For Many Students, When Summer Starts – So Does School

“What are you doing this summer?”

When a lot of Asian students are asked this question, “summer school” – followed by a glum look – is a typical response. For many children, “summer” means attending fun camps, traveling with family, or relaxing at home without the stress of schoolwork. But for many other students, “summer” means getting ready for more school.

Elite high school entrance exams, the SAT, ACT, or simply keeping busy are all reasons why so many Asian parents send their children to “cram schools” during the two-month vacation.

Homework and summer studies are now the norm for more students, starting at younger age

I grew up in Bergen County, New Jersey, in a small suburban town with a large Asian population. Since early elementary school, classmates attended afterschool programs to brush up on their math and reading skills. Hagwon and buxiban (“cram schools” in Korea and Taiwan/Mainland China, respectively, who have made their way across the Atlantic to the U.S.) were commonly heard words.

In the midst of fractions and phonics in third grade, students would be busy solving for variables and reviewing vocabulary flashcards. When other students played sports and attended Girl Scout meetings as extracurriculars, many Asian students headed to Kumon, C2 Education, and Honors Review.

Of course, the SAT was a huge focus when high school started. At my high school, many Asian students were sent off to SAT prep schools for at least one summer. Though attending school eight hours a day for seven weeks may not seem like a very appealing summer activity to most teenagers, I felt pressure to enroll in SAT courses because everyone around me was doing so, and if I didn’t spend that extra time preparing for the exam, I would definitely fall behind.

New meaning to a “working” holiday – is this what we’ve come to?

I have lived in my hometown all my life, and over the years, I’ve noticed more and more Asian-owned learning centers opening up. A growing number of parents are investing money into their children’s education by sending them to these for-profit academies. Children are being tutored for longer periods of time, and they are also starting younger.

This phenomenon stems from East Asian countries and the high value they place on quality education. Students in East Asia continue to outperform their Western counterparts in academic performance and international exams. When their children are very young, many Asian parents begin to emphasize the value of education.

The summer after my first year of college, I taught English to underprivileged elementary school students in rural southern Taiwan. Though many of these children’s parents worked long hours for little pay, a lot of my students attended buxiban after six hours of English class every day.

When I was a teacher’s assistant at an English-Mandarin bilingual school with a large percentage of Chinese-American students, I noticed that many children rushed off to tutoring programs when the school day ended. But what really opened my eyes while interning at the school was though most students there were born into low-income immigrant families, the teachers were excellent, children were enthusiastic about learning, and attendance was near-perfect.

Whether it is doing vocabulary drills or solving equations, when summer finally rolls around, it is certain that many students will be busier than ever.

Growing Up as a Chinese-American

I am an ABC, an “American-Born Chinese.” My parents were born in China, but I was born in California.

California has long had a vibrant Asian population; I blissfully grew up in an Asian bubble. Kids did not tease me on the playground nor did they pull the corner of their eyes while chanting pseudo-Chinese sounding words.

Hey. Kids are jerks.

The dichotomy that many Asian-Americans expressed while growing up somewhat baffled me: I couldn’t relate to the hardships they faced in trying to become “more American.” I did not understand why they would feel embarrassed to use chopsticks in public, or why they would opt for the “all-American” burger or slice of pizza at lunchtime. I was not ashamed of my Chinese heritage and I openly practiced them without the need to hide my roots. I used chopsticks along with forks and knives in the same meal; I added wasabi peas to trail mix and brought it to school for snack time. For lunch, I ate chow mein with hot dog bits.

I felt that my Chinese practices and American practices seamlessly fused together. Growing up, I did not push aside the Chinese side of myself.

But I wanted to.

It would mean leaving behind the discipline and pragmatism. My parents avoided all frivolous expenditure that they believe would distract me from my studies. They saw vacations as something that would divert my focus from school and make me long for “fun”, so I stayed home during school breaks and learned the multiplication tables instead of going to Disneyland. I did not have stuffed animals or game consoles: such toys had no place in our household. Nor did I have jewelry and accessories. My parents were not going to encourage me to be some flirty “party girl” who cared more for fun than academics.

Diversity even in sleepovers

That goes to say, I did not enjoy the themes of the American “coming to age” culture: sleepovers, parties, dating. I wanted my childhood to be about the whims and enjoyments that categorize mainstream American youth, but it was an unrequited fascination.

Yet, I don’t resent my upbringing, though I do wonder whether I would be the person I am today without it. Would I still have the habit of compromising more than I should? Would I be more vocal with my thoughts and opinions? Would a more liberal upbringing have made me more self-confident? Would I still have had my eating disorder?

I know that I am who I am today because of my parents and how they raised me. I am grateful for my family and for the part they have played in making me the person I am proud to be today, shortcomings and all.

Where Do You Stand on Affirmative Action?

Recent talks surrounding affirmative action in college admissions have stirred up debates among racial and ethnic groups. Earlier this year, the proposed California Constitutional Amendment SCA 5 aimed to repeal Proposition 209, which was passed in 1996 and amended the state constitution by banning consideration of race, sex, and ethnicity in school admissions, public employment, and other areas in the public sector.

If passed, SCA 5 would have once again allow race-based affirmative action at public universities in California. However, the vote on SCA 5 was postponed.

In Michigan, the ban on affirmative action remains in effect after a Supreme Court ruling this past April. Though decisions regarding affirmative action have been made, its policies are still widely disputed and draw criticism from many members of the Asian-American community.

Affirmative action was proposed to promote equality and prevent discrimination namely among racial minorities, but a lot of people argue that race-conscious admissions hurt Asian-American students. For decades, Asian Americans have dealt with the “model minority” stereotype: the belief that they are the most successful group of students, excelling in academics and extracurricular activities while at school and then succeeding economically later on in life.

Where do you stand on affirmative action?

Race-conscious admissions draw swift opposition from the Asian-American community and students because their chances of being admitted to selective universities may be slashed. They agree that if students work hard in school and do well, they should have a chance of being admitted to selective institutions, no matter what.

However, the argument for affirmative action in college admissions persists.

For example, in California’s state universities, black, Latino, and Southeast Asian students are greatly underrepresented – but the East Asian student population is highly represented. Others argue that the “model minority stigma” is simply a myth: affirmative action caters to the educational needs of many Asian students, as a significant number of Asian-Americans do not excel at academics, and Southeast Asian subgroups are still underrepresented at many U.S. universities.

Proponents also assert that affirmative action creates a diverse environment for students to learn from each other. Additionally, the student body in many schools is not an accurate representation of the racial/ethnic population in surrounding areas. Affirmative action in college admissions gives hardworking individuals a chance to receive a high-quality education.

Indeed, deliberations over affirmative action have been hotly contested in the past few decades. Today, many people worry that race-conscious admissions would hurt people of color, whose acceptance into college may be seen as helped by these policies favoring them. Others propose that economic-based affirmative action may be a better way to create more diversity in schools. Though cases regarding affirmative action have been decided, there is no doubt that the education ruling will remain a controversial issue for years to come.

I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for– Bubble Tea?

Also known as milk tea, boba, 珍珠奶茶 (zhen zhu nǎi chá), and pearl milk tea, “bubble tea” is an increasingly popular sweet drink in the U.S.

It originated from Taiwan in the 1980s, although exactly in which city and by whom it was invented is disputed – either at a tea stand in Taichung or at a Tainan teahouse. Historically, the oldest known bubble tea was a delightful concoction of hot Taiwanese black tea, small tapioca pearls, condensed milk, and syrup or honey.

An “original” pearl milk tea, you can’t go wrong – black tea with milk and tapioca pearls, or “boba”

To enlighten anyone who hasn’t experienced this kind of Asian foodie culture, “bubble tea” is basically tea with milk, some type of sugar or sweetener, and tapioca pearls. “Bubble” refers to the tapioca pearls, which are usually black and are small and round, resembling bubbles; they sit at the bottom of the drink and have a soft and chewy texture.

Be adventurous and don’t just look at the pearls’ pretty colors – try other types of boba!

Typically sweet and cold, these drinks come in a massive array of variations. Sometimes, in addition or instead of pearls, you can request other types of add-ons, such as pudding or jelly. The tea itself can vary from black or green tea. Additionally, there are fruit versions, like mango milk tea, and even fruit-tea fusions, such as peach green tea.

Following the popularity of bubble tea, countless tea shops have popped up all over the world, even in Western countries: Fantasia, Boba Loca, Tapioca Express, Quickly, Half and Half (my personal favorite) – just to name a few.

How about this one to hit the spot, whether it’s your sweet tooth or your cavity: boba and pudding snow milk ice tea, drizzled with molasses

At most milk tea joints, the options for personalized drinks are flexible. Any tea drinker who knows exactly what they want can request less (or more) ice, a certain level of sweetness, omission of pearls, milk substitution. It’s like the Asian version of Starbucks – but better!

Yummy and refreshing, kiwi fruit tea!

As with any other food trend, with popularity comes controversy and scandal. For bubble tea, the trouble comes in the form of health concerns. With all its sugars and empty calories, bubble tea is by all means not what one would consider a healthy drink. To drag down its nutritional value further, tapioca pearls, milk powder, and juice syrups, all of which are commonly used ingredients in commercialized bubble tea due to their relatively low costs, have been found to contain banned chemical additives, linked to carcinogens and hormone imbalances. Fortunately, a quick Google search yields many results for healthy DIY bubble tea recipes.

Whew, at least bubble tea wasn’t on the line-up for New York City’s sugary drinks ban

Nonetheless, despite its controversial health properties, bubble tea is pretty darn delicious and reasonably priced. It’s no surprise that it continues to reign as a stylish and dessert-esque drink option, especially in large cities with diverse cultures. Sometimes I wish I could drink bubble tea everyday but, alas, it remains a wonderful and occasional treat.

Immigrants from the East Arrived on the West

Being a nation of immigrants has long been a point of controversy for the United States. The idea of immigrants overcoming discrimination and hardship to achieve the American dream, however, is generally dear to the hearts of most Americans. Unsurprisingly, stories of struggling immigrants coming to the United States and arriving on Ellis Island are cherished. Stories of those arriving from the opposite side of the country, though, are less heard. Europeans arrived from the Atlantic Ocean, but Asians arrived from the Pacific and they ended up in Ellis’ counterpoint: Angel Island.

Poetry carved onto the walls of detention barracks at Angel Island

(Photo: Preservation Nation Blog)

In 1970, Chinese poetry carved into the walls of the Angel Island Immigration Station saved it from destruction. After these carvings were found, Bay Area Asian Americans formed the Angel Island Immigration Station Foundation (AIISF) and began a long journey that led to the restoration of the station and its opening to the public in 1983. Today, AIISF’s mission is to continue preserving the site and educate the public about the role of the Pacific Rim immigration in U.S. history.

Immigrants arrive on Angel Island

Asian immigration into the U.S. began in the 1850s, when young single men were recruited as laborers. The recruitment was so extensively that, by 1870, the Chinese represented 20% of California’s labor force. But the 1876 depression changed the attitudes towards these workers so strongly that Congress eventually passed the only U.S. law to ever restrict immigration and naturalization on the basis of race. The 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act would restrict Chinese immigration for the next sixty years.

Thirty years after the Act’s inception, a national system had formed specifically targeting Asian immigration. Immigration officials developed a new facility on Angel Island, the largest island in the San Francisco Bay, isolating immigrants from the mainland. Men were separated from women. People were put through humiliating medical exams and harsh interrogations that required immigrants to remember minute details of their lives, such as how many steps were in front of their home. Until they were approved, immigrants suffered long waits on Angel Island, which could span from weeks, months, to years.

An aerial view of Angel Island

The AIISF hopes to make this part of U.S. history better known and to give voices to the immigrants that faced such conditions. In this effort, it has created a forum where people can read the personal stories and those of friends and family that went through Angel Island. The stories span from immigrants arriving in the early 20^th century, like that of Japanese-born Kaoru Okawa who arrived in 1919 to more recent arrivals like that of Sri-Lankan born Kumar Emayan, who arrived in 1997. What may be the most empowering work the organization has done, though, may be allowing readers to submit their own stories. Visit their website to find out how people can share their own stories.

14 Signs that You’re a “Twinkie”

Ever been called a “twinkie”? “Banana”? A “white-washed” Asian? These names connote that an Asian individual is “yellow on the outside, white on the inside,” having lost touch with his or her “original culture”. Asian-Americans who achieve a high degree of assimilation into dominant culture may identify with the labels; however, used derogatorily, the monikers misunderstand the complexity immigrants undertake to negotiate between identities: creating a new life in a foreign land inevitably entails a cultural tug-of-war, with casualties on both sides. Further, the assimilation experience varies across ethnicity, gender, sexuality, and economic status.

This list doesn’t define you, but it offers some markers of your degree of assimilation. Politically correct enough for you?

1. Your high school friends were all white.

The only Asian person to ever walk the halls of Bayside – going, going, gone…

2. You speak your ethnic language at an elementary-school level, or less. You can’t read the characters, but you know your food names.

And sometimes you only know one, not even in your own dialect

3. You weren’t spanked as a child. (While disciplining children physically is controversial in the West, it’s traditional in many Asian countries.)

Second place is the first loser!

4. You prefer using forks to chopsticks.

It’s really simple…

5. Your mother’s a bad cook.

Awkward

6. You play the drums or the guitar, not the violin or the piano.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing

7. You’re uncomfortable talking about your Asian-American identity, preferring your “colorblind” perspective.

8. Tiger Balm isn’t your immediate solution for mosquito bites.

9. You say that you only date white girls/guys.

We’ve covered some of that here and here

10. Your parents just encouraged you to “do your best” in school without regard to your grades.

While others might be more familiar with the “Asian dad” meme

11. You’ve watched two, maybe three animes, in total, including Pokemon or Sailor Moon.

Well, Pikachu is yellow… on the outside…

12. You’ve never gone to karaoke.

Once again, that’s not necessarily a bad thing

13. You have a low tolerance for spicy foods. You go light on the wasabi, tteokbokki, and Szechuan anything.

Yikes! Feel the burn!

14. You’re adopted.

Ah, well

14 Signs that You’re a “Twinkie”

Ever been called a “twinkie”? “Banana”? A “white-washed” Asian? These names connote that an Asian individual is “yellow on the outside, white on the inside,” having lost touch with his or her “original culture”. Asian-Americans who achieve a high degree of assimilation into dominant culture may identify with the labels; however, used derogatorily, the monikers misunderstand the complexity immigrants undertake to negotiate between identities: creating a new life in a foreign land inevitably entails a cultural tug-of-war, with casualties on both sides. Further, the assimilation experience varies across ethnicity, gender, sexuality, and economic status.

This list doesn’t define you, but it offers some markers of your degree of assimilation. Politically correct enough for you?

1. Your high school friends were all white.

The only Asian person to ever walk the halls of Bayside – going, going, gone…

2. You speak your ethnic language at an elementary-school level, or less. You can’t read the characters, but you know your food names.

And sometimes you only know one, not even in your own dialect

3. You weren’t spanked as a child. (While disciplining children physically is controversial in the West, it’s traditional in many Asian countries.)

Second place is the first loser!

4. You prefer using forks to chopsticks.

It’s really simple…

5. Your mother’s a bad cook.

Awkward

6. You play the drums or the guitar, not the violin or the piano.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing

7. You’re uncomfortable talking about your Asian-American identity, preferring your “colorblind” perspective.

8. Tiger Balm isn’t your immediate solution for mosquito bites.

9. You say that you only date white girls/guys.

We’ve covered some of that here and here

10. Your parents just encouraged you to “do your best” in school without regard to your grades.

While others might be more familiar with the “Asian dad” meme

11. You’ve watched two, maybe three animes, in total, including Pokemon or Sailor Moon.

Well, Pikachu is yellow… on the outside…

12. You’ve never gone to karaoke.

Once again, that’s not necessarily a bad thing

13. You have a low tolerance for spicy foods. You go light on the wasabi, tteokbokki, and Szechuan anything.

Yikes! Feel the burn!

14. You’re adopted.

Ah, well

Looking Through My Lens: Why I Take Pictures

In an era where people enjoy taking pictures on their iPhones, I’m still walking around with a manually adjustable film camera. I need to spend hours in the darkroom processing the negatives to make prints. My friends always ask me what keeps me enthusiastic in my photography and why I choose a film camera over a digital one. While I do like my high-performance digital camera, I see the world differently through a film camera.

Usually, I have to wait a few days – sometimes, even a month – to see what I’d shot. In the darkroom, under the dim orange light, I drop the photo paper into the developer, flipping it for about thirty seconds; the image would appear, spreading from the corners to the center. A minute later, I carry the fresh print in a tray under normal light, and I see a scene from the past.

At times, the negative may appear “boring”, but I’d go ahead and print it. To my surprise, there are details I hadn’t noticed, either when taking the picture or in the darkroom: an old woman with her face raised to the afternoon sunshine as a man passes by, walking his dog; students in a blur, jogging down a path; customers, at a restaurant, with the soft glow of light bulbs overhead. The people and the harmony of these scenes make me realize the eternal appeal of Charlottesville, my town, and why Thomas Jefferson chose to make his home here so long ago.

Documenting a moment of happiness

(Photo: Shabai Chen)

As a beginner in film photography, I felt frustrated whenever I’d ruin a roll of negatives. Later, I learned photography is a personal experience: the negatives may be ruined, the positives may be lost, but one’s memories occupies forever a space in one’s heart.

Last Spring Festival, I met an old Chinese woman with her five-months-old granddaughter. She was helping take care of the infant for her own daughter. The baby’s name was Jiu Yue, which meant September in Mandarin; we had a long conversation, and I took a roll of black and white pictures of them. Unfortunately, it didn’t come out the following month, and I nearly cried when I looked at the blank negatives.

I sat on a bench outside the studio, holding my camera and feeling its weight, trying to find meaning in this format. Finally, I told myself, that although I lost the physical representation, I’d met a nice woman and a cute baby, had a sweet conversation. I felt warm when I thought of the beautiful afternoon. I still had my memory; the only pit was that I couldn’t share it with others.

A photograph doesn’t show the truth; it’s first and foremost there to show you what the photographer sees. An example: on Tuesday, April 16, 2013, the University of Virginia’s Chapel bell tolled 32 times at 9:43 a.m., once for each of the victims in the April 16, 2007 shooting at Virgina Tech and for the victims of the bombing at the Boston Marathon a day prior. I sat in the garden, counting the bells; looking through the trees and through my lens, I focused on the bells and documented that moment to 1/125th of a second.

The author at an art exhibition

(Photo: Shabai Chen)

Photography is not about aperture, shutter speed, or framing; to me, it’s about life. It slows down my rapid pace, reminding me of the meaning of life and that it is wonderful. I enjoy not only the process of making prints in the darkroom, but also matting and compiling a portfolio – all those moments, memories, stories, and surprises together. My portfolio is about me: about walking in the forest, lying on the grass, looking at my shadows, seeking soft lights, and listening to my own voice.

Life is like photography: we develop from the negatives.

Recently, I did what my teacher told me in my first class: turn off your phone while taking pictures. Then, I turned on a peaceful world with sky peeping through the trees, outlining the delicate edges of the leaves; a little boy with a balloon; blooming flowers with morning dew still on them. That was what I saw through my lens.

Little boy with balloon

(Photo: Shabai Chen)

Pen Spinning World Cup 2014: Yes, It’s Real, and You Won’t Believe These Tricks

The Sochi 2014 Olympics proceeds, to the attention of the world; but, in a small and unabashed corner of the internet, another global competition rages – the Pen Spinning World Cup 2014. With teams from 10 countries competing, the tournament is one of pen spinning community’s largest group events.

Yeah, this is a real thing.

Each of the five rounds of the tournament is comprised of three battles: two singles (1v1) and one double (2v2). The single matches are separated into two themes: artistic and technical. Videos of the pen spinning are uploaded, and judges evaluate them based on five criteria: execution, difficulty, creativity, presentation, and theme. The tournament will be completed at the end of May.

February 2014: Round 1, Group A, HAL from Team JEB wins against a battle in the “artistic” category

You’ve probably seen pen spinning in class, or have even done them yourself. Pen spinning, also known as “pen tricks”, is the art form of twirling and manipulating a pen, though its teenage practitioners almost exclusively spin custom “mods” with no writing utility, optimized for weight and balance.

Motivated by competition and artistic innovation, pen spinners carry their “sport” to skill levels ludicrous to the unpracticed eye. The pen passes, rolls, and spins across the hand and between the fingers. There exist “fingerless” tricks that exclusively use wrist and palm movements, and some pen spinners have even experimented doing tricks with their feet.

Do you think this would fall under the “summer” or “winter” Olympics?

While the precise origin and history of pen spinning is unknown, the first record of pen-spinning comes from a student in pre-World War II Japan. The activity became popular in the 1970s, and after the advent of the internet, blew up due to the ability for pen spinners to discuss their craft on forums and share videos. As a result, pen spinning clubs have formed in the Philippines, and live tournaments are conducted in Japan and South Korea. Businesses have attempted to capitalize on the custom-pen market.

Asia retains the largest communities of pen spinners; South Korea alone has over 300,000 spinners. On the forum UPSB (Ultimate Pen Spinning Board), one thread discusses the connection between Asian ethnicity and pen spinning. The obvious answer is that pen spinning originated in Asia; hence, most pen spinners and “pros” are Asian. But there may also be specific cultural reasons why pen spinning took place in Asia. Forum member Eso observed that when he spun in public, Asian youth expressed a particular curiosity. He argued that “most Westerners aren’t accepting toward activities that are seemingly useless,” assuming that Western culture privileges utility and pragmatism over aesthetics.

What do you mean by “double” in pen-spinning? Kay and ACT show how it’s done.

Tofu, a forum member from Hong Kong, attributes the strength of Asian pen spinners to their dexterity developed through playing instruments, a sentiment that has also been expressed in the context of Asians and urban dance. However, in the end, most all agree that the skill of Asians in the pen-spinning world has less to do with cultural heritages, and more to do with the fact that most pen spinners are Asian.

But who knows: with teams from Germany, Poland, and the United States competing for the Pen Spinning World Cup, perhaps it’s only a matter of months before non-Asians take home e-fame gold.