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Sinophobia to Aesthetic: My Complicated Hope
Written by Jodie Li Growing up, I always stood my ground, proud to be Asian, proud to be Chinese. Even in elementary school, a time when many Asian American kids felt embarrassed by their lunches, their backgrounds, or their features, I had a strong joy associated with my background. I thank my parents for that. They filled my childhood with stories, traditions, and explanations of all the amazing things about my Chinese heritage. They planted a pride in me that no one or any comment could make me feel ashamed. That pride followed me through middle school, through high school, and even in a time where people were scared to…
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The Extra Trip
Written by Sophia Kim Grocery shopping with my mom has always been a memorable experience, often taking a lot out of the day because of the lack of accessibility for Asian produce and ingredients. Our weekly decision was between driving all the way to PA to the nearest H Mart and just going to Acme. This choice between comfort and convenience shouldn’t have to weigh on anyone’s mind and is a prevalent issue for people across many races. Personally, we would want to go to Hmart to be able to make and enjoy dishes that my parents grew up with, but most times we would just cave and get food…
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Food Is Love, How We Show We Care
Written by Francesca Tero A year ago, I wrote an article on the AAPC blog showcasing my mother’s best homemade meals. I shared my favorite dishes from my mom’s catering business, as well as the more nostalgic meals she would make just for me. However, I may have left out some details underneath the glamour. Back when I was in high school, my mom’s business was just starting up. I still remember the chaos of the first day working for her. Since it was her first time, we didn’t realize how many orders and deliveries she had actually committed to until we were in too deep. As you can guess,…
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“I Love You” in a Language My Parents Could Speak
Written by Jodie Li “I love you.” Three words that, for many Asian Americans, aren’t a daily reassurance but almost a shock to hear. If I heard those words from my parents, I’d honestly be worried something bad had happened. But not hearing “I love you” doesn’t mean love isn’t there. Many Asian immigrants grew up in cultures where words of affirmation weren’t the norm. Love was shown, not said. It’s like speaking different languages; you wouldn’t expect someone to understand you if you only spoke yours and never tried to learn theirs. The same goes for love. I’ve learned to listen for “I love you” in the language my…
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Lunar New Year, Lunar Nostalgia: How My Family Celebrates
Written by Will Chen Lunar New Year is one of my favorite holidays because its themes center on renewal, family, fortune, and prosperity. Each year, my family hosts a gathering and prepares a wide variety of Chinese dishes for everyone to enjoy. Cousins, aunts, and uncles come together to catch up and share updates about their lives. This sense of connection and togetherness is what makes me look forward to Lunar New Year each year. Traditional Lunar New Year Foods: One of my favorite dishes that my parents prepare each year is Cantonese-style ginger scallion lobster. This dish highlights the natural sweetness of lobster, enhanced by ginger and scallions that…
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How the Holidays Have Changed
Written by Mark Arranguez Each year, as the Christmas season approaches, my family would set aside a weekend to bring decorations down from the attic, adorn our tree, and fill each room with red, green, and gold. Over time, however, the help behind that tradition has dwindled. Early on, my dad limited himself to only the heavy lifting due to a “lack of creative vision.” In 2018, my brother began college, and the decorating fell to my mom and me. Then, when I began college in 2022, decorating became a chore to have to squeeze into Thanksgiving Break. As my on-campus responsibilities grew, I began to wish that when I…
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Chocolate Meat
Written by Micah Dulos Standing on my tippy toes, I’d stand near my mom as her arm stirred a wooden spoon back and forth. Seven-year-old me was always piqued in interest by her cooking, at the time believing it was pure magic—like how Santa Claus always found a way into our house to eat our cookies from time to time. She would smile and tip the pot just a bit to show me. It was an opaque, brown—almost black—sauce that covered small bits of what looked to be meat. Its aroma—a warming, musky scent with hints of vinegar and slow-cooked pork—filled the air. It wasn’t a sour and almost spicy…
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Holiday Joy, Cultural Tension
Written by Will Chen As a Chinese-American, I often feel left out during the holiday season. Christmas is many people’s favorite holiday and the one they look forward to the most. However, as a Buddhist, my family did not celebrate Christmas. When I would come back from winter breaks as a child, all my friends would be immersed in conversations about the gifts they received, while I listened from the sidelines, unable to chime in. My house during the holidays would look the same as usual. In a neighborhood full of bright lights, my house would be the only one that remained undecorated. Not celebrating Christmas as a child wasn’t…
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Silent Thanks: Unspoken Ways Asian Families Show Appreciation
Written by Asmi Chinauriya Asian households are known to be strict, and the children are known to be disciplined from a young age. Many Asian children don’t learn to show their appreciation for things from a young age because they never had anyone to teach them. Though the parents do a wonderful job teaching their children how to respect others and how to act in public, they often forget to teach them how to show their appreciation. Does this mean that no one in an Asian household shows appreciation? Absolutely not. It means that it just may not be in the way that many people around the world are used…
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Passing the Torch: Family Traditions I Continue to Uphold
Written by Francesca Tero My family has been at the heart of my earliest memories, shaping the traditions that have formed my strongest opinions and values. Every June during my most formative years, I would stand on stage to perform at an annual vocal recital in front of my entire community. This included my peers, teachers, various members of the church at which the recitals were always held, but most importantly, my parents, sister, cousins, Ninongs, and Ninangs, occupying a row of their own. Out of all of the people in the crowd, this was the only row whose eyes made me nervous. I remember also feeling shy at the…
