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To the past, present, and future.
letter
from
exec
board
adeline yu
theresa lee
My Journey to
Contentment
By Nadya Azzahra
I was a meek 13-year-old finally getting the
taste of adolescence. Like any other teenager
in middle school, I was naive and had no
clue to what the future might hold. I woke
up every day for school and stared at myself
in the mirror. What horrified me the
most were the flaws I immediately noticed
through my reflection. All the acne on my
face, my dark spots, my frizzy and untameable
hair, my weight, my body, and many
more. I would do that for 3 continuous years,
thinking that it could make me feel any better.
I did it unconsciously, not realizing how
damaging and self-destructive it was, leading
me to lose confidence.
I envied seeing those who moved forward in
life with ease and certainty. Watching everyone
grow to find their own destined paths
made me feel frozen, as if time wasn’t on my
side. My insecurities took a toll on me, to the
point where it became the bane of my existence.
I refused to believe that there was
any sort of hope left for me. I looked at everything
as black and white and all the love
I had reserved for myself started to slowly
fade away. I felt stuck and motionless. Nothing
made me happy anymore. I would do the
same six things every single day; wake up,
go to school, go home, do my homework,
watch some Netflix, and sleep. It felt repetitive
and excruciating, knowing that I wasn’t
making any progress whatsoever. I noticed
how I wasn’t going anywhere in life, and that
made me frantic.
Seeing everyone’s world so bright and colorful
discouraged me to seek a new path. I
was confused and overwhelmed with doubt.
I let my insecurities define who I was and I
realized how badly it affected my life. I was
afraid to try out new things, already being
too comfortable in my own space; my safe
haven. I was blinded by the fact that I was
the main reason why I stopped moving forward.
I was too busy paying attention to other
people’s lives instead of my own. I came
to accept that no matter how hard I tried, I’d
always be flawed - imperfect in some way.
It’s been four years since I’ve seen life as a
monochromatic palette. It took me a while
to finally realize the person I was creating
in my head was merely an illusion, a dream
that felt impossible to achieve. I kept convincing
myself that there was no such thing
as “perfection”. There was not a chance that
I’d already figured my life out at the ripe age
of thirteen. The satisfaction that I was longing
for for years was never going to happen,
and I accepted that. My life felt uncertain
and although I looked at the world differently
now, there was still a missing piece that
I’ve yet to discover.
My past insecurities are now beneath me. A
hard look in the mirror has finally convinced
me that I am worth more than a pretty face
or a skinny body. I’m still on the everlasting
journey of self-acceptance, but now I
trust the process, albeit a slow one.
Nobody is ever sure when they’ll reach
the finish line but I believe one doesn’t
exist. The only way for us to move forward
is to come to terms with ourselves. It’s safe
to say that I came to peace with my past. I
feel more content and less bitter with
myself, and that’s all I ever needed.
Notes from My Last
One: Slow down, love. There
is no rush in life and there is
nothing to gain at being the
first to reach the end. You know
this; you’ve always known
this. So enough with the hustle
porn, put away the books and
the podcasts on ‘how to hack
your life overnight.’ Catch your
breath, allow your skin to really
feel the wind and the sunshine,
take one step at a time, and
savour every sound of life’s music.
Everything will be alright.
Two: Understand that timing is personal.
What you have gained, some
may have yet to acquire. What you are
still seeking, others may have already
found. Although current cultures may
insist on your competition with others,
insist on your envy and insecurity, there
is nothing for you to do but extend
compassion for yourself and others. It
isn’t easy, of course, but you deserve
that kind of peace.
Three: Simplify your life. You’ve spent
enough time with yourself to know the
truth about why you want the things that
you want. Wrestle with your desires if
you must, but never forget the things
that have truly cultivated your sense of
fulfillment. There isn’t a single object or
person that has ever brought you closer
to yourself the same way that your time
alone with your craft has. Do not isolate
and deprive yourself, but take only what
you need and do only what you must to
thrive creatively.
Four: See things as they are and
not for the potential of what they
could be. Put your glasses on so
you won’t have any excuses this
time. Let the situations, places,
and especially the people around
you, reveal who they are. It may
not be to your liking, you might
even walk away from them—do
this without judgement.
Five: Remember who you are.
name: erica dionora date: 12.02.2020
Life’s Lessons
Six: Healing is non-linear. This may
not make the process any less difficult
or bitter, but let this truth give you the
strength to face your shadows, acknowledge
your wounds, and endure
the lessons that life puts you through.
You are making progress—trust that.
Eight: Prioritizing yourself does not equate to a lack of
compassion for others. Things haven’t been easy and
I can’t promise it’ll ever be. But don’t let this harden
your heart; we are all nursing some sort of internal
damage. So find your light and share it with others—
show up for yourself and show up for others.
Seven: Listen to your body. You
have spent years sharpening
your mind, it’s only natural to
seek its counsel in all matters
of your existence. But the body
is an intelligence of its own that
must be understood and demands
to be respected. It is the
framework of communication
between the soul and the earth,
translating the memories of your
soul to share with your environment
and simultaneously interpreting
the wisdom of the world
to your innermost being. Listen
to your body, it knows more
than you think.
Serena Wu
condolences
i offer my condolences
to the internalized hatred
whispering to me
that my skin made me unworthy.
to the bitter lady
throwing dirty looks
and keeping her distance
saying our people “smelled”
to the history teacher
teaching my peers
that my culture is primitive
and full of heathens
to those who tell me
they cannot accept my differences:
i offer my condolences
because as hard as you try,
my love is more powerful than your discomfort
at seeing someone like me thrive
my skin, eyes, melanin, soul
my traditions, my future
this is who i am
and from now on
i am proud of it
- pranav brahmbhett
brahmbhatt
photo taken by alicia park
SMALL
BUSINESSES
to support
SHOP SMALL
Washington, US
YOUNY.CO
Sticker shop on Instagram and Etsy.
Mostly purposed for bullet journaling or
cute decorations.
@youny.co • etsy: younyco
HOOD FAMOUS
BAKESHOP
check them out
on instagram!
A like and a save
means the world
to them <3
Washington, US
Handmade jewlery shop with the mission
"to affirm woman of their intrinsic
worth and beauty".
@desplae • www.desplae.com
Washington, US
Casual bakeshop known for personal-sized
cheesecakes with Filipino &
Asian-Pacific flavors flavors.
@hoodfamousbakeshop
MOON RIVER
CO.
Singapore
Cute illustrator producing enamel pins.
Designs revolve mostly around kpop
with painitng commisions availble.
@moonriver.co
Oakland, CA
Fashion apparel "designed and influenced
by the Japanese-American experience".
@akashi_kama
THE GOOD
GOODS
Canada
GIKAN
Accessory shop heavily inspired the
creators' Filipino heritage, they aim to
preserve and cultivate.
@shop.gikan • www.shopgikan.com
SHOP SMALL
Toronto, CA
Baked goods (best mochi muffins in
Toronto as they claimed), and miscellaneous
boxes filled with curiosity.
@thegoodgoods.ca
ASIAN MENTAL HEALTH
STIGMA IN A TIME OF COVID
By Steve Zhang
The COVID-19 pandemic has
resulted in a sharp increase
in anti-Asian racism across
North America. In September,
NBC News reported that 1 in
4 Asian-American youths had
been a target of racially-driven
bullying over the past year.
Aside from the threats to the
physical safety of Asian people,
there are also implications
for mental well-being. Henry
Chen, a Registered Therapeutic
Counselor in Vancouver,
Canada, says being targeted
due to race can lead to a variety
of mental health issues.
“More stress, of course, is a
factor because the more that
we think about [the racism],
the more stressed we’re going
to get,” he says. “Imagine
a backpack carrying a heavy
load. If you put enough heavy
things in there and try to lift
the bag, it is eventually going
to break.”
Despite this, mental health is
a hard conversation to have
in the Asian community. Stigma
often prevents people
from openly acknowledging
their mental health struggles.
Oftentimes, people are conditioned
to respond in a way
that doesn’t help cope with
these issues. Asian people are
often told to simply “get over
it.” Chen says it can also be a
dislike of feeling vulnerable.
“I think pride is one thing,”
Chen says. “I know that around
my grandparents’ time, it was
more of an embarrassment to
have any form of psychiatric
issues than it was, for example,
to have someone break
their legs.”
For months, U.S. President
Donald Trump used racially
charged language in public to
refer to COVID-19, frequently
referring to the disease as
‘China Virus’ or ‘Kung Flu.’
Chen says this sort of targeted
language—singling out a
specific ethnicity—can have
negative impacts on someone’s
confidence and self-esteem,
even those who aren’t
Chinese.
“[That language] is giving others
a sense of acknowledgement,
saying, ‘Yes, I can also
use this,’ and that’s where the
damage comes from,” Chen
says. “You’re taking the closest
person who resembles [what
someone] thinks is responsible,
and you’re imposing that
on them.”
Chen likens the stigma to
Christmas trees, saying everyone
puts one up, but they’re
not always sure why they do.
It’s a tradition that’s passed
down and accepted.
“This is something that we
can look into breaking for the
stigma,” he says. “Ultimately,
where it comes from is unknown.
It might be something
that someone made up in the
past, or it could be something
more biased.”
Chen says the first step to
stopping stigma is helping
people better understand
what mental health is, and the
support that is available.
“It’s a lot [about] reframing
the self and self-worth versus
what others think of us,” he
says. “We do what we can—
as therapists, as counselors—
to ensure that you have the
proper support you need.
And if we can help you, we
will help you.”
“IMAGINE A BACKPACK CARRYING
A HEAVY LOAD. IF YOU PUT ENOUGH
HEAVY THINGS IN THERE AND YOU
LIFT THE BAG, IT IS EVENTUALLY
GOING TO BREAK.”
1. Make my parents proud
2. Travel to all the continents :D
3. Open my own coffee and tea shop (Meraki Cafe)
4. Be proud of myself (body and mind)
5. Get a smol tattoo
Today was a horrible day.
I overslept again and almost missed my lecture, but I made it a minute
before class started. Talk about the thrill of rushing to class ! Just
what I needed to replace my morning coffee, which I didn't have time to
get. To top it off, my stomach started growling during class. Let's just
say I was a bit hangry. So lucky Jill brought her HUGE kitkat bar to
lecture - don't know what I would've done without a bite of that.
I stopped by the coffee shop after class to grab a double shot espresso.
What can I say, I need my daily dose of caffeine to keep me a l i v e. Jill
thought the barista was pretty cute and kept bugging me to ask him for
his number. I know what you're thinking. Typical Jill. Yeah, yeah. But she
egged me on so much, when he asked me what he could get me, I replied
“your number.” Mortifying. What's worst was that he apologized and said
he had a girlfriend. So yeah, both Jill and I lost in this situation. I lost
my pride, she lost her millionth chance of finding me a boyfriend. At
least I got my coffee for free, thanks to his coworkers who absolutely
lost it laughing at my embarrassment.
nov. 24, 2020
Alright, who let me be
this dramatic. I can't stop
laughing at everything I
wrote from a year ago.
Despite the chaos of this
day, I'd honestly do it all
again if it meant I could be
with my friends, even Jill,
I guess. I'd say it was a
pretty good day afterall.
Okay, enough of that. We went to study at the library after, but even
after that double shot espresso I was falling asleep as I tried to read
my textbook. I did not have TIME to be tired - I had a midterm in three
hours. Maybe three hours wouldn't be enough anyway. I was doomed. At
that point, a short nap would have been better than trying to cram every
bit of information. But it's too late now! What's done is done. Now I just
have to wait for the terrifying Canvas notification.
The only highlight of the day was getting dinner with my friends after
the midterm, and treating ourselves for doing absolutely nothing except
being stressed. Thank you Jill for also adding unncessary stress at the
coffee shop. Of course, the only appropriate way to end the day was by
missing our bus and getting drenched in the fifteen minutes we waited
for the next one to come. At least this day was finally over now. Time
to do homework before hitting the hay.
Work in
Progress
Clarisse Lee
“What a perfect family!”
Growing up, I often heard this from friends and even strangers. I completely agreed
with them -- I had the best parents I could ask for and two younger siblings that kept
me company. We travelled the world together and made some of my most cherished
memories. People always saw us as content and happy. And though we were for many
years, they were oblivious to what was happening behind the facade of a “perfect”
family.
Though I wasn’t able to pinpoint what exactly had changed, I noticed a shift in our
family dynamic when I was 13.
I noticed my parents weren’t sleeping in the same room anymore.
I noticed my parents’ short temper.
I noticed less family outings.
I noticed a photo of another woman on my dad’s phone.
And yet, I still refused to believe that something was wrong. I cleared out any thoughts
of our family being anything other than “perfect.”
Over the next five years, I watched as my family, my very foundation, collapsed, leaving
me confused, betrayed, and in denial. After my parents separated, the “perfect”
family image was shattered. It was a sudden change I couldn’t keep up with. The relationship
between my dad and I crumbled; I struggled to hold a conversation with him
and couldn’t see him in the same light as before.
Without a father figure present in our lives, the everyday things I once took for granted
became difficult.
My little brother, doing warm-ups alone before soccer practice as other boys practiced
with their fathers.
My little sister, alone during her 5th grade project share-out since my mother was at
work.
My mother, now a single parent, juggling her full-time job with taking care of three
kids.
And me, often forcing myself to fake a smile to convince people that I was okay.
Slowly, I started realizing my life would never go back to the way things were before.
I had to take off my rose-tinted glasses, face the hardships, and stand strong.
I had to understand I couldn’t keep longing for what was already in the past.
I had to learn to accept the harsh reality and move on.
Years later, my relationship with my dad remains rocky. I still have pent-up feelings of
anger and disappointment. We are nowhere near close to how we were before. But
day by day, we’re working on slowly rebuilding the bond between us.
Sometimes I want to give up, and other times I’m determined to fix our relationship.
Many times, I think back to the happier days of a full family of five. Despite these
thoughts and feelings, I have learned and grown to understand the reality of it all - we
aren’t a perfect family, and that is okay. Things are still a work in progress - I take a
few steps forward and a few steps back, but eventually, I will get to where I need to be.
Emily Quah
DEAR Y(O)U1
You were afraid to smile
For you had squinty eyes.
You always tried to hide
For you were big in size.
Wearing boring clothes
To hide and to loathe
Your whole body and air,
Not belonging anywhere.
I am not afraid to smile
For I love my monolid eyes.
I don’t want to hide
For I found comfort in my size.
Wearing whatever I please
I now feel more at ease.
I am confident, I believe
But I had been deceived.
For I still feel small
I’m on my high and then fall.
When I look into my mirror,
I sometimes still feel bitter.
But I try to love everything
No matter what others may think.
With all my strength, I declare
Dear Yu, I belong everywhere.
1 I chose the title Dear
Y(o)u because of my Chinese
name „Yu“, so I’m addressing
myself in 3 ways in this poem.
Brigitte Gong
Life
Hi! My name is Lauren, and I’m a senior in
college. I’m majoring in Information Studies
and double-minoring in Asian American
Studies and Sustainability Studies. In
my free time, I also like singing, baking,
watching Netflix, and caring for my plants.
Since high school, I’ve had hydrocephalus,
which is the abnormal build-up of cerebrospinal
fluid in the brain. This life-threatening
condition has no cure and affects people of
all ages. It isn’t widely known either - I hadn’t
heard of it before I was diagnosed. Developing
hydrocephalus opened up a whole world
of struggles, and life is much different from
what it was before. Any symptoms I develop
are cause for concern, and I worry about how
I may be impacting my family and friends. I
also miss doing the things I was once able to do.
The year after developing hydrocephalus,
I went to my first WALK to End
Hydrocephalus in Washington, D.C.
Going to this event, meeting others with
the condition, and joining the Hydrocephalus
Association introduced me to
a supportive community that really gets
what I’m going through. I’ve led a team
of family and friends every year since
that first WALK to fundraise for research
to find a cure. I’ve also done panel discussions,
appeared in commercials, and
posted vlogs to share my experiences
and help others with hydrocephalus.
No one knows when my next surgery
will be. It’s something that my family and
I worry about since my condition could
worsen at any time without warning.
Numerous brain surgeries and long hospital
stays have also set back my education.
Classes are especially hard because
studying takes longer with my symptoms.
But I’m proud to say that I’m completing
my first semester with a full class load
this fall, which is something that I wasn’t
able to do in the last couple of years.
Even though life is harder now,
hydrocephalus hasn’t held me back from
achieving success. I’m a database engineer
on faculty research, and I’m an associate
at the 1882 Foundation, a DC-based
organization that promotes awareness of
the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act and its
continuing significance today. I’m also a
Community Network Leader for the Hydrocephalus
Association and co-lead a
support group for adults in their 20s with
hydrocephalus. We connect through
Zoom every week and host speakers,
share our experiences, and chat with
each other. Some members hadn’t met
others with hydrocephalus before joining
these calls! Since starting the group
in May, we’ve grown to include over
90 members from across the country.
In this challenging time when social distancing
is needed for safety, connecting
with others is so important. I’m excited
for the future of this group, and I’m happy
that something good has come out
of such a difficult and uncertain year.
Lauren Eng
with
Hydrocephalus
30 THINGS
ginger yifan chen
7
am was once an ungodly hour to be awake. But after a month with my
parents, it’s starting to become a habit.
There was a small park three blocks away from the house. At 7 am, the grass
was still wet with dew, but the path that surrounded it was dry. It’s where I take
my morning runs, and my mother her daily walk.
She was already there. Walking slowly, swinging her arms back and forth. I
slow down to a jog beside her. For a while, we share the path in silence.
“Tell me thirty positive things about yourself,” she says.
The first thought that rose up is how much I would rather run another lap. But
the stitch in my side forced me to stay.
“I can’t think of thirty things.”
“Try.”
“How about ten?”
I didn’t want to think of ten. Not even one. All I could think of were the years
before I went to college. I had spent them hiding all the things I cared about,
and then I moved 300 miles away on purpose.
“I can easily think of thirty things I appreciate about myself,” she says.
“Okay.”
I do not have a single memory of my mother telling me that she was proud of
me. This was not a solid thought, but rather a wisp. Something thin and
translucent that always floated in the back of my mind.
“I am still struggling to come up with thirty things I admire about your father,
but we’re working on it. Thirty things about you. Start now.”
It takes me nearly another lap to begin.
“I’m hardworking,” I tell her. She nods.
We walk in silence together.
“I’m creative...”
“Good,” she says.
“I’m…”
It takes another three laps for me to get to twelve. Twelve compliments. From me, to me.
“That’s all I’ve got.”
My mother has been counting on her fingers to keep track. “Really? That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
She extends another finger, “Thirteen. You’re a good judge of character.”
“Fourteen...”
Fifteen. Sixteen. And so on until thirty. I lose track of how many laps we walked.
“You need to keep complimenting yourself,” she says, “When you come out here in the
morning, you need to praise yourself while you run.”
“Okay.”
“There’s a lot of things you want to do, I know. But you need to take care of yourself first,
understand?”
“Okay.”
“Daughter, you need to love yourself.”
I stop walking.
My mother has told me ‘I love you’. But compared to this, ‘I love you’ was
inconsequential. ‘I love you’ were words tossed at me at the end of a phone call or before
I left the house for work. This is something I can’t ignore.
I didn’t want to cry in a public park, but I also knew that I couldn’t take another step. So I
just didn’t move.
She stops too. “What’s happening? What is it?” she asks, leaning down to examine my
face.
“You’ve…”
It takes effort to get the words out. It has always taken effort to get the words out.
“You’ve never told me that you were proud.”
“Oh,” she says, and wraps her arms around me gently.
And I can’t stop it now, a sob comes out of me and I lean my head into her shoulder. For
a long moment, we stand like this. Her holding me like I was fragile and young again.
Me trying to let my tears drip onto the ground rather than into her cardigan.
“We’ve always been proud. You were just never listening.”
“But I don’t remember,” I tell her.
“You were focused on something else. Something far away.”
I finally let my hands reach up and gently grasp her shoulders.
“Were you upset? That I left?”
“Yes. But it was what you wanted to do.”
“Did I make you unhappy?”
“No. It was for the best, in the end.”
I’m not crying much anymore, but I don’t move yet. All I do is let go of her.
“Do you want to hear thirty things that I’m proud about myself?” she asks.
“Okay.”
I laugh and wipe away my tears. We start walking again.
SMALL
BUSINESSES
to support
SHOP SMALL
Washington, US
YOUNY.CO
Sticker shop on Instagram and Etsy.
Mostly purposed for bullet journaling or
cute decorations.
@youny.co • etsy: younyco
HOOD FAMOUS
BAKESHOP
check them out
on instagram!
A like and a save
means the world
to them <3
Washington, US
Handmade jewlery shop with the mission
"to affirm woman of their intrinsic
worth and beauty".
@desplae • www.desplae.com
Washington, US
Casual bakeshop known for personal-sized
cheesecakes with Filipino &
Asian-Pacific flavors flavors.
@hoodfamousbakeshop
MOON RIVER
CO.
Singapore
Cute illustrator producing enamel pins.
Designs revolve mostly around kpop
with painitng commisions availble.
@moonriver.co
Oakland, CA
Fashion apparel "designed and influenced
by the Japanese-American experience".
@akashi_kama
THE GOOD
GOODS
Canada
GIKAN
Accessory shop heavily inspired the
creators' Filipino heritage, they aim to
preserve and cultivate.
@shop.gikan • www.shopgikan.com
SHOP SMALL
Toronto, CA
Baked goods (best mochi muffins in
Toronto as they claimed), and miscellaneous
boxes filled with curiosity.
@thegoodgoods.ca
family
f
amily
Photos by Ryan Sun
A Memoir
i find myself after
each memory is made,
willing myself to hold on to it.
tighter and
tighter, forcing my brain to
relive it inside my head.
days pass and years go on, loosening
my grasp on my memories,
my mind storing each memory away
never to be seen, only
told that it did happen.
faces and words are warped and
never the same,
left in fragments of glass that reflect only parts of
my memory. some reflect
nothing after being worn and burned
like the tape of an
old film used too frequently,
burning at the seams.
i have no memories, only
the memory of being told and
holding on tight.
Anika Molino
Celine Lee
aerielle ong
Design by Cami Kuruma
@marikuruko
LETTING GO TO THE UNKNOWN
I closed the car door shut
and glanced one last time as the car drove off.
What once filled me with emotions,
made me laugh, mad, love, doubt
was leaving.
I couldn’t quite grasp it.
I stood there in the middle of the road
staring at the blank air.
What was I to do…
with nothing left?
Maybe, just maybe
it’d drive back
forgetting a piece of me to take.
No, I was empty
but ready to be filled in time.
It was quiet
so somber but melancholic.
The light slowly arose
and my feet finally took flight
Moving me to the direction unknown.
- AM
윗물이 맑아야
아랫물이 맑다
“The downstream water can only be clean if
the up-stream water is clean.”
This was the Korean proverb that constantly
weighed me down. As the oldest child of the
family, I was always expected to be the golden
child. I was told to excel academically and be a
good role model so my younger brother and
cousins could follow my footsteps.
All throughout high school, I studied for the A
that was expected of me. However, reality was
harsher than expected, and the college I ended
up in didn’t satisfy me. I felt as if I hadn’t
lived up to my family’s expectations. I
completed my first year of college,
embarrassed and reluctant to tell people where
I attended college. However, as I found lifelong
friends, and as the burden from my family
was relieved from the 30 minute distance
between us, I believed that I had grown. That I
had gotten over obsessing about the school’s
prestige. How foolish I was.
After hearing a loud ding, I checked my phone
to see a notification from my cousin. She was a
year younger than me and known to be less
academically driven. The moment I opened her
message my heart fell. She had gotten off the
waitlist for my school. As I read the text, my
high school career flashed through my eyes.
What did I work for? Why did I try so hard
when I would end up at the same school as her?
I couldn’t bring myself to say “Congrats!” but
I also hated how I couldn’t be happy for her.
The next few days were filled with tears and
long conversations with my friends. Their
comforting words only helped for a moment,
and I quickly went back to my selfdeprecating
thoughts. It was not until a call
from my Grandmother that I was able to get
to where I am now. She had heard what had
happened and immediately comforted me with
her sweet words. That no matter what, she
knew of the hard work I had put in and was
proud of me. That she loved me. How could
those simple words that I had heard over and
over again from my friends be so different
coming from her? All of my hard work felt
justified, not from the prestige of my
college, but from those sweet words of hers.
Now in my second year of college, I would be
lying if I said that I was completely over
“Asian standards” and its focus on college
name and prestige. I don’t know when I will.
However, I do know that I have changed. The
Korean proverb that once held me down now
provides a different meaning for me. It isn’t
the results but the hard work and ethics that
I wish to pass down. I am slowly freeing
myself from the grips of these expectations
that have burdened me. I am turning the
pages to the next chapter of my life.
ESTHER KIM
“If held down, I cannot grow.
To be more, I must let go.”
brandon eng
Embracing Change
by rebecca yong
change is inevitable.
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accepting and embracing change is one of the most important ingredients
for self-growth, but this can undeniably be challenging, especially
when it comes to changes in self. when we view changes as compromising,
we condition ourselves to be unwelcome to changes completely.
how can we overcome this? here are some steps you can take to embrace
your ever-changing nature.
seek out new perspectives
learn to look at situations from a different point of view. while this can
be difficult, actively search out new possibilities and try things differently.
listen to opinions and arguments that you previously may not have been
receptive to.
understand that everyone else is undergoing changes too
people may not always respond the way you expect them to; aspects of
their personalities which you had been accustomed to may also change.
learn to embrace their changes as well.
view changes positively
it is natural to react to changes negatively. however, accepting and
adapting is so much more beneficial. having a positive attitude towards
change will allow you to learn and grow more.
do not cling to fixed mindsets, personality traits, etc.
the way we think and act, our interests and hobbies - they make you,
you. these are what encompasses our personality and the way we view
ourselves. naturally, they are subject to change. when you experience
shifts in these aspects that you had grown comfortable with, learn to
embrace and nurture them.
be kind to yourself
lastly, the most important thing is to be understanding of your own flaws
and compassionate to yourself... practice non-judgment and self-love
more often.
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whatever ‘crowded’ means is etched onto this floor,
stirred senseless by feet & wayward wheels,
i stand, cardboard flimsy in my hand, your name
etched, your name stuck under my tongue like a pebble
&
this is an in-between space, not a step
into another country yet,
but we are close and will be closer still,
only a few more protocols left,
once we exchange our currency, our tongues,
& you are moving
& i am moving
whatever ‘crowded’ means,
you are the stillness in the center, the gravity pull,
the frayed end to a thread of fate unspooling,
the thin red that leads into a black hole
which
all
else
orbits around,
and of course,
i will be
pulled
towards
you.
G i n g e r Y i f a n C h e n
i ‘M holding up a sign
for you a t
a regional transpor t
center
photo by brandon eng
forw
moving
Alicia Park
ard
by Jasmine Francoeur
I’m moving forward, I’m sure of it now,
Or at least I’m trying to remind myself of that;
That each breath I breathe in this moment doesn’t hurt as much,
That noticing the sun has risen and looks pretty from her place up in the sky,
That smiling slightly, even just briefly, at the last autumn leaf falling quietly,
Gives me some comfort that I’m here,
That there’s some bliss in the present moment.
It’s so easy to look back and notice the ice caps in your ocean,
And scorn and feel hurt that they all blocked your ship
From moving more easily and steady in its path,
When beneath those white, snowy floes
There was an iceberg that you could never see;
You could not understand in the present moments
The entire meaning of the reason for those small struggles,
Or that in the end they brought you somewhere,
Where you’re still breathing and noticing those small, quiet pleasures
That sweetens even the hardest days.
o
u
r
Pranav Brahmbhatt
Adeline Yu
Aerielle Ong
Emily Quah
t
e
a
m
Emma Yang
Sara Lowe
Serena Wu
Theresa Lee
Shivani Manohar
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