There was a memory about growing up in Communist Vietnam I had forgotten until Apollo and I talked yesterday about our childhoods. There was a girl from third grade I didn't like, she didn't vote for me to lead a study group. I told my dad that I wanted to tell my teacher her family played music at home. They lived down the street from us, I heard her mom play a folk song once. You see, back then, we were not allowed to play music in private spaces. Music was allowed in public spaces, for community purposes, but not as a private right. It was a control and propaganda tool. My dad was very sad and upset. He began to explain to me what that potential action of me reporting them would mean... I had not considered the grave consequences for her family, and the graver consequences for me, had I become a person that reported her neighbors. I don't believe in heaven and hell, but if I did, then my dad saved me from hell that day.
The line was drawn for us then. A line is being drawn here. Consider your complicity in supporting or turning away from this administration's actions regarding the separation of families, and/or your self-deception if you choose to believe their denial. Tomorrow, you will get up, you'll look almost the same, or maybe even exactly the same. You'll talk and laugh with the same friends, eat at the same restaurants, put your children to bed the same way. But something will have begun to consume you from the inside. And please, don't have me around to watch.
More steel-wrapped rouge from a couple of weeks ago that didn’t get posted #dtla 📷by @luudieuvan
Can’t wait for the weekend to get back to this #californialove❤️
All I need is this sunny life is me and my sunblock #MayaAlongtheWay
There were so many things you taught me, insight after insight in which to revel and celebrate, insights that were tender and cutting, insights that inspire me to raise my head above the grief and loss, insights like these, “Maybe that’s enlightenment enough: to know that there is no final resting place of the mind; no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.”