Category Archives: this i believe

We are all in this

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**The following is a repost from Martin Luther King Day, 2010**

Mr. Monk, my 7-year-going-on-50-old child, asked me last Friday at dinner,

“Mom, is it true that you would not be here if Martin Luther King did not give THAT speech?”

I was caught by surprise, I’ll be completely honest. Although I understand the impact Dr. King’s speech has had on the American history, culture and psyche, it has never occurred to me that what Dr. King said from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on August 23, 1963 would have material effect on my personal fate. After all, I was not even born then in 1963. What’s more, I was born in Taipei and grew up there and did not make my way to the U.S. until 1993.

I looked at my husband, and although he looked as puzzled as I was, he did give me the “a-ha” look that confirmed what was racing through my mind. Mr. Monk was right.

The Chinese Exclusion Act, a federal law enacted in 1882, was not repealed until 1943 (China was, after all, an ally during WWII…) when Chinese already residing in the U.S. were permitted to become naturalized citizens. However, it was not until the Immigration Act in 1965 when the federal law in the U.S. was relaxed enough to allow large number of immigrants, especially from the non-European parts of the world (contrary to the belief by the politicians at that time, I am sorry to point this out), to enter the country legally. The Civil Rights Movement led by Dr. King in the 1960s opened the eyes of many Americans to the rampant racism permeating the country and therefore made the passage of the Immigration Act even thinkable.

“You are right. It is possible that Mommy would not have been allowed to enter this country if the Civil Rights Movement had never happened.”

As I looked at Mr. Monk, his beautiful face, wondering what was inside that little head of his, it came to me: And there was the laws against interracial marriages!

Anti-miscegenation laws were not eradicated completely from the U.S. until 1967. As a matter of fact, as recently as in October 2009, a Justice of the Peace in Louisiana refused to officiate the civil wedding of an interracial couple, citing his concern for the wellbeing of the interracial offspring produced from such a union. (No, I am not making this shit up… I wish I were. Believe me.)

I added, “You are right. Without Dr. King, it is possible that daddy and mommy were not even allowed to get married.”

“And that means I would not even be here!” Mr. Monk said with amazement, looking pleased and proud that his existence on earth was made possible because Dr. Martin Luther King gave that speech, 47 years ago.

And he was right.

$5000 a Bullet

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Many of us have seen Chris Rock’s standup routine on gun control, or as he called it “Bullet Control”, either on YouTube or in the movie Bowling for Columbine.

In the wake of the shooting in Arizona, there is a heated discussion surrounding the fact that 1) the gunman fired off a large capacity magazine with 30 bullets within seconds and ended up killing 6 people and wounding 14 (He was subdued when he paused to reload), and 2) the federal law that would have banned assault weapons and gun magazines that can hold more than 10 bullets expired in 2004 because the congress failed to renew it.

It just seems so poignant right now. From the mouth of a comedian.

(The transcript of Chris Rock’s routine is after the jump in case you cannot watch the video because 1) your phone sucks like mine, 2) you are being productive)

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And everybody’s talking about gun control. “Got to get rid of the guns.”

Fuck that. l like guns.

You got a gun, you don’t have to work out.

l ain’t working out. l ain’t jogging. You got pecs, l got Tecs.

Fuck that shit.

You don’t need no gun control.

You know what you need? We need some bullet control.

Man, we need to control the bullets, that’s right.

l think all bullets should cost 5000 dollars.

5000 dollars for a bullet. You know why?

‘Cause if a bullet costs 5000 dollars, there’d be no more innocent bystanders.

That’d be it.

Every time somebody gets shot, people will be like,

“Damn, he must have did something.”

“Shit, they put 50,000 dollars worth of bullets in his ass.”

And people would think before they killed somebody, if a bullet cost 5000 dollars.

“Man, l would blow your fucking head off, if l could afford it.”

“l’m gonna get me another job, l’m gonna start saving some money… and you’re a dead man.”

“You better hope l can’t get no bullets on layaway.”

So even if you get shot by a stray bullet, you won’t have to go to no doctor to get it taken out: whoever shot you would take their bullet back.

“l believe you got my property?!”

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35 seconds

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On January 12, 2010, at 4:53 pm, in Haiti,

an earthquake with a magnitude of 7.2 on the Richter scale has plunged Haiti into hell… 35 seconds later… the capital of Port-au-Prince was destroyed over 75%. Today it is estimated that the number of dead could rise 300.0000 dead “as many” injuries and than 2.3 million people were displaced, more than a million live still in camps or makeshift shelters. Yesterday as now, nothing has really changed… Port-au-Prince is a monument of ruins which seems to have escaped to the time…

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On the anniversary of this tragedy that continues to go on, Kathy, who lives in Haiti with her partner, has written a moving, thought-provoking post “Haiti’s 35 Second Tragedy: a Second Chance for Peace“.

And what I see—every 35 seconds—is a city still in ruin.  I see the weary but not teary eyes of human beings too stunned to grieve even colossal losses.

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Kathy’s message is one of hope. She asks all of us to

Please take 35 seconds to share this prayer with me.  Take 35 seconds and pray for peace in Haiti.

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I urge you to visit Kathy, to at least read this one post by her.

I cannot pretend to know much of what’s been going on in Haiti in the past year. I will admit that like many people in the Western world, I cried over the destruction and the victims a year ago; I read and watched the coverage with an obsession; I made the donations; I hugged my kids; I was moved by the outpouring of compassion all over the world. Then I moved on. I briefly thought of Haiti when I heard of the cholera outbreak in October. I did not think of Haiti again until I heard on NPR the other day of a report of refugee camps and tent cities that have failed to disappear and in fact have now evolved into something semi-permanent.

Yes, horror stories abound in these tent cities. But if you listen to NPR, like I did, you will also hear stories of hope, self-reliance, will power, survival and perseverance. Cities of hope. “Tired Of Waiting, Haitians Build Their Own Homes“. “Haitians Take Rubble Removal Into Own Hands“.

Let’s focus on hope today.

35 seconds.

There is no shame on the bandwagon if it is for a worthy cause

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WARNING: Wagon jumping here!

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I learned of Beads of Courage from BugginWord, a charity that I have never heard of until today. The main program is based on a concept so “simple” yet so brilliant (’cause many probably thought to themselves: “Why didn’t anybody think of this sooner?!”) that is making a huge impact on the lives of young cancer patients directly.

The idea is straightforward:

Give beads to children coping with cancer and other serious illness. Allow them to tell their stories through these beads.

I was doubtful at first. “Beads?” I thought to myself, immediately conjuring up the images of teddy bears given to children in the hospitals around the world during Christmas season. Teddy Bears are nice. Yes. But I can only imagine the comfort to be temporary. How is it going to make any ACTUAL difference? And with BEADS?

Watch this video segment from CBS Morning News and you will understand why I was totally blown away by and could not stop telling anybody about what this organization is doing for children around the world and the power of, yes, beads.

(Warning: Elly wrote “Prepare to cry” after the link. I did not heed her warning for I was an idiot this morning. Be warned.)

Let’s paint the town red

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Let’s paint the town red because there is much to be celebrated today.

Elly kicked cancer’s butt! She has been declared cancer-FREE by her doctor. It is likely though that she is still radioactive from, you know, activating the Wonder Twin power in her epic battle against that super villain. But like Harry Potter, LOVE is the ultimate magic that is going to keep her safe.

The Internet has come through for Trevor: much love and good thoughts and prayers were sent his way.  According to the Facebook update, “Trevor is out of surgery and in recovery. They were able to reduce the blockage from 85% to 15% and are hopeful that he will be able to leave the hospital Friday.”

At Sundown, our Jewish friends will begin celebrating Hanukkah (I honestly do not know which spelling to follow AND I still copy and paste this word after so many years… I suck. I know.)  The Festival of Lights. If it has become all too predictable to embed the video of Adam Sandler’s classic Hanukkah song for the post published on the first day of Hanukkah, so be it. He’s insanely adorable (or maybe the other way around), and it is always such a pleasure to listen to the list of famous people who (happen to be) are Jewish, including Rob “You Can Do It” Schneider who’s a Filipino Jew.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1sf5yqZX-k

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On December 1, 1955, a 42-year-old African American woman in Montgomery, Alabama refused to give up her seat on the bus to make room for a white passenger. Rosa Parks. You know her name well.

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Today, as is every December 1, is also World AIDS Day.

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“The AIDS pandemic is almost 30 years old, and in that time 60 million people have been infected with HIV, and more than 30 million people have lost their life to the most destructive epidemic in recorded history.

In what has become one of the most recognized international health days in modern history, World AIDS Day is a day to raise awareness and commemorate those who have passed on.”  — LGBTQ Nation

30 years seem to be a long time. Remember the panic in the 80s? The hush-hush? Remember the Red Ribbons?

Things certainly have changed, for the most part, better. We are now in a different century. We seem to have left it behind us. However, there is still no known cure: 33 million people are estimated to be living with HIV. In the US those who are not (or have been) affected by this disease seem to have forgotten about it. (And I used to be one of those). Yes, we still hear about the news from Africa, about Bono’s charity work with (RED), and about the fundraising concerts he gave. But that’s all the way in Africa, right? Do people here still bother with the Red Ribbons on World AIDS Day?

According to CDC and AIDS.org,

  • An estimated 56,300 Americans are newly infected with HIV each year.
  • There are approximately 1.1 million Americans who are living with HIV/AIDS.

Courtesy of Micael @ The Journey*

  • The CDC estimates that 21% of HIV-positive people don’t know they are infected-meaning they may be transmitting HIV without knowing it.

* The picture with the girl holding red balloons also came from Micael. Micael is living with HIV and he talks about what this day means to him this year, the first time as someone from the other side (or this side depending on where you are speaking from) . His writing, especially his poetry, is often packed with sharp edges and gut-throttling punches. Raw and visceral. With an ample amount of biting humor. I think many of you here would also find it magnetic, difficult to tear away.

That is why today is important. We in the modern, safe(r) parts of the world need to help educate and spread the word here and now. Help our young remember. Even the Pope recently consented that using condoms in some cases is a moral issue. Someone else’s life may be at stake here.

At the same time, Bono’s (RED) collective has from the start identified the twin evil of the AIDS pandemic in Africa: Poverty. Lack of access to medication and education. Babies kept on being born with aids. A vicious cycle.

This year (RED) launched a campaign to eliminate AIDS: no more babies born with AIDS, a new generation of children that are not (nor are in danger of being) born with AIDS. In 5 years. 2015.

For the first time since AIDS arrived on the scene, we have a chance to realize, in the next 5 years, a whole generation born AIDS free. This goal is achievable through continued funding from the global health community, including the Global Fund.

To raise awareness for this massive campaign, (RED) has persuaded several landmarks around the world to turn themselves RED for today.

Feel free to paint the town red today in your own way.

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This is what hope looks like

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As a researcher, you hate it when you come across a piece of evidence that proves against the theory/conclusion you are hoping to make. How I wish I could sweep it under the rug. Pretend I’ve never seen it. Plead ignorance. I hate being able to see both sides: Why can’t I just believe in “It Gets Better” and “The kids are more tolerant than before” and shut up?

Before I go off on a tangent, you roll your eyes “Here we go again!” and hit EXIT, please watch this. Just watch this video and we will be comforted to see Glass as Half Full.

THIS. Is what hope looks like.

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I also feel hopeful because for every Clint McCance, the anti-gay, hateful, douche-bag, offensive Arkansas school board member who is in a position to set an example and affect what goes on inside schools yet whose tirade on Facebook ignited a nation-wide outrage in the midst of suicides by gay teens, let’s hope that there is someone like Jay McDowell, a high school teacher in Michigan who asked a student to leave the classroom who walked in on Spirit Day announcing his disapproval of gays, and who subsequently got his hand slapped (one-day suspension without pay) when a parent wrote a complaint letter to the high school.

Psss. Andrea! This kid and this teacher from Ann Arbor, MI, absolutely make up for having to live with NO Costco within an-hour drive.

What Mr. McDowell did was what St. Charles High School in the Chicago area should have done yet was too risk-averse (i.e. BALL-less) when handling their own Spirit Day Controversy. I was still repressing my anger and feeling dejected about what went on at St. Charles High School when Elly sent this video to me. I feel so much better now that I have seen the face of hope and courage itself in such a young person.

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In case you are still wanting to hear some psychotic foaming that I am well-known for: Earlier this month at St. Charles High School, a few students showed up wearing t-shirts with “Straight Pride” on the front in defiance of the school’s participation in Ally Week. Not only that, on the back of those t-shirts were the famed bible verse condemning homosexual individuals to death. With the “first amendment” in mind, the school merely asked the students to cross out the bible verse with a Sharpie and wear a sweatshirt over the t-shirt.

The school congratulated itself on handling the matter well, stating that this was a good thing because it started a conversation.

I am puzzled because the whole “Ally Week” and Anti-bullying messaging thing was not enough to start a conversation on its own, and, based on the whole “it started a conversation” thing, I am assuming that previously it was not known that some students harbor anti-gay sentiments, and therefore their making such a strong statement with the t-shirts was the first time a “conversation” could be started, and that for the first time the students with anti-gay agenda were given the podium to air their points of view, ’cause, you know, what they must have expressed in the hallways, the gym, the cafeteria, the bathrooms, the buses, etc etc, do not really count.

I am also puzzled because, I am going to assume again, that the school has some sort of anti-racist policies in place since it’s going to be a bitch if you attract the attention (and ire) of ACLU by letting little racists off too easily. Imagine if the t-shirts were emblazoned with “White Pride”. Imagine if the students have walked into the school during the assembly commemorating African American History Month, demanding a month to be dedicated to White People “’cause it ain’t fair otherwise.”

Here is what Chicago Tribune columnist Erin Zorn has to say about this incident that unfortunately, imo, has not received enough attention and made enough waves nation-wide state-wide city-wide suburb-wide: (and I am beyond delighted to see someone from Chicago Tribune making a strong stand regarding something that matters!)

“Gay Pride” is an antidote to gay shame — the sense of alienation and otherness in adolescence that prompted writer Dan Savage to start the It Gets Better project to reduce the incidence of suicide among gay teens; kids who kill themselves in part because they’re treated unmercifully by the sorts of peers who would wear shirts to school consigning them to being murdered at the command of an angry God.

And because there is no corresponding concept of straight shame, the expression “Straight Pride” can only be read as a gratuitous and contemptuous response to the suggestion that gay people not be marginalized.

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This under-reported incident at St. Charles High School found me shocked and dispirited because I have this ill-placed faith in our young people. (Sort of like how I was surprised to learn that there are gay or African American Republicans… What can I say? I am naive…)  I was misled by Pew Research Center‘s executive summary that the new generation is more tolerant than ever.

I forgot that MORE is a relative term.

Here is the reality of today’s teens as reported by Chicago Tribune this week: More tolerant than the older generations yet desensitized.

“The problem is that tolerance doesn’t necessarily mean understanding.”

Growing up with the encouragement to speak your mind, respect relativism, pursue your own truth, they (may) grow up with a false interpretation of First Amendment as “I can say whatever the F I want to say because less than that is not acceptable” and the blind belief that “everybody is entitled to his/her own opinion ergo I don’t have to listen to you because who’s to say your truth is better than mine?”

To this, I would like to give out t-shirts to all high schoolers with these words:

“The right to hold an opinion carries with it the responsibility to defend it*”

* Bible verses do not count as evidence. Thank you.

The Faces of Those Who Were There

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The project is a series of portraits of people who have gone on this journey. Each portrait is accompanied by words chosen by the person pictured. Posthumous portraits are included in this group and for these portraits the families have chosen the words which accompany the painting.

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In 2005, as he watched the news of wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, Matthew Mitchell, a painter in Amherst, MA, felt disconnected and feared that the memories of the soldiers, like the news, would soon fade.

“The big danger that we have is that we can forget about war.”

He decided to do something about it. His project, 100 Faces of War Experience, is exactly that: he will paint the portraits of 100 veterans and each portrait will be accompanied by the personal statements of the soldier. So far Mr. Mitchell has completed 38 of the 100 portraits, and this project has turned into something that is a lot more powerful than he has anticipated.

Currently the portrait of Sgt. Rick Yarosh is in the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery. Sgt. Yarosh suffered severe injury when his vehicle was hit by an IED with 60% of his body burned, including his whole face. Looking at his face, you would be surprised to hear him speak because he sounds upbeat and positive and proud.

I’m lucky and blessed to be here, I’m able to share my story with others.

That day started the same as every other day, but that day has never ended.

You could learn more about this from NPR’s program on the 100 Faces of War Experience project, Washington Post’s article on Sgt. Yarosh and his portrait, or this YouTube video from the U.S. Army.

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We owe our freedom to the men and women in the military.

past. present. future.

Thank you.

ROCK THE VOTE!

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This has been how I felt and what I feared until The Rally to Restore Sanity

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'nuff said.

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I know many will disagree: but for me, this election is all about a (not so covert any more) culture war. “Cutting taxes & Smaller Government” to me is another code for “Compassionate Conservatism”, i.e. “I feel sorry for you man but I am not gonna share with you. Sorry. It sucks to be you I know.” The economy? You cannot have years of wrongful financial practices, an entire Wall Street in cahoot, crazy housing market bubbles and scoundrels getting fat over “I Cannot Believe It’s NOT Illegal!” business models without suffering the consequences for a painfully long duration of time.

The economy, like the flu, simply has to run its course.

The irony is when the economy finally recovers, the GOP is going to take credit for having something to do with it now that all predictions point towards their taking over the house.

I am fully aware that I am in a blessed position to preach Patience because we all know that when you have to decide to pay for the utility bills or to pay for your children’s winter clothes Patience is overrated. However, do you really think that the GOP will be able to perform miracles? Their claim to have the exclusive direct line to GOD nonetheless? When all the big businesses and all the houses with 12 bathrooms support a certain group of candidates, shouldn’t we all be just a tad suspicious?

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Click on the picture to find your polling place!

Rally to Restore Sanity: Perspective is everything

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This is today.

I wish I were there. But I am here at home, trying to restore my own sanity, in a very personal, trivial way.

Some dear friends that I have the honor of getting to know were there on the Mall in D.C. witnessing history: Nancy at Mature Landscaping. Renee at Life In the Boomer Lane who actually wrote an excellent post about WHY she was going to the rally.  “Dufmanno” who was there with all her family who traveled from New York, New Jersey and Maryland. I cannot wait to read their recounting of this historical day!

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While we are waiting for our blogosphere personal news reporter to take a breather and share with us their stories, here is the most basic, yet important, piece of information about Rally for Sanity that got me all excited and scream BOOYAH! to the monitor:

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According to CBS, an estimated 215,000 people attended the rally today. This means:

Sanity, 215000. Crazy, 87000.

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Sanity won. Who knew?!

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Jon Stewart’s closing speech deserves to be quoted in full as Rolling Stone has honorably decided to do (Note: You can find a nearly comprehensive transcript of Stewart’s speech on Rolling Stone since they did not want to reduce the 10-minute speech to a mere sound bite. Or you can watch the 12-minute video here). I am however guilty as charged since by Ctrl+C & Ctrl+V I hope to be as close to awesomeness as I possibly could…

There are terrorists and racists and Stalinists and theocrats, but those are titles that must be earned. You must have the resume. Not being able to distinguish between real racists and tea partiers, or real bigots and Juan Williams and Rich Sanchez is an insult — not only to those people, but to the racists themselves, who have put forth the exhausting effort it takes to hate. Just as the inability to distinguish between terrorists and Muslims makes us less safe, not more.

The press is our immune system. If it overreacts to everything we eventually get sicker. And perhaps eczema. Yet, with that being said, I feel good. Strangely, calmly good, because the image of Americans that is reflected back to us by our political and media process is false. It is us through a funhouse mirror, and not the good kind that makes you slim and taller — but the kind where you have a giant forehead and an ass like a pumpkin and one eyeball.

[As a metaphor] These cars… Everyone of the cars that you see is filled with individuals of strong belief and principles they hold dear — often principles and beliefs in direct opposition to their fellow travelers.

And yet these millions of cars must somehow find a way to squeeze one by one into a mile-long, 30-foot wide tunnel carved underneath a mighty river…And they do it. Concession by concession. You go. Then I’ll go. You go, then I’ll go… Sure, at some point there will be a selfish jerk who zips up the shoulder and cuts in at the last minute. But that individual is rare and he is scorned, and he is not hired as an analyst.

Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together and the truth is, there will always be darkness.  And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey.  But we do it anyway, together.

If you want to know why I’m here and what I want from you I can only assure you this: you have already given it to me.  You’re presence was what I wanted.  Sanity will always be and has always been in the eye of the beholder.  To see you here today and the kind of people that you are has restored mine.  Thank you.

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here are some of the signs that made me chuckle:

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(Sources: HuffPost, National Post, Chicago Press Release)

And, drum roll please, here’s my favorite one, hands down, or inside…

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I was able to watch Saturday Night Life on television (as opposed to on Hulu) tonight while I folded the laundry, as part of my “Restore My Sanity” one-woman rally the eve before Halloween… In the cold open, Joe “The Veep” Biden (as hilariously played by Jason Sudeikis) asked Americans to gain some perspectives by comparing themselves to the Chilean miners. They sang their national anthem every day while trapped underground. They prevailed. And when they were rescued they wrapped themselves in the Chilean flag as if Chile had just won the World Cup.

For people that complain, Biden/Sudeikis has a checklist for them:

Are you above ground?

(Long pause)

That’s it. That’s the only item on the checklist.

Don’t be the whiners. Think of the miners!

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Courtesy: www.maturelandscaping.com

Update: Here’s the post by Nancy at Mature Landscaping about her experience at the Rally. Here is the sign sported by her group. It is awesome.

Reality bites. No. Reality kicked my ass.

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There is no other way around it: I am a hypocrite.

Isn’t it an ironic coincidence that after my holier-than-thou tirade against bullying and my immagonnakickyourpunkass battle cry, my 12-year-old son told me tonight that he has been called all sorts of names at school?

Names such as gay, nerd, retard. Hurled at him, in passing, on a daily basis.

And the worst perpetrator is the 13 year old son from a family we know (whose youngest child does the same extracurricular activity as my son and therefore we see and hang out with them very often).

As soon as I heard this, all the blood rushed to my head: I could see the Samurai sword in my bedroom and I could see, in my mind’s eye, me wearing a bandanna that says VENGEANCE, going over there right now to kick that little shithead’s ass. The visualization was so vivid my fingers curled around the imaginary sword in my hand and I felt my legs twitch as I kicked the door down.

Of course I did no such thing.

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Not able to coax more details out of my son, I did the only thing I could do: I went to his Facebook account and changed the setting so the little fuckhead and his mother could not see my son’s wall posts any more since, as you probably guessed, unfriend the little fucking curd is probably going to addle him more.

Finally after I put the little one to bed, I had some quiet time with my 7th grader before he went to bed.  I pretended to be calm (not very successfully since I mentioned samurai sword and kick ass and something about moving to Taiwan) and asked him more about what really goes on at school.

Son: Mom. You are over-reacting again! I am not going to tell you anything any more!

Me: Ok ok. I promise I won’t do anything crazy. I just need to get it out inside the house now so I can remain calm about this. I just want to know that you are ok.

Son: You are so lucky that I talk to you! Most kids don’t tell their parents these things…

Me: OK. I promise I will not do anything without asking you first. I will not even tell Miss _________ about [FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT]. I just want to know more and make sure that you are doing ok…

Son: I probably exaggerated a bit. I am not bullied, I guess. People just call me names… like gay, retard, nerd. [Fucking piece of shit] calls me gay all the time.

Me: (Taking a deep breath) Does it bother you?

Son: Nah… Well, it kind of bothers me because I don’t like it when people use those words. When my friends say ‘gay’ or ‘retard’ I tell them to not swear and they say, “What? I am not swearing! I just say retard!” Ugh.

Me: (Taking a really deep breath) Do they single you out? Or do they do it to the other kids?

Son: It’s what the cool kids do. In order to look cool, you have to casually swear all the time, call people gay and retard all the time, and talk about sex non-stop.

Me: (Thinking to myself WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?! Taking a really really deep breath, and slowly) Ok. So… these kids. They call you names if you cross path. But if you stay away from them, do they seek you out to pick on you? (Wistfully) They don’t bother you right? Right?

Son: Not really… I just feel that they do it to me more. They call me nerd all the time.

Me: Does this make you not want to go to school? Are there other “non-cool” kids that you can hang out with?

Son: (Exasperated) Mom! I have a lot of friends at school! And they think I am cool. But even they call me a nerd. Well, because I am a nerd.

Me: (Exasperated. Hey, I am not Perfect & Wise Mom!) Why do you have to label yourself like this? [Yes, then I launched into a tirade against anti-intellectualism in this country and the stupidity of all this. ALL THIS! Probably did not help. I did say I am not Perfect & Wise Mom…]”

Son: It is kind of annoying that people think I am a nerd. I know Kung Fu very well and I can do a back flip, and I am probably stronger than a lot of them.

Me: Honey, I am not saying this because I am your mother, but I really really think that people are just jealous. I want to let you know that if somebody touches you, you have my permission to, wait, I’d better check with dad before I give you the permission…

Son: We are told this rule at school: If you are punched, cover your face. You are allowed to shove the person back but you are not allowed to make a fist and punch back. [Chuckles] I can probably shove the person back all the way to the locker.

Me: I just want you to know that we will not be mad at you for defending yourself. I also want to let you know that, although your friends seem to know better than to use ‘gay’ or ‘fag’ in front of grownups, if I hear them using these words, I will call them out on it.

Son: Just make sure you don’t do it to someone who can beat me up! Can I go to bed now?

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I am not sure what I should/could do. I am still in shock while at the same time feeling embarrassed by my naiveté for being shocked at all.

I did not grow up here. I did not experience anything like this: Not name calling. Not having words unapproved by adults hurled at you. To this day I cannot curse in Chinese; that’s how effective cultural and social conditioning combined with physical punishment, or simply the threat of it, is in disciplining children. And behold: Surprise surprise! All the news about bullying did not prepare me for when it actually happened to my own child. Obviously I had no idea what the fuck I was talking about when I was running my mouth. Please accept my sincere apology.

In all honesty, what my son is living with now is mild compared to some of the horror stories we have heard. But it still hurts. It hurts so much. My son is a part of me. When he is hurting, my heart hurts too. I can actually feel the pain inside my chest. It is already rousing all the primal maternal instincts I have. “You mess with my family? You mess with me.” And I’ve already had to calm myself the fuck down.

I cannot imagine having to deal with full-blown bullying as a parent. I cannot imagine having to deal with it as a child.

Deep down, I am wondering whether name calling truly is a lot more sinister: The school district does have a Zero Tolerance policy but only if there is physical contact. (And I am not going to spell out what is going through my mind right now. It suffices to say, IF they touch my son, it is open season). For words, mere words, there is nothing you can do about it, realistically. What’s the school going to do? There is no proof. And even if there is, what kind of punishment is the school going to dole out? Telling them to not do it again? “Be nice!” Slap the kids’ hands?

Hardy har har. Big fucking deal.

HOW FUCKING STUPID IS THIS?!

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I suck. I seriously do. Full of hot air. Nothing more. It’s been only one night, and I am ready to strike a bargain with the devil to make all this magically go away.

Why didn’t anybody tell me how awful it is going to be? Perhaps someone should have included this in the book “What to Expect When You Have Children”: Prepared to feel murderous rage against other teens but of course you cannot act on it and to feel the primordial urge to protect your young no matter what but of course you cannot do so when they are in school.

If I had known bringing up children in the United States of America means watching them being called names and not being able to do a fucking damned thing about it, I would not have married an American.

If I had known bringing up children means you have to sit and watch their innocence being stripped away bit by bit at the school yard where they are supposed to be fucking safe and protected, I would have hesitated.

I am most likely blowing everything up out of proportion. But this is how I feel right now.