21.

Today is my brother's 21st birthday. This picture was taken almost a year ago - we were picking up my friend Catherine in Andrew's new Scion and going to Abbot Kinney's First Friday. Andrew's playing with my Ipod Nano, Umi, which he had just given to me for my birthday, which is 6 days after his birthday. That Ipod has been an anchor for me this year, grounding me when I've felt overwhelmed by life. Who would have thought?

Wherever he is, I love and miss him very much. Happy birthday to my not-so-little brother. I hope it's his best one ever.

Witness.

This is now my last full week of work at the Foyer. Next Wednesday is my last day. It's going to be a bittersweet goodbye. I'm going to really miss the staff and the residents there. I really have loved my work this year.

I've formed such unique relationships with the residents at the Foyer. One resident I see regularly at my workshops and she always provides wise-beyond-her-years insight. With a Maya Angelou-esque voice and gravity. Another resident and I are always talking about working out and making good social decisions. He has been trying to get me to go for a run with him during the fitness workshop, so that might finally happen for the first and last time this Wednesday, if he is able to attend. Another resident and I attended a youth rally planning meeting to protest Mayor Bloomberg's budget cuts toward city youth funding. We planned and then we attended the rally/protest together.

I honestly love each and every one of the residents here because they are so full of character. I definitely have stronger bonds with some, but in being at the Foyer 40 hours a week, I have gotten to see everyone's individual personalities.

For this entry, I wanted to include the "placement story" that I had to write up for GSV's end of year paperwork. The instructions were to write a short story about a relationship that we built with a client, coworker, or community member. We were told to make it personal and discuss something that we learned, how the other person learned or grew, or what we discovered together. I chose to write about one of the residents on my caseload, Alex (name changed for privacy purposes). Here's the story, which provides a little glimpse into my relationships with the Foyer residents.

When I first met Alex, the second resident assigned to my caseload, I felt positive that together we would find a job for him and he would start quickly adding to his savings account. His polite manner and articulate way of speaking seemed to indicate his ambitious, self-starting skills. Despite his intelligent conversation, however, I discovered that Alex struggled with motivational issues and anxiety, tied into his ADHD and bipolar disorder. And because he was not treating the disorders, Alex really struggled with the independent living environment at the Foyer. He regularly blazed through his SSI check and food stamps at the beginning of the month of junk food and online games. He rarely got himself out the door to look for jobs because he had a fear of traveling alone. He regularly lied about his budget and job searches.

After several months of being at the Foyer, Alex still hadn't found a job and still hadn't stabilized his budget. And I had to learn that even though I established a good relationship with Alex, I couldn't make him do anything, nor was I responsible for what he didn't do. All I could do was continue to motivate him and listen to him and be a resource for him.

I discovered that Alex liked to write. One day, a creative writing workshop I helped facilitate led Alex to show me some of his old notebooks. I encouraged him to start writing again to express his feelings, his hopes, his frustrations. He seemed thoughful about the idea but said "maybe" and put the notebooks away.

A couple months later, now about 8 months since Alex had arrived at the Foyer and was placed on my caseload, Alex and I got into a conversation about his anxiety. I asked him about his family history and his life experiences and he opened up to me. He told me he had been physically abused by his mother and had gone through boarding and group homes for most of his life. At the end of the conversation, Alex said, almost childishly, "We just bonded!"

A couple weeks later I received an email from Alex with a short piece of writing he had done, which indirectly reflected his hunger for acceptance and love. He told me that he had remembered my advice and took it.

At the end of my volunteer year at the Foyer, after working with Alex for 11 months, he still does not have a job. But he has grown. He budgets his money better. He goes out into the neighborhood to job search and has even traveled into other boroughs.

As for me, my working relationship with Alex illustrates my biggest role as a volunteer Independent Living Counselor at the Foyer this year: I am a support for my residents, in ways I cannot predict or control. And I am grateful to be a witness to their lives.

Intensity.

Reckoning: I cannot make myself less or worse. I am this intense. I am this alive. I am this powerful. - from Insecure At Last: A Political Memoir by Eve Ensler

I am intense. It's taken me a long time to admit this. By intense, I don't mean manic or neurotic or aggressive. I like to think that even after a year of living in NYC, I've held onto my easygoing West Coast vibes. By intense, I mean that I am a deep thinker, feeler, communicator. It's taken me 22 years to realize that I think a lot, feel a lot, and communicate a lot because I am intense.

My dad wrote me a letter a couple weeks ago mentioning that he knows I "try very hard" and that I may be "a little OCD!" I immediately felt defensive about this. Then I tried to process why it was I felt defensive. (See the intensity?) And I realized that it was because I knew he was right. For example, when I talk to people, I am constantly subconsciously thinking about how my words are coming out and how they are being perceived. I am constantly subconsciouly thinking about why people say or do things the way they do. I have a radar perpetually alert to read the undercurrents and emotions of people around me.

Then my dad wrote, in regards to the OCD, that "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree" (referring to himself in this case, not my mom). And as soon as I read that line, I thought, we (my family) are all so intense. My dad. My brother. Me. My dad is a triathlete and probably works out 40 hours a week (this might be an exaggeration but could also be close to the truth). Intense. My brother left home and cut ties with everyone he knew. Intense. I moved to NYC, came out, and decided to move to Malaysia next year. Intense.

So as intensity dictates, I proceeded to respond to my dad's letter item for item. I often send emails like this, just another indicator of intensity I think. If I send pictures to my family to share my weekend, I have to send little blurbs describing the photos. If I am on a coffee date with my best friends, I always surprise myself by sharing more than I thought I was capable of.

It's surprising to me because for so long I have defined myself as a reserved shy girl. And perhaps at some point I was in my childhood. But I think it's now safe to say that I am no longer that girl. As is so true to my personality, I've repressed a lot over the years.

So today, in the footsteps of Eve Ensler, I declare myself an intense, emotional creature.

And with that declaration comes the admittance that I am not always such a calm, peaceful, quiet person. Sometimes I like to dance like I'm possessed by a crazy bird spirit. Sometimes I have to sob myself to sleep. Sometimes I have to rant about people's insensitive and ignorant comments. Before this declaration, I liked to say that I am a reserved person. And that it takes a lot to shake me. Well, screw that. If I'm a reserved person now, it's only because I have great reserves of feelings and thoughts within. Yes, I am still contemplative and peaceful and quiet, but there is great intensity in my silence.

I must be myself. I cannot break myself any longer for you, or you. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

I wanted to include a brief snapshot in this entry, of the day that the gay marriage bill was passed here in NY state. That evening was intense. My grandma has told me that she remembers watching historic events on TV like the first man on the moon or JFK's assassination. I couldn't help but think that I will never forget how I felt when the marriage bill was passed. I will store that memory and it will remain fresh for a very long time, right alongside the night that Obama became president.

That Friday when the bill was passed, I worked til 10pm. It was the start of Pride weekend though and I knew I just wanted to be out and about. I had no idea the announcement was going to be made on the Senate's decision, but I wanted to start off Pride weekend surrounded by other revelers. Anyway, what seemed like 100 texts later, I convinced 2 friends to go out with me (my usual partners-in-crime, my roommates, were too tired after a long work week).

Jenny met me at work and we got onto the subway towards Christopher Street in Greenwich Village. I wanted to go to Stonewall, the gay bar/club. I hadn't seen Jenny in a while, so our subway ride was spent catching up. Then we arrived at the Christopher Street stop. My phone vibrated in my pocket as soon as we exited the train and it picked up on the signal lost underground. As Jenny and I walked up the subway station staircase, I opened a text from Jess that simply said, "It passed."

It was funny though. I read the text, turned to Jenny, and read it to her - but something wasn't clicking. I think I was a little bit in shock. I don't think I believed it right away. It wasn't until the second that we had fully emerged from the subway station onto street level, stood at the light on the corner across from Stonewall, saw masses of people in the street, and HEARD the collective roar of ecstatic excitement and joy that erupted like a gushing geyser - it wasn't until that moment that it clicked.

And I had the most PEACEFUL sense of rightness within me in that moment. Even as I was jumping up and down, hugging Jenny, tearing up. I felt that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. A California native, who had found a home in New York. Standing on that street corner, waiting to walk, well really run, across to join the celebration, I felt shook up. I felt so proud and honored to share that moment with New York.

Needless to say, the energy that night was unforgettable. My roommates couldn't stay away and left our house to meet us there. While Jenny, Valerie, and I waited for them, we just stood in the street and soaked in everyone's happiness and love. And then we all finally got into Stonewall and danced, through a power outage no less. I will forever think of that night when I hear Lady Gaga's "The Edge of Glory."

Intense.

Spark.

Last week, I submitted a personal essay to Asian American Justice Center, which was asking for submissions about what sparked young Asian Americans' passion for justice. I saw a call for entries on AngryAsianMan.com.

I waited til the wee hours of the morning the night of the deadline to write something up. I had a lot of fun working on it. And lo and behold, it was put up online!

I really do love what I wrote, but I have to mention two mistakes I made. At the end of my essay, I say that some of my uncles had a falling out with my aunt. That is not true and I feel terrible that I misunderstood and misrepresented a story my mom told me a couple years ago. I also say in the essay that only my mom supports my cousin Joanne, but in fact, one of my uncles does as well.

If I hadn't written the essay the night of the deadline, I could have checked my facts with my mom before submitting. But I didn't. And now I can't change what was put up. But that is definitely a lesson learned. In writing, especially in writing about personal matters, I have to check my facts.

Aside from those two mistakes, I am proud of the essay and hope you enjoy it!

"The Spark of Love Within"

Dare to be bold.

"Our arts, our occupations, our marriages, our religion, we have not chosen, but society has chosen for us. We are parlour soldiers. We shun the rugged battle of fate, where strength is born." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Next to Resistance, rational thought is the artist or entrepreneur's worst enemy. Bad things happen when we employ rational thought, because rational thought comes from the ego. Instead, we want to work from the Self, that is, from instinct and intuition, from the unconscious. A child has no trouble believing the unbelievable, nor does the genius or the madman. It's only you and I, with our big brains and our tiny hearts, who doubt and overthink and hesitate." - Steven Pressfield, Do the Work

The idea of "being realistic" holds all of us back. From starting a business or quitting a job to dating someone who may not be our type or moving to a new place - getting "real" often means putting your dreams on hold. Today, let's take a step away from rational thought and dare to be bold. What's one thing you've always wanted to accomplish but have been afraid to pursue? - Matt Cheuvront

This writing prompt comes from a 30-day online challenge called "Self-Reliance" based on the work of Ralph Waldo Emerson. I've been receiving daily emails. The idea is to do a prompt a day, but I've just been saving the ones I like.

This particular prompt, created by Matt Cheuvront, speaks to me a lot. I've realized that I value ADVENTURE. The voice within me that is always questioning, always looking for more, always wanting to BE more - that is the voice of adventure. Adventure is why I studied abroad and travelled so much when I was there. Adventure is why I moved to New York City. Adventure is why I'm going to Malaysia next year.

Adventure is also why I try not to map out my life anymore. Through college, I liked to think of my life in terms of years. As in: I'll gradate from LMU, work a couple years, go to grad school for my master's, get my doctorate by the time I'm 30, start a family in my early 30s. Looking at that tidy little train of a life, I can't help but think - what kind of life is that? How could I possibly limit myself to that? (Also, please note that I am fully aware that I write this from a privileged point of view. I am blessed with amazing parents who have my back personally and financially. This is, nonetheless, my own truth.)

I don't mean to say that that kind of life isn't desirable. It is. I would love to go to grad school and have a family some day. But how could I have thought that those things could be planned 10-15 years into the future? Life is so much bigger than degrees and societal milestones.

Something that amazes me almost everyday here in NYC is how much this year has opened me up to my real true Self. My NYC year has changed how I move through the world. Questioning my sexuality and coming out has changed the way I relate to people. My brother disappearing has changed my family. Being a GSV has changed my language, spirituality, career goals, passion for social justice, friendships. This year has just been an overhaul for me.

I have realized that who I have been previously doesn't limit who I am today and tomorrow. This year has opened me up to my DREAMS.

I think this writing prompt does a good job of explaining why it is I DOUBT myself. I've worked on my big brain more than my little heart. I've limited myself to wanting and pursuing that which those around me have wanted and pursued. A lot of those things are phenomenal. Like going to LMU to get my bachelor's degree. But I know the world is so much bigger than I can see and hear. I've learned to expand what I know and dream, to what I think and feel. And I've definitely opened my heart this year. One of my favorite quotes, now the little epitaph for this blog, is "When my heart breaks open, the whole world can fall in."

Here are some of my current dreams:
- Going to Indo to surf while I'm in Malaysia.
- Traveling to Thailand while I'm in Malaysia.
- Writing a book. I really am passionate about writing and I would love to write a piece of creative nonfiction.
- Spending a season living in a ski town so I can snowboard all the time.
- Spending a season living in the south of France picking grapes. One of my study abroad friends, Sam, had the opportunity to do this and the idea has haunted me ever since. As someone who has never done manual labor for a job, I know I'm being idealistic about this France thing. But there it is.
- Living in the Pacific Northwest at some point. And/or NorCal. And/or Colorado.

Who knows if any of these things will happen. But they're real! And I'm challenging myself now to always follow my instinct and intuition. To live with a BIG HEART (and a little brain too).

Pride.

Today marks the very center of Pride Month. And NYC does Pride Month big, with parades in every borough. I went to Brooklyn Pride last weekend with 2 of my roommates. It was quite an outing (no pun intended). But it was only ridiculous because it took us 2 hours by subway to get there. It would have taken 15 minutes by car. No lie. Part of this extended travel time was the G subway's fault. The other part was my fault because we got on the wrong train twice and had to travel back up and down the same track twice. Oops. Maybe that's a metaphor for the questioning/coming out experience? Once we got to the parade, we were by the start of the route so it was pretty low key. My favorite was some councilmember saying into a speakerphone: "Brooklyn - the lesbian capital of the world." I didn't know the parade would be so educational as well! My roommates and I watched a cheerleading squad do a routine and then headed over to Ginger's, a lesbian bar I've been wanting to check out. It felt good to go out with short hair :) I can only imagine how insane Manhattan Pride will be 2 weekends from now - I'm sure BK Pride was just a teeny tiny preview.

So in honor of Pride Month, my hair cut, the upcoming June 20th NY Senate vote on marriage equality and gender rights, my LGBTQ Issues workshop, and Lady Gaga's new album, I wanted to write an entry about how proud I am to be gay.

I like to think that I started coming out when I moved to New York on August 15. That was exactly 10 months ago. But I've been questioning my sexual identity for many years before this year started. I just didn't know it. Homosexuality just wasn't a reality I entertained for myself. It wasn't in my plane of vision. Anyway, I didn't start this entry with the intention of talking about my sexuality. I wanted to reflect on all the gay-oriented advocacy and education and awesomeness that have been a huge part of my NYC experience. If being gay wasn't in my plane of vision before, I've now (sky)dived into a world where not only am I gay, but I am out and proud and care deeply about gay issues and rights.

- In September, I went to Stonewall and Cubbyhole, well-known gay bars (Cubbyhole is a lesbian bar), for the first time. Stonewall was the setting of the 1969 riots that sparked the national gay rights movement. I mention this not because I had never been to gay bars before (I have, in LA), but because these 2 places became something like go-to places and were normalizing factors for me.

- In November, I went to the NYC LGBT Center to seek out an LGBT counselor because I was struggling with my identity and having a hard time finding motivation and focus at work. I ended up going to my therapist Sue for 3 months. And aside from the fact that it started out as LGBT counseling, going to therapy remains one of the highlights of this NYC year. It was eye-opening and life-giving. And when Andrew left, I was so grateful that I had Sue to help me process that.

- In December, other GSVs and I went to a feminism panel at the Brooklyn Museum. The panel was for a book called "Click: When We Knew We Were Feminists", about which I've blogged before. We found out about the event through Feministing.com. Courtney E. Martin, one of the editors of the book is also a Feministing.com editor. Shortly after that, my roommates started to go to a feminist bookstore called Bluestockings, where coincidentally we saw Courtney again, introducing another speaker. We have been to many feminist book readings at Bluestockings, on topics including the criminalization of gay people and transgender experiences. I'm pretty much obsessed with Feministing.com, Bluestockings, and feminist literature - all of which have been part of my education on gay issues.

- In January, my roommates and I went to an HRC (Human Rights Campaign) women's event on Long Island. It was basically a party to celebrate women. Quite a swanky affair at a beautiful hotel. My roommates and I chased after the hor d'oeuvres waiters and danced like it was the end of the world. But about HRC, I donated $10 when I first moved to NY to become a member and have been getting weekly emails about the fight for gay rights. These emails include news briefs, petitions, video clips and have been instrumental in my education on issues such as the DADT repeal, DOMA, and marriage equality. I proudly display the HRC equality sticker on my agenda which I carry around everywhere at work.

- In April, I took over the LGBTQ Issues monthly workshop at the Foyer. I have really enjoyed them. I love facilitating workshops at the Foyer and being able to talk about LGBTQ Issues with the residents is a great opportunity. I've since run 3 of those workshops. We've talked about coming out stories, defintitions/labels, marriage equality, bullying. The NYC homeless and runaway youth population is full of LGBTQ youth and the Foyer is no exception. A good number of our residents are out and, based on what I've heard at workshops, more are questioning. The Foyer program and Good Shepherd Services is so cognizant of being inclusive. I've been to several agency trainings on LGBTQ issues for work, which I think is amazing.

- Also in April, we went to a drag restaurant for my roommate Krystina's birthday. She's all about the drag queens and gay-ness. She also took us to a drag queen/drag king pageant earlier in the year. Such an experience, full of Nicki Minaj and voguing! All my roommates are so open about homosexuality and supporting it, so that has been something I am so grateful for. I would go so far as to label our little community as specifically gay-friendly. We're that awesome.

- In May, my roommate Jess and I went to an all day rally in Albany called Equality & Justice Day. We went with the New York Civil Liberties Union. We took a bus to the capital to attend workshops on marriage equality and gender rights bills, to speak in person to state senators and representatives, to get pumped about fighting for these bills, and to celebrate gay rights. It was an amazing day and this little blurb doesn't encapsulate how connected and ignited I felt. When I was at LMU, I did one phone bank in the fight to repeal Prop 8 in California. I did it because I thought it was right. Not because I was emotionally attached to the issue. It's funny to me that I've now become so invested in this state of NY, which has been my home for only 10 months. The pictures below are of Jess and I and some friends at E&J Day :)

To conclude, shortly and sweetly, I'm so grateful that NYC has opened up this world to me. I'm so grateful that I very much feel a part of it. It's still new, but I feel comfortable here. A big part of the reason that I would like to live in NYC again is that the gay community here is invigorating and lovely. I feel right, here.

The city that never sleeps.

Yes, it is 5:00AM EST on a beautiful Saturday morning as I start this blog entry. Yes, I am at work. Once or twice a month, I do an overnight shift at work. Overnight shifts at the Foyer are from 12 midnight to 8:00AM (so no, I don't actually know if it's beautiful outside right now). Truth be told, I don't mind overnight shifts. I know that in this city especially, tons of people work through the night. Plus, on weeks that I work overnights, I get Friday day off, work Sunday day, and then get Monday off. It almost feels rebellious. Almost.

I had plans to post a serious, thoughtful, life-revealing entry tonight. Now that more than half my shift is over, I'm not in the mood for insightful philosophizing. So instead, here's a fun list of the perfectly mundane things I like to do on my overnight shifts!

- Surf through YouTube videos from emails, Facebook, and random encounters.
- Watch Glee.
- Watch Modern Family. Except tonight when I tried to catch up, I found I could only watch the most recent episode in its entirety. The others only gave me 90 second previews! What has Hulu come to?? I still have 3 more episodes to watch :(
- Play with my hair. Today is the second time that I've had my hair cut during the day before my overnight shift.
- Talk to residents who come in slightly intoxicated. The really intoxicated ones don't stick around.
- Eat. I get really really hungry constantly during the nights. Probably my body's way of finding comfort since it doesn't get the comfort of a bed.
- Text people. This especially works out for the time difference with LA. One time I talked to Ana for 3 hours, which really helped the time pass.
- Catch up with Feministing.com and AngryAsianMan.com.
- Listen to music. I like to make YouTube playlists on my channel. Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me from keeling over.

And one of my coworkers just informed me last week that Netflix actually works. I thought it didn't. Too bad I only have one or two more overnights here. Nonetheless, we'll see if I can add that to the list as well.

Then of course I do have work. This includes: updating the daily log, doing rounds on the floors, checking my Outlook email, finishing whatever paperwork I have for the week, opening medicine boxes in the morning for a couple of the girls (because of their government funding stream, we have to keep their medicine locked up - we all hate this rule because it's a big inconvenience for everyone).

So in general overnight shifts pass by smoothly and easily. My body usually starts to feel super heavy around 4:30-5:30AM (it's the weirdest feeling - sometimes my body starts to feel like it's sinking into an imaginary bed), but once I get over that pre-dawn hump, I'm good.

Once 8:00AM hits and my relief shows up, I'm out the door! And without fail, the NYC morning invigorates me. Maybe it's leaving work. But I think it's more the eerily but peacefully quiet calm of 7th Ave at that hour. When I walk to the subway, I can see all the way down the avenue, past floating yellow cabs and rows of skyscrapers, all melting into the gray morning. I walk a couple blocks to get on the train for the sleepy ride home. As I join other subway travelers, whether they are going to work or just getting out of work or starting the fun of the weekend, I always feel a deep sense of satisfaction. I live here. I work here. It's happening here, in this legendary mythical city!