The World Health Organization warned against calling COVID-19 as the “Chinese virus” or the “Wuhan virus.” Yet the ignorant president stokes xenophobia in a time of global pandemic. He and his supporters claim it is nothing wrong with calling the virus where it came from. The example they used is the “Spanish Flu,” which originated from Spain.

They are dead wrong. The flu did not come from Spain. It started in Kansas. The official name is H1N1 not the “Spanish Flu.” Spain was the only country that reported honestly on the pandemic. As for Ebola, scientists pushed back from calling it “Yambuku,” which was the name of the village where the disease first started. Influenza first appeared in North America and we didn’t call it the “North America Flu.”

In a time of worldwide crisis, we must unite and fight against the virus—not against each other. The president knew he mismanaged the pandemic; therefore, he tried to put the blame on someone else and he didn’t care if it had a dangerous impact on the Asian-American community. Hate crimes had risen in New York City against Asian Americans. Over 1,000 cases of xenophobia toward Chinese Americans reported between January 28 and February 24. Between 50 to 70 percent of Chinese-American businesses had been lost.

What I am ashamed of the most is the piling up from the Vietnamese-American community, particularly supporters of the president’s racist remark, referring to the coronavirus as the “Chinese virus” or the “Wuhan virus.” How can we do this to our own Asian-American community? Let’s face it. Most Americans can’t tell the difference between Cambodian, Chinese, Japanese, Laos, Korean, and Vietnamese; therefore, you are not shielded from being targeted with your Asian face. In middle school, I had been called “Ching Chong,” “Chink,” “Dog Eater,” “Gook,” “Slanted Eye,” and any racist remarks against Chinese Americans. I hope that our kids won’t have to go through what I had experienced. My ten-year-old son told me that he and his close friends stood up for their Chinese friend when kids singled him out because of the coronavirus. I was so proud of him and his friends. I urge you to think about your kids too when you make a racist reference and call the “Chinese virus” or the “Wuhan virus.”

We stood with the LGBTQ community when they were being discrimated in the AIDS epidemic. We stood with the Muslim-American community after September 11. Now it is time to stand with the Asian-American community. If you have experienced anti-Asian hate crimes in the wake of COVID-19, please report your incident at the Asian Pacific Policy and Planning Council website.

We made it through a week of working, parenting, and quarantining. The global pandemic is spreading wider and closer by the hours. A student who attended classes at George Mason University’s Arlington campus, which was where I worked up to last week, has tested positive for the Coronavirus. I did not interact with any student; therefore, I don’t think I am compromised.

Home is now the center of our lives. My bedroom has become a place for me to work and sleep. Yesterday, we interviewed two candidates for the digital marketing specialist position through Webex. The interviews went well and the kids didn’t interrupt me. We have four more candidates to go through. I was hoping to get someone with some HTML and CSS knowledge since the new person will be working closely with us, but the hiring committee had tossed out my technical questions. Other than the interviews, remote working was business as usual. I still had projects to work on and things to take off as we are still dealing with the pandemic.

Đạo and Đán are getting into their routines. I set up a laptop for each of them to do their school work online. Thanks to Đán’s teacher for sending us a dozen emails a day, we are keeping him busy. He set up a Google Classroom, assigned books on myON, and came up with quizzes for them to do. He always made sure to let us know that these activities were only optional. He also recommended “Lunch Doodles with Mo Willems” for the kids to draw.

Đạo’s teachers only sent one email and their guidance was loose; therefore, we gave him less instructions. I encourage him to read books and write journals. He could write anything he wanted. He can write about how he created his new LEGO tank. He can write about his day. I would love to read his feelings about his life as well as his parents. He can write honestly about us. I showed him my blog, in which I write about them and my own life.

Đán asked me if he could use curse words in his journals like I did in my blog. Of course he could if those words helped him express his feelings. The other day he whispered in my ears the words dick and bitch. I asked him where he learned them from. He hesitated to tell me at first, but I made sure that he won’t get in trouble if he told me. Of course, they came from his friends. Because he knew those two words, I had to explain to him how to use them and the consequences of using them. For example, bitch is a derogatory word for girl; therefore, he will get in trouble for using it in that context. Since I can’t control my kids from being exposed to new words, I hope I can guide them in using them appropriately.

Unfortunately, Xuân held on the the word stupid and wouldn’t let it go. He still used it when he was joking as well as when he was mad. He even got his three-year-old cousin started saying it. Listening to the two of them arguing was hilarious. When they ran out of words, they just blew spits (not spitting on) at each other.

Staying home with Xuân is a bit of a challenge. He is going through the rebellious stage. He is loud and expressive. We had to find activities for him to keep himself busy like painting and drawing. He liked to dance to Vietnamese pop tunes so that helped as well. If everything else failed, we used our last resort: the iPad.

Vương had been the most difficult because he constantly wanted his mom to breastfeed him. He also liked to go outside and enjoyed a bike ride. After work, I took them out for a bike ride around George Mason main campus and let them play outside for a bit. I filmed a short clip of them rolling among themselves off the hill and posted on Facebook. My mom called and advised me not to let them do that. They might catch the Coronavirus from the grass. OK, mom.

The hardest thing for me working from home was the food distraction. I kept checking the fridge compulsively like a crack fiend even though I knew everything in there was for my kids. Another string cheese? Why not. On the table next to the fridge, a bottle of vodka and a bottle of tequila stared at me, but no thanks. I had maxed out my limit, thanks to my wife’s delicious phở. I do not want another gout attack.

My wife had the hardest job so far between working, cooking, and feeding Vương. It is understandable that she could get a bit grumpy. Last night, Đán asked me, “How can you and mommy date each other when you don’t even love each other?” I asked him, “What made you say that?” He replied, “She keeps yelling at you.” I explained to him that this is a stressful time for us, and especially for her. Even though I tried to help out, it was not enough. I recognized My shortcomings. You can help us out by simply being a good son and brother. We will make it through this tough time together. Just hang in here, son.

Molly wrote:

Now for some frank words. Alcoholism Donny is not about how much people drink—it’s about the need to drink. Don’t follow suit, and if it’s hard, think about getting some help. I have been concerned about you for some time, and haven’t said anything because well it’s none of my business, except it is my business because I care about you and you’re my friend. What has raised the alarm for me over the past year is how much you write about drinking… I don’t know if you’re conscious of how often you think and talk about it. I’m old enough to have seen many loved ones struggle with this terrible disease, and very few of them ever recovered. So I’m sending good ju-ju your way asking you to take stock, and think carefully about not just how much or how little you drink, but your desire to drink, which is a complicated mix of genetics and other factors. But it is closely related to depression, and it is a kind of self medication with poison. Don’t be afraid to talk to your doctor about this frankly; there may be help for you that you are not aware of in the form of medication or therapy or groups that can help you. Don’t wait until it is a crisis. Do this for your loved ones—especially your wife and your boys. I hope you take this is the spirit of love in which I offer it.

I responded:

I appreciate your concern and frank words for me. I like to drink and write about it, but I don’t drink everyday. Every alcoholic would say that he doesn’t have a problem, but even if I wanted to drink I can’t because I have gout. A gout attack could last a week or two and each attack was so painful that I wished I didn’t drink at all. Even when I was having a drink or two, I had to think of the consequence of a flare up afterwards. As bad as it might sound, but having gout is a curse and a blessing. It kept my alcoholism in check. In addition, my wife wouldn’t tolerate my drunkenness. I also understood my responsibility as a father although a drink could take the edge of parenting at times. I am glad you pointed it out though.

Bộ sưu tập đoản văn ngắn. Mỗi bài trung bình hai trang viết về những kỷ niệm nhỏ nhoi ở quê như cỏ, cá kho, hoặc hoa cau. Ông viết về nghỉ hè:

Tôi ngả mình trên nội cỏ. Bầu trời bỗng vụt cao lồng lộng và tôi bỗng cảm thấy bé nhỏ nhưng thanh thản như một đứa trẻ với kỳ nghỉ hè của chính mình.

Những bài viết nhẹ nhàng và đơn giản nhưng vì quá ngắn nên khi đọc bị gián đoạn, rời rạc, và không đủ thu hút.

Before blaming President Obama, let me remind you that the Obama Administration kept us safe from three epidemics: H1N1 swine flu, Ebola, and Zika.

After the 2014 Ebola outbreak, President Obama created the White House’s National Security Council Directorate for Global Health Security and Biodefense to prepare for the next epidemic and to prevent the next global pandemic. When you took office in 2017, you were warned about the outbreak of H9N2 influenza. Nevertheless, you and your administration dissolved the office that would keep us safe. Now we are paying the price for your incompetent.

Even COVID-19 was not preventable, it was predictable. If President Obama were still in office, we wouldn’t be in such a dire situation like we are in now. So stop pointing the finger and take responsibility for your own fuck-ups.

Đáng lý ra tôi không nên tham gia vào những lời bình luận trên Facebook nhưng không thể kiềm chế. Sau đây là đối thoại với một người bạn sống ở Việt Nam.

NMK viết:

Ngoài trừ Ronald Reagan, thì đây là vị Tổng Thống Mỹ mà làm mình phấn khích nhất. Gọi tên cho đúng cái đã: wuhancoronavirus hoặc chinesevirus cho thuận mồm.

Tôi trả lời:

Cám ơn những lời khuyến khích của ông nên người Á châu ở Mỹ (không chỉ người Tàu và luôn cả người Việt) bị kỳ thị, chửi rủa, và đánh đập dã man.

NMK:

Thứ nhất, chẳng có gì sai trái khi gọi tên đúng với xuất xứ của nó. Về việc đặt tên khoa học, có nhiều loài còn được đặt tên theo nơi nó được phát hiện. Với thói mất dạy của Trung Quốc như mọi khi thì vừa phục hồi lại sau trận đại dịch đã quay trở lại là loài lòng lang dạ sói như mọi khi khi cố tính đánh lạc hướng dư luận. Còn về việc phân biệt đối xử, kỳ thị thì chẳng riêng gì Mỹ, mà còn ở châu Âu. Việc kỳ thị xảy ra có thể do quá khứ phân biệt chủng tộc, nhưng nguyên nhân của yếu bởi lối sống, lối suy nghĩ kỳ cục, lười biếng của đa số người Việt bên đó. Dĩ nhiên việc họ đánh đồng là không đúng vì vẫn có nhiều người Việt trở thành anh hùng của nước Mỹ, hay vẫn đóng góp cho xã hội Mỹ. Nếu đổi lại là mình, nhà mình bị người khác vô ở, làm thì ít mà phá thì nhiều liệu mình có ác cảm hay không. Là em, dĩ nhiên là có. Bất cứ ai, tá túc trên nhà mình, vô văn hoá, thiếu đạo đức em đều chẳng coi ra gì, bất kể người Mỹ hay Tây ở VN.

Tôi:

Là một nhà lãnh đạo nhất là trong lúc trầm trọng như bây giờ cần phải kêu gọi đoàn kết và lên án phản đối những sự kiện kỳ thị vô cớ chứ không nên châm dầu vào lửa.

Anh hiểu được tâm trạng của em nhưng anh không đồng ý với lý luận của em cho là người Việt mình bị phân biệt chủng tộc bởi họ sống lười biếng ở đây. Trái lại theo chính anh thấy đa số người Việt mình sống rất siêng năng cho dù làm nail hay bác sĩ. Tuy nhiên mỗi người có lối suy nghĩ khác nhau.

Anh càng không đồng ý với em về vấn đề “nhà mình.” Từ lúc lập thành đất nước, Mỹ là do dân tị nạn gây dựng. Dù đến trước mấy trăm năm hay đến sau, tất cả đều như nhau cả. Chỉ khác là đến bến tự do với mục đích gì và có cống hiến cho nước này hay không.

Cho dù không đồng ý nhưng anh vẫn tôn trọng lối suy nghĩ của em.

NMK:

Dĩ nhiên lối suy nghĩ của em thì anh không thể hiểu, vì anh không sống dùm cuộc sống của em ở đây và ngược lại, em không sống dùm cuộc sống của anh ở Mỹ. Mỗi người nhìn một quyết định theo hướng khác, vì mỗi người mong muốn một điều khác. Nước Mỹ là Hợp Chủng Quốc thì việc phân biệt chủng tộc lại là điều càng không thể tránh khỏi. Cuộc đời đôi khi không phải cứ màu trắng thì sẽ là màu trắng.

Holy fuck, Marc Maron ends his new Netflix Special with a satirical blasphemy that involved Mike Pence and Jesus Christ. I don’t want to give anything away, but he sure as hell lights a fire under the evangelical asses. From vitamin to woke to technology to anti-vaccine, Maron’s humors are dark, ruthless, and brilliant. I had been mind-fucked for an hour.

What a weird coincidence that I was reading a book titled How We Fight For Our Lives in the midst of a pandemic. Although Jones’s memoir has nothing to do with the danger of the Coronavirus, it has everything to do with the danger of being a gay black boy growing up in Texas. Jones writes:

Being black can get you killed.
Being gay can get you killed.
Being a black gay boy is a death wish.

With his lyrical prose and unflinching honesty, Jones opened up about his body and sexuality. His raw, explicit, violent writing is tough to read, and yet even tougher to stop reading. He confessed:

At times, I was proud of my sluttiness. I liked to think that it was radical, as if the act of fucking another man and then bragging to my friends about it was a form of protest against the shame I’d grown up with, and against the shame I felt silently radiating from the new people in my life.

In addition to his wild sexual lifestyle, Jones writes candidly about his relationship with his mother who raised him herself. She refused to talk about his sexual identity, but she accepted it and supported him. With just 190 pages, Jones managed to write a memoir that is so ferocious, so beautiful, and so damn heartbreaking.

We’re living in a strange, scary time. Today, the weather is beautiful, and yet we are stuck at home. We are still navigating and juggling between working and taking care of our four kids. I don’t know how we will survive for a month or longer, but we have to.

Yesterday I took off work to give my wife the time she needed to put in her “Count Monday.” I did the best I could, but I was exhausted. When I had to take care of the kids by myself, I took them out. Time went by faster when we had fun places to go and good restaurants to eat for me to have a drink or two. As long as we could find those two activities, I could babysit them all day long.

Being trapped at home was a challenge, especially with no iPad allowed on weekdays. Luckily we had my mother-in-law helping us out. Without her, I don’t know how we could do it. With her tremendous help, we managed to get by. Đạo and Đán played with each other. I accompanied Xuân. Vương was naturally attached to his mother, but my mother-in-law tried to keep him away from her while she was working.

Today I set up my home office, which consisted of an iron board to place my MacBook Pro and a stool for me to sit, right inside my bedroom. I usually woke up at five in the morning to read or to write, but I started working this morning instead. I wanted to get as much work done as I could before the kids got up. Around eight, Xuân came over as usual when grandma woke up. I closed my laptop and snuggled with him. I held him in my arms and fell back to sleep. Around nine, everyone was up. I brushed my teeth as well as Xuân’s and Vương’s. I went downstairs and enjoyed eggs and bread prepared by my personal favorite chef Đán. I sipped some Trung Nguyên instant coffee and headed back to my fancy office.

My wife’s office is in the lounging room, which has a glass door to the deck. While working, she had to come up with fun, creative activities for the kids to do in the backyard. They took out recycle boxes and cans and whacked them with a baseball bat. Somehow they found the physical act satisfying. I took a break and kept an eye on them just to make sure they didn’t whack each other’s on the head by accident. I also made sure that they picked up everything and put them back into the recycle bin.

Around noon, I got hungry and grabbed something from the fridge to eat. My wife prepared lunch for the kids while I fed Vương. As the older boys were having their lunch, she put Vương down for a nap. Witnessing my wife working and taking care of the kids, I have greater respect and deeper appreciation for her role. Unlike my job, her job is based on performance and production; therefore, she can’t cheat her way out of it. Even though she changed to part-time after her last maternity leave, she had to put in the time in order to meet her production. Many late nights, she went downstairs to work while Vương was sleeping. Her love and sacrifice for our family are unmeasurable.

As for Đạo’s and Đán’s continuing home schooling, we haven’t figured out the routine yet. One of Đán’s teachers has been sending us like 20 emails a day. I simply could not keep up with them all. Xuân’s educators are sending us daily activities with videos, but we’re just going with the flow. My only encouragement is read, read, and read. Đạo and Đán have plenty of books I checked out from the libraries to keep them busy if they wanted to. We still have a whole month to figure things out.

Last Friday, I sat down with Xuân’s teachers for a brief parent-educator conference. They reported that Xuân was friendly, communicative, and energetic. He participated in more group activities than before. He shared his ideas and enjoyed meeting time with his friends. He cooperated and helped his classmates and teachers.

He preferred the manipulative and construction areas where he can express his creativity. He spent a long time at the book area reading picture books and telling his friends stories based on the illustrations. Lately, he had been interested in the art and dramatic play areas where he got to explore his crafts.

Areas they were working with him including improving personal boundaries, solving problems on his own, and focusing on some activities. He got distracted easily.

Overall, Xuân was doing well. He seemed to find his groove. In the beginning of the school year, the educators’ constant turnover had a huge impact on the kids. Xuân didn’t want to go to the daycare. Everyday he told me he hated school. When I dropped him off, he wouldn’t let me go. The teachers seemed to be staying, the class had settled down. He told me he loved going to school now and he would say goodbye during drop off.

One of Xuân’s skills his teachers appreciated was his expressive communication. He told them exactly how he felt and what happened when he and his classmates got into conflicts. Xuân had good ears for words. For example, he had been telling me, “Daddy, I want to ride my bike without the stabilizers.” I responded with a surprised, “Stabilizers? Do you mean training wheels? Where did you learn that word?” He smiled and replied, “Yes and I learned it from Peppa Pig.”

From Đạo to Đán to Xuân, what I have learned was that communication is such an essential skill for kids. Most problems can be solved through communication. His mom and I weren’t worried too much about Xuân because he told you exactly what was on his mind. Everyday when I took him to daycare and parked my car outside the gym, he said to me, “Daddy, you need to get some exercise. You’re too fat.” I always laughed and responded, “Thank you for telling me the truth. I will take your honest criticism seriously. You are my motivation and I will drag myself to the gym when I get the opportunity.” I was not sure if he understood everything, but I tried to use my best vocabulary in my sentences for him to pick up. He simply replied, “You’re very welcome.” I am so proud of our Xuânshine.