật,
Kính lạy mười phương Pháp,
Kính lạy mười phương Tăng,
Xin chứng giám lòng con,
Với tất cả tâm thành,
Dâng lên lời khấn nguyện.

Xin cho con mãi mãi,
Lòng tôn kính vô biên,
Hơn núi biển mênh mông,
Dâng lên mười phương Phật.

Xin cho con mãi mãi,
Lòng thương yêu không cùng,
Trải thế giới tam thiên,
Đến chúng sanh vô tận.

Xin cho khắp muôn loài,
Sống yên lành bên nhau,
Không ganh ghét oán thù,
Không chiến tranh giết chóc.

Xin cho kẻ bất thiện,
Biết tin có luân hồi,
Có nghiệp báo trả vay,
Để hồi đầu hướng thiện.

Xin kẻ mù được sáng,
Kẻ điếc lại được nghe,
Kẻ nghèo được ấm no,
Kẻ ốm đau bình phục.

Xin cho loài cầm thú,
Thoát được nghiệp ngu si,
Tái sinh vào cõi người,
Biết tu theo Phật Pháp.

Các vong linh vất vưởng,
Trong cõi giới u huyền,
Thoát nghiệp đói triển miên,
Quy y và siêu thoát.

Xin cho nơi địa ngục,
Chúng sinh đang đọa đày,
Khởi được tâm từ bi,
Để xa lìa cảnh khổ.

Cho chúng con mãi mãi,
Cúi xin mười phương Phật,
Chư Bồ Tát Thánh Hiền,
Đem chánh pháp thiêng liêng,
Sáng soi nghìn thế giới.

Dù sinh về nơi đâu,
Đều gặp pháp nhiệm mầu,
Để nương theo tu tập.

Cho con biết khiêm hạ,
Biết tôn trọng mọi người,
Tự thấy mình nhỏ thôi,
Việc tu còn kém cỏi.

Cho tay con rộng mở,
Biết san sẻ cúng dường,
Biết giúp đỡ yêu thương,
Đến những người khốn khó.

Xin cho con bình thản,
Chỉ lặng lẽ dùng lời,
Trước nghịch cảnh cuộc đời,
Dù bị mắng bằng lời,
Hay bằng điều mưu hại.

Xin tâm con sung sướng,
Khi thấy người thành công,
Hoặc gây tạo phước lành,
Như chính con làm được.

Cho con biết im lặng,
Không nói lỗi của người,
Cầu cho người hết lỗi.

Xin vòng dây tham ái,
Rời khỏi cuộc đời con,
Để cho trái tim con,
Biết yêu thương tất cả.

Cúi lạy mười phương Phật,
Đau khổ đã nhiều rồi,
Vô lượng kiếp luân hồi,
Đắng cay và mỏi mệt.

Nay con dâng lời nguyện,
Giải thoát, quyết tìm về,
Giác ngộ, quyết lìa mê,
Độ sinh đến ơn Phật.

Xin cho con giữ vững,
Được chí nguyện tu hành,
Không một phút buông lơi,
Không một giờ xao lãng.

Xin vẹn toàn giới hạnh,
Với thiền định lắng sâu,
Với trí tuệ nhiệm mầu,
Xóa tan dần chấp ngã.

Xin cho con tỉnh táo,
Không kiểu mạn tự hào,
Dù tu tiến đến đâu,
Vẫn tự tìm chỗ dở.

Nguyện cho con đi mãi,
Không đứng lại giữa đường,
Đến tuyệt đối vô biên,
Tâm đồng tâm Chư Phật.

Rồi trong muôn vạn nẻo,
Cửa sinh tử luân hồi,
Con mãi mãi không thôi,
Độ sinh không dừng nghỉ.

Cúi lạy mười phương Phật,
Xin chứng giám lòng con,
Lời khấn nguyện sắt son,
Dâng lên ngôi Tam Bảo.

Nam Mô Bổn Sư Thích Ca Mâu Ni Phật
Nam Mô Bổn Sư Thích Ca Mâu Ni Phật
Nam Mô Bổn Sư Thích Ca Mâu Ni Phật

Last Friday, we rolled out yet another redesign for Scalia Law School website. This is our third redesign in the past couple of months. Our new dean did not like the previous turquoise color as an overall theme; therefore, we added a gray background to our top head just so we can use white and a bit of gold on our logo.

We made the homepage banners bigger and their new purpose is to attract prospective students. We went a bit crazy with the banners in the previous design. We kept getting requests for new banners for stories that didn’t even warrant to be on our homepage.

We switched from Myriad Pro to Minion 3, both designed by Robert Slimbach, for our headers. Minion 3 Display provides a more contrast to Pelago, also designed by Slimbach.

We brought back the action buttons: visit, request information, and apply. We highlighted our programs: Flex JD, JD, LLM, JM. We expanded our spotlights to showcase our diverse community. We made news and events less dominating.

Basically, we had gone back to where we were before we hired a consultant to change up our homepage. The consultant and our director of communications wanted banners and news on our homepage to take our visitors directly to somewhere else instead of drawing them into our site. These links often take visitors to news outlets that hit the paywalls. As a result, our readers couldn’t read the content. I am glad we’re making the news less prominent on our homepage.

The work hasn’t been done. We still have some tweakings to do. The site has grown so much since I took the reins almost a decade ago. The design had stood the time. I still maintain the main CSS, but we sprinkled inline styles here and there over the years. It is still manageable. I just need to go through and see if they are visually compatible with the new theme. Our next step is to bring more colors to the pages. We’ve gone from too-much colors to neutral gray to back to colors again. I am not complaining as long as I get pay to do.

Cuối tháng 12 năm ngoái, Nguyễn Đặng Việt Anh, một người bạn trẻ đa tài trong ngành UX (trải nghiệm người dùng), ngỏ ý tặng tôi bộ board game “Chọi Chữ” bạn đã sáng chế. Việt Anh muốn bày tỏ sự cảm ơn của bạn ấy với tôi về dự án Vietnamese Typography. Việt Anh chia sẻ:

Mình rất respect quyển sách Vietnamese Typography của bạn. Không những là vì nội dung rất hay mà còn vì quyết định của bạn chia sẻ miễn phí trên mạng, tạo ra impacts lớn đến những người muốn hỗ trợ tiếng Việt. Xin cám ơn bạn.

Tôi rất vui khi đọc những lời của bạn. Hãnh diện hơn là bạn đã lấy nguồn cảm hứng từ quyển sách của tôi tạo ra bộ game “Chọi Chữ” để phổ biến chữ Việt của chúng ta ra thế giới. Dĩ nhiên tôi nhận ngay món quà đặc biệt này của bạn.

Món quà đã được gửi đến hơn một tháng rồi mà tôi vẫn chưa có cơ hội để chơi thử. Hôm qua mở ra đọc hướng dẫn và chơi thử thấy cũng thú vị. Thiết kế đẹp và cứng cáp. Cách chơi cũng đơn giản nhưng hữu ích trong việc học tiếng Việt. Hôm nào lôi mấy con ra chơi thử. Hoặc khi nào rảnh dụ vợ ra chọi chữ. Ai thua thì lột.

Nếu ai hứng thú muốn mua bộ game này, hãy vào trang Na Board Game đặt hàng nhé.

My dearest Đạo,

When you and your brothers were downstairs having breakfast, your mom was still tired; therefore, she was still in bed. I came in to check on her. I lay down next to her and we had a mundane conversation about ice skating. You came in with a smile on your face and asked what we were doing. I told you that we were just talking and you went back downstairs.

Later in the evening, as we were ready to go to bed, you asked me again, “Seriously, what were you and mom doing this morning?” I replied, “We were just talking. What do you think we were doing?” As if you had waited for me to ask you that question, you immediate responded, “You guys were having sex.” I was a bit surprised and curious, so I asked you, “What do you know about having sex?” You replied, “Something really gross.”

My twelve-year-old son who doesn’t even care what clothes to wear is being aware of sex. I am glad you’re curious, but I am not sure where get the notion that sex is gross. We will work on that as well. Although I am comfortable talking about sex, I am struggling with it myself. Maybe we can learn from each other. So if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. I am here to listen and I can provide you what I know from my own experience.

To me, the physical connection is as important as the mental connection. Sex without the real connection is not sex—it’s porn. If you have sex with someone you truly love, you will enjoy it much more. You no longer feel the fears, the shames, the guilts, and the sins. You don’t have to sneak around. You don’t have to be concerned about unwanted pregnancy. You don’t have to worry about sexual transmitted diseases. You don’t need to check out other people. Like Method Man said, “No need to shop around, you got the good stuff at home.” To get to that point, you will need to wait until you are mature enough and ready to make the commitment to who you truly love.

Having said all of that, not everyone feels the same way about sex. It is hard when you and your partner aren’t on the same page on sex. It could be done, but you really have to work it out. How do you know if you and your partner are on the same level or not? Before you decide to make the next big step together, test it out. Give it a try or several tries and you need to be completely honest with each other. Do you enjoy it or not? Set your expectations if you want it or not. If you don’t do this from the beginning, you will be regretting it or miserable on the rest of your journey together. You might even end up in a divorce.

That’s far down the road. For now, if you have any question about sex, I am here for you.

Love,

Dad

I exploded on one of my cousins on Facebook. She’s one of those idiot Trump supporters who kept posting dumb shits on her timeline. I usually ignored her posts, but yesterday I simply could not. Since she could not think on her own, she “borrowed” this “powerful message” from someone else:

I never thought I’d see a day when so many people were so afraid of dying that they willingly quit living.

I just couldn’t stand this stupidity and ignorance. My mom/her aunt died of COVID-19. Her own brother feared for his life when he got really sick from COVID-19 and she mocked people for being afraid of dying. I responded:

Sure, go out, live your life, and get sick. That is some dumb, ignorant shit.

My original comment was “get COVID-19” instead of “get sick,” but Facebook blocked it. It detected I was posting misinformation and encouraging people to get COVID.

A white man goes by the name Willie Hinz responded to my comment:

You are the living proof of the statement above. And by looking at your face. You are the one that have shitty ass looking face.

WTF? Is this a beauty pageant? I found a dude commenting on another dude appearance to be hilarious and frankly stupid so I played along. I replied to him:

Thank you for taking your time to click on my face, look at my face, and then attack my appearance. From a fellow to a fellow, I am flattered that you go after my look. I wonder why my cousin has become so ignorant. Just look at the people she’s palling around with.

He replied:

Once again you confirm what You Are! She is my cousin too!

What? My cousin has a white cousin? This is something new to me. I responded with sarcasm:

It’s all good, my man. Sorry, I didn’t know you were her cousin as well. I guess she abandoned her blood cousin for a white cousin. You sure are a better-looking cousin than I am.

My cousin chimed in to defend her fake-ass cousin, which I didn’t really care for. She accused me of trying to play colors. She even quoted Martin Luther King, Jr.:

I look to a day when people will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.

How ironic is that most of her posts were about hating on Black Lives Matter and she uses Martin Luther King, Jr.’s word to defend her white friend. She bragged that her friend is an immigrant who made a success for himself. I am glad that her friend is successful. Everyone can be successful in America if they are willing to work hard. She definitely needs to go back to study the history of the United States. This is a nation of immigrants. Even white people immigrated here.

I switched back to her ignorant post to point out that she “doesn’t give a fuck about any else but her-goddamn-self,” knowing her aunt died from COVID and her brother feared for his life from COVID. She asked me to “completely remove yourself from this post” because I was using “offensive language.” I complied. I cannot fix stupid. I wish her well. Go on, live her life, enjoy herself, and don’t get COVID. I unfriended her.

Last year when the general election was tearing apart families, I tried my hardest to ignore Trump supporters and COVID deniers, especially from family members, friends, and the Vietnamese community. I didn’t want to get into fights with family members and friends over these issues. After my mom died of COVID, however, I don’t give a fuck anymore even if they are family members. I don’t need those kinds of relationships in my life.

Dr. Joy Garcia Tiên, my life-long mentor, asked me to take her back to my middle-school journey. She also wanted to know what divided us and what held us together. To answer her questions, I wanted to go all the way back to my first experience living in America.

I started sixth grade at Lafayette Elementary School with limited English. I spent half a day in my regular classroom not understanding what my teacher and my classmates said. I felt out of place. Fortunately, the ESL (English as Second Language) classroom was my comfort zone. All of the ESL students shared a similar circumstance and our goal was to improve our English. Our ESL teachers, Mrs. Susan Hurlburt and Mrs. Sue Kresge, had done an excellent job of making us feel comfortable and welcoming. They not only taught us English, but also helped us to adjust to our new lives in America. They were more than our teachers. They were our guardians.

I went on to Reynolds Middle School in seventh grade and faced different challenges. Reynolds had a diverse student body including Black, Hispanic, White, and Asian. English remained an issue for me and I still attended ESL classes, but only forty-five minutes a day instead of half of a day. Asians, Vietnamese immigrants in particular, were the minority. It was the first time in America that I experienced bullying, and race played a part of it. I was called “Ching Chong,” “Slanted Eyes,” or “Chink” on a daily basis even though I am not even Chinese. I did not know much English, but I recognized the racial slurs. I got into fights to defend myself. My grades dropped tremendously after a suspension for getting punched in class. I was miserable and didn’t feel like getting up in the morning to go to school. I realized that the students were divided into their own ethnicities and the majorities had more power over the minorities. I kept my head low and focused on my academics.

In eighth grade, I joined the Upward Bound program. I still can’t recall how I signed up or how I heard about it, but the pre-college program changed my educational life. My experience at the Upward Bound summer program was completely different from my regular school year. The program was also made up of a diverse group of students from different backgrounds, cultures, schools, and cities, but I did not experience any bullying or racism. In the summers, I was able to hang out with our little Vietnamese group as well as expanded into the larger groups. I did not know how Ms. Doris Cross, Dr. Joy Garcia Tiên, and the entire Upward Bound staff made it possible, but I was grateful for the individual-yet-inclusive experience. Black kids blasted hip-hop in their rooms; Hispanic kids blasted their salsa in their rooms; White kids blasted their heavy metal in their rooms; we blasted Vietnamese ballads in our rooms. No one complained until curfew time. Before wrapping up each summer program, we put on cultural shows and performances to celebrate our differences.

In retrospect, what united students in the Upward Bound program were our goals and our circumstances. Although our skins, cultures, and ethnicities were different, we were from low-income, underprivileged families. While other kids enjoyed their long summer vacations, we chose to attend summer classes and to challenge ourselves with pre-college courses taught by college professors. We were committed to make a better future for ourselves. We spent the summer living, studying, eating, and hanging out together; therefore, we embraced and respected our differences. Once we found our common ground and goal, we lifted each other up instead of tearing each other apart. As a result, I had found a special bond with my Upward Bound colleagues from my middle and throughout high school years.

I would love to hear from other Upward Bound alums on their perspectives and experiences. I also would love to hear from other Vietnamese Americans, particularly how they dealt with racism or bullying in middle school. Even today, I still wonder about that period of my life. Were kids at that age understand racism? Was I targeted because of my lack of English? Was I picked on because I did not fit in? Now as a father, I do not wish to see my kids go through what I had been through, but these experiences had shaped me and made me more resilience. I did not succumb to negativity. I found support elsewhere and appreciated those who were there for me, believed in me, and gave me the opportunities.