June 20, 2009

Life After Graduation

I’ve been watching commencement speeches on YouTube.  Eric Schmidt of Google.  Jodie FosterEllen DeGeneresStephen ColbertBarack Obama.  John Legend.

What I realized is that the power of the individual, the determination, the reserve are beyond any education level or intelligence.  Their speeches may be good (or not so good), but what differentiates them is their message.  John Legend’s stuck me the most.  perhaps it’s his role in pop culture, or simply that he’s so cute.  But I doubt that.  Graduating a mere eight years before me  from Penn, he’s already achieved so much.  With an educated mind and a pure soul.  He’s conscious.  Better yet, he’s awake with life.  he took what Penn had to offer and went beyond it.  I wonder how many of my fellow classmates have done the same.

To a certain extent, his accomplishments drastically trumps my own and makes me question what I’ve been doing the past three year.  Yet, I don’t feel like I’ve mistepped in life.  I believe my journey is still beginning (God willing).  he, along with the other speakers, inspire me to be bigger than myself.  And more this year than any other, challenges us to be truthful, socially conscious and ultimately, the start of a whole new revolution.  Bill Clinton called it “interdependence” in his 2006 commencement speech.  Eric Schmidt admitted it to the power of information and technology (and its limitations of finding ourselves).  John Legend simpled call it “soul” and “truth.”  But within all those contexts, our united goal has shifted hopefully shifted from ‘me’ to ‘we.’  From personal accomplishments to social responsibilities.  And that we as citizens of this generation and this would can and must effect change.  It doesn’t matter if we went to Penn or Yale or Arizona State or nowhere at all.  If we have the will to dream (not wish, via Dolly Parton), the cojones to follow through and the ability to persevere against those who oppose us, we will in fact succeed.

More and more, I keep hearing that mistakes are good.  Maybe it’s a new generational thing.  maybe it’s my coming-of-age.  The conclusion still stands. It reveals our ’self’ and it teaches us to be better, to do better.

I remember a leadership retreat that I went to in high school.  I spent the whole weekend sketching trees instead of interacting with other high schoolers.  Two things cling to my memory.  One: I’m a better leader from behind.  I work well with decision-making and taking charge through times of crisis, through mounds of information and through my pure intuition.  Not a spokesperson, I work better with deciphering context and drawing broad conclusions.  My style is more collaboration than competition (perhaps the reason my GPA suffered under Wharton’s infamous bell curve).  Second: I distinctly recall on of the prominent Texas businessmen telling us that we want to have as little experience as possible.  Experience equates to failure, and we ought to have as little of that as possible.  I see now the blunder in his words.

We cannot succeed without failure.  And if we do, that’s not success.  That’s luck.

I want to insert a brief reminder to myself: if I’m ever discouraged or afraid to face the future unknowns, I should simply YouTube these commencement speeches.  To believe in my own power and confidence and self.  To revel in my unknowing instead of fear it, and to realize a “dao” will reveal itself.  To look forward to the future.  To know that if I am setting myself up with the right tools, failure is only temporary.

June 11, 2009

Gender and Race II

It’s hard to unknow what you already know.

-I’m not entirely sure of the source

So sad that after decades of declared feminism and the fact that women aren’t objects, we still see that well an alive in pop culture.

Take Angels and Demons for example. Dan Brown clearly reinforces the stereotype of Robert Langdon, a prominent symbologist and the very feminine Victoria. She’s not what most of us would imagine as a physicist and in reality is not so.  She overly sexed to produce an interesting dynamic in an otherwise academic mystery novel. And that seems to be her only purpose.

Evolutionary biology would infer that men are more attracted to physically find women, while women just want men to be able to provide. However, the society clearly dictates otherwise. Women are able to provide for themselves and their offspring without the involvement men ( even if this fact is heavily debated).  So why are we still buying into a society that reinforces the White patriarchal stereotype. As we move into future generations of non-race, the inherent White patriarch is still embedded in our society. And even if move beyond it, our subconscious still has an effect. Can we really move beyond race and gender, if white, whether the symbolism of the color or the race, and male dominated societies still remain in our collective views?

I’m not sure, but race and gender are certainly not the moot issue that pop culture dictates it should be. Clearly it’s still prevalent in our culture.

June 11, 2009

Gender and Race I

Recently, I read the series of essays in Outlaw Culture by Bell Hooks.  It astonished me.  Opened my mind, so to speak.

My friend Joshua Hooper is a graphic artist.  His work is pretty freaking sweet. But I noticed in one of his illustrations, that of a black girl (of if you prefer African American woman), was considerably lighter than her real pictures.  When asked, he simply responded that it was the lighting. She’s glamorous and stunning in both depictions, but why is there a differential in terms of color?

I also noticed this throughout mainstream culture.  Even when Tyra Banks was touting her involvement in an Ebony issue featuring the different shades of beautiful black women, the ‘lighting’ made all the models look well… light skinned.  And the only lighting that seems to reflect the beautiful glow of a black woman were in stereotyped editorials and culture shots of traditional “African women.” Magazines or pictures depicting exoticism.  Gorgeous?  Yes.  But fetishizing as well?

Hooks discusses race, sexuality and gender in her esssay “Power to the Pussy,” stating:

Madonna’s [the famouse artist] text constructs a narrative of pure white womanhood contaminated by contact with the colored ‘other.’ It would be easy to dismiss this construction as merely playful if it were not so consistedn through Sex… The structure of [the] narrative suggests that it… appeals directly to white supremacist sexual fantasies.”

Sure this essay was written in the 80s, and we’re fast approaching the second decade of the 3rd millenium.  But is this professional ‘lighting’ suitable only for the portrayal of white women?  Another piece of the underlying evidence of the dominant white patriarchy that we live in?

If so, why are we, as consumers, as people, and as conscious citizens, buying into it?  How do we change this paradigm that exists in our subconscious?  What are the consequences if we don’t?

May 26, 2009

Wisdom

I’ve been out a lot lately.  Getting involved.  Partying.  Having loads of fun.

I suppose there’s some sort of wisdom to in part.  How to achieve life’s goals while having fun and what not.  Someone during Wharton’s Leadership in the business program told me that I should earn money, so I can pursue ‘my real hobbies’ when I have money.  Social entrepreneurs have told me that doing what I believe will earn me enough money.

I say: there is no life advice.  We’re all fucking up in our own way.  So go out there and do whatever pleases you.  See where it takes you.  There is no ‘wrong step’ or ‘pinacle of your life.’

Just fucking do it already.  See where it takes you.  Then change appropriately.

Oh… and have fun!  That’s above all.

May 18, 2009

On My Own

It’s been a few weeks since I last blogged.  Life has been pretty busy, and I’m so excited about meeting new friends and forging new bonds.

I’ve realized through these few weeks (months) that I’m pretty awesome.  It’s taken a while, but I’m getting comfortable in my own skin.  I love the friends.  Thanks, J, M and K , for being there for me.

But… and it’s taken me a long time to realize this… I’m enough.  I’m happy with where I am in my life.  I’m stoked about where I’m heading.  Life is joyous! Hahaha… and I can’t wait to see where the road will take me.

I’m pretty much updating through Facebook and posting lots of pictures of my adventures.

So here’s to life! To new adventures and to stand fierce, on my own!

Hahahaha! :-D

May 7, 2009

Wowza

I’ve been blogging for a LONG LONG time… just read through some of my entries from Xanga, LiveJournal, Blogger and MySpace.

Here’s a spoken word poem I penned a few years ago (I’d forgotten that I can write):

How Platonian of You
the cycles of conversations torment my mind, belying some wildly insane need i seem to have as a woman
for wanting simple things like your attention or you time
hoping that by being patient enough, sexy enough, smart enough, giving enough, you will somehow willingly beckon for me
but you don’t

and I am left birthing these swirls of deductive reasonings, trying to inter-weave your and my premises into some underlying conclusion
fueled by our emotions and shared with no one else
yet I am left in some eye of the storm with too many opinions and this huge disparity between what I want and what you want

frustrated by your complacent eyes, your relaxed fingertips, never eager to reach out
I gave up
I stopped asking questions and accepted you as assumed because questions asked never led to a straight answer
simply an elaborate jumble of this and that to be revised, corrected, and then completely denied at some later point
I guess I wrongly assumed that Sunday and Thursday are simply days in the week
separately only by name and followed usually by work
so I assumed that my bed is ours as much as your bed is ours
I assumed wrong
I poked wrong
I spoke out wrong

supposedly…

so I gathered my things and gave you back your space
drove away and left you to your games
wrote this note and tried to shut my mind of you

not because I was pissed
because I was
but because you were cold
because you were

and after all the swirls of talks, losing myself to ambiguity and indecisiveness
asking questions without answers
and being asked to ask questions anyway
i am at a loss

you tell me what you want
because I don’t know anymore

April 25, 2009

Joyeux Anniversaire, Mon Petit Coeur!

It’s 11:58pm on April 25th.  Technically, it’s still today… and my kitteh officially turned one (1) today!

Happy Birthday, Mon Petit Coeur!

The only pets I’ve owned before her were some a non-edible pepper plant, a fortune tree, three cacti (two of which died due to *cough cough* malnourishment) and 27 aloe plants.  You may ask, how do you kill a cactus?  Well, it’s pretty simple.

Leave it behind a photo frame.  Forget that you had it.  Try to find it two months later.  Forget about that.  Then, after another month, remember that you put it behind the photo frame and find out that the plant had rotted from the inside out becoming one mushy mess.  Rinse and repeat (yeah, it happened twice).

Thankfully, my aloe plant fared better and was able to have babies… 26 of which I gave away.  And when I graduated college, my friend, Tony, took my aloe plant in and apparently, it’s been thriving under his fluorescent lights ever since.

But I digress.  Last year, as part of my birthday present, I gave myself one piercing and one kitteh.  Her original name was Rosalina, but I decided to name her Mon Petit Coeur instead.

Growing up, my parents used to call me “xiao ju gan,” which translated directly into English means “my little/dear pig’s liver.”  Yeah, it doesn’t sound as pleasant with the direct translation.   I did want to stick with the theme of organs, and I love pet names with a non-English flare.  Hence, “Mon Petit Coeur.”

Sometimes, Mona.  Usually, fattie or babeh.  But officially Mon Petit Coeur.  The gals at the East Bay SPCA have a lovely time trying to pronouce it, whenever I have to get her a health certificate to fly.

She’s officially been with me for 10 months.  And I’m proud to say… she’s not dead! (whoohoo!)

I have absolutely loved being with her.  She’s so playful around me and lets me make weird faces (see below) all the time.  Sometimes, she’s a bit shy around strangers, except Ty, since he was there when I got her.  But mostly, she’s provided endless entertainment.  She’s even been good enough not to whine (too much) during the two flights to and from Houston.  My parents love her… to a point of ignoring me.  And she’s spoiled enough to have two sets of litter boxes, dish bowls and food choices in both cities.  I even had to return 48 cases of cat food because ‘it didn’t conform to her high standards of taste.’

In the last 10 months, I’ve started to act more like a mommy.  I’ve made sure she’s fed every night (even that one time I got home really late and completely sober… and fed her out of the can instead of her regular food dish). If you read my Tumblr at all, you’ll periodically see  pictures of fattie, usually asleep, since I blog very late.

She’s comforted me when I’ve cried, by tip toeing up to me with her huge saucer eyes and snuggling in my arms.  When I’m working in the living room until 4am, she’s right there with me, curled in a ball and napping until I’ve showered and brought her to bed.  In the morning, she’s usually on the bed, at my feet, or if I sleep in, she’ll step gently over my body and sniff my nose.  Those times are the best.  There’s nothing quite as cute as being woken up by a bundle of fur and some inquisitive sniffing.

As some of you know, last month, her foot got caught between the foot board and my window sill, when I was trying to pick her up (her feet dangled more than usual and I underestimated the height).  She bit me the full quarter inch of her incisors and completely scarred my hands.  Both my hands were immobile for over a week.  But as I was luring her out from under the couch, my palm and fingers still bleeding into the bandage, something about her look told me exactly how guilty she felt.  People say that they can communicate with their cats.  It’s somewhat true.  (Okay, I have no idea what she wants when she’s just looking at me vacantly with the huge eyes that I would totally love to have.  However, in this case, the body language was clear.)

We’re a team.  We support each other.  We play together, and yes, sometimes we fight together.  Mon Petit Coeur really is my little heart.  I wouldn’t trade her for anything, and with her holistic, organic diet, I’m hoping she’ll be with me for a long long time.

April 23, 2009

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I understand appealing to emotions, but why appeal with this picture?

I understand appealing to emotions, but why appeal with this picture?

I’ve always wanted to join the Peace Corps and fight poverty and corruption on the ground level.  It’s not out of fear that I’ve hesitated.  Fear of seeing so much suffering, danger of being captured as an American aid worker or loneliness in such a huge change in lifestyle.  I have great admiration for those who do step out of their environment to help others.

I just don’t necessarily believe that aid workers are doing much long term good. Most of the relief that the NGOs are delivering tend to be short term.  Of course, children need immediate vaccination, and northern countries of Sub-Saharan Africa need food and shelter to survive through the civil wars and food shortages. But how much are the NGOs providing in terms of long term industrial development? Infrastructure building? Skills training and education? Sometimes, it seems that major US and Chinese corporations are doing more in road and communications development than any nonprofit agency.  Yes, they’re doing it for selfish reasons but what lovely side effects.

At the end of the day, I personally feel like such volunteerism leads more to egotistical superiority than any sustainable development for the people I could have helped.

I’ve left my comfortable life to live in a mosquito infested village, helping vaccinate people against malaria and educating women about HIV prevention.  What have you done lately?

Or this picture...

Or this picture...

Well, yes, you have been altruistic/self-sacrificing to help those in need.  But what happens to them after you leave?  Are you going to continue keeping in touch with the families you’ve aided?  What will they do if someone doesn ‘t come to replace your position?

The process just seems so convoluted.  You join the Peace Corps and think you’re aiding some poor bloke in Ethiopia or Malaysia or Nicaragua (not that there aren’t programs in more developed nations).  The NGOs operate the best they can within the web of political agendas.  Developing nations are struggling to provide the basic services, while fighting guerilla movements/militants, debt/interest, corruption and a whole host of other problems.  The guerilla warriors are revelling in their power and not at all helping ‘those they represent.’ OECDs are lending money to these nations with strict stipulations that don’t lead to sustainable development.  All the while, they’re making money off incredible loans and interest rates.

Conclusion: the people who really need aid are fucked.  They don’t have a voice, and all the other parties can’t get on the same page.  And now with a global recession and OECDs worrying about their own debt and development problems, who’s going to think about the starving and dying in Kenya, Brasil or Kyrgyzstan?

I mean our Salvation Army and Goodwill donations have actually dessimated the textile industry in Zambia.  How fucked up is that?

How do we get out of this vicious cycle?  How do we focus on long term development, education and job training instead of the basic necessities of food, vaccination and water?  What can I do to form a better solution?

And not more images like this?

And not more images like this?

April 21, 2009

Oh, My Eyes!

So many movies coming out, when will I have time to watch it all?!

Movie watching comes in phases for me.  That’s why I choose Blockbuster over Netflix.  I can’t deal with the pressure of having to watch movies, so I can maximize my monthly subscription… there’s enough guilt over not getting my money’s worth for my 24 Hour Fitness membership (at the current pace, I’m spending about $50/visit).

The summer blockbusters are coming up, there are still a few movies I want to knock off my list before I have to wait for the DVD version.

1. Disney’s Earth

It opens tomorrow.  Following the BBC’s Planet Earth, I want to see more spectacular shots of nature.  The close-ups.  The story line.  And yes, even the fact that they’ll plant a tree for every ticket sold.  Sure, it’s a marketing gimmick, but in this case, I’ll over look that the end justifies the means.

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2. The Soloist

This looks so compelling, and having studied the double bass, piano and ballet at a child, I’m totally into music and dance movies.  Unlike Stomp the Yard (exhilarating and full of juicy abs as it is), Jamie and Robert are great actors, who can bring a soulful drama with an underlying root of classical music.

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3. Monster’s vs. Aliens

This reminds me of Monster’s Inc.  ‘nough said!

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4. Crank: High Voltage

This movie just seems crazy to me.  I went to see the first Crank as a first date at this beautiful, old theater in the South Bay with a huge chandelier.  Crank, itself, reminds me of the male version of The Sweetest Thing.  A bit hectic.  Way the fuck out there.  Seizure inducing.  I’m taking this chance to turn off my brain and taking a shot for every time Jason gets punched.

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5. Up

Besides the fact that I love everything Pixar makes (including all the amazing shorts), I’ve been drooling over this movie since they releases a short trailer a year ago just with balloons.  I have no idea what the premise is.  Something about a old guy who’s tired of society and his boy scouts, optimistic boy escape the city life to a wondrous new world in the clouds… or something like that. :-D

Can’t wait!

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I may need a stronger contact subscription soon. :)

April 20, 2009

Not Past or Future. Just Now.

My friend, sexy beast, a.k.a. Joshua Hooper, introduced me to The Power of Now a while ago.  I discounted it as new age psycho babel.

But then I remembered Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation.  The tapes she listened to, while in that hotel room, while waiting for her husband.

Eckart Tolle speaks very slowly.  The inflections in his voice are slight.  Almost monotonous.  Calming.

I yawned.

I listened.

My ego flinched.  It rationalized that this book is bunk.  How can someone live in the present?  What about planning?  How do you disregard nurture and identity in everyday life?  We’re all the same?  How do you distinguish ourselves, if not for our achievements, our status, our looks and everything around us?  This is bunk.

Without the ego, there would be no self consciousness, no snobbishness. Much like great advice on how to be social, Eckart asks me to leave my ego at the door.  Except this door isn’t just the entrance to a tech conference or some networking event.

Emotionally, I can relate to Charlotte (Scarlett).  Young.  Smart.  And an overuse of “potential” when adults talk about me.

It’s an interesting paradigm.  The Power of Now.  It’s a door you have to walk through.