Poem From Anthology Workshop

Family gatherings is where I hear the
thump thump
of familiar voices in Vietnamese karaoke the
thump thump
of the rhythms of little cousins' bottoms sliding down the rough carpet stairs the
thump thump
of the footsteps made by mothers in the kitchen cooking the
thump thump
of the slapping of playing cards on dinner tables by uncles and fathers the
thump thump
of my heart beat
cause.... that is where the home is.

Down Varsity Lane

I drove down varsity lane at Willow Glen today with Phi and Michelle. It was more like driving down memory lane. I spent 7 years of my life at Willow Glen from middle school to high school. It's hard to believe so much has happened, how much things have changed at Willow Glen. New buildings, new signs, different colors. At least as I was driving, the bumps on the road felt the same. The bumps of my past.

I saw the basketball courts where I spent most of my time in 6th and 7th grade. I developed a move called "monkey style" that was a lay-up with a pass behind my back before shooting it into the basketball. A few friends of my friends who played with me should remember this. Good times.

I saw the spit pit near the basketball courts on the middle school side. The "spit pit" that was a stairway leading down to a room in the gym. No one should ever walk down there or else you'll get spat on.

I saw the shared running track. Dusty like how I remembered it. That was where I knew I had to change my weight and my look. I sprinted well, but my endurance was lacking. I was a pretty chubby kid. That summer before my Freshman year, I jogged literally everyday to improve myself. I lost 30 pounds. During my first year, I finished the mile under 10 min. PE was huge for me back then because throughout middle school I felt so insufficient. I had 15 min mile times. I wanted to change it all: my look, my athleticism, myself. And, I did.

I saw the field of tanbark which was the "new quad area" during the time. That table under the tree right dab in the center of the quad. I could still visualize my friends playing 13 on the tables. Along their side, I would watch, my hands in my uniformed khaki pant pockets, black sleeves of the same pull-over hoodie I would wear everyday. I could taste the chimichangas, the pink lemonade, the hot cheetos, the dominos pizza and breadsticks. Our little niche.

I wonder what I would do without all these spaces I had and experienced. What if I was not here, but there? What if I was born a few days earlier, I would be up a grade. What if I had stayed in East Side San Jose, and not moved to the outskirts of Willow Glen? Sometimes I see my life in a linear fashion. Upon analzying it, I see how each of the things that happen in my life fall into place almost so perfectly to form the person I am today. However, I know I don't have to look it that way all the time because I always have these questions of "what if"? What if I did not exist here, but I existed there?

The more I accept my home, the more my home will accept me. No more questions about where I belong when I know I belong here already. I am ready to enter through this door to stay here for awhile longer. That's only if it'll take me. It's all up to me whether or not I want to. And, I do.

Home She Said To Me

Mẹ,
cho con đời sống.
Mother,
you give me life.
You,
gave me life.

Mẹ,
How
can I put my hands on
you.

Mẹ,
When
you,
give life.
When
you,
make my home, make me home, make me.

Em,
your brown-nâu eyes,
mirror
my own,
mirror,
Mẹ.

Mẹ,
your tối-đen, black hair
imbued
by
the aroma
of
the
Perfume River.. is

The essence of my adolescence.
The essence of my manhood.

My running reflection.

Mẹ,
the wrinkles, the cracks, the marks on
your
hands
mirror
the beauty
I mirror the world to you, Em.

Viet-Nam-Mẹ-------------------
America-Em--------------------

I am you. I am you both. Viet Nam. America. My Em, my lover. My mother, my creator.

Far Away San Jose

I've been living in San Jose my whole life. My family lived in East Side San Jose on Winslow near Grand Century before I was born. I was only able the breathe ESSJ air for only a few months after I was born. My parents decided they did not want to raise their children in an environment filled with gang activity, drug dealing, things that would impede their children's development. Prior to living there, they had lived in East Palo Alto infested with crack addiction and dealing. Now what once was our neighborhood is now Ikea and a huge shopping plaza.

Basically, during that time in '88, many impoverish areas in San Jose were populated by Vietnamese; many of those areas were still developing while refugees were resettling in neighborhood that already had existing problems. My parents, while they were split between community vs. affluence, chose to move out into a more "safer" community called Willow Glen. There were little to none Vietnamese resettling there.

San Jose. A city so big, I have yet to explore most of it. The more I drive around San Jose in my car pumping gas the more I want to walk with my feet around Berkeley. For once, I feel like I belong in a community that is somewhat knit-tight unlike where I've been living for most of my life which is incredibly spread out.

I miss my friends from Berkeley. I miss my friends from San Jose although I've been home. A lot of people are changing, I'm changing. There has to be change for there to be a tomorrow as corny as that sounds. I'm pretty sure many people experience this. When they come home from college after a few months, they notice a lot of changes that took place: home, family, friends (especially). I see my friends who've attended their first year college far away come back with newly-formed perspectives and outlooks whereas a lot of my community college friends stayed pretty much the same. I'm one of those 1st year far away college people.

There is so much to learn, yet such a big space to cover. I feel like a shadow within a shadow of something much bigger. I'm on my way in reclaiming my shadow.