I think in order for me to share my (counter) narrative, I must go back a bit. Just a quick disclaimer, I purposely wrote (counter) narrative that way. My reason is that as an API (Asian Pacific Islander), or to be more specific, Vietnamese American, the big stereotype falls along the lines of the “model minority myth”, and that narrative does not coincide with my story. So, I think it’s important that I get an opportunity to share my story, my (counter) narrative. & like I previously said, I think in order for me to tell my (counter) narrative, I must go back a bit. 

My family (dad, mom, older brother, older sister, & I) moved to the US in ‘94. Now, my dad is is 77, my mom is 67, my older brother is 29, and my older sister is 27. I think my family is very different than any other Vietnamese family out there. When my brother was an infant in Vietnam, he had a very high fever, which resulted in him having cerebral palsy and mentally disabled. When it was time for my siblings and I went to school, we went to 24th St. Elementary School on 24th St & Western Ave. My parents refused to have my older brother enlisted in regular classes instead of special ed, like the school suggested. 

My siblings and I went to the same elementary school. My older siblings went to the same middle school (Mt. Vernon) while I went to Pio Pico Span School. Afterwards, my older brother went to L.A. High while my sister went to Manual Arts. When it was my turn, I went to the newly opened West Adams Prep H.S. 

In elementary school, I was picked on a lot because of my name. in the 4th grade, I discovered a love for writing. By the 5th grade, I was a pretty high-achieving student. During culmination, I was awarded the highest-achieving student award. I was given a plaque (which my family somehow misplaced when we moved) as well as having my name on a plaque in the school hallway near the main office. 

However, in middle school, my academics started to slip horribly; it might have something to do w/ my childhood bestfriend moving to Arizona (not entirely sure, ha). It was in middle school that my parents changed my official name to my birth name (it was originally Triet Dao Duc Minh; but my birth name is actually Minh-Triet Duc Dao. First, Middle, Last). It was also in middle school when I found out that I had asthma. During the Spring and Summer, when the heat made the oxygen thick and difficult to breathe, my asthma would act up. That eventually greatly impeded on my education as I would occasionally have to step out of class to take a breather, or when the school had to call emergency services to come w/ an ambulance. 

In high school, things were absolutely new. The high school I went to recently opened. At the time, there were only freshmen, sophomores, and juniors; no seniors yet. My class (Class of 2011) was the first class to attend West Adams from freshmen year to senior year and graduate; we didn’t have our first graduation until 2009. West Adams was doing the 4x4 block schedule (we’d have 4 quarters, w/ 4 classes per quarter. So, by the end of the school year, we would have completed 8 courses instead of the usual 6 courses.) What I had most difficult time w/ was my science courses: biology, chemistry, & physics. For biology (9th grade) & chemistry (10th grade), I had some inexperience teachers. I say inexperience because they had absolute no control over their class. Although they weren’t good teachers, they were amazing people. For biology & chemistry, I had the same group of classmates. They would always mess around in class, like throw paper planes around, and at times, they would even pull out all of the cords on the computer. The chaos in the classroom would always give me anxiety/asthma attacks. This would happen at least once a week, if not, at least once every two weeks. As a result, the school would call 911 and have an ambulance come. Occasionally, they would take me to the hospital to treat me. As stupid as it sounds, I refused to use my inhaler. When I have trouble breathing, I am instructed to take my inhaler. As a result, it would make my heart beat faster allowing more air to get into my lungs. However, due to a faster heart beat, it would make my chest hurt, resulting in occasional chest pain, even when I wouldn’t use the inhaler. After a few asthma attacks that the school nurse diagnosed as anxiety attacks, I was appointed to the school psychologist. 

Come senior year, I started to apply for colleges. This is where things started to get iffy for me; You see, my sister graduated valedictorian at Manual Arts and went to USC. However, as a first generation college student, she wasn’t able to keep up to the school’s standards; her grades started to slip and she wasn’t able to attend USC anymore. She eventually dropped out of USC, went to El Camino College, and then transferred to Arizona State Uni. (She graduated in Dec. 2012 w/ a major in mathematics; she now works at a online high school and a private tutor for math.) My older brother stayed at LA Trade Tech for more than the usual 2-years at a community college. However, my parents understood why he had to stay longer than 2-years at a 2-year college due to his condition. 

My parents wanted me to go to LA Trade Tech for my GE’s, transfer to the nearby CSU Los Angeles, and graduate w/ a degree in mathematics to teach math. Because I went to Shadow Day at UCLA, I fell in love w/ the campus. I wanted to go to UCLA. However, I knew I didn’t have the grades for it, nor the money. At the same time, I knew that Santa Monica College had the highest transfer rate to UCLA. One of my close friends decided to take that route, too: SMC to UCLA. Because of my internship at AAAJ-LA, my passions changed around from English to Psychology to Sociology to Asian American Studies. However, SMC didn’t have Asian American Studies as a major, so I settled on Sociology. In the end, it took me quite a while to complete a 2-year community college. My mom even boasted that she finished an AA degree at LA Trade Tech in 2-years, regardless of the fact that things have greatly changed within the past decade. 

For me, there were a number of factors in which took me quite some time to finish CC. Ever since my sister transferred to ASU, I had to take on quite a few responsibilities. Being that my parents are old in age and my brother is mentally disabled & has cerebral palsy, I have to take care of them. Aside from that, I had a few troubles at SMC. For instance, I had to be a full-time student, no matter what. If I was short a unit/credit, I had to find a class to fill that spot up. The reason being is that because of our Section 8 Housing, I have to be a full-time student in order for my family to have lowered rent. If I wasn’t a full-time student, then Section 8 Housing wouldn’t be able to pay for a portion of our rent, and we would have to pay it ourselves. The biggest problem with that is that my mom and sister are the only ones in the family that works. My mom works as a child care provider for LAUSD while my sister works in a different state and she has her own bills to pay for. My dad gets Social Security Income while my brother gets some sort of disability aide. My mom is beyond retirement age, but she refuses to retire; she only works 3 hours a day, five days a week, earning a bit over minimum wage. She says that if she retires, she’ll have nothing to do at home, so she might as well work. My parents don’t want me to get a job because they want me to focus on school, and a job wouldn’t do us any justice if my grades are already suffering w/o a job. The only job I can get at my age right now is probably some sort of labor job, where they will overwork me for very little pay. 

I’m supposed to write more. To get things off my mind, my chest; to empty my mind, to relieve my stress. I’ll try to write more; a post a night, reflecting on my day. 

For some odd reason, I kept waking up in the middle of the night last night. It’s not that I can’t sleep, it’s just that I kept waking up for no particular reason. Well, I can’t say “no particular reason”... There’s a weird lump beneath my left earlobe; I don’t think there’s anything weird with it, though. However, I should get it checked out, ha. 

Just a regular morning today. Left for work at around 10:00AM. Got to the office and started doing some work. There was one point where I decided, during my break, to create an account on my laptop using my Gmail, instead of using the Microsoft account, which I never use. When I created the new account w/ my Gmail, the one I was using deleted, including all of the files that I had, all 2 folders, 599 files. I was extremely upset that that had happened because I was working on my personal statements for my transfer apps. I was stressing for a good 15-20 minutes. At that point, I was just going to leave work and go home or something. At that point, I sort of gave up on everything. As dramatic as that sounded, I had all of the files backed up on my external hard-drive; it’s just that I haven’t backed them up recently, so they’re not up-to-date. What upset me even more was the fact that my Surface Pro didn't have a recovery point. After opening countless random folders on my C Drive, I came upon the TWO most important folders ever: AAAJLA & Organizing; my School folder was backed up into my external already. 2 Folders. 599 Files. Might sound silly, but those 599 files meant a lot to me. Soon after, Li’i came into the intern room and called me into a meeting about DACA. 

She explained to me why we couldn't bring Diego Rivera Learning Complex into the campaign; we didn't have enough supervisors to overlook the responsibilities at the school. I offered to do it, but I was told I’m doing enough already. Ironically, I feel like I’m not doing enough. I don’t really feel happy anymore. I need to find that spark in my passion again. I feel dull inside. Aside from that, I understood why I couldn't, and shouldn't, take over the responsibilities of DRLC; it’s too much for me to handle, especially with everything I've got on my plate. I've yet to tell them I was elected to be on the eBoard of APALA-LA. Although I was reassured that didn't come with many responsibilities. Anyhow, we have a DACA “train the trainer” workshop/training on Saturday. This is the second one; I missed the first one for WCAPSU. In the email that Li’i sent out to prep staff & intern for Sat’s workshop, she listed me under the people who can take the weekend off. I feel bad that I didn't make the first workshop. Missing this one will mean that I didn't attend any “train the trainer” workshop, and I won’t really know what to do/say when presenting about DACA/DAPA/AB60. I offered to help if needed for Saturday. I was, once again, told to stay home. Self-Care. I was also told I needed to cut down my hours at the office. For Feb, I worked 86.5 hours. I was told I needed a break. Ironically, I haven’t been going to work lately. Lately, I've been going to Marco’s house to play video games; it helps me relax, unwind, and destress. GTA5 does that for me. 

I don’t know where I’m going with this blog post tonight. I guess what I’m trying to say is: I don’t feel happy. I don’t know why. I feel lonely. I guess I miss having that “special someone” to talk to everyday. Damn, she fucked me over. It’s been about 6 months already. I shouldn't let that ruin me. I shouldn't. ...But, I am... I feel lonely. It sucks. As much as it seems like I have a sense of direction, I don’t feel like I do anymore. I don’t know what I want to do w/ my life. I don’t know where I want to go to school. I don’t know what I want to do once I graduate. I only know my major(s)/minor. At least that’s a start, I suppose. My plan is to go to CSULA for Spring only. Although I’m still working on my applications, I still want to transfer to either Pitzer College or Pomona College. My parents are totally against that idea, though. & I understand why... If that doesn't go through, I want to go to CSUN for Fall. Li’i told me that a lot of people want me there. They want more Asian American student activists. I suppose I fall into that category. I mean, I do know quite a few professors there, somehow, ha. My parents are probably going to be against me going to CSUN, as well. “Too far.” And, it sort of is... 2-3 hours on bus? That’s taking up too much time for me. 

My supervisor once told me I'm a very compassionate person. Lately, I've been trying to be more of a compassionate person. To be honest, it's a bit difficult when a lot of things/people around you anger you. In the words of vteck (Vanessa Teck), "Everything makes me angry." However, I learn that it's all about how you refocus that anger towards positive. I've learned to take whatever it is that is making me angry, and try to understand why it's making me angry, whether it be something or someone. I think for myself, listening, understanding, and overall, having a dialogue with someone helps me grow into a better more compassionate person. 

Buddha once said, "Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned." I cannot, and must not, let anger take control of my emotions and myself. Once it does, it only harms myself and my relationship with others; it doesn't do any positive whatsoever. I have learned, and am still learning, to redirect that anger into positive change. Understanding why something/someone makes me angry will allow me to approach it in a different manner, a more compassionate manner.