As committed as I am to the concept of these months, my execution may miss the point. For example, Grace Kelly is an American artist with Asian heritage. However, Chillitees are based in the Philippines, and RiL seem to be based in Japan. Shing02 is a transplant to the US, but as much as Kitcha sounds like he is from the US, he seems to be operating in Sweden.
One issue with that is that there aren't that many Asian-American bands. The Slants call themselves the only Asian-American dance band, and if they took off the "dance" they might still have a point. I might focus on bands with Asian-American members at some point, but also I worry that if I focus on splitting hairs too much, that it could go wrong in a different way.
As it is, my book selection could be questioned as well.
River of Lost Footsteps: Histories of Burma by Thant Myint-U
Bamboo Palace by Christopher Kremmer
Perfume Dreams: Reflections on the Vietnamese Diaspora by Andrew Lam
When Broken Glass Floats: Growing Up Under the Khmer Rouge by Chanrithy Him
The first two are histories, specific respectively to Burma and Laos. The second two books contain personal experiences from authors who were displaced by war and did end up coming to the United States, although in Chanrithy Him's case, the book is mainly set before she comes to the US.
(Also, Thant Myint-U was largely raised in the United States, with his family being based here after his grandfather, U Thant, went to work for the United Nations.)
If I were thinking about trying to know more about the specific topic of the month, it would make sense to read about the annexation of Hawaii, and the Chinese Exclusion Act and the building of the railroads. I'm sure I will end up reading more about those.
Instead, these were books that had been on my radar, and largely because of my mission.
I served with Lao refugees in Fresno and Modesto. It was over twenty years ago, but the memories are still warm. I met many Cambodian and Hmong refugees. I did not meet many Vietnamese, but a good friend of mine in junior high was, and then Burma, Vietnam, and Cambodia all bordered Laos (along with China). There was a map that a lot of the Lao families had on their wall, with the countries and the different groups in them.
(The only Lao joke I know is "How many legs on a Burmese chicken?" It's a pun because the word for Burma sounds like you are saying "man, horse", so with a chicken and a man and a horse it is eight legs. It's funnier in Lao.)
Yesterday I wrote about why there is value in reading about other countries, and I stand by what I wrote. In addition, lots of them have had to come here. That would give them a part in US history, even if we were not often a large part of the reason they had to come.
It touched a lot of tender feelings. There's a part of my heart that is always going to be in the San Joaquin valley, but also a part that goes out to those countries as I think about the people that I knew and loved and what they have had to go through, there and here.
Food for thought that will continue is how important rivers have been in the history. The "perfume" in the title of Lam's book refers to the Perfume River. Before this reading, my associations were always with the Mekong, but that is not the only important river in South East Asia. When you think of agriculture and fishing and setting international boundaries and transportation, we may have gotten away somewhat from remembering how important rivers are here, but it makes sense. The Columbia and Willamette have played a huge role in shaping us here.
I will continue thinking about politeness. It seems that the strict social rules and expectations about showing emotion and affection could inhibit some important things, but then when the Khmer Rouge or the new Lao government forbids all the old signs of respect there was a lot of harm with that as well.
I have been reminded of the power of kindness, and the harm of a lack of kindness. Too often there is cruelty that seems senseless and so unnecessary, but the point was for people to die. Yes, a few small changes could have saved lives, but that wasn't what they wanted, whether they openly admitted that or not.
This obviously resonates with the current immigration discussion, but we don't talk enough about how economically destructive it is. Human suffering should be more important than money, but people should also be aware of how much the suffering will spread. It wouldn't matter if we were better people, but there's too much evidence that we aren't.
On the most personal level, the reading filled in a lot of blanks, and led me to realize that the blanks that were there were are least partly because they tended not to talk about it. Most of the information I had came second-hand. The worst story I ever read had been written as a school assignment. Some of the things that happened in re-education camps I learned from other missionaries who had been out longer. And no one talked about the refugee camps unless they still had people in them, and then it was just about trying to get them over.
There were some self-effacing aspects to their culture where it might feel inappropriate to talk about themselves. There was certainly a focus on the present and what was needed now. That's not necessarily unhealthy, but I worry about unprocessed grief now. I don't think asking more direct questions would have been good, but I wonder now if there were things we could have done to empower them more for telling their own stories.
The month did improve my historical knowledge. It also emotionally put me through the wringer. There was a family that I had kept in touch with until they moved and I did not get a forwarding address. Even the youngest would be 26 years old now. I actually do know that the father in a different family I knew has died. I have feelings.
That may be the most important part of doing this. Knowledge and context are important, but empathy is desperately needed. We do not have the only experiences worth knowing.
I will do the children's books tomorrow. I did not read any poetry. I wanted to find some of Teiko Tomita's poetry (she was a picture bride who came to the Pacific Northwest), but I didn't find any collections. Poetry in this case might require anthologies or online sources.
For comics, I read the first volume of Monstress by Marjorie Liu, and I caught up on the Amulet series, reading books 5, 6, and 7.
I'm glad I stuck with the Amulet series. I wasn't sure after the first one, but I have come to really appreciate it. Monstress is a little dark for me, but it was stunningly gorgeous. I know I will want to check out more of Sana Takeda's book.
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