In a few hours I will be embarking on a journey to Vietnam

25 days and 24 nights

It has been roughly 15 years since I've been back to Vietnam.. 15 years since being on a plane, 15 years since leaving the state of California!

And I'm going all on my own. No cell phone, no computer. 1 sketchbook. (Okay, maybe 3 sketchbooks)

Originally my father was to accompany me so that I could learn about the journey he, his brothers, my mother, and countless other Vietnamese refugees underwent to restart their lives in America. But I think to understand the perspective of my parents--to step on new soil, to face the potential alienation, and to embrace all that is to come-- I have to stand on my own two feet.
I am excited and frightened all at once. There is so much that has yet to hit me, but there is no turning back. The steps to this point have been tumultuous but worthwhile.

It is funny to think that at a certain point in my formative years, I dreamt of erasing my own skin. I wanted to denounce my heritage. There were years of internalized racism, re-enforced by peers who misunderstood culture for the wrong kind of difference. Lower class, south east asian, a little chubby, and female-- I always stuck out and cried out. Thankfully, art became the catalyst for a whirlwind of change and being an adolescent got a little easier.

And oddly enough, I didn't know about my parent's refugee story until I was a senior exiting high school. It took 18 years for me to even ask them about how they got here and why.

Luckily, it has only taken 3 years for me to be able to go to Vietnam and uncover what it was they left. I never thought I would ever be able to afford it. I never thought I'd have the chance to do this. I still can't believe I'm even allowed to do it! This journey will be a melding of two things I hold dearest to me: art and identity. Art is indeed my identity, but I am trying to find a way to embrace every aspect of my individuality.

Though I have since traded in the studded belts for paint brushes, I am still a little DIY punk at heart. But I have learned too that it is okay to compromise if it's for a loved one (in preparation for this trip I had to trade in my feminist disposition for one of formal feminine nature, by way of my mother). I have no complains though, there is still so much learning ahead of me. I know that I will have limited access to internet and will be leaving my phone in the United States, but I made this blog in hopes of keeping those who have supported me connected. Those growing years would have been so different without the many people in my life who helped shape me. Without my high school art teacher and mentor, Michael Doyle, I would have never immersed myself in art, and without Rita Carrasco for introducing me to the book I Love Yous Are For White People by Lac Su, I would have never found the strength to talk to my parents about their legacy. There are so many people out there I am grateful for.

Thank you to the staff and faculty members of Amador Valley High School (seriously, I wouldn't even be in college without the help of 'The Donnies!')

Thank you to the California College of the Arts and their Illustration community. I cannot say it enough. You guys are the bridge! Thank you Randy Chavez, Bob Ciano, Mark Eanes, Justin Gabbard, Linda Grebmeier, John Hersey, Robert Hunt, Chris Koehler, Caitlin Kuhwald, Alexis Mahrus, John Mattos, Adam McCauley, Jean Oppermann, Owen Smith, Barron Storey, and Michael Wertz. With additional thanks to Matt Silady and Justin Hall for giving me the thumbs up since day one. Thank you for being okay with my weirdness haha!

And thank you friends and family. Sending you all much love.