New York
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Same but Different
ASSIGNMENT: One of the first assignment in the masters writing program was to write about the same ‘thing’ but simultaneously completely different. I thought this would be a great opportunity to provide some insights to what being an immigrant is like even with something as simple as grocery shopping. Enjoy. *** Fleeting Memories Time, the Continue reading
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Fortunate Ones
For as long as I can remember, I knew that I would not grow old in Hong Kong. For as long as I can remember I knew that I would not even graduate from primary school in Hong Kong. The plan was always to vacate the tropical little island before it fell back into the Continue reading
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Becoming Independent
My relationship with Māmā has always been strained. Where other children may have been raised to be dependent on their parents, I never really developed such dependency passed the age of 8. We immigrated to New York in February 1978. I was 8 years old and knew only two English sentences telling anyone who had Continue reading
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Latchkey Child
A high-pitched, repetitive electronic chirping rang off in the distance, growing increasingly louder until I recognized that it was the sound of my alarm clock. My eyes struggled to open under the layer of eye crust at the corners and I rolled onto my back, stretching everything. A combination of comforters and throw-blankets cinched around Continue reading
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Saying Goodbye to Home
I was writing a short story about growing up in Flushing, New York and couldn’t recall some details so I Googled it. I typed in my old address and a small panic filled me as I couldn’t find the brownstone I called home. It is an address that I had committed to memory and even Continue reading
The Angry Typist 