JUN’ 20

1

 Can I bend your ear a little about turning 36 today?

I have for some time now felt somewhat ageless. Do you know what I mean? 

The difference between how I felt as a 35 year-old versus how I feel as a 36 year-old seems negligible. It's as though, at some point, my soul achieved gravity, like a new planet, through the accretion of life experiences (instead of cosmic dust). Enough to exert my own pull- drawing towards myself the things that have come to matter most to me. And, so, though the universe is constantly changing, expanding, etc. and I am still circling the sun, I feel quite grounded in who I am and what I am about.

I remember a time when this was not the case.

Growing up in San Francisco in the 80’s and 90’s, I was taught the triumphalist narrative of American history. I believed that, while our union was imperfect, we were consistently and constantly making progress. As a first generation Asian American, I leaned into the “model minority” myth. In a “color-blind” world, I could not see how systemic racism gave lie to the American Dream. I could not see how I benefited from colorism. I grew up embarrassed of who I was but I also shamelessly traded on Asian stereotypes to make the system benefit me. 

For years, I have been doing the work of re-educating myself. I know now that the story of America begins with the expropriation and genocide of Native/Indigenous Americans. That it relied upon the institution of slavery to establish its independence and growth. How it continues to oppress black people and other minorities. I know now that the fortunes of so few rest heavily on privilege and that the misfortunes of many are inextricably linked to systemic racism. I have known all of this for some time and, yet, I didn’t feel personally afraid until, at the outset of this pandemic, I witnessed how easily my fellow Americans descended into xenophobia against people of Asian descent. Now, I am afraid, for myself and my daughter. Yes, even here. And, I know now that unless we work to make the promise of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” equally accessible to all, the peace and security that those of us with privilege enjoy now is in constant danger.

I have been following the protests around the country sparked by the murder of George Floyd by police in Minnesota. Whatever fear, anger, grief, and weariness I feel must pale in comparison to the experience of our fellow black Americans. I am far from knowing everything I should know but I can no longer sit on the sidelines

The following quotation by Elie Wiesel has been at the forefront of my mind lately:

The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.

I could make another donation in support of black organizations working for justice. But, this time, I want to do something that invites broader engagement with my family, friends, and community. To this end, I have started a virtual bake sale auction and will donate all proceeds to Campaign Zero. If you’re curious to see what it looks like, you can find me on Instagram. My account has been made public for the duration of the bake sale.

And, if you are wondering, "Why a bake sale?" The answer is simple. I am not a lawyer, politician, or a cop. I cannot mount a legal defense or challenge, propose and pass legislation, or work to change police culture from the inside. I am a baker (and ice cream maker). For me, baking is caring- from deciding what to make, to selecting my ingredients, and making it beautiful. This is my way of leveraging my skills in service of a righteous and necessary cause.