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We have a bunch of white folks wearing Hmong clothes.... i don’t mind it.
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That letter is a really cool idea.
I heard Asian cultures tend to express their love through food and that's somewhat tied to and passed down from different eras of food scarcity in our countries. Not sure how true that is.
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front and back?
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15 pages typed, 1.5 space
10 pages typed, single space
Probably would be 20+ pages if I wrote it out by hand
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This is my 3rd year in a row not being with my mom in person on Mother's Day. Wrote this one pager at the start of this month for her, but I know I won't be able to send it to her. Like a lot of Asian families, I suck at showing love to them. Don't think I've ever told her I loved her or thanked her in person for anything lol
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This is not uncommon in Asian families.
I figured I'd make the first move and set the precedent.
Funny how everything in my life makes sense now after writing it all down.
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Yeah, it’s good that you realize it now. One of my biggest regrets was not being a better son to my mom and letting her know I loved her as often as I could. When I was away at college she’d always ask that I call her every week but I’m not the type to call people and chat. There’s a lot I didn’t know about her that I wish I had asked. We don’t really think about our lives without our parents until something happens.
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As a mom, the comments hit deep for me. I've been working on treating my mom better (we butt heads a lot). I can't wait for the day that my boys are old enough and realize that I've done my best to be a good mom to them. I pray they know all the goodness in the world and find better women than me.
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From what you've posted and our interactions, you seem like a great mom.
Don't sell yourself short.
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Thank you! You're so sweet. I try really hard since I want to raise strong men who aren't privileged to kindness and respect. Those types of men seem rare nowadays but somehow I found a bunch here on NT. It must be my luck to be surrounded by such amazing guys!
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I’m always a lil surprised when I hear about Asian families not saying I love you to each other. My mom was the complete opposite and at times overbearing but as I have gotten older, I’ve realized how lucky I am.
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^ On that topic, here's a part of the letter to my mom:
"I have a dream of John (my brother), me, and our wives having dinner with you and Dad 20 years from now, laughing together while our kids play with each other and call you "grandma and grandpa." I'm excited to see you hold our future kids in your arms when they're babies during their Baptism. I'm excited to see you teach them how to speak Vietnamese, cook Vietnamese food, and navigate Vietnamese culture. I'm excited to see you share stories with them about how you escaped the homeland by boat, met Dad at a dinner party when you were 17 (and how he made fun of you when you met), grew the business together over 20+ years, beat the s--t out of me with belts and chopsticks when I got in trouble, and retired super early to enjoy the fruits of your hard work and effort. I'm excited to see you screaming at the top of your lungs, encouraging them to swim faster at their competitions and cheering them on at their tennis matches. I'm excited to see you teach them the values of humility, compassion, resilience, grit, and thoughtfulness. I'm excited to see them build such an unbreakable bond with you and Dad that they FaceTime you for life advice and cry and hug you tight when they have to leave after they visit you. Most of all, I'm excited to see you love them the way you love us."
"I have a dream of John (my brother), me, and our wives having dinner with you and Dad 20 years from now, laughing together while our kids play with each other and call you "grandma and grandpa." I'm excited to see you hold our future kids in your arms when they're babies during their Baptism. I'm excited to see you teach them how to speak Vietnamese, cook Vietnamese food, and navigate Vietnamese culture. I'm excited to see you share stories with them about how you escaped the homeland by boat, met Dad at a dinner party when you were 17 (and how he made fun of you when you met), grew the business together over 20+ years, beat the s--t out of me with belts and chopsticks when I got in trouble, and retired super early to enjoy the fruits of your hard work and effort. I'm excited to see you screaming at the top of your lungs, encouraging them to swim faster at their competitions and cheering them on at their tennis matches. I'm excited to see you teach them the values of humility, compassion, resilience, grit, and thoughtfulness. I'm excited to see them build such an unbreakable bond with you and Dad that they FaceTime you for life advice and cry and hug you tight when they have to leave after they visit you. Most of all, I'm excited to see you love them the way you love us."
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This is beautiful.
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My parents and I seldom say I love you to each other.
I always cry when pops tell me he loves me. I don’t know why.
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Wrote this for my Mom. Can’t get myself to send to her though. Too hard haha.
I was dying to show people in my new school in my new country my new lunch. I couldn't wait to impress them. What should've made me the interesting new cool kid from the country that often gets confused with Thailand, instead turned me into the unwanted kid and the easy target. When they smelled the putrid odor radiating from my dumplings, they scowled and told me to sit away from them. Why did you let me bring this to school when you knew it smelled bad? I started to hate you.
All the kids at school were trading Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z cards. I wanted a deck to fit in and finally become the cool kid. You told me it's a waste of money and to stop being childish. I was 7. I hate you.
I quickly fell in love with basketball. The one thing I did well and didn't have to expose my broken English. I wanted to stay after school to shoot hoops, hone my craft and become the next John Stockton. You made me sit in front of a piano instead. I really do hate you.
I could finally speak fluent English and made some friends. I even had a "girlfriend" who I would hold hands with before class. You dropped me off one day and spoke to me loudly in Mandarin and she overheard. She laughed and called me a "Ching Chong". I lost my girlfriend. I ******* hate you.
I didn't want to go back to Taiwan when I was 13. I heard Asian people have SARS. They're rude, they're loud, they smell, they couldn't speak English. You made me go anyway. Now I didn't just hate you. I loathed you.
Turns out I never caught SARS in Taiwan. Nobody said a rude thing to me, certainly no "Ching Chong" jokes and my last name wasn't made fun of there. And the food. The cheap, greasy, unhealthy and orgasm inducing food. You spent the last 7 years packing sandwiches for me so I would stop skipping lunch because I was too embarrassed to eat dumplings. Taiwan reminded me if I had to choose my last meal, I'd die happily with stinky tofu and soy milk mid-swallow.
People in Taiwan could barely speak English, Chinglish at best but you spent the past 7 years teaching me Chinese every weekend to ensure I never lost my culture. I was even admired for being bilingual.
My relatives asked me how my grades were. Up to this point, I never reflected on all the academic awards I won throughout school, not because I was smart, but because you spent every day teaching me more Math and Science and scraping together whatever we had left to send me to tutors.
When I started chasing girls, they'd always ask me to play the piano for them. I'd rip out the latest Ne-Yo or Chris Brown song and they'd be mesmerized for a brief 3 minutes. I passed the highest grade in piano at the age of 11 because you forced me to, promising one day I'd be grateful.
I told you I didn't want to be a doctor. Dad was furious and you were disappointed, but I overheard you telling Dad I'm smart enough to figure it out and I couldn't follow the footsteps of my older and smarter brother.
I experienced my first heartbreak when I was 21. My male friends would tell me to toughen up or go out and get laid. Neither worked. I had nobody to turn to. I broke and it was you who carved a path out of a dead end. It was your arms I cried into.
I graduated, somehow landed a job and took you to Europe. You finally got to travel after spending 20 years dedicating your life to us. You thanked me. I realized I never thanked you, not even once. I felt entitled to you for two decades. Well here goes.
Thank you for teaching me Mandarin. Not just how to speak, but to read and write. You weren't a teacher, but 2Pac wasn't either and he taught me more than any English teacher I've ever had.
Thank you for cutting the crust off my sandwiches and warming up my bowl of cereal in winter every morning before school.
Thank you for always bringing a McChicken burger before every piano class. It was your way of getting me to stop complaining and like everything else you did, it worked.
Thank you for believing in me when my grades slipped during and after high school. You saw me as more than a student, but a learner.
Thank you for being angry, for being disgusted, for being disappointed, but still accepting me when you found out about my tattoos. All $10,000 worth of them.
Thank you for being the only family member who ever made a cake for my birthday, then getting lazy every year after that and offering birthday noodles instead.
Thank you for making it through when you nearly passed away giving birth to me, and reminding me every few years you were ready to give your life to give me mine.
But I still ******* hate you.
I hate you for not living in the same country as me.
I hate you for tolerating my tantrums and forgiving me time after time after time.
I hate you for not being in perfect health.
I hate you for making me feel more love for another human being than I thought was possible.
I hate you for making me feel weak.
Most of all, I hate you because when I finally know I can repay you for everything you've done for me, you'll no longer be here.
Happy Mother's Day.
All the kids at school were trading Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z cards. I wanted a deck to fit in and finally become the cool kid. You told me it's a waste of money and to stop being childish. I was 7. I hate you.
I quickly fell in love with basketball. The one thing I did well and didn't have to expose my broken English. I wanted to stay after school to shoot hoops, hone my craft and become the next John Stockton. You made me sit in front of a piano instead. I really do hate you.
I could finally speak fluent English and made some friends. I even had a "girlfriend" who I would hold hands with before class. You dropped me off one day and spoke to me loudly in Mandarin and she overheard. She laughed and called me a "Ching Chong". I lost my girlfriend. I ******* hate you.
I didn't want to go back to Taiwan when I was 13. I heard Asian people have SARS. They're rude, they're loud, they smell, they couldn't speak English. You made me go anyway. Now I didn't just hate you. I loathed you.
Turns out I never caught SARS in Taiwan. Nobody said a rude thing to me, certainly no "Ching Chong" jokes and my last name wasn't made fun of there. And the food. The cheap, greasy, unhealthy and orgasm inducing food. You spent the last 7 years packing sandwiches for me so I would stop skipping lunch because I was too embarrassed to eat dumplings. Taiwan reminded me if I had to choose my last meal, I'd die happily with stinky tofu and soy milk mid-swallow.
People in Taiwan could barely speak English, Chinglish at best but you spent the past 7 years teaching me Chinese every weekend to ensure I never lost my culture. I was even admired for being bilingual.
My relatives asked me how my grades were. Up to this point, I never reflected on all the academic awards I won throughout school, not because I was smart, but because you spent every day teaching me more Math and Science and scraping together whatever we had left to send me to tutors.
When I started chasing girls, they'd always ask me to play the piano for them. I'd rip out the latest Ne-Yo or Chris Brown song and they'd be mesmerized for a brief 3 minutes. I passed the highest grade in piano at the age of 11 because you forced me to, promising one day I'd be grateful.
I told you I didn't want to be a doctor. Dad was furious and you were disappointed, but I overheard you telling Dad I'm smart enough to figure it out and I couldn't follow the footsteps of my older and smarter brother.
I experienced my first heartbreak when I was 21. My male friends would tell me to toughen up or go out and get laid. Neither worked. I had nobody to turn to. I broke and it was you who carved a path out of a dead end. It was your arms I cried into.
I graduated, somehow landed a job and took you to Europe. You finally got to travel after spending 20 years dedicating your life to us. You thanked me. I realized I never thanked you, not even once. I felt entitled to you for two decades. Well here goes.
Thank you for teaching me Mandarin. Not just how to speak, but to read and write. You weren't a teacher, but 2Pac wasn't either and he taught me more than any English teacher I've ever had.
Thank you for cutting the crust off my sandwiches and warming up my bowl of cereal in winter every morning before school.
Thank you for always bringing a McChicken burger before every piano class. It was your way of getting me to stop complaining and like everything else you did, it worked.
Thank you for believing in me when my grades slipped during and after high school. You saw me as more than a student, but a learner.
Thank you for being angry, for being disgusted, for being disappointed, but still accepting me when you found out about my tattoos. All $10,000 worth of them.
Thank you for being the only family member who ever made a cake for my birthday, then getting lazy every year after that and offering birthday noodles instead.
Thank you for making it through when you nearly passed away giving birth to me, and reminding me every few years you were ready to give your life to give me mine.
But I still ******* hate you.
I hate you for not living in the same country as me.
I hate you for tolerating my tantrums and forgiving me time after time after time.
I hate you for not being in perfect health.
I hate you for making me feel more love for another human being than I thought was possible.
I hate you for making me feel weak.
Most of all, I hate you because when I finally know I can repay you for everything you've done for me, you'll no longer be here.
Happy Mother's Day.
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Visiting SF / San Jose for Memorial Day weekend -- first time there
Recommendations for food, art galleries, ABG spots?
Thanks fam!
Recommendations for food, art galleries, ABG spots?
Thanks fam!
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Cocktail bar: Wilson & Wilson http://www.thewilsonbar.com/
Pizza: Tonys Pizza Napoletana
PanAsianCuisine: LihoLiho Yacht Club
Prime Rib: House of Prime Rib
Oyster Bar: Anchor Oyster Bar (as good as Swan Oyster Depot w/o the 2hr wait)
Dim Sum: Koi Palace Daly City (most places are decent)
Seafood: Scoma's
https://sf.eater.com/maps/best-new-restaurants-san-francisco-oakland-berkeley-heatmap
Most of these places were good too
Art: SF Legion of Honor, MOMA
Art Galleries: Drive to LA Haha
I'm sure others will post better places.
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First things first: I want to welcome you to the Bay!
Second: Do not leave anything in your car. Smashing windows is a regular thing here so don't leave anything you don't want stolen.
Which cities will you visit? SF? SJ? Or will you go around? I have different recommendations for different areas.
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1) Really looking forward to it
2) Duly noted -- will be traveling around with my cousin who lives in the area
3) SF / SJ / staying out in Richmond -- will mostly be in SF + 1 day in San Jose
