AAYA!

Events

2010-02-16T23:18:00.001-05:00

Chinatown Youth Initiatives is now hiring summer staff!

CYI is currently in search of candidates to fill the following positions:

Coordinator, Facilitator and Participant Outreach Committee Member

All positions are unpaid, but CYI is more than willing to work with colleges so that summer staff can receive internship and/or school credits.

All applications must be received by 11:59pm EST on Sunday, February 21st, 2010, via email to apply@cyinyc.org.

Summer Leadership Institute Program Description:

Please distribute widely.

If you are:
• Passionate about issues that face Chinatown, Asian Americans, and other underrepresented communities.
• Dedicated to raising awareness and inspiring discussion around what you are passionate about.
Then you have what it takes to be part of the staff at our Summer Leadership Institute (SLI).

This summer, be a different kind of leader…
One who can inspire high school youth to become, not just the leaders of tomorrow, but the leaders of today!

1) COORDINATOR (1 POSITION)

Works with Senior Coordinator: To oversee all aspects of program administration for the Summer Leadership Institute, keep track of budget and program expenses, provide training to facilitation team, as well as develop curricula for and facilitate youth workshops during SLI around sociopolitical issues.
2) FACILITATORS (UP TO 4 POSITIONS)
Works with other facilitators and coordinators: To develop curricula for and facilitate youth workshops around sociopolitical issues, organize informal hangouts for assigned small group.
3) PARTICIPANT OUTREACH COMMITTEE MEMBERS (UP TO 8 POSITIONS)
Works with other committee members: To spearhead outreach efforts to diversify and maximize number of applicants for SLI, assist coordinators in creating and distributing participant applications, research opportunities to increase program visibility.

The summer program of CYI, called the Summer Leadership Institute (SLI), consists of a series of weekly workshops, in which high school youth engage in exploratory activities and discussions. These workshops, typically run by college students, aim to facilitate identity and leadership development, as well as to enhance awareness of issues affecting underrepresented communities. Please visit our website at www.cyinyc.org for more information.

All positions are unpaid, but CYI is more than willing to work with colleges so that summer staff can receive internship and/or school credits.

For further inquiries, please contact Dan Ping He at danping@cyinyc.org

All applications must be received by 11:59pm EST on Sunday, February 21st, 2010, via email to apply@cyinyc.org.

For applications, click here!

Based on a True Story.

2010-01-03T19:32:00.009-05:00

By Melanie Gao

The bus rumbled and moved forward, stopped and started again. Green lights turned red and red again turned green. Cars honked and people talked. People walked past me, people stood in front of me. I bet all that happened, but I am not so sure. I was too busy in a faraway place—somewhere in Scotland, to be exact—learning the spells and magic of the wizard world and happily stalking the lives of a Harry Potter, a Hermione Granger, and a Ron Weasley, the campus celebrities.
Then I was interrupted—unceremoniously whisked away; out of my book and back into the dirty, Muggle bus. It was dark outside. I turned to my left, willing to Avada Kedavra the creature that got me kicked out from Hogwarts and back into the simple Muggle world. I saw an elderly woman, gray hair tied up in a messy bun, strands of white elegantly adorning a nest of grey. She seemed tired, wearing a red jacket and a brown scarf; I saw no wand, no indication of any extraordinary power—definitely a Muggle. She said something in a language I could not comprehend. I whispered back, “Pardon?” She spoke again, this time differently. This time I could hear her. I understood. “You can read that English book?” she asked in Mandarin.
I was surprised. I replied to her in the same language with a simple, “Yes”. She said I was so smart and hardworking to be reading on a bus. I did not think I deserved this compliment. My thoughts spilled out as I explained to her how I was rereading Harry Potter for the sixth time to avoid reading a required Shakespeare reading and how I probably deserve an award for being a slacker extraordinaire. She listened to me with my broken Chinese, and replied with a single phrase: “But you can read.” I did not know how to respond. As the bus turned, she began to speak. She talked about immigrating a few months ago with her husband. With a little over a thousand dollars in cash and limited English ability, she arrived with high hopes and expectations. She settled in NYC’s Chinatown. After a few weeks in the America she dreamed about, her hopes came spiraling down like a first year in flying class.
As we talked, I learned about her ambitions, her hopes, her losses and sacrifices. Through her, I learned not only perseverance, but also intimacies about Chinatown, the Chinatown culture, and the lives of Chinese immigrants than I knew before. She helped me realized how lucky I was to be reading my own copy of Harry Potter for the sixth time, and how lucky I was to have supportive family and friends willing to help me accomplish my goals. My bus friend told me she was proud of me, proud of a young Chinese girl with such a strong interest in science; she told me to cure cancer, to find a cure for her leg pain, to save lives and to even become the first female President. She encouraged me to work hard; I could do just as well and even better than any boy could. My new friend told me to do what I love, and to bring what I love to world. Her words inspired me. For the rest of the bus ride, I tried to teach her English as fast as I could—how to read certain words and how certain letters sound. I started straight from the beginning—Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Chapter One.

Privilege

2009-12-15T18:49:00.012-05:00

By Karen Zheng

I took the PSAT this year for the first time. When the test was finally over, the proctor asked us two yes or no “research” questions that would "not affect our scores". The first was if we used the “Official Student Guide to the PSAT/ NMSQT” booklet to prepare. I vaguely remember noticing a big pile of them outside of the guidance office, free for the taking, several weeks before the exam. I looked at the second question. It asked if one or both of our parents went to college. I bubbled in the negative for both of them.

The second question seemed like déjà vu to me, as it was one of the questions from SLI's Privilege Walk. If one or both of your parents went to college, you were to take a step or two forward. I ended up as almost the farthest back person in the walk, meaning that I was one of the most "stereotypically unprivileged" people in the room. It was a shock; I have always thought of myself as a privileged individual.

I thought about the questions asked. If you were a female, you were to take a step back. If you were under eighteen, you were to take a step back. If you were under sixteen, you were to take another step back. If you had to worry about citizenship, you were to take a step back. If you did not fully trust your parents with certain discussions, you were to take a step back. I did not understand how these questions could determine how fortunate someone is, because adult male citizens who have good salaries and good relationships with their families have problems just like everyone else. I initially thought the questions were unfair; if different questions were asked, I might be in the "privileged" group.

We then tried to define privilege as a group; I remember saying, “being born with things that others don't have.” Some people agreed with me, expressing their doubts of the walk as a good measure of privilege. Some said that it was pretty accurate, defining "privilege" as access to material goods (for example, if you have ever lived in public housing, you probably lived in poverty at some point, which puts you at a more unprivileged state than someone from the middle- or upper-class). Others said that privilege was self-gained, so everything that you are born with means nothing; only what you make happen for yourself counts. Still others narrowed this down by saying that only happiness should matter, and how happy you are equals how privileged you are. Although we could not come to a definite conclusion about privilege, we agreed that being "privileged" is to have everything that we need to survive and be content with life, and also to be a part of SLI and society's institutions.

I looked at the PSAT book before me. I wonder what “research” they will gather – will kids with highly educated parent(s) have generally higher grades than kids whose parent(s) did not attend college, or vice versa? Either scenario could happen, though there probably will be no correlation. In some cases, “uneducated” parents will want their children to be better than they are, and will push them harder than “educated” parents to excel in school to have better job opportunities in the future. In other cases, “uneducated” parents will use themselves as templates for their children – if they did not study much and are financially stable now, their children can do the same and focus on other activities, like working or sports. I think having parents who did not attend college is sort of a privilege; I am influenced to work harder so that I will not have as physically demanding jobs as they do. Other times, I wish my parents know what it is like to be in my shoes, so they would stop telling me to loosen up on extracurricular activities, or to sleep before midnight because it is "just one science test". Either way, I know I cannot affect my parents' past. My future should not be based on privileges that I may or may not have been lucky enough to have been born with.

2009-12-11T10:32:00.010-05:00

by Gavin Li

I'm Gavin Li and I'm proud to be an Asian American. Being in a multicultural environment, I am able to take some and give some different points of views in different cultures. I've had firsthand experience on the farms in China's countryside where my family comes from and it is completely different from places like New York City. Learning and growing in an environment where my parents did not forces me to be self aware and self dependent outside of home. WHATS YOUR STORY?!

A Walk in my Fil-Am Shoes

2009-12-05T09:59:00.004-05:00

by Marion Condeza

I was standing at the door of my grandparents’ home, basking under the blazing sun and taking deep, reflective breaths of the stagnant, humid air. I listened to palm trees swaying everywhere as the wind blew them and little, happy-go-lucky children running around in their ruffled school uniforms. It was my first trip to the Philippines in ten long years, and I really appreciated every detail. I let every moment sink in.

I turned back inside and saw my grandfather’s cousin with a wide genuine smile as she looked back at me. She gestured towards the amazing breakfast she had made just for me. She was so sweet and caring that almost I couldn’t believe it.

I didn’t know I had so many relatives. Plus, I was an important guest to all of them when we barely knew anything about each other. They had so little, but presented me with large home-cooked meals and gifts such as my grandfather’s precious, old songbook. I could tell they tried their hardest to please me.

It was an odd feeling to be so loved by these strangers. All the while, I was discovering that we shared a deeply remarkable ancestry— a past before my birth that my parents’ few stories barely touched upon. I found I had a family that was so huge it practically dominated my parents’ entire hometown. I felt a fervent place in my heart finally awakening, overtaken by immense acts of love I never asked for.

A lot of pride filled me through my visit to the Philippines. Nevertheless, something was wrong. Everywhere I went, I felt I didn’t quite fit in. Actually, it was quite obvious.

Entering a large gathering of Filipinos, I would get heads to turn as if everyone knew at that moment I walked by that I was from somewhere far from out of town. Tiny barefoot children in large hand-me-down dresses couldn’t stop staring at me—the tall girl with A&F shorts, big hoop earrings, and manicured nails. I felt so uncomfortable. And I couldn’t break the awkward silence of these brown-eyed youngsters.

As a matter of fact, there was no Filipino dialect I could have used to talk to anyone in. Every day, we visited new family members, and it was increasingly frustrating sitting around for hours— forced to listen to laughter and chatter I couldn’t understand. Upset and dying of boredom, I wondered, Why didn’t my parents teach me their dialect, Bisaya?! Even meeting my half-brother for the first time was extremely tongue-tied. He made the excuse that he was too shy, and whenever I tried speaking to him his difficult attempts to respond were half-hearted just because he thought his English wasn’t so great.

I was crestfallen at hearing how everyone assumed I was quiet and reserved. There was so much I wanted to talk to them about their lives, history, and culture! But if I simply ever asked, “What did he/she say,” or “What does that mean?” people were likely to ignore me or laugh. Was it because they couldn’t explain? Or because I would never understand? Obviously, there’s something that sets me too far apart from their culture.

I am Filipino. It’s funny how when asked my nationality, I reply immediately with that answer. If it was actually valid, my trip to the Philippines would have been much more easygoing and fulfilling. There is another half of my identity I need to acknowledge—and that is being American. As a Filipino-American, I am not only mixed with different cultures, but unique experiences, perspectives, and troubles.

One trouble that has come to my attention is that most first generation Filipino-Americans cannot speak their parents’ native tongue. Knowing I wasn’t alone as a child, I used to think that it was no big deal, English was enough. Then, I began to hear my Filipino friends gossiping. I sat by my aunts or uncles praying deep words I couldn’t understand. I noticed parents singing in Bisaya with our karaoke machine. As the days went by, especially after visiting the Philippines, I wished more and more that I wasn’t disconnected from their lively communication.

I regret not learning at an early age when it would’ve been easier, but I am sure I am not alone. What should be done for Filipino Americans and other Asian Americans else feeling shut off from so much of their own culture? Such miscommunication can really complicate self-identification and limit relations with other people. Please, don’t ever let it limit any of yours. There are many different languages and people in the world out there, but never let that stop you walking in another person’s shoes.

Thank you so much— for walking in mine.

John Liu: The Communist

2009-11-10T10:49:00.001-05:00

by Karen Zheng

I usually do not read the morning newspaper, but for some indiscernible reason, I accepted it on Thursday, September 10th. It was a special edition of The Epoch Times, and the front page headline read, “NYC Election Infiltrated by the Chinese Communist Party.” It was very anti-John Liu, who was running for New York City comptroller, the primary election being on September 15th.

I met John Liu at a SLI workshop in the summer, and I found him to be quite a likeable and influential Asian-American. He wants Asians to be more politically involved, and is an ideal example of “the American dream.” From the first page, however, I learned that he is backed by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), and has many connections to pro-Communist businesses and associations in the United States. The third page covered inconsistencies found in his campaign finance disclosures – he apparently accepted donations from contributors who were found to have missing required information, and several fundraisers in his name reported incorrect amounts of obtained campaign money. Page five pointed out examples of China's use of democratically elected officials overseas to “accomplish [its] goals, which is to be the most powerful nation on earth.” The paper also discussed John Liu's “shady aides and associates,” namely chief of staff John Choe – who supports communism and Kim Jong II – and former district administrator Ellen Young, who cheated Taiwanese immigrants out of lots of money. It ended with his indifference to hate crimes in Flushing, and the roles that his peers may have played in orchestrating some of them.

At first, I was pretty disturbed by John Liu's communist ties and untrustworthy connections; but I soon realized that the newspaper was evidently biased, and that no rational person would take it seriously. When I showed it to my friend who volunteered for him this past summer, she just laughed and told me that he is not a communist. I thought that calling him the “darling of the CCP-controlled media,” and a supporter of “the CCP's party line rather than democratic principles ... something that many New York voters likely do not wish to endorse,” bordered on ridiculous. I did not think that his campaign's financial discrepancies were a big deal, because I also would have taken anyone's money, even if they did not put their occupation or employer on the form. Comparing John Liu to corrupt politicians was unreasonable, since the writers did not talk about his suppressing democracy like the other politicians did. Lastly, I did not think that both sides of the hate crimes issue was covered, because he may have tried to do something about them but was unable to, or perhaps was advised not to for campaign reasons. I ultimately found that behind the paper's request for New Yorkers to not vote for John Liu, was an extremely hateful view of the CCP and the unjustified belief that John Liu is a representative of it.

John Liu won the comptroller position. His website is: http://www.liunewyork.com/

BRING IT

2009-11-04T22:16:00.009-05:00

by Sisi Huang

As soon as the video of the San Francisco bus fight reached the Internet, it immediately scored millions of views from people all across the country. Now for you hermits out there who have no idea what I’m referring to, I shall briefly recount the basics of the incident that has apparently captured the attention of millions.

It was a typical Thursday morning on a San Francisco public transit bus. Or so it seemed, until a small quarrel between a Chinese woman and an African-American woman boiled over into a physical battle of the fittest. According to the press, the Chinese woman had requested for the seat next to the African American woman but the latter adamantly refused. Consequently, the two began a shouting match that quickly escalated into threats of bodily harm. Meanwhile, a fascinated passenger recorded the entire scene for posterity with his cellphone camera. (Kudos to the man!)

Profanity was ever so prominent in this squabble. Unable to fully insult the other woman in English, the Chinese lady resorted to Chinese curses and exclamations while repeating the phrase: “You’re stupid!” The African American woman, on the other hand, fluently spewed strings of vulgar words at her target. As the mutual anger and detest accumulated, the latter woman suddenly punched the other in the face, thus beginning a physical struggle that shocked the rest of the passengers.

Before even attempting to somehow relate this incident to the issue of inter-racial relationships, I would first like to point out that it is basic human decency to move oneself out of the way when someone else is trying to sit, particularly since it is on a public bus that everyone has paid for to ride. Every individual is as rightfully entitled to a seat as the person standing next to him. The African American woman had no right to deprive the Chinese woman of the seat and definitely no justifiable reason for punching her in the face. Fist throws are trademarks of childish quarrels, of conflicts that seem too daunting to be solved properly by immature minds. It was utterly ridiculous for the woman to start a fight in public, especially since she was the one at fault.

On the other hand, many viewers would also argue that this incident was more the result of racial tensions than of a lack of etiquettes. Chinese Americans have long been looked down upon as crude people who spit on the sidewalks, who talk to each other from across the streets, who conversely loudly over the phone in public. However, many Chinese Americans have also felt that these stereotypes have unfairly justified the indifferent treatment of Chinese immigrants by American citizens. Since many of them are not able to speak English properly, some Americans have felt that it would be acceptable to hold themselves above the Chinese people. While reading the countless Youtube responses to the video, I have found one common theme among the words of the viewers: ethnic pride. Many Chinese viewers claimed that it served the African American woman right for trying to take advantage of the Chinese woman. They commended the latter for not only attempting to stand up for herself, but also for successfully humiliating the other woman in the process. Their words seemed to echo those of other Chinese passengers who were present on the bus, particularly those of one elderly man who continuously cried, “Beat her! Beat her till she’s dead!”

But whatever the implications of this incident may be, please be considerate of others’ needs the next time you take the bus. It will save you a lot of breath and unnecessary humiliation.

Rambling

2009-08-08T15:55:00.006-04:00

How much of the actions that we do everyday are influenced by our social group's attitudes? The other day as a male friend of mine wore a purse into the subway car, I noticed a group of men probably no older than 25 snickering. I overheard one of them say to another, "Hey did you just take off your glasses?" and then glance at my friend and the purse from time to time.

Far too often do people blind themselves to things they don't want to see: what they don't accept. Society forced its preconceptions of "acceptable" on others to the point of creating insecurities within individuals who "don't fit." However, times are changing; as remediation for a life of social instability and awkwardness, victims are now granted posthumous acceptance (such as in the case of Michael Jackson).

Is it enough? How many more martyrs do we need?

It's quite silly that our society's progression partly relies on its victimization.

We can easily blame the media, the government, everything and everyone but the victims. The greatest method to inspiring change should not be the death of the victims, but the strength of their voices. They may seem like idiosyncrasies now, but as long as they are not ignored, a time will come where they are "normal."

9500Liberty

2009-07-29T10:59:00.019-04:00

Directors Annabelle Park (National Coordinator of the 121 Coalition, an organization that helped pass the US House Resolution 121, the "comfort women" resolution) and Eric Byler (Charlotte Somtimes, Americanese) have been working on 9500 Liberty.

9500 Liberty is a full-length documentary about the battle over immigration policies in Prince William County, Virginia, when elected officials adopted a law requiring police officers to question anyone they have "probable cause" to suspect is an undocumented immigrant. The film is based on the Youtube channel 9500liberty, a form of resistance used by local residents alarmed by a climate of fear and racial divisions.

Even though we have an African American president and consider ourselves a diverse, welcoming nation, we still have a long way to go before racial tensions are eliminated. But I'm surprised that locals decided to use Youtube as a means of getting the word out and as a form of resistance.

"9500 Liberty makes it clear that when we as a nation of immigrants debate the immigration issue, we are defining our very identity" - John Grisham

The film is in post-production and will be available by September 2009. (I can't wait)

Helping Out Others is Our Job

2009-07-27T13:52:00.002-04:00

As we were on our way home, Melanie and I walked down the Canal Street train station’s staircase like normal teenagers – talking and laughing about whatever that came out of our mouths. When we arrived to the N/Q platforms, we turned our heads to the right and there was no one there, so we assumed the train just left. As we were walking that way, a MTA employee stopped us and said “N and Q train are up on the R platform.” We said our thanks and walked away. As we were walking we saw a father, son and daughter still standing there waiting for the train. We stopped for a second and contemplated rather we should tell them or not.

“Should we?” “Hey, why not!”

Melanie approached and told them the situation and the father said “oh, thank you!” We smiled and walked away and as we were walking, we saw tons of people still waiting for the N/Q to come. The funny thing was they were all standing in front of the signs that say “N and Q trains are stopping on the R line at the upper level”. So as we were walking, we stopped to tell them, “All N/Q trains are up on the R line!” There were two boys that said, “Oh Shoot! No wonder why we were waiting for so long!”

Of course we got our ‘thank you’s and such, but what felt so good was that we helped others out because we wanted to. It felt good to know that they didn’t have to waste so much of their time waiting for a train that would never come because we helped them out.

So do you remember the times when people would always get up to let the grannies, grandpas, the incoming mothers, and the mothers with child to sit? I’m not saying it still doesn’t happen – I’m just saying it’s hard to come by now. Now I’m asking you, do you volunteer to give up your seat to help the ones that need it the most?

If we were all a little less selfish and volunteered to help out people, then I think the community would be a much better place, wouldn’t it?

And on the side note, CYI’S Chinatown Beautification Day is coming up this Sunday on August 1-2! Come and join us to let the Chinese Community that the youth have a voice to change the community!

Can guys and beanie babies go together?

2009-07-07T15:24:00.003-04:00

I was listening to the Z100 Morning Show while jogging today, and the topic that came up was "Dating Guys with Geeky Collections." The conversation started off pretty general, until somebody then proceeded to mention guys collecting Beanie Babies or the more traditional stuffed animal - the teddy bear. There was a range of responses to this prompt - hysterical laughter, a couple of no-no's, some oh-my-god's, but there was one answer that specifically stood out to me.

"What's wrong with that?"

The person continued to explain his view of guys collecting teddy bears, saying, "How do we judge someone based on what they want to keep? Does it define my sexuality?" And when he questioned the mild protests to his questions, the answer was simply, "It doesn't fit."

So I guess it comes down to this: Is it ok for a guy to collect teddy bears? What makes it "ok" to collect cars and G.I. Joes and not Barbies and stuffed animals? In today's society, are gender roles still defined by what we own, how we dress, or what we like?

Summer Leadership Institute '09

2009-05-02T22:29:00.006-04:00

The Summer Leadership Institute features a series of free weekly summer workshops in which high school youth:
• Explore their identities and family histories;
• Discover the historical and current social, political, and economic realities of Chinatown, Asian Americans, and other underrepresented communities; and
• Design and implement their own youth-led community projects.

Join us for a summer of learning and fun!

Apply here.

"And to all you Asians, I think we're very cool people."

2009-04-29T17:41:00.002-04:00

I know the freeze screen may look a bit weird, but Kevjumba brings up a really good point.

Josh.

2009-04-02T00:31:00.000-04:00

A seventeen-year-old died today. Seventeen. Tall--blond--a junior at my school. I remember thinking, “Again? Not again. The universe couldn’t be so cruel.” I half-expected someone to pop out and say, “Ha! Gotcha! Happy April Fool’s!” and take it all back, but it never happened. My initial reaction was of course sadness and disbelief, but the news didn’t really sink in until I walked into my third period class. The principal had made a brief announcement over the broken loudspeaker system the period before, and as I walked through the halls and up the stairs from the basement to the third floor, I felt a sudden glum had settled over the entire school, affecting even those who didn’t even know Josh. Upon entering the music room, my heart sank. Not a single smile was in sight. No dimples, no crinkles in the corner of eyes, no teeth, no laughter. I saw one of my junior friends and just stopped in the middle of the room. His eyes were red and glassy, and his usual mischievous grin was nowhere to be found. He looked me in the eye and with the most solemn tone he whispered, “My friend just died.” At that instance my throat tightened and all I could do was give his arm a squeeze. I quickly walked away, trying hard not to tear. I felt like I didn’t have the right to cry over someone I didn’t even know. Beethoven’s 5th didn’t sound quite right as we began to play. It was as if the room had been drained of its intensity; its usual vibrant air. My friend David, bass player and unofficial class clown, walked out in the middle of class and didn’t come back until the very end. I caught his eye as he stood in the middle of the room, walked over, and threw my arms around him. Tears began streaming down his face as he buried his head into my shoulder. Being significantly shorter than him I was forced to tiptoe, but at that moment I couldn’t care less how uncomfortable a hug it was. No one deserved this grief. No one deserved this unfairness. No one deserved to die at such a young age, or experience the loss of a friend while they’re still a child.
I encountered many more swollen eyes and flushed faces throughout the day. It amazed me how many people were affected by Josh’s death--it seemed as if sorrow had flooded every inch of the school, seeping into even its most secluded corners and engulfing every heart. But amidst the blatant pain and sadness I noticed something; something I wish didn’t always emerge only after times of tragedy and death: a sense of togetherness; of unity. It was as if the entire school had pulled together into a single embrace, cutting loose from all its usual cliques and ties. The only other time I had ever seen the entire school so close before was when Dakota passed away three months ago. It saddens me that only truly something tragic has the ability of bringing everyone close together, and that only after a person dies do people really recognize and appreciate a person for who they were when they were alive. I pass by thousands of faces each day, but never really give them more than a glance--rarely ever a second thought. How many people do you encounter on a daily basis and glance at, but never truly see? I wish a life didn’t have to be lost before a person can really begin to be seen. It’s insane how much everyone takes for granted in this world, particularly Life itself. I mean Josh died of a heart attack at seventeen…and yesterday he’d been healthy enough to climb a tree. It’s scary just how unpredictable and short life can be.
I personally didn’t know Josh, but witnessing the huge effect his passing had on the student body has certainly affected me in some shape or form. It also got me thinking that if a person’s death can have such a great impact on so many people, imagine the immense impact one can make while alive?
As much as I’d hate to end this with a cliché: one person really does make a difference. Every single person does matter. And in the end, life is incredibly fast and fleeting. So make every second count. Don’t just speed through time, barely glancing around. Take a second look, and truly begin to see. Because only then will your life really be worth living (oh man, I sound like a fortune cookie…=/!)

P.O.W.

2009-03-31T23:40:00.002-04:00

Nothing good ever came out of those combination of letters. In fact it was the most unfair thing in the Mario games. The Goombas never stood a chance. But I'm talking about a different P.O.W. here. The periods after each letter make all the difference. It's my label. Not a label on a can that can be torn off. It's a permanent label, tattooed to me, free of ink, free of needles, free of charge. Works like a sharpie, permanent stains. Or kind of like soy sauce or blood if you don't happen to be carrying a Tide Pen on you.

I'm like McCain, but I don't necessarily see eye to eye with him. We're both P.O.W.'s. He's a Prisoner of War, and I, of Want. I want, and I want it all. I want everything from the valleys to the oceans. I want to be the King of the World, but that's a bit too much to ask. So I decided I might be praying for too much, so how about world peace? Battle world hunger? Free health care in the United States? Free train rides in New York? Free candy from the corner store in Astoria? Is THAT more realistic? Apparently not. Let me rephrase then, I'm not praying for it anymore. I'm begging for it. I want something, or someone to acknowledge that world peace is more important than the fact that President Obama's daughters might go to private school. Excuse me for stealing your line here, but I want change. Is that too much to ask? Why do Obama's daughters make it to front page news more often then important news? Why is it that we see catastrophes hit front page news more often then the words "Peace Talks in Consideration" or just "Peace"? Why do we spend our time stalking Obama's daughters fancy lifestyle, when there are plenty of daughters in Africa who can barely afford to eat? Chew on that food for thought.

McCain is a Prisoner of War, and I, a fellow P.O.W. A Prisoner of Want but also a Prisoner of Work. Whipped and tamed by society to spend grueling hours studying graphs of a function that can't even drawn a green line of peace between one country to another. Whipped and tamed by society to spend grueling hours learning the rate at which a ball falls to the ground when fired with x velocity at a y angle of elevation, when in truth the "ball" is just a nickname for the next missile we're aiming at our enemies. Whipped and tamed by society to spend our lives working, earning money, just to throw our salaries into tax dollars. A Prisoner of Work, and these handcuffs have no keys. The spare? I swallowed it.

The list doesn't stop there. A Prisoner of Want, a Prisoner of Work, a Prisoner of Wonder, a Prisoner of Wandering, a Prisoner of Words, a Prisoner of Woe. What I mean to say is I'm Prisoner WONDERING about the direction we're all headed, WANDERING around in attempt to find answers to our stupidity, only to hear the WORDS, "You're too young to do anything about it. Even so, you're only one person." Yeah, and with that point made. I'm a Prisoner of Woe.

It's not in my nature to be passive here. It's just not me to sit around and go with the flow. I might be young, but I'm not too young. I might be only one person, but that's one more of a person you'll ever be, you spineless thug. Learn to stick up for your beliefs, dammit. I'm a Prisoner of my own name, Will(iam). It's just not me to be passive, and I'll forever be a Prisoner of that. I'm a Prisoner of Will. Better yet, I'm a Prisoner of my own free Will.

spring.

2009-03-15T16:27:00.019-04:00

I recieved my exam grades last Friday and now I'm on Spring Break '09 until the 31st.

In the past couple of days, I haven't been thinking much, just living. I joined a Latin dance class at my gym. I finished a friendship bracelet. I window-shopped. I baked a cake. I slept 9 hours every night for the past 3 days. It's a nice change from my normal schedule of workeatsleep, repeat. I feel like life should be like this: calm, steady, and enjoyable.

I took my dog out for a walk today and realized what a relief spring brings: feeling the sun shine again, watching the grass turn a fresh shade of green, and shedding the heavy sweaters and boots. Knowing that summer is just around the corner. Spring is so wholesome.

As I go through high school, I realize more and more how focused I am on getting the grades and the extracurriculars to get into college while forsaking the time to actually enjoy my high school years. I see tourists on the streets of New York City, asking me for directions to a certain museum I realize I've never been to. I see old friends downtown strolling through streets with loads of shopping bags I rarely have the time to fill. I see groups of teenagers snapping pictures in the most random of places, outside stores and on the streets, capturing their experiences in one small compact camera. This upsets me as I am slowly realizing I lack substantial memories of such a great city, outside of school-related activities.

This summer is going to be a great one, filled with old friends and new ones, mindless shopping, dinners at random restaurants, trips to outer boroughs, late night karaoke, beach excursions, and buckets of sunshine soaking all corners of the city. I'm slowly realizing that I have to make the most of my childhood here in New York City, so that I can finally move on.

Barely scratches the surface...

2009-03-10T00:24:00.002-04:00

I've been meaning to post about this topic for a while, in fact since the beginning of Senior year, but now feels like an even better time for it.

Recently, in fact it was yesterday, Ruben mentioned something about Facebook. The average amount of friends on Facebook is apparently 150-ish. Not THAT insane I guess. But we pull more random information out of Ruben. Of all the friends that we have on Facebook, we probably only communicate with maybe 25, on a consistent basis. Now by communicate, I don't mean the textbook or dictionary definition of communicate. I mean the Facebook definition of communicate. You know, the occasional notification here or there. A wall post counts, or maybe a graffiti drawing. Or the infamous poke. We probably only communicate with 20ish people on Facebook. Lines like, "Hey we should hang out some time during the break," or "Happy Birthday! Make it good! You're now --, older than me!" Yeah, that's my definition of Facebook-communication. Now Ruben pulls out more random information. The human brain has the capacity to establish and maintain about 100ish[?] decent social relationships. That means people you would actually talk to outside of Facebook and stuff. Actually hang out with, actually have a conversation with, etc. You know, actual people you would consider good friends. People you confide in and all that sappy stuff. And our response to Ruben's "snapple fact" [for a lack of a better term], "I think that's actually too much. I was thinking only like 20 people." Yeah, so my point, to sum up this paragraph? Out of my 435 friends on Facebook, and the probable 30ish people I communicate with on Facebook, I feel like there are only a handful of people I REALLY hang out with and talk.

Anyways, the point of my post? I realize how small I am. I see CLP people once a week, and I hang out with CLPers more than I do with most Stuy kids that I know, and I see those Stuy kids 5 days a week. Blah. So those handful of people I mentioned previously? CLPers fall under that. But now the question remains is who out there actually considers me to be part of THEIR handful? And back to my statement, I realize how small I am. I'm sure most CLPers have lives outside of their Sunday group. Their handfuls are probably consisted of Mr. Monday-Friday and Ms. Second Period Math Class Buddy. Now I go by a lot of nicknames, but unfortunately Mr. Monday-Friday isn't one of them, nor is Ms. Second Period Math Class Buddy either.

So who really considers me to be part of their handful?

Maybe I've traveled down a very unfortunate road. Maybe I "overextended" myself here. I have 435 relationships, 30ish of these bonds I reinforce occasionally with a Facebook notification, which means 405ish of these bonds are merely "Hey I'm in your class, let's be friends so I've got a higher friend count on Facebook." Maybe I should've been one of those quiet kids in school. You know, the quiet kid that's only got 30 friends on Facebook, but all 30 of those kids are his best friends. All 30 of those kids are his handful. Sure he's got less friends than Mr. 435, but he's better friends with his friends then Mr. 435 is with his.

So I started thinking about college a bit. When college rolls around my handful will probably become half a handful. Now 435 might be 285 more than the average 150-friends-Facebook-user, but I'm thinking about the people I DON'T know now. The people I DIDN'T get to know well enough to friend on Facebook. The people I never had a class with in Stuy, but I still know the name of. For all I know, they probably think I don't exist, but I know their name. Now I probably could've been best friends with that kid, or she could've been in my handful...if I only got to know her. Point is, I can't tell if I don't know enough people, or if I know too many people.
The friendships that are, the friendships that could have been, and the friendships that never will be...

So let me finish this post. I feel like someone out there, maybe SOMEONE in my 435, or someone in my handful, or someone I don't even know yet, is my inspiration. Someone out there will inspire me and motivate me. Someone out there will push this button and I'll suddenly be a new person. I'll be the next revoluntionary figure and be remembered forever. I'll be read about in history books, and this post will be published, photocopied and handed out in classrooms.

So be part of my handful. Be my inspiration, and maybe I'll be yours.

P.S.
By the way, random fact, there are so many ants in the world, that together, they weigh the same as all the people in the world. Now if I were an ant, I'd have a lot more trouble finding that inspirational figure. More incentive for me to start looking. Hey at least I'm not an ant...

P.P.S.
I realize I write WAY too much...

"I'm lovin' it." Not really.

2009-02-13T23:04:00.004-05:00

"This is NOT what I ordered," it was an old lady who was at the cashier looking through her big brown paper bag from McDonald's. She was holding up a McMuffin wrapped burger.

"I do NOT give away free food. So go away and leave me alone," the manager had a real nasty tone in her voice.

This accident was actually pretty recent actually - it was right after I had finished another session of Chinatown Literacy Project. Melanie, another writer on AAYA!, and I had went to McDonald's looking forward to fill our stomachs with some fast food. So we entered the MickeyD's and the lines were long and the place seemed really crowded but we didn't mind the wait - we just wanted to eat and go. As we were looking up at the menu, I heard a commotion between a White worker and an Asian lady to our right. The lady was waving the wrapped burger in her left hand with an exasperated look on her face while the worker looked very annoyed.

They exchanged some loud comments to each other and the costumer walked away with a dissatisfied attitude. During the midst of their conversation, Melanie wandered off to the line on right where the arguement was taking place. Right after the worker, whom we assumed was the manager because of the different style of the shirt (it was striped, unlike the other workers whose shirts were solid blue), ordered Melanie's meal, a young Chinese boy was demanding for his happy meal. [At this time I had already ordered my meal and received it and walked over to Melanie.] The manager became more annoyed and scolded, "I gave you your Happy meal RIGHT there. Right in front of your face. I ain't givin' away free food to any of you."

Melanie asked the boy what was wrong. He had simply replied he paid for a happy meal and had not received it yet. When the manager came back to give Melanie her food, Melanie told the manager the situation again and the man. only repeated the same line again. And had added, "Oh my God. I put it right in front of you. Maybe the old lady took it or something." I really did not like her nasty attitude.

So we talked to the boy and his grandfather and told them that we'll talk to the lady and see what's wrong. So we did... and her grandson was eating a happy meal and she was sitting there, arms crossed, all angry-looking. We asked her, "What's wrong?"

"That worker is stupid and doesn't know what she's doing. I ordered a cheese burger and they gave me this sandwich and I don't even know what the hell it is. They charged me 19 dollars and I don't even know what I even paid for."

I nodded. I asked to see what was in the bag and she let me, and as I was looking through it she told me, "I ordered 3 happy meals and I don't even know what she gave me."

So Melanie and me were like okay, let's go back and talk to the manager again; we asked the lady to watch after our food and she was like okay.

We go back to the manager and tell her what the lady said, and she replied, "She didn't order 3 happy meals... she ordered TWO." and I'm pretty sure I went, "whoa" in my head. "Look, I could show you what she ordered. I would print the receipt but the printing isn't working." But she tried to print it out for us about 3 times as we stood there. I decide to go back to tell the lady what's going on and so does Melanie; I told her and she said, "I ordered THREE. One, two and THREE!" Her grandson was eating the third one as the other two were still in the bag. "I won't believe a thing that woman says unless she gives me a receipt. I don't even know what I paid for." Melanie walked away and as I was about to, "I'm not watching after your stuff anymore. If someone takes it, it's not my fault."

I'm not very easily annoyed from situations, but this. This was a no. I understand if you were frustrated, but if someone is trying to help you settle this situation, you would think that you would help watch that someone's stuff. I found that extremely rude coming from someone who Melanie and I were trying to help out. So I just took it and walked to Melanie.

The manager had showed what the lady had ordered on that nifty little computer the cashiers use and as it turned out, she DID order two happy meals and a McNugget 20 piece. We went back to the lady and told her that she did order two but she kept insisting she ordered three and won't give anything back unless there was a receipt shown. Melanie went to go ask the manager for a receipt but unfortunately, the printing machine was broken - bad management if you ask me.

We told the boy about his happy meal and all he said was, "it's okay. She's a b****. My sister is helping me order a happy meal right now so it's okay..." Honestly, he didn't even look alright. He seemed pretty upset. Unfortunately, the matter didn't resolve - the lady's son and another one of her grandsons came and ate the food; and the boy's family left feeling resentment towards the manager and the old lady.

As it turned out, inside that McMuffin wrapper WAS the cheeseburger - they ran out of cheeseburger wrappers. Another poor management problem - and did I mention, they ran out of straws and didn't even bother to refill? AND they don't have ketchup packets. Wow McDonald's... Restock more..

Honestly, I don't want to blame anyone, but I do. In my opinion, I thought it was the restaurant's poor management skills for the mix up. And the manager didn't really help with the situation. To me, managers should be calm and try to work out a problem. However, she was more annoyed than helpful. It seemed like she was stereotyping Asians... [A typical stereotype: Asians are cheap.] But, the only problems I heard were "wrong order" and "didn't get my happy meal", where was the "if I get fries, would you give me soda for free?" or something like that. Instead she assumed that they were asking for free food. A real manager would calmly explain, "That's not the wrong order - we ran out of cheese burger wrappers, so we're relying on these wrappers now," or "Are you sure you didn't receive your happy meal? Maybe someone took it when you didn't see."

Even though we didn't really settle the matter, we both felt pretty accomplished? Well we both felt good that we tried to help out with the situation. There were plenty of costumers who understood what was going on, but decided not to help. If I didn't help, I think I would have regretted not helping - I'm glad that we were able to speak out and help others (or at least tried to) than sitting back and watch two families feel even more frustrated. At least we found out what happened even though it wasn't resolved...

We all know a McDonald's is built in any busy district of New York filled with workers and a manager or two. These workers all understand many people wander the streets of NY - they all understand they need to work harder in order to make each costumer satisfied. So why are the people not satisfied in Chinatown? Doesn't McDonald's work on the satisfaction of the consumers? Whatever happened to, "a free meal if we don't smile at the register"?

Are you happy? Are you "lovin' it" ? Well... I certainly am not.

2009-02-03T22:37:00.004-05:00

I was shopping in Soho the other day, and I had stopped by a store to buy my Munny. It came out to a total of twenty-four something, so I asked the cashier, who was African American, if I could use my American Express gift card.

She said, "Of course, you can use it everywhere."

Everything was fine until the other cashier, who was also African American, said in this nasty tone, "Yea, everywhere in America."

At the time, I didn't really have a response, I just felt really embarrassed and wanted to leave the store as soon as possible. It didn't occur to me that I wasn't the one at fault here, and that the comment was totally uncalled for.

It also brings to mind an argument I had with my mother a while back, where she was worried about me going out late and saying how I might get mugged by people of color. I still remember the confidence in my voice when I had told her, "Mom, racism doesn't exist anymore."

I wouldn't really call my little experience with the cashier racism, but it definitely woke me up to the tensions and disputes between people. Comments like, "Go back to China," or "Ching ching chong," shouldn't hurt, because I know better, but they do hurt, because I'm also a person with feelings.

Half way through the school year?

2009-02-03T20:16:00.005-05:00

It's always "gotta learn. gotta earn. gotta succeed".
...so how about "gotta chill"?

My history teacher gives us a page filled with Calvin & Hobbes cartoons attached with every homework assignment packet. Maybe she wants to cheer us up? De-stress us? Make us laugh when reading about the 20 pg history homework assignment we have to do? I don't know, but some of them are hilarious. Below are some of my favorites. :)

Hope these brighten your day!

WEEKENDS FULL OF SUMMER FUN?!

2009-01-04T18:27:00.004-05:00

If you are:

· Passionate about issues that face Chinatown, Asian Americans, and other underrepresented communities.

· Dedicated to raising awareness and inspiring discussion around what you are passionate about.

Then you have what it takes to be part of the staff at our Summer Leadership Institute (SLI).

This summer, be a different kind of leader…

One who can inspire high school youth to become, not just the leaders of tomorrow, but the leaders of today!

Chinatown Youth Initiatives is now hiring summer staff!

The mission of Chinatown Youth Initiatives (CYI) is to empower New York City youth with the knowledge and skills necessary to address the needs of Chinatown, Asian Americans, and other underrepresented communities. CYI is a youth-run organization that works to build a legacy of young leaders by strengthening awareness of community issues through workshops and project initiatives.

The summer program of CYI, called the Summer Leadership Institute (SLI), consists of a series of weekly workshops, in which high school youth engage in exploratory activities and discussions. These workshops, typically run by college students, aim to facilitate identity and leadership development, as well as to enhance awareness of issues affecting underrepresented communities. Please visit our website at www.cyinyc.org for more information.

CYI is currently in search of candidates to fill the following unpaid positions:

1) COORDINATOR (1 POSITION)
Works with Senior Coordinator: To oversee all aspects of program administration for the Summer Leadership Institute, keep track of budget and program expenses, provide training to facilitation team, as well as develop curricula for and facilitate youth workshops during SLI around sociopolitical issues.
2) FACILITATORS (UP TO 4 POSITIONS)

Works with other facilitators and coordinators: To develop curricula for and facilitate youth workshops around sociopolitical issues, organize informal hangouts for assigned small group.
3) PARTICIPANT OUTREACH COMMITTEE MEMBERS (UP TO 11 POSITIONS)
Works with other committee members: To spearhead outreach efforts to diversify and maximize number of applicants for SLI, assist coordinators in creating and distributing participant applications, research opportunities to increase program visibility.

Download the attached files to apply and for more information. [leave an email..!!]

For further inquiries, please contact Silvena Chan at silvena@cyinyc.org

All applications must be received by 11:59pm EST on Sunday, February 8th, 2009, via email to apply@cyinyc.org.
All qualified individuals, regardless of gender, gender identity/expression, race, ethnicity, religion, sexual orientation, etc., are encouraged to apply.

All positions are unpaid, but CYI is more than willing to work with colleges so that summer staff can receive internship and/or school credits.

In short, a biography of you, 500 words or less.

2008-12-21T21:42:00.003-05:00

Tell us what characteristic defines you in 500 words or less.

Tell us why you're interested 400 words or less.

Tell us what impact you would have in our community 300 words or less.

Essentially, what they mean to say is, put yourself to paper. [16, 17] years young, and they want us to put ourselves to paper. Every skinned knee you've ever had, every and anything that you have eaten before, every single word you've written, and every lesson you've learned, put it to paper. Oh, by the way, try and limit it to 500 words or less. Preferably less.

So you sit behind a computer screen. The bags under your eyes, heavy, but your eyelids, heavier. Nothing but the light of the screen to light up your keyboard. But you don't need to look down at the keyboard anymore, that's for amateurs. You know your way around the keyboard already. Caffeine induced or caffeine overdosed, you can't tell which state you're in, but for the next month or so, caffeine is your elixir. You start to type a few words. Then a few sentences. Then a paragraph. Reread it. Ctrl A, delete.

And you finally can't take it anymore. You roll the computer chair back and yell at the computer screen, hoping somehow your frustration is translated into some binary code, and your computer feels sympathy for you, creating the best written essay anyone has ever seen or read. Words of wisdom, inspiration, motivation. Words that would have the power to convince people to drive hybrids, to donate money, to battle hunger. They'd idolize you, put you up on the wall with a portrait of you with your best smile. Even if it wasn't your best smile, the air brushing and the shadows compliment your pearly white teeth. And even if your teeth weren't pearly white, no one would dare laugh at you, because they've renamed the whole institution after you.

And with the blink of an eye, or the reverse of the blink of an eye [the opening of an eye?] it all fades to black. Just a dream. A lovely dream. And you wonder why you even put up with this all. Why even bother going through this process ten times over, each time with a slight tweak or variation. 500 words. No, this time 400 words, and tell us about your family too. 600 words, and tell us about your favorite subject. 300 words, and we want you to gush about us, tell us how great we are, and how we decide your next salary for the rest of your life, not to mention your next four years. Oh and while you're typing this 300 word essay, we want you to balance on a unicycle with a pitcher of water on your head, while saying three times fast, "She sell seashells by the seashore." And if we didn't mention the optional part, which isn't actually optional, we just say optional to sift out all the applicants that aren't devoted, we would like you to rub counterclockwise with one hand, and pat your head with the other hand. How do you pat your head if there is a pitcher on your head? Not our concern. How do you write the essay if you don't have a free hand? Should've been more well equipped for this task...maybe you're not that 'well suited for us afterall. But back to where we were...why do we do it? Because of our parents. A six figure salary is okay..." they start, "but if you were providing for you, your spouse, and your two kids. Don't you want Mommy and Daddy to be happy? We want to live in a big house too! And what about your Grandparents? And your fourteenth cousin twice removed? Have you forgot about him? So yes, it's okay if you make a six figure salary, we'll just rot in the streets while you live happily ever after for a short while. But just know we sacrificed days and years so we could pay tuition for your private tutoring."

So it's you against everyone else. Everyone meaning them. Those folks reading your essay and your parents and your grandparents and your fourteenth cousin twice removed and every single thing out there that says no to you.

But forget about "you." I've spent this whole essay replacing the word I with the word "you." The hypothetical "you" who is actually NOT in this ridiculously absurd position. So back to me, I've got 12 more applications to go through. And THIS whole essay has totally gone over the 500 word maximum, so it'll end here.

My parents were never politically active and probably never will be.

2008-11-15T21:35:00.013-05:00

In fact, I never thought they really cared about what person or what party ran the country as long as the country was functioning and Sino-American relations were friendly (they did not want a war to start between China and the United States). I almost never discuss current events and political affairs with my parents. Because of this lack of discussion, I adopted the assumption that my parents were indifferent to politics and slightly ignorant of current events. Although both registered voters, my parents only voted during presidential elections; they do not believe their two votes would affect the final results of the election. My dad once stated firmly that politicians couldn’t be trusted, that power corrupts people, and that one should be concerned with one’s own business and let the government be. It never occurred to me that although my parents seemed politically indifferent, they have very strong opinions on the American government and deep concerns for the welfare of American society.

My parents originally “supported” Hillary Clinton, if “supporting” a candidate means willing to vote for that person if he or she received the Democratic Presidential Nominee. My parents both believed Clinton had the experience (/they were familiar with her name). They remembered the Clinton administration in the 1990s supporting Asian Americans and attempting to improve ties between the US and the countries in Asia. My parents believed John McCain was too old to be president and that Barack Obama, “too concerned with the interests of African American”, would attempt to improve the conditions of African Americans more than other minority groups (and hence, not look after Asian American interests as much). After Barack Obama defeated Hillary Clinton and became his party’s Presidential candidate, my parents switched parties and “supported” McCain. The main reason was because his policies toward China were friendlier than Obama’s policies toward China. They explained to me that Obama attacked China for its lack of regulation in industry and proposed sanctions against Chinese toymakers. I accepted this argument and for a while, “supported” McCain. (Apparently, I’m very easily swayed.) Months later, I began to google information about the election and watched debates and interviews of the two Presidential candidates. I felt Obama’s views aligned with mine on many of the issues that were (are) important to me—education, technology, the war in Iraq, and women’s rights to choose. I also felt his charisma, ability to inspire, and intellect made him the more favorable candidate in this election.

A few days before Election Day ’08, I entered into an argument with my mom. I wanted her to vote for Obama and not for McCain. My family’s rather Republican (Staten Island’s rather Republican). My mom gave me a rather vehement response after I told her Obama was the better choice. I became so mad at her stubborn pro-McCain attitude that I became speaking of things that weren’t true about both candidates, just to justify my point. However, her reaction surprised me because I never expected her to actually differentiate between what was true and what I made up. Although not as politically active as my friend’s parents are, my parents are still aware of the events in the country they reside in. However, they aren’t as open about their opinions. My mother believes trade protection is extremely anti-China (Obama advocated trade protection more than other any candidate). My mom believed that if Obama won, he would give benefits to the African American community that will be detrimental to the Asian American community in the US. For example, Obama supports affirmative action-- policies intended to help African Americans and, to a lesser extent, academically underperforming and less financially fortunate minority groups. Affirmative action does not benefit Asian Americans and, in fact, hinders Asian American admission into top universities. My mom believed Asian Americans like herself would not benefit from Obama’s presidency. She supported McCain because she believed his policies would benefit upper-middle class families--her social class.

I believe Obama presents a view of governing that is inclusive and encourages unity among Americans of different social classes and backgrounds. His speeches render inspiration and hope for a better America. However, why are his supporters so fanatically supportive of him? Why has “I support Obama” changed into “I believe in Obama”? I think people are placing too much emphasizes on how Obama is going to change America. Although his motto is “Yes we can!” and although he is suppose to represent change, change cannot happen overnight and Obama must overcome many obstacles as the first African American president of the US, as well as overcome our current breakdown in economy and system of government (Democracy and capitalism seem to be causing more problems than they are solving and the systems just do not seem to function as well as people originally planned them to function). Obama must cope with the recession, the increasing power of the Presidency (ah Bush), the War in Iraq, and America’s deteriorating international image. Obama is not a superhero, but I feel many Americans have placed a superhero expectation. Although I think we should be optimistic about his presidency, my parents and I do not believe his victory in the 2008 election means the end of all troubles and a new beginning.

Life is...

2008-10-22T19:16:00.005-04:00

"The most important things in life aren't things." - Anthony J. D'Angelo

When you were younger, did you ever think that growing up would be filled with happiness and joy? That there was no pain or suffering that could possibly ruin your path to adulthood? Well, you were dead wrong.

It's hard to find a teen out there that can be so happy and so carefree about their life at this moment in time. If you're one of those lucky teens, then keep going at the happy. If not, try to enjoy the happy.

Unfortunately, we all must face the suffering, the pain, the hard times. Friends come and go; boyfriends/girlfriends can't always be there for you; families have their own troubles. Everyone has a different life and they can't always be there for you. Arguments may happen. The sudden drifting and abandonment creeps up at you. Are you lonely? It's okay because you're really aren't alone. Everyone feels this way sometime in life. It's natural.

So appreciate the pain because it's the only way for you to know what true happiness means. To know that after the pain, there's a moment when you could laugh your butt off and smile non-stop - that's happiness. To sit and eat chocolate and ice cream all day with someone you care about and end up watching your favorite show/drama/cartoon/anime/movie/series... wouldn't that be fun?

Happiness comes in many different forms. It could be hanging out with friends, eating a quiet dinner, maplestorying, spending the day with family, being with your lover, etc.

But really, what's happiness? what's pain? what's loneliness? what's life?

Life is questions. Life is unanswered. Life is inevitable.
Life is pain and suffering so you can feel the joy and laughter.

Life is... whatever you want it to be..

Asian Parents

2008-10-06T01:09:00.002-04:00

For the first time in my life I got lower than an 85 on a math test. In fact, I got a 65. The first thought that came to my mind was to hide it from my parents and just try to make up for it with better grades in the future. But what does it mean to a parent when you don't know what your child is struggling in?
This is how my parents raised me. They taught me that life was a dog-bite-dog society where only the strongest and toughest make it to the top. So I grew up as a cynic - one that prided academics over much else. In high school, I started losing it. It became hard to survive just with a competitive frame of mind. Grades are everything to my parents; grades are their top priority next to money. So I grew up hiding bad tests in my bed sheets, pillow covers, in between textbooks, heck even inside tissue boxes.

I can also truthfully say that I have never had a real conversation with my father. Whenever I tried to talk to my father about something not science-related or academic, he would tell me to "stop wasting time" or "do my homework." OF course, I rarely get the chance to talk to my father anyway, since he has around a 13 hour workday. My mother told me everything I know about my father. I learned that he swam across a river in hopes of finding a good job, was used by a young woman to pay for her college and then dumped when he came to America. If it weren't for my mother's stories, I would know nothing about the man who so fondly reads newspapers at the dinner table.

So what has the idea of parenting among Asian American parents come to? To get your son or daughter into an Ivy League? Is this what the Asian-American dream is?

TEAMWORK is best.. right?

2008-09-24T23:13:00.000-04:00

There's always a time when you think things don't feel like how it should be going. Doesn't that just suck?

"What are they expecting of me? What should I do? Should I just shut up and listen to whatever they're saying?" if you ever thought those questions, well here's what you should do:

1. Stop thinking about these questions - just ask them. It might scare the person or it might make the person meaner. But it's all good! At least they how you feel.. a bit.
2. Don't shut up and listen. Sometimes it's good to give in your input - what if you don't like what that person is telling you to do? If they say go jump off the cliff? would you do it? I hope not. I really hope you do NOT jump off a cliff. I am not giving any suggestions for you to do so.. So don't!
3. If the person thinks that they're all that and that they should be the grand master of the plan, tell them it's a group effort and that they shouldn't be bossing people around. "There is no I in TEAM."
4. If anything fails, back it up. There's a reason why it's GROUP work - if one person falls, another person should be there to help..

I'm sorry if I rambled, but I've been told most of my school-life that, "Where ever you go in life, there's always a chance you'll be stuck in group presentations or group work".. something along those lines.

Now excuse me, as I go kill a mosquito that has been flying around my room for a while.

P.S. Eva says hi and she'll bake cookies for you if you Join CLP. Info on facebook.

C-Y-I! HUUUUH!

Opportunity!

2008-09-04T23:38:00.001-04:00

Museum of Chinese in America’s
Docent Training Program with Voices of Young Chinese America
Throughout the 2008-2009 school year, MOCA will be bringing together a group of 10-
12 youth who will be trained to facilitate interactive, exhibition-based gallery programs
in the Museum and lead neighborhood walking tours for a wide range of audiences.
These youth will participate in an intensive training on Chinese American history and
culture, oral history, research, public speaking, group facilitation and museum education.
Upon completion of the training, participants will become part of the museum docent
team, where they will lead group tours and receive ongoing training.

I will post forms and deadlines later with more information, unless this post is deleted.

Chinatown Struggles with Gentrification

2008-08-31T12:34:00.009-04:00

I was walking in Chinatown the other day, and a group of people yelling and waving banners drew my attention. As I listened closely to what the protesters were saying, I realized they were all screaming for adequate and affordable housing. The issue of gentrification has come up before, especially when you're a participant of Chinatown Youth Initiatives, which focuses on issues and events affecting and relating to Chinatown, but to see so many voicing their concerns for their lives and their community was sort of a shock to me.

Chinatown has always had a history of suffering and poverty, but it has always been an upward journey, however slow and unbearable. Now, as the city plans to redevelop the Lower East Side and launch a Business Improvement District (BID), tenants and families are forced back into one-room apartments and poor living conditions. Many in Chinatown already live below the poverty line, and as the BIDs require a three to five percent tax hike on private property and small businesses, the quality of life will only continue to deteriorate.

Recently, I had a discussion with a friend about the man-made waterfalls that now line the Lower East Side, and I was a bit disappointed to hear, "It's art. We just don't know how to appreciate them," as a response to my claims that they were a waste of $15.5 million. But while these waterfalls are a part of a plan for upscale high-rise development to attract more tourists, the property tax it entails would push small business owners out of Chinatown. I believe that such art, which does not benefit the community as a whole, does not deserve such appreciation.

Claims that the BID and redevelopment will only benefit Chinatown have been met with fierce opposition from the people whose lives revolve around the community. Chinatown is the hub of Chinese heritage and culture in New York City, and to redevelop and invade it is to erase our past and replace it with skyscrapers.

Chinatown + Tourism = ?

2008-08-31T11:38:00.007-04:00

On May 10, 2004. NYC kicked off their new Tourism campaign with "Explore Chinatown!"

There are arguments both for and against Tourism industry in Chinatown. According to Asian Americans by PyongGap Min, the survival of chinatowns depend on tourism. But some of you may have mixed feelings about this like I do.

Chinatown has often been described as a self-sufficient neighborhood. An acquaintance of mine once told me that "you could live in Chinatown and never need to speak english." So why does Chinatown need tourists? Well, it bolsters the chinatown economy that had been heavily disrupted by the 9/11 tragedy. The Tourism campaign helped bring business to the restaurants and bakeries in Chinatown. Furthermore, it brings awareness of Chinatown as an important place in New York City. Although fireworks or anything of the sort are usually banned in NYC, we have experienced pyrotechnicians perform the firecracker ceremony at Chatham square for Chinese New Year.

However, tourism has many, much more negative, side-effects. In order to keep the tourism industry prosperous in Chinatown, the Chinese like to show the Chinatown community to be composed of law-abiding citizens who are fairly well off. This creates a mask over Chinatown as a happy society and hides all the turmoil and under-the-table dealings within (For example, low wage, long hour garment factory jobs and the fact that well-off small business owners live in confucius plaza, which was supposed to be affordable new housing for the poor).

Tourism is also a big player in the gentrification of Chinatown. Affluent people would build commerical establishments like Starbucks to takea dvantage of the influx of toursists. "Because rentals [of low-income housing] were very low and people were moving in, there was a great demand for these industries, and thus, the businesses that were already there could no longer compete because although the rentals were low, they still could not afford it. "(socyberty.com)

I believe the tourism industry has a negative impact on Chinatown. Despite increased city attention, the value of the culture that many Chinese Americans fight so hard to preserve is quickly decreasing. Chinatown may soon turn into another couple manhattan blocks with banks in the middle of the streets and Starbucks on the corners.

- James

Chinatown Youth Initiatives (CYI)

2008-08-02T18:22:00.000-04:00

Chinatown Youth Initiatives (CYI) is a youth leadership organization dedicated to providing a safe space for New York City youth, and empowering them to be agents of social change in New York's Chinatown and beyond. CYI embraces the philosophy that young people are not only tomorrow's leaders but also leaders of today, and as such, we must help develop their ideas, passions, and skills to strengthen their sense of self worth, as well as their families, communities, and ultimately, our global community.

Since its establishment in 1999, CYI has guided high school students through the exploration of personal identity, as well as issues affecting Chinatown, Asian Americans, and other underrepresented communities, as a means for providing the foundation and skills necessary to articulate the unique needs and wants of their communities - whether in Chinatown, New York, or America. While our mission remains the empowerment of the youth, CYI continues to shift its focus to promoting activism and the application of leadership skills in the real world environment through community projects.

AAYA! me please!

2008-08-01T18:21:00.001-04:00

"It is as difficult to start things as it is to finish things." - or something like that. I don't even know who said that... So I'm sorry if it's copyrighted or something. Just know it's just not my saying.

It took me forever to think about what to write for AAYA!'s first entry and it's still hard to put what I want to say into words. If you got what I just said, you're a miracle reader-worker-person.

Asian American Youth Action!, aka AAYA!, is Chinatown Youth Initiatives' little blogger that's run by youth for youth. What was once a little newsletter is now an internet blog source where your input matters. Isn't that just awesome?

AAYA! discusses stereotypes, discrimination, personal experiences, sexuality, and anything that may be concerned with any of your problems. AAYA! encourages every youth to speak out because we're going to be the world's next hopefuls in our society's problems. Speak out because your opinions matter as much as our future presidents' speeches! No, seriously! It really is!

[AAYA! is for everyone and the staff would appreciate it if you don't leave irrelevant and extremely negative and hurtful comments. And in return, AAYA! won't respond back with irrelevant, negative and hurtful entries. Please and Thank you.]

It is as hard to finish something as it is to start something. It really is.

Thank you for reading AAYA!'s first post.

P.S. I'm Eva and I'll be your AAYA! writer for today! :D

Contact Us

2008-07-31T19:03:00.007-04:00

"I think the importance of doing activist work is precisely because it allows you to give back." - Angela Davis, civil rights activist

If you have any questions, concerns, or suggestions, please e-mail us at aaya@cyinyc.org

Posted by AAYA! Blog

The AAYA! Staff

2008-07-31T18:23:00.007-04:00

"Your silence will not protect you." - Audre Lorde

Coordinators

Jeffrey Louie

Eva Yung

Melanie Gao

Writers (Fall 09)

William Kwan

Marion Condeza

Karen Zheng

Jenny Li

Sisi Huang

Shayra Kamal

Gavin Li

Philip Jeng

Bette Ha

Kevin Yung

David Lu

Posted by AAYA! Blog

Mission Statement

2008-07-31T18:22:00.010-04:00

"We speak with the intention of being heard." - Kelly Tsai, spoken word artist

AAYA! - Asian American Youth Action!

Chinatown Youth Initiatives' blog run for youth by youth

A place dedicated to the personal stories and experiences of New York City Asian American youth on issues important to them. An inspirational start point for Asian American youth to stand out, help their community, find events, and discover themselves. Behind the masks of first impressions, false judgments and stereotypes are individuals with fresh perspectives that should be acknowledged. With our title in capital letters and an exclamation point, AAYA! screams out to Asian American teens and anyone who recognizes communities and individuals that call out for their own genuine voices.

Let us share with you what is important to us.

Posted by AAYA! Blog