Quarantine

I'm back at school and spring term has commenced. Just one week ago, I was sitting at my desk in my house and now, I find myself 30 miles away from home in a dormitory of 40 girls. Perhaps this is another testament to the fact that so much can change in just one week. 

I'm excited to be back at school in a dorm. While I haven't seen many people my age since I'm prefecting in a freshman/sophomore dorm, simply being around so many other people is exciting to me. Being at home for a full year has definitely skewed my perspective on social life. At home, it was just my parents and me so it almost became normal to see just 2 people regularly. Yet at school, I'm surprised by the fact that even though we're in quarantine, we can still see other people. The dorm eats meals together, which provides a sole, precious hour of socializing. More importantly, being with other people has reinstilled who I am in the broader world. Being at home for a full year with just my family has shrouded my ability to remember the person I become in larger groups, as everyone fills a different "role" in social circles that's unique to them. I believe we lose that sense of ourselves, that context of our identities, when we don't interact with many others regularly. 

And finally, I'm pleased to say that quarantine has greatly surpassed my expectations. We have three opportunities to go outside every day, allowing plenty of time for fresh-air and walks. This has been critical to helping quarantine pass smoothly. To be frank, I go out about that many times per day at home anyway, spending the rest of my time in my room working. So the only major change is when I can go out. And I've also been fortunate to be able to continue exercising in my dorm room, having brought a yoga mat with me. I've continued my high-intensity workouts and pilates routines which have helped me feel relaxed and stay productive throughout the day. 

While quarantine is certainly not the most ideal circumstance and campus feels vacant because of it, from what I've been told, it is totally worth it. Reconnecting with friends will almost feel normal afterward, as the sports program will continue in the afternoons along with in-person classes. More importantly, I'm hoping to find outlets to reconnect together with the rest of the senior class. Senior year is a precious time. It's one where people begin to let their guards down, slow the pace of life, and where the class can cherish our final moments together. Because of the pandemic, this level of bonding hasn't manifested in our class, but I'm optimistic that it will in the upcoming weeks once lockdown ends. The countdown is surely on. We're already 50% through, so just 5 more days!

Flipping narratives

This week, a mass shooting occurred in Atlanta. A white man walked into 3 different spas and shot 8 people, 6 of whom were Asian women. While this shooting was irrefutably an act of hate crime, the shooter said he was trying to overcome his "sexual addiction." I've been processing the news this past week, and my thoughts echo what many others have voiced. What angers me is that Captain Jay Baker, who had previously shared anti-Asian posts on social media, could say that the shooter just had a "bad day." When did a "bad day" warrant hate crime? One insightful article on the NYTimes that I wanted to share is called "Asian-Americans are being attacked. Why are hate crime charges so rare?" I think this article offers a clear explanation regarding the difficulty of proving a racial motive for hate crimes against Asian-Americans. 

But I want to return to the shooting that took place this past week. I couldn't believe my ears when I heard that Robert Aaron Long shot 6 Asian women to stop his "sexual addiction." I mean, really? This proclamation reflects how culturally screwed up this country can be. Asian women are first stereotyped by the news, by books, by Hollywood, as sexually submissive, exotic creatures. The media valorized Asian women. Then COVID-19 hit, followed by offensive rhetoric from the former president that blamed Asian-Americans for the coronavirus. And now, a criminal has taken these stereotypes and exploited them to cover what are clearly hate crimes. As the NYTimes article said, even this will be hard to prosecute. 

I've also been thinking about the flipping narratives for Asian-Americans. For one, we are looked upon as the "model minority." We are supposed to represent how the American Dream can be obtained through hard work, obedience, and decency. Is this the first hate crime against Asians? No. But I've noticed major media sites rarely highlight Asian hate-crime, perhaps out of a fear that it will shatter the idea of the American Dream narrative for racial minorities. But then, when the pandemic wreaked havoc, we've been scapegoated by some extremists as the cause of the coronavirus. This scapegoating also drove the Japanese internment. It feels as if we fill in vacancies and inconsistencies in America's narrative. We tend to gashes wherever they open. 

I'm still struggling to string together my feelings on paper. There's just so much happening emotionally right now amongst the AAPI community. But what's sad is that I foresee many more hate crimes against racial minorities occurring. Rhetoric, compounded by social media's pervasiveness, is more important than ever. I've noticed this in myself. I, for one, don't feel the same when I walk outside. There's a tenseness in me, a newfound alertness. But perhaps what's saddest of all is that what happened this week wasn't surprising at all.

Readings lately

Around here, life has not simmered down the way I envisioned. So far, my spring break has been filled with activities, anxiety, and what feels like a long-list of to-dos that I never quite finish by the time my head hits the pillow. I've been balancing driver's ed along with AP prep and outside appointments while trying to find time to relax by watching movies with my ill cat. Along with this accretion of things to do, the stress of college admissions tops it off. Every day, new articles seem to pop up in the news regarding various aspects of this college admissions cycle.  But one thing has been keeping me grounded, and it's been reading the news (as contradicting as it may seem) and Shakespeare's plays.

Lately, the news has found a unique way of imbuing me with hope. There's a tangible light at the end of the tunnel and I can feel this energy when I open up various news apps. And while unfortunate events certainly show up in my feed, a major component of the news lately has been vaccination updates. The speed at which the United States has been able to vaccinate people amazes me. We've vaccinated over 100 million people just 50 days into Biden's presidency and the country is averaging 2 million vaccine shots per day. And earlier this week, President Biden announced that by May 1st, all adults will be eligible to sign up for a vaccine. This is simply amazing to me, considering the size of the US and the difficulty of helping people in rural areas access the vaccine. I keep reflecting on where we were just one year ago, locked up in our houses, afraid to leave our doors, wondering when life would return to normal. From the start, I had a feeling that life wouldn't glimpse normalcy until a vaccine rolled out but frankly, I didn't anticipate this moment to come so quickly. Perhaps this shows the strength of this country when emergency beckons or rather, the amazing frontiers that the US can propel in times of hardship when governments and businesses collaborate. 

I've also spent some time reading Shakespeare's plays lately. I finished Macbeth this week and I'm reading Hamlet now. Shakespeare's plays are clearly celebrated quite universally, but I consistently had a hard time grasping his old English when I tried reading them earlier. I took a break and coming back to it now, I'm surprised by how my reading comprehension has improved through high school, as I'm now able to better understand how Shakespeare employs language. His plays are quirky, dark, and rooted in lessons and understandings about human morale. I'm completely drawn to this works and I anticipate reading more of his plays later. 

This past year has been difficult for everyone, so I hope everyone has found some way or activity to ground themselves in truth and sanity. Reading has been my source of peace lately, but I'm so very much looking forward to returning to campus in the spring. Having not socialized or interacted with people my age for over a year in person, I imagine that I will need a period of reckoning with how to do so! But my oh my, this year has been crazy. Only one more week to go before the bell tower appears in the window of my car. 

The Estuary Between Light and Dark

The Winter term is over and I'm cruising into Spring Break. The days slowly elongate, as if the sky is reckoning with the fact that at some point shortly, there will be more sun than moon. Every time this year, I wake up to faint rays of sun peering in through my curtains, confusing me about what time of day it is. When I glance at my clock, I'm surprised that it's an hour earlier. I love that my mornings aren't greeted by the residue of the night, but by the glimmer of day. This inspires hope and happiness into my day; something to look forward to. The first two weeks of March is one of my favorite times of the year. It's a time to appreciate that I made it through the winter, and to celebrate all the activities that the warmer weather invites. 

When I walk outside, the air is different too. It doesn't greet the skin on my face with a cold, hard no. Instead, it's dewier, fresher, and tingles around the corners where my mask meets the skin of my face. Afternoon strolls are the best right now. When I go out from between 3-4 PM, the sun is just beginning to set. It casts golden rays through the evergreens, which seem almost to lift their slouched branches at the prospect of longer, warmer days. I glance at the grass. Even though what I see are the remains of last year's lawns, the grass looks hopeful atop the muddy earth, wet from the remaining mounds of melting, dirty snow. 

And finally, people are evidently happier. Most people have recognized that the worst of winter is (hopefully/probably) over, and for a city that's buried in snow for far too many more months than most residents would like, this period of time is almost like the estuary between light and dark. It's during these brief, precious weeks of the year, that the darkness of winter and the lightness of the upcoming warmer months blend together. In the grocery store, I see people less grouchy, less harried. In my neighborhood, people aren't drowning in thick scarves, hats, and gloves when they walk so they wave. I'll cherish these last weeks at home during this precious time of year before spring waves hello.