The Universal Asian spoke with Katie Bozek, the Executive Director of the Korean American Adoptee Adoptive Family Network (KAAN). We first introduced KAAN, their mission, and organizational activities in October, 2020. Can you tell us about KAAN and how you became involved in this organization? KAAN was founded in April 1998 through a leadership summit that revealed the need for Korean Americans, adoptees and adoptive parents to be connected. The conference is a unique experience to help build a community which blossomed into a place with professionals, researchers, adoptees, adoptive parents, the Korean-American community, etc. This has been an all volunteer-run organization for 22 years but we’re growing by size and membership and now have ASL interpreters and youth programs. KAAN itself came out of a leadership summit in 1998. I was one of the local coordinators for KAAN 2013, and stepped into the role of Executive Director at KAAN in 2018 as the first Korean adoptee. Since the pandemic, we have hosted virtual happy hours and community conversations where we discuss pertinent issues within our community and connect this to broader concepts. What emotions do the holidays bring up for you? Holidays in general are layered, and they mean different things for different people. Any holiday can bring a variety of emotions, especially Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, and birthdays. It’s important to identify and validate your emotions during these times, but it’s equally important to realize emotions are only temporary. What have you found to be the most effective methods of communicating white privilege to white family members? What do you do when a family member doesn’t want to talk about white privilege? You must recognize there are limits to what you can do. Adoptees want our families to understand our experiences, and we believe if our families cared for us then they would make an effort to learn. It is not necessarily an issue of caring or not caring, but being able to have empathy and listen to understand the other person. It’s important to set boundaries—meaning do not continually put yourself in situations where they will continue to invalidate you. There is no one effective method for communicating white privilege, it comes down to how open the person is. Sometimes they simply aren’t ready for it. Families have a tendency to have a fixed mindset that views adoptees as kids, so when we bring up important topics they may be more dismissive. How do you think adoption affects attachment style? How do you create secure relationships? It is an individual basis, but adoptees commonly share the experience of being continually dismissed and invalidated. Outsiders are constantly asking questions and families sometimes avoid open communication. Creating secure attachments is a lot of difficult work to heal from the trauma, microaggressions, and, often, abandonment issues. What advice would you give adoptees who aren’t comfortable with their identity? Starting somewhere and making that first step is vital—our blog is a great place to start! It is important to recognize that you are not alone, and be vigilant of [sic] where you live. Tapping into the adoptee community may be difficult depending on your location, but there are also a variety of resources to connect to virtually! What are some of your 2021 goals? I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions because I believe everyday is a “New Year.” Every day is a new opportunity, and I’m focusing on being intentionally connected. It’s difficult to stay connected with people through the current pandemic, busy schedules, and life events. Also, I want to emphasize the “intentionally” connection, because there’s a difference between a Facebook connection and mailing someone personal notes or talking on the phone or video chat. I’m also focusing on how we, KAAN, stay connected as a community and make it meaningful during these times. During the KAAN Conference they had their own space and were able to connect with the other attendees. We want to make sure they feel comfortable, and we love to follow-up after the conference. We are working through how to replicate those hallway conversations that occur outside of the conference? What advice would you give to your younger self as a woman of color and adoptee? You need to do the work and can’t forget to stay grounded. Find your community; accept yourself, no matter what! Give yourself permission to ask all the difficult questions and think through different answers. What is the best way to get involved for the readers who are interested in KAAN? All contact information can be found on our website at www.wearekaan.org! You can also email for more information at info@wearekaan.org.

Would you please introduce yourself, and tell me more about your background, what you do etc.? My name is Kelsee, and I belong to the subgroup of Asians known as adoptees. I was adopted in 1996 from the province of Anhui, China when I was just 4 years old. My mother, who was a single white American, came all the way to China with my grandmother to pick me up. I was then brought back to America and essentially assimilated into my family. I recognize and value my privilege of growing up in a white community and benefiting from the opportunities, such as formal education. With that said, there is a tradeoff that occurred for these privileges. I lost a piece of myself that I can never regain, no matter how much effort and time I try to understand myself. I’ll speak more about that trade-off as we continue. In my younger years, in my new homeland, fate would take away my adoptive mother and in place, my grandmother would step in to care for me until I reached adulthood. Ironically, my grandmother wasn’t supposed to accompany my mother to China, but fate had other plans for her. My grandmother went with my adoptive mother to China on her first and only trip outside of the country. I’m glad she did, because those moments in China laid out an important foundation for her and my future relationship with her. I’m grateful for her because she essentially ended up with another kid that she didn’t expect to have. There’s a reason for everything, and this is one of the life philosophies that I live by. This life philosophy, taught by my grandmother, would show itself again as the caretaker role reversed itself. I found myself caring for the very woman that cared for me in my younger years. I felt that I came to my family for a reason and this comfort and helps me to cope with my adoption and life transitions. Growing up in a predominantly white community, have you ever struggled with your own identity as an Asian woman and especially as an adopted Asian woman? The short answer is yes, as I am sure many others that share similar beginnings do. I landed in the Midwest in America, and I haven’t strayed far away from it since. To give you a little perspective of my area’s demographics, in the 2000 census in America, it revealed, in my area, that 99% of the community that I inhabited was white and there was only 1% that were of Asian origin. Today’s me is a bit proud of that fact; I added a little historical diversity to my community. There wasn’t a lot of diversity in my area to say the least. As a result, it didn’t provide me with much opportunity to interact with other Asians, let alone Chinese adoptees or the adoptee community. My family also didn’t celebrate festivals like Lunar New Year or anything to do with my heritage. My family is based in Christianity, so we celebrated Easter and Christmas. Because of that, I had little exposure to my heritage, and as I grew older, I didn’t know how to act appropriately when I met other Asian peers or during Chinese festivals. When I was in school, other kids would make fun of me and they even gave me a racist nickname. My new nickname was only used in certain areas and I thought to myself, “What the hell was that? What was the meaning of the nickname?” I didn’t really know what was happening, other than the fact that it was because I was Asian-looking. I did not bother to look it up. That’s all it was—a dumb nickname. But I wasn’t the kind of person who would stir up trouble either. I wanted to fit in, so I would never say anything about it. Looking back, I probably should have said something about it and how I was feeling, but I was taught to stick up for myself in that way by my teachers or family. I was not taught to be proud of my heritage or my differences in general. Not only did I not do anything about the bullying, if anything, I even joined in with that kind of behaviour. It was, unfortunately, self-deprecating. I was in-between two different cultures, and because (of this) I was still trying to figure out where I fit in. I didn’t realize that I can embrace both cultures, so I ended up gravitating towards one only—the one that I’m most familiar with, which was being with the white community. As a result, I denied the Asian aspect of myself for a long time. The name-calling started with the older students, and the younger students followed suit after learning from the older ones. Now, as an older individual who has a platform and better understanding of herself, it’s important to speak out so that the current and next generations don’t grow up with the same misconceptions as my community and I did. I want them to have a better understanding of the differences every culture has. It’s important to recognize those differences and not just try to assimilate others. Things are changing but it’s very slow. It’s one of those things where the more we—the adoptee community—put ourselves out there, the more our community gets that much-needed exposure. The world should know who we are, how we fit in, and that it’s okay that we are not all the same. Are you currently part of any adoptee or Chinese adoptee communities? When I was still in college, I started to do more research and tried to have a better understanding of my own Asian heritage. There was a lot more diversity on my college campus and a lot more opportunities to engage with other individuals from different walks of life. Eventually, I found another adoptee and her experience was very similar to mine; both of us were abandoned at birth but ended up being adopted to America. We just clicked on the same level and understanding. I didn’t have to explain anything to her about my adoption like I did with others. Later on, I started exploring more online community groups. I also watched this movie called "Somewhere Between," which talks about the stories of adoptees, and there was one adoptee who was also from my province. In the movie, the adoptees talked about how they were able to connect with other Asian adoptees, and that really got me thinking about how I can connect with others. Since Facebook is one of the biggest platforms, I decided to search on there. I managed to find a group of other adoptees who were also 20-something. Due to COVID-19, it has really accelerated people’s means to connect with others. The online community has definitely grown so much since I joined. I also learned so much more about myself, such as about adoptions in the early 1990s. (I would be considered part of the first wave of Chinese adoptees.) There were also Korean adoptees, whose adoption wave came before the Chinese adoptees. They, the Korean adoptees, tend to be a lot older than us as a result. One thing you mentioned in our conversation was “learned helplessness.” I find this a very interesting term. Do you mind expanding as to what this term means? Sure. One of the things I learned in college is that children are taught behaviors and they learn behaviors. Learning is a fundamental part of being human. We never stop learning from the early stages of conception to well into our senior years of life. Essentially, “learned helplessness” is the thought that one cannot accomplish a task or achieve a concept due to learning from repeated failures or negative feedback from stimulus around them. This isn’t the exact definition; I encourage those who are interested to look up the exact definition, but it has a big factor in how future behaviors occur in both children and adults What we learn is greatly influenced by our environment and experiences we go through. Now, throw in the life-altering event of adoption into another culture and you have a recipe for learned helplessness to occur. Our identity and self-worth stems from our learning. For me, as a transracial and transnational adoptee of the mid 1990s, I was raised in a race that was not biologically mine and in a country that held different values and beliefs than that of my homeland. Like I had said earlier, in my family, we did not celebrate traditional Chinese holidays. We did not celebrate my arrival day in the form of, “Gotcha Day” or “Family Day.” My family’s values and beliefs centered around Christianity, and as such, we celebrated and recognized the traditions that came along with it. I learned that speaking my native language did not get me what I needed, so I picked up on English quickly. I ate what the family ate. Occasionally, we’d eat Americanized-Chinese restaurant food from the city adjacent to my hometown. I never looked at it as a cultural tie—it was food. Despite retaining my abilities to utilize chopsticks, my family household did not hold such utensils. As the only Asian representation of diversity in my hometown of all-white citizens, I had no reason to want to learn more about my differences. I had learned that I am not Chinese, but was just another member of my family and community. I knew that I was different; that this difference was not necessarily a good thing. I learned to avoid anything that made others question me for fear of judgment or exclusion. I felt discomfort around those who were Asian. “I could not be like them, so why try? Why learn more about my heritage?” These were my thoughts when I was younger. Ironically, the country I was raised in valued individualistic ideas and promoted independence, yet I was taught to devalue my uniqueness and held up to arbitrary standards that I would never be able to live up to due to just the very nature of my biological makeup. As I grew, I continued to learn more about myself. I learned and had to unlearn new ways of thinking that shaped me into the person I am today. Do you think it’s important for children to have a figure to look up to and guide them? Especially when they’re an Asian adoptee growing up in a white community? Yes, I think it is very important that children that are raised in a culture and race other than the one they were born in, are given every opportunity to engage and interact with those who are like them. I never had that growing up and as a result, I lack the ability to properly engage with and be proud of my heritage. I felt awkward, and still struggle to this day, around other Asians. I must constantly fight back my learned, negative thoughts of: “I am not Asian enough” or “You’re not really Chinese.” Being Chinese is not just one construct as some may try to have you think. I think if I had an appropriate figure to look up to, that I’d be less self-deprecating. Having a figurehead is not a 100% guarantee that everything is alright, but it eases that transition and the loss that occurs in a slightly gentler way. At the beginning of the interview, I had mentioned that living in the white community gave me privileges and opportunities. But again, I ask: “At what cost?” The financial cost is nothing compared to the lifelong adjustment a child will go through. Some will be more successful than others. Each of us must learn to cope the best we can. The choice of adoption wasn’t ours and was made for us by multiple parties before we had a voice or understanding . I am also not saying: “Adoption is bad.” What I am saying is that it is important that individuals, be it parents, friends, family members, or community members, understand that adoption can be both a blessing and a life-long struggle over loss. Denying an adoptee’s feeling of sadness over their adoption if they feel this way can be detrimental to some adoptee’s growth and mental health. Adoptees can feel both happy about their adoption and sad too. It’s okay. It’s not a failure, but a realization that things are different. Having a mentor, or someone to look up to, can help in this process of understanding. With our connected world, there are plenty of resources for adoptees to utilize for guidance. If a child is too young, it’s on the parents to act in their child’s best interest and not necessarily their own. There are still pockets of communities that do not have much diversity; but again, it does not mean that there are not any resources for those adoptees to access. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but recently there’s a couple from Youtube who came under fire for adopting a child from China and eventually giving him away because they couldn’t handle him because he had certain learning disabilities. This is heartbreaking because it is as if the child is a mere commodity and they only adopted the child to “save” him/her. However, when they could not deal with him anymore, they gave him away. What is your opinion towards this? Adoption is a hard decision to make. It should not be taken lightly. Adoption involves two families changed forever. Adoptees are not commodities to utilize for what they are worth and then to be thrown away or abandoned when things do not go the way the parent expects it to. Adopting from another race and/or culture is even more challenging. I understand that there is only so much an adoptive family can do with a child, and then they have to make a decision on what is in the best interest of the child. But they need to ask themselves: “Would they do what they are planning to do to an adoptee if the adoptee was biologically theirs or would they continue to fight just a bit harder to not lose the child?” They took in a child, and that child is theirs. If they give that child away, then they are abandoning that child as well. The parents have to live with that guilt of abandoning. Families that have abandoned an adoptee should have an extra layer of requirements to go through before they are allowed to adopt another child. I know we have discussed a lot of different topics today, but is there anything else that you would like to talk about today? To sum up what we discussed today, I would like to re-emphasize that being happy and sad about adoption is okay. How adoptees interpret their adoption, their identity, their culture, themselves is for them to determine. If you see yourself as Asian, then you’re Asian. If you do not, then it’s okay as well. Your feelings are valid, and no one can tell you how you should or shouldn’t feel. Through my journey as an Asian adoptee, I am constantly learning and reevaluating myself. Some days I feel more Asian than others. Some days I’m more interested in my culture than others. It’s all okay. This is my interpretation on being a “Universal Asian.”

The Universal Asian got to know Allison O’Brien, author and illustrator of "Sewn from the Stars," which is available for purchase here. Tell us about your background? I’m a Korean adoptee, and I came to the U.S. as a baby with my twin sister. We were adopted together. I grew up in a suburban area on Long Island, NY. In college, I met some friends who inspired me to pursue meeting my birth family. So, I became interested in Korean culture once I entered college. During my junior year, I studied abroad for a semester at Yonsei University. There, I contacted my [biological] older sister and my mother. Because of that connection, I decided to live in Korea for two years upon graduation, and I taught English. What drew you to design? From a young age, I was always really creative. I was drawing all the time. It’s kind of funny, because many years later, when I first met my birth sister, I found out that she actually majored in graphic design like me. She said she thinks it came from our birth father—that creative drive—because my twin sister is also creative. As a kid, I really loved anime and manga, so that kind of got me into drawing my own characters and writing my own stories. Out of everything you’ve done, what is your favorite type of design and why? I’ve always really liked digital illustration because I enjoy watercolor and I like blendable colors, layering, and adding to my work. I prefer working digitally because it’s easy to erase your mistakes; whereas, on paper it’s kind of what it is. I also prefer illustration over typical graphic design work, like logo design or brochures. I just find I have a lot more creativity drawing. I’ve usually only done digital illustration. I mean, I can paint, but I don’t do it very often. How would you describe your design style? I would say “soft and airy,” because I like watercolor. So, anything that really blends together. I love fantasy, so anything with those kinds of elements. I also really like painting flowers, so I guess kind of feminine too. What is "Sewn from the Stars" about? "Sewn from the Stars" is a fairytale that takes place in ancient Korea. The main character is a girl named Ha Neul, which means “sky” in Korean. She works for her aunt sewing hanbok, which are traditional Korean dresses. And, when the King of Joseon asks for a hanbok for the queen, she embarks on a journey to make the most beautiful hanbok in the land. So, it’s about magic, and she meets a couple of interesting characters along the way. What inspired you to write it? As a child, I recall only seeing children’s books with beautiful blonde or white girls as their heroine. So growing up, I had a bit of a complex about being Asian. I grew up in a primarily white community, so I really felt like I wanted a connection with the characters in some of the stories I read. The only memorable story with an Asian female lead was "Mulan," so that was one of my favorite movies and still is. It was my goal to create something with a strong female heroine, someone who was Korean, and creative like me. What made you choose children’s literature over any other? I felt that there weren’t many Korean children’s books, specifically, written in English. So, I wanted to create something that other adoptees, Korean or Asian-American, and even parents of adoptees, could relate to. I also knew I wanted to illustrate it, and children’s books/picture books was really the way to go. Additionally, I’d like to get kids interested in other cultures from a young age. I felt like I didn’t open my eyes to the world, or get interested in traveling, until I entered college. It just wasn’t something that I was exposed to from a young age. How did the illustrations come together? I came up with the idea first by illustrating the cover. I knew I wanted it to have something to do with Korean culture. So I drew the cover, then I came up with the characters, and I wrote the story in Word. I did the sketches and illustrations last. Kind of like how I talked about before, I did everything digitally at the time. Is there a lesson you want readers to take away from the book? Without giving too much away about the story, there’s this one part in the book where Ha Neul meets a boy. And, although it’s clear after she talks to him that he comes from a more privileged background, she kind of realizes that they actually have a lot more in common than she thought. I like the idea of incorporating mature lessons into books that are meant for younger readers, where adults can still take something away from that kind of book. There’s this overarching idea of family, love, and following your dreams. I hope that I can inspire my readers to dream big, and to see past their own inherent prejudices. What are the pros and cons of self-publishing? I think if I had my book published by a company, marketing my book would be so much easier because it’s hard to get exposure on your own. But, I decided to only publish an ebook for now because printing a fully illustrated picture book is quite expensive. I am looking into having hard copies printed further down the line, but right now this format is the most accessible and affordable. Ultimately, when I was thinking about it, my main goal was just to get my book out there for people to see and read. Finding someone to publish your book is a really long process. I did try sending out query letters a few years ago, but I finally decided that I just wanted it out there rather than collecting dust on a shelf somewhere. I wanted everyone to be able to read it. Is writing a book something you’ve always wanted to do or was that a spontaneous thing? I’ve always wanted to write a book because I’ve been drawing and writing since I was a kid. In elementary school, almost every day I would write short stories, because that was just something I enjoyed doing. I’m also a really big fan of fantasy novels and young adult novels, so it’s kind of always been a passion for me. Do you have any plans to write another book in the future? I’m considering writing and illustrating another children’s book, when I have the time. I just don’t have any ideas yet. I’m always drawing, so I’m sure I’ll come up with something. If not, I do sometimes dabble in writing young adult stuff. I haven’t published it yet, but I’m thinking about it. However, I’m definitely looking into publishing something else in the future. Website: https://www.allisonobri.com/about.html

The Universal Asian had the pleasure of interviewing Lyla Mills, founder of Adopted, Chosen, Loved, which is a mentorship program that places older and more experienced adoptees with younger adoptees to explore interests and develop a lifetime bond. What is your adoption story? I was adopted from China at three months old and raised in Alpharetta, Georgia, a suburb outside of Atlanta. Growing up, I wished I had an older sibling or someone to openly share my journey of adoption with. I created this program hoping to establish a big sister/brother environment to help younger adoptees navigate that experience. Can you tell us more about the program you organized called Adopted, Chosen, Loved? It’s created a welcoming sense of community! Mentors are matched with mentees depending on their experience, interests, and goals. I worked really hard to establish a family environment, and that’s what we’ve created! All mentors are like older siblings and even connect with the mentees’ parents! We hold different events from Netflix movie parties to makeovers with middle schoolers. Everyone gains a new perspective and a chance to connect with others. When was the first time you experienced discrimination towards your race or story of adoption? In elementary school, my class was singing “America (My Country, ‘Tis of Thee).” There were probably about three other students who weren’t white, and my teacher pointed at us as we sang the lyrics “my native country, thee” and instead forced us to sing “my chosen country, thee.” Of course I didn’t think anything of it during the time, but looking back it shows how misconstrued our American education system is. With the holiday season coming up, what types of emotions do you feel? Do you face any racist family members? I have a small family, so holidays aren’t lonely for me. It’s always myself and my parents, and we go to different locations depending on the holiday. My grandparents fought in WWII, so I’m glad that they aren’t racist towards me. Even though I’m Chinese, they do tend to group Asians together. Because I have a strong connection with my immediate family, the holidays usually bring up feelings of anxiety. I think about what will happen when my family passes away and when I’m all alone. I’m scared because I lost my birth family, and I don’t want to lose my adoptive family also. I try and focus on the positive memories I’m creating now, but I know all feelings are valid. What activities do you engage in outside of Adopted, Chosen, Loved? I actually created Adopted, Chosen, Loved because of the extra time I had due to the coronavirus. If it wasn’t for this pandemic, this program wouldn’t have been established. At first, it started off by connecting a few people; I never thought it would grow to what it is now! However, I’m also a law student. Every summer, my mother would bring me to a camp in Atlanta, which saved me in a way. Everyone had a different background and it was a fresh experience, and was nice to get out of my suburban town. One year this girl at camp introduced me to her boyfriend, and the next year I found out he shot and killed her. People began making nasty comments about how he was a Black man and she was a white woman, and I wanted to get to the bottom of the case due to the close nature of the crime. I secured an internship at the District Attorney’s office in Atlanta, and it further inspired me to become involved with multiculturalism in the criminal justice system. Have you returned to China? Are you interested in looking for your birth parents? I know a ton of transracial adoptees want to connect with their heritage, but I never felt that desire. When I was younger, my parents tried to educate me about my Chinese heritage. I was never interested at the time, and they eventually gave up, which is something I regret. I wish I had maintained some type of connection, but we can only continue to move forward. However, I’ve always been interested in the chance of having biological siblings. I wonder who my biological parents are, but it is not something I’m actively searching (to find out). I was angry with my birth mother for a while, which presented itself as hatred towards myself. I eventually came to terms with the fact that adoption was her only option. During that time in Chinese history, women had to hide their newborn daughters, or place them for adoption, in hopes of a better life. One night, I was watching this movie about a teenage mother, and it completely shifted my perspective of what it’s like to have a child when you’re not prepared. I know we will always be connected, and I am eternally grateful for my life now. Do you think transracial adoptees of white families have white privilege? Such an interesting topic. I think it’s contextual, sometimes we have access to white privilege and sometimes we don’t. Being transracially adopted shows the struggles of not fitting into minority or white racial categories. We have higher chances of getting a call back from recruiters reading our name on a resume, but we still experience racism due to the fact that we aren’t white. What’s your favorite part about being adopted? That’s such a great question. My favorite thing is the life I’m living now, and the thought that no one knows what it would’ve been like if I wasn’t adopted. The adoption community has an incredible support system, and I would not be where I am today without them. They truly make me feel adopted, chosen, and loved. What advice would you give adoptees, especially young adoptees of color? Don’t let the negatives get to you and ruin your compassion. I know it gets lonely, but once you establish a support system your life completely changes. Learn to be accepting of yourself. My mom always said: “You’re never going to be the smartest or the prettiest person in the room, but find the people in your life that make you feel like you are.”

The Universal Asian is excited to introduce Dr. Jordan VanHemert, a gifted saxophonist and composer. His new album “I Am Not A Virus” will be available to the public in early 2021. Tell us about your background? Where did you grow up? Where did you study? I grew up in West Michigan, which, ironically enough, is where I now reside. I promised myself when I was 18 years old that I would never ever return to this place—I was not a fan—and life brought me back here. I have a Bachelor of Music from Central Michigan University, a master’s degree from the University of Michigan, and I recently completed my doctorate from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. How did you get into music—specifically, the saxophone? After my grandfather passed away, my family inherited his CD collection. I used to sit on the floor of the living room and just listen to music over and over and over again. So, one time, I was just listening through, and one CD I stuck on was The Essential Charlie Parker. I listened to that CD, and I remember the exact recording that came on, that first track. It was Charlie Parker’s recording of “Stella by Starlight” from Charlie Parker with Strings, and I was completely hooked. I had no idea up until that point what a saxophone sounded like—I had no idea. So from that moment on, I was kind of fixated on the saxophone. When I got my first saxophone in sixth grade I just couldn’t put it down. We didn’t really have to practice the music in middle school; I just did because I loved playing it. At the career fair, everyone was like: “Oh, what do you want to be when you grow up?” and I thought about it and I thought: “Well, being a professional musician would be pretty cool.” I didn’t know it at the time, but I thought: “Yeah, playing the saxophone every day and getting paid to do it, that sounds great. That sounds like the life for me.” What is it about jazz that draws you in? Who are your favorite artists? Improvisation. The idea that you can just spontaneously create with no previous thought of what comes out the other end of the instrument. To me, that was always a really fascinating process. But, more than that, I grew up in a place where I rarely saw people of color playing music. Like, at all. And one of the first places where I saw any kind of BIPOC musician was jazz. My idols growing up, and I would say still now, were Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Hank Mobley, and Joshua Redman—all of whom are African American. What is the most rewarding part of performing for you? What is the most difficult part? I really think that during this time, in a global pandemic, you really understand how meaningful it is to share music with other people. It’s been a while since I was able to do that, at least in a live situation. I think live music is so cool because anything can happen. The performance will be completely different even if you play the exact same thing the same way night after night. It’s completely different. And, to me, that is one of the most rewarding things. You’re creating an experience, sharing an experience of what it means to be human, and you’re sharing that experience with people in a way that everybody understands. The most difficult thing for me about playing music is to overcome the judgment zone with my own playing and composing. I am very new to the concept of not judging your work, but it’s something that I pass on to all of my students: “Don’t judge yourself, don’t judge your work. When you get off stage, don’t start thinking immediately of things that you could have done better.” I’ve always been kind of a perfectionist, and that element of myself has always been my worst enemy. You’re set to release a new album next year called “I Am Not A Virus.” What can you tell us about it? Well, this really has been a labor of love for me. I almost cancelled this entire session; this album almost didn’t exist. When I had originally planned the recording session, this was pre-COVID; and then COVID happened. It was devastating, first of all, to the music community, and second of all, to the Asian and Asian-American community. All of that led to me being very, very fatigued. There was about a month where it was really difficult for me to even write any music. In April, I was thinking: “Okay, we have this recording session scheduled for July, am I going to be ready for this.” What I ended up coming to was that the music was really important for me to share. There was something specifically that I could say about living in the year 2020 as an Asian-American that I wanted to say. I thought about how we would remember this year, especially how our community has been, in various ways, oppressed throughout this time. I realized I had to say something, and I had to say it in the way I felt most comfortable with. And it just so happens that it flows out of the activist tradition of jazz music. So I thought it was a perfect way to say: “I am Asian-American. I am also a jazz musician. And I am here to say that this is what I am really experiencing.” Your latest release directly addresses the Black Lives Matter movement and the oppression Black Americans have faced since the foundation of this country. What can the Asian and Asian-American community do to be conscientious, earnest allies in the fight for justice? That’s a great question. When I wrote that song, I was so broken and frustrated and angry about the most recent killings of unarmed Black individuals—Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, George Floyd. I’ve been asked the question: “This is an Asian-American activism album, so why is there a tune called ‘Black Lives Matter’?” My response to that was that first of all, people of color need to stand together. We need to stand with our Black brothers and sisters because that’s what they have done and would do for us. The most heartbreaking thing, the most appalling thing for me is when I saw the video of George Floyd’s killing, when I saw an Asian police officer just standing by and not doing anything. That haunts me. That image haunts me. I think it’s a good metaphor for the way that we need to move forward because the fact of the matter is that while we all experience racism in different ways, by continuing to fight alongside our Black brothers and sisters I believe that we make life better in this country for all of us. We need to see ourselves as parts of a larger community of color. The way forward is, first, to stop being bystanders. An attack on one group of people of color is an attack on every one of us. The more we think that way, the less we are minorities. We’re so much more powerful and our activism is more enabled. It’s a complex question, one that I don’t think I’ll ever answer perfectly, but the idea is that we need to, even if we fail, we have to try. We have to start trying in ways that matter, in ways that are actionable. There was a tangible backlash against Asians and Asian-Americans after the initial outbreak of the COVID-19 pandemic. What steps, artistic or otherwise, do you think we can take to stop the spread of hatred and racism in this country? The first thing we need to do is talk about this stuff, about these issues. And be open. I think, a lot of the time, our community doesn’t speak up for itself. We experience things, and then we bottle them up and bury them inside. When we do that, it’s almost like we erase the evidence of our own struggles. We need to start speaking out, and start talking to people about dismantling the model minority myth. As much as people in our community can have the misconception that it’s helping us, it absolutely is holding us back. Be on the lookout; be vigilant about those kinds of terminologies being thrown around. Understand our own history. I think we have a very bad short-term memory as a community. Right now it’s COVID, but before that it was Yellow Peril, before that it was Japanese internment, the Chinese Exclusion Act, etc. etc. etc. We’ve somehow been fooled into thinking that we’re not at as much of a risk. That’s something we need to check ourselves for. The more we do that, the more we dismantle the model minority, the more we understand how much we actually do have to gain here. The second thing is sometimes we’re our own bystanders. Learn to speak up for yourselves and say: “No, that’s not okay.” Hold our elected officials accountable. Hold the words that they speak accountable. Hold them accountable for their actions. One of the fundamentally important things for us is to come together as a community. Because the more I talk to other Asians about things of this nature, no matter where someone is from, everybody says, universally, that we have experienced these things. The more that we can come together around these things and present a united front, the more our world is going to start looking better. You’re also an educator. What do you want people to take away from your music? In the art form of jazz, the nature of the music is that is inherently accepting. The great Jimmy Heath always used to say that jazz is the truest and purest form of democracy that we have. Everybody gets a voice. Everybody gets a say. And jazz doesn’t say that you have to be somebody. It demands that you respect the lineage and the ancestry, but it does not tell you who to be or what to play like. It invites you to contribute all of yourself. And in that way, with this record, I’m contributing myself. For any young musicians who are Asian, I would want them to take away that there is somebody who hears you; there is a music that sees you. We can do this. We can be present in this world. We can be represented in this community. Our voices are important, and our voices are powerful. Website: https://www.jordanvanhemert.com YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC1ql5_vRzOpcyoE4ZlhN5HQ

Can you please introduce yourselves and how you both started the podcast “Adopted Feels”? Hana (she/her): Hi, I’m Hana. I was adopted from Korea to Australia, but I’m now living and working in Seoul. I actually met Ryan a few years ago in Melbourne, and it was their idea to create this podcast. We discuss issues related to adoption, race, and identity, and aim to create a safe adoptee-centric online space. We’ve been doing it for over a year now, and it’s also been a really nice way for us to keep in touch. Ryan (they/them): I’m Ryan; and I was adopted to Melbourne when I was around four months old. However, I actually spent most of my childhood in Taipei. Due to my father’s work, the family relocated to Seoul and lived there for roughly four years.  In hindsight, it was quite a unique experience as an adopted Korean to be able to spend quite a number of years in Korea. After high school, we moved back to Melbourne, and I’ve been living there ever since. The podcast with Hana has been a really wonderful and rewarding project. I have also been doing academic research on Korean adoption for the past couple of years. What was your experience like growing up as an adoptee? Hana: I was adopted into a white Australian family within a predominantly white community. I felt very self-conscious growing up and I just wanted to fit in. I basically wanted to be white. I have a good relationship with my adoptive family, but when I was growing up, they couldn’t really help me develop a clear sense of being Asian, or an adopted identity, or how to deal with racism. Living in Australia as a transracial adoptee, I experienced various microaggressions regularly and struggled to integrate my various identities. It’s through connecting with the broader Korean adoptee community that I’ve found guidance and support for dealing with these kinds of things. Ryan: I have a different background to Hana because my family was already multiracial before I joined them. My mom grew up in Singapore and immigrated to Australia, and my father is Swedish. So, in a way, they were already kind of foreigners in Australia. Although my mom and I don’t look alike, I think some people would assume that I was from my mom’s first marriage. So, I suppose you can say there were a few different ways in which our family “configuration” was perceived, and my being adopted wasn’t always so clear to people. I spent most of my childhood and adolescence in Asia. However, as I went to international schools, I can only really speak English, and most of my teachers were white. Even though I didn’t grow up in a Western country, whiteness still structured a lot of my experience, and I did internalize a lot of racial discourses. At what point in your life did you feel like connecting with your own heritage? Hana: For me, the real turning point was when I came back to Korea for the first time since my adoption. That was 10 years ago now. It was really significant for me to visit Asia for the first time and to physically blend in and feel this real sense of safety and freedom in my own body. After that trip, I started to explore what being Korean meant to me, and I started to slowly identify as an Asian person. This also started a process of feeling more comfortable in my own skin and beginning to appreciate my Asian physical features. I also started to learn about Korean culture, language, and history—including the history and context of transnational Korean adoption. Ryan: For me, that happened a lot later, probably only within the last five years or so, despite having lived in Korea during high school. I don’t think I was prepared to move to Korea, and I don’t recall my parents having a conversation with me about my feelings around moving to the country of my birth. All I remembered was that when I first moved to Korea, I felt pretty different. I didn’t know Korean cultural norms and expectations – for instance, using specific terms and bowing to kids older than you. I thought it was a bit bizarre, and I felt pressure around not knowing what was expected of me. I felt that I was pushed into this space where I was supposed to know how to behave, but I had no pointers! I think I probably rebelled against it. So, at the time, all I could see were my differences from, and not commonalities with, Korean people and society. It was only later in life that I started to become more interested in learning about Korean culture. I’m not sure if there was a particular turning point, but rather a gradual and growing acceptance and interest. I guess I realised that if I don’t start asking these questions on behalf of my future self, for instance, about my birth mother, one day when I’m older and if I do want to look for her, it will be too late. What is the best thing about doing the podcast “Adopted Feels” together? Was there a specific episode that you particularly enjoyed doing? Hana: One of the cool things about hosting a podcast is that it gives you a reason to contact anyone and ask them to have a conversation with you. We’ve been able to talk to amazing artists, activists, therapists, and just really inspiring people. I’ve also been so struck by our guests’ openness and vulnerability when they were talking to us. I think partly because we’re both adoptees, adoptee guests are more inclined to open up with us. It’s been a real privilege to bear witness to their stories. The tone of our episodes varies a lot. Some are more frivolous and some are a bit heavier, such as adoptee mental health, which is a really important topic for me. We did a series on adoptee suicide that was partly motivated by some recent suicides within our Korean adoptee community, including one Australian-Korean adoptee who was a friend of ours. I’m actually really proud of that series because it was something that we still need to openly acknowledge and talk about more within our community. Ryan: I totally agree with Hana, but just to add—the episodes we have on adult adoptee therapists and/or adoptee mental health, have tended to be the most downloaded. I think that’s kind of indicative of what information or support people are seeking. That said, I love all the episodes we’ve done, especially the ones which feature multiple guests. It just adds that extra dimension, when you can hear and feel the connections and rapport guests have with each other. What are your plans for the future? Do you plan to expand your podcast into something more? Hana: Recently, we have been asked to create some educational resources for a wider audience, e.g. counselors and social workers who are working with adoptees. Honestly, we’ve just been taking it one step at a time, and we haven’t necessarily been planning anything too far into the future. Ryan: I think when we first started the podcast, we were thinking as to whether we should do seasons or just let the podcast roll. We decided to just let it roll and it’s been a surprisingly enriching experience. I’m really glad we made that decision. I think my dream is to just keep doing what we have been doing. Hopefully we will be able to find more people to come on and chat with us. I love receiving feedback from people that are listening in, especially those who take the time to send us direct messages to let us know that they enjoy it. It’s so meaningful to us. In general, I’ve just really enjoyed the process. Hana: Yea! We often get these messages from Korean adoptees who live in tiny white towns in the middle of nowhere to let us know that our podcast played a small role in helping connect them, no matter where they are. It gave them access to conversations around race and adoption that they might not have where they’re located. I think one of the upsides of COVID-19 is that Zoom meetings are now so normalized. So, it’s made us more brazen in who we approach, and we just figure out the time zone difference. Sometimes, we also invite guests who aren’t adoptees, but perhaps have a similar experience around race, identity, or family separation, and are able to provide a useful perspective. You can listen to Hana and Ryan’s podcast “Adopted Feels” on all platforms via: https://adopted-feels.simplecast.com/episodes.

What was it like growing up as an adoptee? If anyone thinks about it, when they’re a kid, you’re not really aware of these kinds of things. Recently, I had this moment where I tried to explain to other Asian-Americans or people of colour that I can just point to any couple, who are white, walking down the street and say they could be my parents. My parents are exactly like them. I can identify more with the white American culture than Asian-American culture because I didn’t really know about Asian food or the language or any of those reference points. Despite that, there were still some types of unspoken signals to me that I didn’t fit in with white culture, and I really couldn’t understand why. However, I just kind of accepted it and absorbed it. In a lot of ways, it was damaging, but in other ways, I took ownership of it and told myself that I don’t have to put up with this. I’m just going to be my own person and figure it out. It wasn’t until I started spending more time with Asian-Americans that I started hearing different stories. I was also able to identify with the things that they talked about such as being treated in the same way—as we are externally perceived as the same. It wasn’t until I was 25-30 years old when I finally started to kind of come out and realise that the world sees me as Asian-Korean. I thought to myself that I should probably figure out what that means for me and how to respond to it. With everything that has been going on with politics and race relations in the U.S., it’s been so much for us to realise that we have a lot of internalised racism because of the way that we learned about racism from our white parents, especially in terms of anti-blackness. I grew up in Chicago, in a nice white suburban area of Chicago, which was right next to the more crime-ridden, predominantly black and impoverished west side of Chicago. That’s how race was taught to me in a very clear-cut and explicit way. It sends the message that being black is poor and dangerous, etc. It took me moving to Portland, Oregon to realise that my education around race was totally wrong. For about a few years, I volunteered with the Asian Pacific American network of Oregon. That really helped build a network for me to meet other Asian-Americans who all had different experiences of being hapa, first or second-generation immigrants, refugees etc. We were all able to hold a space together for all our experiences, but there still wasn’t much representation or acknowledgement of the adoptee experience. For a long time, I heard a lot of people talking about how their grandparents immigrated or about internment camps or refugee experiences and that they descended from them and learnt all about their cultures from their ancestors. Whereas I’m here twiddling my thumbs and thought to myself "I can’t really relate to this." But, I also don’t feel comfortable talking about my white family because in these places, there are a lot of associations with having a white family to being privileged and having a better life, which is all kinds of mixed messaging and traumatic. I grew up in an upper-middle class white neighbourhood so I went to good schools, had healthcare and all those things. However, in terms of identity, there wasn’t a whole lot there. The attitude that a lot of adoptive parents had was just to raise them as if they were your own. It did take 30 years before I was able to finally come out again. I say come out because I also identify as queer! Not sure if you have heard of the comedian Joel Kim Booster before. But he’s also a gay Korean adoptee. In his comedy shows, he tells all these funny jokes; and one of them was that he knew he was gay before he knew he was Asian. That just spoke to me so hard because it’s the weirdest situation to be in. Someone told me before that being gay is more of a logistical identity aspect to figure out, whereas the Asian part is more of an emotional and cultural aspect of your identity… Every aspect of me coming out at different stages is like coming out of a different closet; first I’m a person of colour, then I’m Asian-American, then I’m Korean, and then I’m actually a Korean adoptee. I realised that when I met other Korean adoptees that we really support each other and understand that experience. From my understanding, Yeondae wasn’t created purely for Korean adoptees, but it’s also a platform to show solidarity towards the Black Lives Matter movement? Yes, and I want to address the complexity that comes from supporting the Black Lives Matter movement from the experience of being Korean adoptees. We carry certain privileges, but also our own racial traumas, that in this moment, in Portland (Oregon), requires careful consideration in how we demonstrate solidarity with Black lives. So we talked about how we, especially as Korean adoptees, have this close proximity to whiteness because we’re basically taught how to be white. However, we still encounter situations where we can no longer be white and being Asian still separates us out and we still get discriminated against. As such, by being able to focus on that and recognise how white supremacy operates in our experiences, we can dismantle that and target white supremacy as a problem. There is also this whole aspect of colonisation and we are colonised people who were taken from our country and raised to be white. Just like the US and other countries have done with indigenous folks and Black people. Personally, I found discussing topics like BLM with the older generation slightly challenging. There were passing comments such as "people should just work harder and stop complaining." Have you also experienced similar things, especially as an organisation who will inevitably have these types of conversations with people within the Asian community? That’s interesting. Actually, a couple of us last summer in 2019, who were at the moment of realisation of our adoptee identities, wanted to organise a panel series with the Asian Pacific Network of Oregon (APANO) where we educated ourselves and the general public. So, we put on this panel series about the past, present and future of what it meant to be a Korean adoptee and seeing how it was actually the first and biggest movement in the history of transracial transnational exploitation of babies. It all started in Oregon by the Holt Family, a missionary couple who came to Korea right after the war. Due to the colonisation and occupation from Japan and the U.S. and other places, it affected Korea a lot. In addition to the culture of being so shaming towards women having children out of wedlock and other things, it resulted in a lot of unwanted babies. So, we have what we call the first wavers, who are Korean adoptees and grew up in the U.S. in the '60s and '70s and would probably have a very different outlook on race and racism. They owe their lives to the U.S., so they tend to be grateful for being American. In some ways, you can’t blame them, but also again they benefited from that in a very different way at a different time. As a result, there’s always this bootstrap narrative among that generation. It does take a delicate conversation to suggest to them that it’s not like that anymore. Now, we are kind of seeing that attitude at its worst. The whole model minority myth as well plays a huge role resulting in many false presumptions. However, at Yeondae, we realised that we, as East Asians, have a closer proximity to whiteness and more access to boardrooms and people in power. We just want to be as honest, transparent and authentic as possible. I think the whole system just operates in a way that if you comply with whiteness and become assimilated into it, completely blind to all other ways, our powers are being limited or manipulated. So, we want to exercise that and make sure that the messages are going through to the higher levels. Just because we’re also allowed in white spaces doesn’t mean that we will comply. We have this agenda to continue bringing and keeping that door open to other people of colour because we recognise that white people are more prone to listening to us. I’m actually reading this book called "The Primal Wound" which is about adoption. It talks about the reality [of being given up] that gets glossed over so much around adoptees because, for our whole lives, we were fed this very sugar-coated narrative that we were saved from our impoverished, sick and poor family into this privileged and wealthy family. Some people believe that because we were adopted as infants, it’s not as impactful or traumatic as being adopted as grown kids. But the reality is, as the book says as well, it’s being taken from your birth mother at an age when you needed her the most. No matter how good your adoptive parents were, that’s not the same bond. Have you ever had conversations about race, identity and #BLM with your family? Personally, I have not. I deliberately chose to stop communicating with my family about 3-4 years ago. Like I said, every adoptee experience is different. Some have similar experiences, but some have more violent histories with their families than I do. Others have perfectly wonderful relationships with their families and can openly talk about race and adoption. My adoptive parents only had so much capacity and they’re not really fully prepared or equipped to handle these things. At Yeondae, we are doing a lot of internal work. We just had restorative justice training and we had so many conversations about conflict, resolution and transformative justice. We also learnt what it is like to have non-violent communications especially in terms of micro-aggressions and addressing our white co-workers or family members. It’s just a weird situation to be in for our 60-70 year old white parents to fully understand our experience not as their child, but as an adult who has this experience that doesn’t have anything to do with them but also, at the same time, has entirely to do with them . Is there anything else specific you would like to bring up today? I also want to make sure to bring up another major action that Yeondae is focusing on right now, which is adoptees’ rights. I’m not sure if you’ve heard about the recent case of this Korean-American adoptee Kara Bos, who won this landmark case. She was able to find her biological father who refused to meet her, so she filed a lawsuit against him and the country of Korea for a DNA test to prove that she was his daughter to ultimately have access to know who her mother was. We were able to host an interview with her to not only learn about her first-hand experience, but also how she created all these resources that are now available for other adoptees going through that birth search. That’s just a huge life choice of whether or not we choose to find our biological families. So, Kara was zooming from Panama and she told her story which was really tragic. But, the most tragic part about her story was that it could be any of us. In addition to that, a group called Adoptees For Justice are also in the middle of working on this Adoptee Citizenship Act. In the year of 1984, I believe, adoptees didn’t have automatic citizenship in their paperwork and for the past two years, this act has been stagnated in the government. Because of Yeondae, we were able to get two different people from Congress from the state of Oregon to sign onto that. We’re getting really close to getting it because there are so many adoptees who have been deported because of inaccurate paperwork. There are so many cracks in the system and the government just straight up deport these folks who may have committed a misdemeanor when they were a teenager, but now they are sent to a completely foreign place where they don’t speak the language and don’t have any resources. It’s pretty scary! On a positive note, what are Yeondae’s plans for the future? Our core value and mission, from my perspective, always boils down to supporting the Korean adoptee community. Maybe just in Portland for now, but with the benefits of Zoom and the Internet, we’re also connecting and building coalitions with all kinds of organisations across the country and around the world with similar motives as ours. The more we learn about inter-continental adoptions, the more opportunity we see to join our voices and dismantle this exploitive system from every angle. I believe that what makes Yeondae really special and unique is that most other Korean adoptee organisations operate on a more surface or social level, which is great, but often they won’t dig deeper into certain aspects such as trauma, justice and race, etc. So we’re hoping that with Yeondae, we can bring people together on a greater level of community healing and transformative justice in whatever ways we can share with each other. To learn more about Yeondae or get involved, connect with them on one of these platforms: Website: https://yeondae.org/  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/yeondaeofficial Instagram: @yeondae.support

The Universal Asian had a chance to learn a bit more about Kate Powers and what drives her to work as a life coach and a mindset coach. Tell us about your background. I was born in South Korea and raised in the USA since I was an infant. I grew up in St. Louis, MO and after college I was excited to experience life in other cities and moved to Washington, DC. It was a great and fascinating change of scenery from my small midwestern town. I experienced culture shock at first but ultimately enjoyed a few wonderful years in DC. I then wanted to experience living in another big city so I moved to Chicago, IL. After these two amazing cities in the U.S., I figured, “Well, why limit myself when the world is so big and grand?" I moved abroad to Seoul, South Korea, eager to explore Asia and this part of the Earth. I was open and ready to take on whatever life threw my way…even a global pandemic! I’ve been fortunate to have a variety of experiences in life, personally and in my work and leisure. I’ve had many interesting experiences, jobs and robust experiences living in different cities. My life feels alive, rich and unique. And a bit wild! How did you get into coaching and specifically life and mindset coaching? It has always seemed to follow me. It really feels like it got into me versus me getting into it! I have been drawn to encouraging others since I was very young. As a teen, I was a dance teacher encouraging young kids to express themselves creatively. I worked in mental health, counseling and psychiatry both in college and after, and that all naturally led me to the world of healing arts. All my work focused on uplifting others and helping people use their potential. Even when I tried to ignore this calling and do other work, it still followed me wherever I went and no matter what I did. The terms “life coach” and “mindset coach” can be confusing and obscure, but it also can be helpful to call my work “something” with a title but overall, ultimately, what I really do is help guide people to change their thoughts and awareness. Some call it coaching, some call it guidance, some call it counseling, some call it therapy, some call it healing. It is essentially all of these. And all of these have been central in my life both personally as a recipient of these modalities and as a practitioner studying these same modalities. I don’t get hung up on the titles though even if others do. I focus more on results I have witnessed in others (and in myself). I help people discover, remember, and reveal their own confidence and live from that place versus living from fear and doubt. We all have potential and I help people stop doubting themselves so they can acknowledge and utilize this potential. We have all had moments of doubt and pain that impacts us both in ways we know and do not know. With awareness and effort, we can live from our place within us that is empowered and strong versus the place within us that has been hurt. Life is so much of how we respond and react to it. Why did you want to be a life and mindset coach? It really feels that it is my true calling in life and one I could not escape regardless of how hard I tried, and I certainly did try. But most profoundly, I have experienced my own enormous changes through the power of a changed mindset and healing arts modalities. I used to have a different mindset than I have today and my outlook was much more fearful and closed. I used to look at life very differently and my life echoed that back to me. The healing arts world turned on all the lights for me, instantly. Very simple but profound tools such as meditation changed my life for the better. I felt a deep reaction in my gut and heart that I was meant to share this with the world. It has been the most valuable and positive change in my life. It feels like a true honor to give this to others after seeing what difference it has made in my life. Who inspires you the most? I’m very inspired by people willing to do what is just in the world even when it means being the outlier. People willing to be disruptive in favor of more conscious and mindful thoughts and habits. This is change, and it doesn’t happen without it. There are many outstanding thought leaders in history and presently. They created an impact and led the change. What can be often easy to overlook is that most of these leaders were quite disruptive and that doesn’t always mean smooth waves, whether we’re talking about the history of Siddhārtha Gautama (Buddha), Jesus, Ghandi, Martin Luther King, Jr., Audre Lorde, Ruth Bader Ginsburg…I could go on and on. These people did not foster awareness by being silent because it’s the polite thing to do. They were willing to be outliers and rebels—to not follow the crowd and stand for new norms—for the betterment of humanity. Change requires change and change requires discomfort. Whether it is the minority female receptionist demanding a harassment-free workplace to a white male-dominated head-in-the-sand employer or the female celebrity calling out decades of secrets and injustice with prominent media figures, I am inspired by the ones being bold in service of a better world. It takes a lot of courage. What does success mean to you? I’ve learned success and the notion of it changes and varies depending on the country and culture and decade. Success to me is knowing the goal of life is not to strive for perfection. It is also not to strive for a life without challenges or struggle, but to find joy and peace in life despite these things. Success to me is knowing I am using my talents to help the betterment of humanity. There are lots of ways to make lots of money and get a string of words/titles/letters next to your name. Or flashy things like cars or gadgets. Sometimes I wonder what that all really means and if it brings some sort of real inner happiness even though people keep climbing and buying and chasing more and more. It all feels very external, and I think real, authentic success is more of a feeling of achievement, contribution, and contentment from within. What advice would you give to others, especially young people who are navigating everything that has been happening in our world today? Especially those who are struggling to find a job or have just lost their job etc. The world is constantly changing and so we must be willing to change too. People like to say, “the world needs to change,” then do everything the same. Or just complain. I think it is more beneficial to take responsibility and do our part first. We cannot change anyone. We can change ourselves. This part can get really tricky and sticky. Accountability is often super uncomfortable. It makes us realize stuff. About ourselves. We realize we aren’t perfect. We realize we have faults and make mistakes. We realize we are sometimes not the kindest. Whaaaat??? And that can feel really crappy. It’s easier to blame others! It’s easier to point fingers at everyone else! And sometimes we would rather remain in this bubble. I get it. But I think the only way out is through so we all must do our part. A flexible mind is a more resilient one than a rigid mind. This year has shown us the unexpected twists and turns in life can be extreme. Problems didn’t start this year, and they won’t stop next year. Solutions didn’t start this year, and they won’t stop next year. Life doesn’t go as planned. Our attachment to our plans is what usually causes us suffering. There are more ways to contribute, to share your talents, to help humanity than ever. If you’re experiencing hardship…loss of a job, looking for work, illness, etc. acknowledge and honor that and how it can be distressing, but also look for the opportunities it may hold. These are often hidden. Amazing things are often birthed from our biggest hardships when we have the open mindset for it. Struggles are certainly not always easy but they can grow great strength. To me, that is invaluable success. If you want to get in touch with Kate or learn more about her, you can check out her website or find her on Instagram.

Can you tell me a bit about your origin story for starters? I was born in Cheorwon near the DMZ. I’m the youngest of three brothers. My oldest brother was also adopted to the Netherlands to a different family. My middle brother stayed with my family in Korea. Then, there was little me raised in a protective white bubble (in the Netherlands)—at least until I was about 16 or so when I “stopped being cute” to the outside world. I grew up in a loving home, but whenever I stepped outside, it was basically always like going to war. I had a couple of friends, but where I grew up in the Netherlands was a small village. I was the only Korean kid. There was a Chinese family running a Chinese restaurant; but that was it. Did you know that your older brother was adopted as well to the Netherlands, or did you find out from a biological search? Well, I always had the information in front of me. My Dutch parents were really cool about it in the beginning. They always said, “If you want to search for your birth family we will help you.” They were very straightforward about that, which was good. But, my oldest brother sought me out and found me right before I went to Canada. He came to our house and it was uncanny how similar we looked. We hit it off immediately. That was when I was like, “This is real.” My parents immediately became very afraid. They were worried: “Now, he’s gonna leave us and he’s gonna go out and search for his Korean identity and just turn his back on us.” So, yeah, that led to that to some tension. It’s the famous guilt trip all adoptees go through. It was a very difficult time. It took until 2010, when my wife and I were reunited with my birth family. We were welcomed with open arms in the village. It turns out that [my] abeoji (father) and umuni (mother) were still together and living in the same house where we were all born. That was like “Wow!” Also, when I walked into the house and into my middle brother’s room, the first thing I noticed was a guitar and a keyboard. So, it turns out I come from a very musical family. That was so deep, and that made the bond I have with music even stronger. We went back again in 2017 to celebrate our son’s birth as we knew it was such a big deal in Korea. Not long after that, [my] umuni sadly passed away. We were glad that at least she got to meet him. I still every now and then call [my] abeoji and have regular contact with my brothers. Within a year or so, we are actually making plans to make our way to Korea ourselves. You mentioned that growing up was like war—can you talk a bit more about that? How did that affect your sense of identity? Well, I think growing up in a bubble with my parents saying, “You’re adopted from Korea, but you’re one of us now,” was confusing and against how people went out their way to show me I’m not welcome, you know? My parents even went as far as to say, “Racism doesn’t exist, because you are one of us.” At some point, I stopped talking to them about it because it was just no use. With a lot of these struggles, there was literally nobody I could turn to. Instead, I internalized it all. Then, of course, when you do that and something happens, you explode. That’s why I got in a lot of fights, but in the end I just wanted to be left alone. That happened all the way through high school. Basically, in elementary school, it was just incidents, but they became really more structural in high school. Yeah, that was a really bad time. In the end, I started to pick up the pen, and then became an emcee and started showcasing my skills at local talent shows. It was when I debuted at a really big festival about 20 minutes from Amsterdam, [where] from that moment on, that’s when people finally started seeing me more as an artist and respecting me more as a person. They began to care a little less about what I looked like. How would you say, then, that your sense of identity changed? When I was 12, I discovered hip-hop music. That’s where my views began to change because I’ve always been into languages. Music and languages are basically the constants in my life. When I heard hip-hop, I actually understood what they were rapping about. Although I might not have been able to relate to the abject poverty of some of those artists, I could definitely relate to the struggle, the pain, and also the glimmers of hope that are also a part of hip-hop. This helped me greatly further [on] in life when I was not able to turn to my parents with my struggles. I turned to hip-hop because I felt like I wasn’t alone. There were people going through struggles and I realized things can always be worse. A big part of my self-identification became based on the values of hip-hop culture. Now, I think of myself as a hip-hop scholar and student because I just absorbed all the knowledge with the music. But, as for the whole Asian aspect, I think when my brothers came into my life, that’s when I took some time out to really re-evaluate what it means to me to be Asian. In 2008, I discovered some Korean R&B. That was when Jay Park was still coming up and others like him. Now, it has become more cool—more accepted—to be Asian. How does this play into your music and artistry? In 2002, I decided to join a couple of bands, and all of a sudden people started noticing me and saying, “Oh, this guy actually does know what he’s doing.” From 2002 to 2007, I was one of the few higher profile Asian artists in Europe. It took artists like Jin of Ruff Ryders, and artists like myself and DJ Rockid to do the groundbreaking as pioneers, you know. That’s something that helps bring more confidence as an Asian artist, and makes me feel more Asian. In terms of your work, what are you working on now? Back in 2017, I became visually impaired. So, I decided the only way forward was to go back to school. I chose to study ethnomusicology, which is an ugly word for non-Western musicology, or anything other than classical Western music. My speciality is, of course, Korean music. I have to finish my dissertation and a couple of papers, then by next year I’ll graduate and have my second M.A. The other thing is I’ve just released my latest track, “Yellow Peril.” I’m still trying to gain more momentum with that. I really want it to be more of an anthem, and [so I] tied into all the movements that have now sprung up. Some people have started to use it, which is great. Hopefully, it will become more internationally known, because I think it’s one of those songs that kind of resonates. I also have an older song in my catalog that kind of ties into that which I’m going to release within the next few months or so called “No More Yellowface.” People are still very ignorant. So, I have a couple lines about the pretenses with which the U.S. lured Chinese workers to the U.S. to work on the railways, and then came up with the Chinese Exclusion Act. That’s the next song on my agenda. And, I’m working on a song right now sung by a very talented Vietnamese singer. I’ve made the music, and I’m doing the mixing and mastering right now. That’s gonna be released in the course of the coming weeks. I’m trying to stay creative and find ways to stay out there, to stay visible; and hopefully, you know, to attract more and more artists to work with me and collaborate. What would your takeaway be for younger, aspiring universal Asians, or how would you encourage our universal Asian population to pursue their art or to do whatever it is they want to do in life? I think right now is as good a time as any. The wind is now in our sails because of the Korean wave. I think the balance has shifted towards the East. It’s been going on for awhile now, but it looks like it’s picked up momentum in a really, really big way. And, it’s not going to slow down. There’s still so much to do to inspire the next generation. I think right now the most important thing to do is to educate people—to educate ourselves. I think in order to succeed, you gotta see yourself not as an island, but as a part of a whole. Right now is the time to stand together. Basically, what I’m trying to say is to just be you, just stay true to you, to just believe; because people will not believe in you if you don’t believe in yourself. That’s what I am trying to do. I’m just trying to inspire as many people as I can to follow their dreams, whatever their dreams may be, because I’m still trying to fulfill many of my own dreams. But, by doing so and by documenting this journey, I hope that it gives people hope, and that it helps to inspire the next generation. Check out DJ Seoul Train’s latest work: E-1 Ten’s “CCTV,” also featuring well-known Dutch MC Brainpower, just released by indie label Wallboomers Music.

The Universal Asian got to know Paul Kim, a talented comedian who is also a writer, producer, and founder and director of several non-profits. Tell us about yourself. My name’s Paul Kim. My friends call me PK because I’m a preacher’s kid. My dad had a big church—like 3,000 people. I’m the last of five. I have two older brothers and two older sisters; they’re all two years apart. I’m the fifth; I’m an accident—pretty obvious—because I’m 10 years apart. My parents are really conservative, religious, and strict. I grew up in Burbank, California, and at that time it was almost all white. I was one of the few Asian kids, and that really shaped me because all the kids would make fun of me. How did you get into comedy? Growing up, I would always watch stand-up comedy. It was something I always wanted to do, but my parents were super strict so when there was this Eddie Murphy "Delirious" tape that kids were passing around, I remember I had it for a night and it changed my life. I just remember listening to it—it was really vulgar—but I just remember being like: “Oh my God, I want to do that.” So I’ve been pursuing that for the past 15 years. I’m nowhere where I want to be, but it’s been an amazing journey. How would you describe your sense of humor? I would say like Conan O’Brien’s—self-deprecating, sometimes sarcastic, satire, and observational. There’s a lot of New York-style comedy where you call a person out in the audience and it can be kind of mean—I’m definitely not that type. Some people are really good at roasting people, but yeah that’s not my type. I don’t know, I think part of my family, the culture—because I’m a preacher’s kid—you’re just never supposed to do that; you know, put other people down. What is your favorite part about being a comedian? When you get a genuine laugh. Like not when your friends laugh in the audience, but a stranger you’ve never met. You can just tell they’re really, genuinely cracking up. Sometimes they snort, you know, and that’s when you know it’s genuine. Then you know that you’ve connected, and you’ve helped them forget about their problems for a minute. I think that’s very rewarding. They say that the shortest distance between two people is laughter, and I believe that, because I’ve experienced it with strangers. Least favorite? It’s the bombing. Everyone’s gonna bomb, you know? It feels like you asked an entire group of people to dance with you, and they said no. I’ve experienced, in my single days, asking a girl out and being rejected, or asking a girl for her number—and that’s what it feels like when you do a joke and it doesn’t work. You’re like: “Wow, I really thought that was funny when I was writing that in my room,” and the truth hits you in the face. Silence is louder than words. I’ve talked with a lot of other comedians too, where you have nights where they’re amazing and nights where they’re bad. You drive home in complete silence—no music—just staring at the road and thinking about your set. You know you have a good set when your friends are like, “Hey, that was really funny,” but you know you have a bad set when people come up to you and are like: “Hey…that takes a lot of balls, man…that was really brave, you really took chances.” How do you deal with tough crowds? You definitely have to have your energy up, like way more than they are. Some people are going through personal issues; you have no idea. Even a crowd of just a few hundred people, there are hundreds of different family issues going on. You know what I’m saying? There are so many issues that people are worried, stressed out about, so to snap them out of it, the first joke is really important. The first impression is really important. You just cannot come out douchey. If your first joke comes off as: “Oh this guy’s just trying to get famous,” then you just see arms folded everywhere. Do you think comedy should be political? Why or why not? I think if the person is well-versed, well-read, then yeah of course. Personally, I’m liberal. I love The Daily Show; I’m friends with Ronny Chieng; opened for Trevor Noah—that whole crew. I love that style of comedy. I also love Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, but I also know some comedians that aren’t good at it, so maybe they shouldn’t. So for me, I don’t like doing political comedy because I just get too emotionally invested in it. Next thing you know, it’s not funny; you’re just arguing. I have a few political jokes, but I just don’t like getting into it too much. It gets me too riled up. I have noticed that the majority of comedians who do political comedy are on the liberal side. There’s something to that—I remember arguing with my friend who’s conservative, and I was like: “Well, why are most of the funny comedians liberal; is it because they speak the truth?” Of course, he got pissed. I can’t really explain that perfectly, but I definitely think there’s something to that—that most comedians are liberal. What advice do you have for aspiring comedians? I would say if you’re right out of school and you know this is what you want to do, I wouldn’t waste any time. I would just dive right into it, 100%. Do whatever you can to figure out what you need to budget your life, like the bare minimum of what you need to live off of. Then go to a mic every night. That’s the best way to do it. It’s not the only way to do it, but it’s the best way if you ask me. You have to have that singular focus, like Dave Chappelle. The older you get, the harder it is. You’re fighting with younger people for spots. So if you know, and you’re young, literally take an Excel spreadsheet and budget how much money you need to live off of, and go for it. It’s only going to get harder in your 30s and 40s. You founded a non-profit and talent show called Kollaboration. How did that start? I started it when I was 23. I was emceeing these really cheesy Asian shows, and I was like, there’s really no Asian-American talent show—and this was before YouTube. There was no platform, no community show. So, I started one in L.A., in K-town, which is why it’s Kollaboration with a K. For the first year, only 200 people came. Then, the next year 400 people came, then 800, and then 1,200. We put it online and people started forwarding it as email attachments, and I started getting emails from Asians all over the country—14 cities with people wanting to start it in their city. So I flew around everywhere, helped establish it with our staff, and we had an amazing time. We did over a hundred shows across the country. It’s probably the proudest achievement for me, other than being a dad, of course. You also co-founded Liberty in North Korea (LiNK). What is it about and what inspired you to start it? In 2004, my friend Adrian Hong, who was at Yale, was always blogging about what’s going on in North Korea. I just remember it was like, why don’t we start a non-profit that raises awareness for this instead of just blogging about this? Because I didn’t even know all these stats he was putting out there. There are a lot of people starving in North Korea; there are people who get captured trying to escape, and are tortured, sometimes executed. It’s bad. The thing is, it’s the government that’s bad, not the 24 million people that are there. They’re just people, citizens, just trying to live. So, we started the non-profit, and in a year—because the college students were amazing—there were 70 chapters across the country. Then Hannah took over—she’s the new director. She really legitimized it, took it to another level. The website, the staff, volunteers, all of the world, to be honest. She, along with the staff, have helped rescue over 1,200 North Korean refugees. PK Comedy website Kollaboration Liberty in North Korea (LiNK)

The Universal Asian got to know the founders of the "AAPI Narrative Podcast": Nhi, Rachelle, and Zi. Visit their website, and listen to episodes on Spotify, Apple Podcast, or other platforms. Tell us about yourselves. Where are you from, how did you all meet? Rachelle (R): Hi, my name’s Rachelle Quintela. I’m a first generation Filipino-American. I was born and raised in San Francisco along with Nhi and Zi. I moved down to Southern California for school and work, and now I’ve transitioned back up to the Bay Area to work in property management and this podcast. Nhi (N): Hi everyone, I’m Nhi. I’m a first generation Vietnamese-American. I was also born and raised in San Francisco, but now I’m in Irvine, California. I am in higher education, specifically Student Affairs right now. Zi (Z): Hello everyone, I’m Zi. I’m Chinese-American, and I was raised in San Francisco. I moved down to Irvine for college, and how I met Rachelle and Nhi—well, Nhi and I went to the same middle school, and Nhi introduced me to Rachelle when we went to college so we could all be roommates together. What inspired you to start the podcast? R: With the rise of all these podcasts that are coming up, we have been listening to a lot of different ones individually—and like Zi said, we’ve known each other for a really long time—and once I moved back up to the Bay area we still wanted to keep those conversations and our bonds super strong. Ultimately, we wanted to share our own experiences as Asian-American women and amplify our unique narratives, as well as other unique narratives within the Asian-American and Asian community. Because, you know, there are a lot of stories around the world that aren’t being told, and we want to highlight those. N: To add on to what Rachelle said, there’s not a lot of representation on mainstream TV, but we do start to see more of that through online platforms, like YouTube. Being able to create this space and add onto that is really important. Everyone’s experience is so different. There are different intersectional identities that encompass how we navigate the world, and even between the three of us, it will be different how we perceive things or respond to specific things. We also don’t encompass every Asian experience. With that, we hope to continue sharing different stories and learn with the community as well. How do you choose your guest speakers? Z: During the past three seasons, we either reached out to community members or those who were interested would submit an interest form. We will review the submissions between the three of us, and if we have the ability to contact the person or organization, we would do so. Moving into the later stage of our podcast, we will be revamping our outreach. We’re still working on that process, so be on the lookout for updates in Season 4! It’s going to be something different. What goes into the making of a podcast episode? R: There are so many steps. I didn’t even realize all the nitty-gritty details that went into making a podcast when we first started. Generally, we would create an outline of topics or questions we’d want to ask ourselves or the guest speaker, if we have one coming on. If there is a guest speaker, we would do research to ensure that the conversation and the episode is tailored to their specific highlights, or their story. After we record our episode, we spend roughly 10 to 15 hours editing each recording. We do those in-house at the moment. With each review of the episode, we want to make sure the audio is nice and crisp, and that the details are in order. Then, we take a step back and listen to the overall content to make sure that it flows really well and is an easy follow for the listener. I just shortened all our blood, sweat, and tears into two minutes; but yeah that’s pretty much how it goes. How do you build your audience? Z: There are multiple ways, but first we connect and share episodes with relevant pages. For example, we post new episodes on the Asian Podcast Network page every week—shout out to Jerry Won. We engage with the community and connect the topic or episode back to the listeners. We also cross-collaborate and connect with those who have similar visions, whether it’s sharing their own experiences as Asian-Americans, or creating a space for others to share their experiences. And, the last thing is word of mouth. We connect with those in our personal circles. We get support from our friends and our family, so that’s really nice. What advice do you have for aspiring podcasters? N: I would say have a central theme or focus. Check out other podcasts that cover similar topics, and really just take a leap of faith. Sometimes, we get so fixated on little details that we don’t even take the first step. So, it’s okay to learn as you go. Z: Be yourself. I feel like listeners can tell when you’re not being your most authentic self. And have fun with it, that’s the most important part. R: Totally agree. Another thing I would add is don’t worry too much about what other people think. At the end of the day, it’s your podcast. Everything that you create should matter to you; otherwise, you won’t have the drive to see it to the finish line. How does the AAPI Narrative Podcast combat the model minority stereotype? N: I think I have this conversation a lot with my students, and sometimes it’s a really new concept for people. For those who don’t know the model minority myth, it’s a false belief that all Asian and Asian-American experiences are homogenous. That can be pretty detrimental to the community. It strips away diverse identities, cultures, languages, and histories that shape a person’s unique perspective and experience. Like I said earlier, the three of us navigate the world differently; even if we are under the same umbrella, it doesn’t mean we are the same. Our podcast focuses on sharing those different experiences, narratives, and stories that don’t always fit into this expectation of what it means to identify as Asian or Asian-American, so that’s how we combat the model minority myth. What are your thoughts on the rise of hate against Asians and Asian-Americans in the pandemic era? How can we fight against it, and how can we, as a society, heal? N: For me personally, it’s been pretty difficult. It’s been difficult in the workspace, it’s been difficult at home just looking at the news, and as you know, a lot of it has been happening in the Bay Area. Knowing that your loved ones are there, that it impacts them…it’s hard. I think it’s particularly hard for me because I’ve directly been told that someone has been impacted, either someone I know or a family friend. That really is difficult, when it hits home. I think it’s hard when people deny it, and deny that it’s happening, or that it’s not something that should be made into a problem. This isn’t new. The U.S. has a very long history of discrimination against communities under the Asian umbrella. With the rise of it right now, I think it’s important to have those conversations. I also struggle a lot with the expectation for me to talk about it. It puts the burden on the people who are impacted, and I know that it’s important to talk about it, but everyone responds in different ways and has their own way of showing up for their community. Z: When I first heard about this it was through social media. I was actually very angry and confused, because a lot of the victims we saw looked very similar to my parents, my uncles, my aunts. They’re taunted, they’re murdered, they’re shoved, their faces are slashed, they’re set on fire, and they’re beaten. It’s just very saddening to see that. How do you fight against that? I would say the first place to start is education. Teach them everything. For instance, in World War II, there was a combat team that was almost entirely Asian. However, in American history, we were never mentioned or honored. Our stories should be included, because we matter. Secondly, I think politicians should keep fighting to pass bills that protect the AAPI community. Not everyone in this world will stand up for us, but I encourage everyone who believes that humanity still matters to stand with us and speak on our behalf. Hate crimes targeting our community need to stop. They need to stop now, for the generations that come after us. R: I totally resonate with everything that’s been said. I’m in a similar boat where it’s just…this past year has been really tough. Not only with your health, but with the rise of hate, and all these different emotions come up for me. The most significant emotion that comes up for me is disbelief. We’ve had so many different advances, technological or otherwise, within the United States, but why is this still on the back burner? When I think about this question, “How do we fight against it?—there’s so many different avenues. I think the most significant step for me is communication, and having that space to be able to open up and have these discussions. Now is the time to shine a spotlight on certain things and bring them up, although they may be very uncomfortable to talk about.

The Universal Asian got to know Raymond Luu and Alan Duong, cousins, creators, and co-hosts of the "Reel Asian Podcast." There are two other awesome co-hosts, who unfortunately couldn’t join us for this interview: Renee Ya and Baldwin Diep. Check them out at here. Tell us about yourselves. Raymond (R): I’m Raymond Luu. I’m a Bay Area kid through and through. I currently work at San Jose State University—that’s my moneymaker at the moment. And, of course, I’m a producer and co-host for the "Reel Asian Podcast." I also do non-profit work. In terms of my upbringing, I loved watching movies, and I always felt a strong connection with the characters on screen. I enjoy backpacking—Alan and I mountaineer, I’m sure he’ll tell you more about that. We’re an outdoorsy kind of team. Alan (A): So, similar to Raymond, I’m a Bay Area kid, born and raised in—and I’m very proud of this—Eastside, San Jose. I graduated from San Jose State University, and served in the United States Army for about 8 years. I’m currently working at LinkedIn as a senior finance analyst, and I’m an MBA candidate at the UC Berkeley Haas School of Business. Raymond and I co-founded the Greenfoot Hiking Club, which is a Bay Area backpacking club specifically for minorities. I do a lot of rock climbing—on hiatus at the moment. I’m also a professional photographer on the side, and if you buy my prints, the proceeds go to charity. What inspired you to start Reel Asian Podcast? R: As I mentioned, I loved watching movies, and part of the reason why I started the podcast was that a lot of the male leads at the time didn’t look like me. Now, that narrative is hopefully changing. That’s why I have Alan here joining the team to help talk about it and dissect these movies. I’m sure that there are similar podcasts out there, and we don’t necessarily think we’re creating a new space, but our goal for the podcast is to expand the space. A: Raymond formulated this idea maybe two summers ago, and this was something we were really passionate about, to discuss Asian-American stories or Asian stories in general. We realized that the current sphere of media in today’s day and age doesn’t really tell the true story of what Asian-Americans possess in the world. It’s very stereotypical in a particular manner, male or female, and we wanted the opportunity to leverage our position, show that we’re more than just caricatures that people typically see in media, and at the same time, bring into the podcast our personalities. How has your identity as a member of the AAPI community shaped the way you look at the world? R: For the longest time, my image of a “hero” was basically this white, blue-eyed, dominating male figure, and on the other side of the coin, the way that Asians were portrayed in film was definitely not the most in depth. They’d be side characters or comic relief—just goofy. I think I internalized that for the longest time, and it wasn’t until I was 29 that I started becoming more involved with AAPI community relations. The vehicle that really got me there was my non-profit, Project by Project, and we had so many discussions, meetings, and workshops taking a look at the long history of Asian-Americans in our country that stems from institutionalized and systemic racism. I’m half Chinese, half Vietnamese, so there’s also the Vietnam War aspect, and the narrative I was taught was that the Americans were on the good side of the war. Now, having learned about Vietnamese history—I went to Vietnam, and they have a museum there that completely flips the narrative and talks about America’s aggression towards Vietnam. That shaped my reality and introduced a worldliness that went beyond movies, and so I became more understanding of the different Asian-American perspectives and other Asian hyphenates, and how they choose to define themselves. My definition of “Asian” is not the same as the next person’s, but are there shared values we can discuss and learn from? Certainly. And that’s kind of where I am today. It’s a growing process, honestly. A: I kind of recognized my ethnicity in my late teens. I grew up in a bubble, in the Bay area. It’s pretty diverse, in the sense that there are a lot of Asians around. I never felt out of place. Then, that all changed for me when I joined the military. I went from being in an area where I didn’t feel insecure or even cognizant of my race to all of a sudden having my name made fun of. I joined in 2007, and I was shocked—I didn’t realize that it was so prevalent, but I had to remember that my experience of being in a very diverse area isn’t everyone else’s reality. After my time in the military, I took it upon myself to learn more about my culture, and be more cognizant of who I am as a person. Growing up, I kind of hated being Vietnamese, because—and I’ll be honest about my Viet folks here—we’re loud and our language is not the sexiest thing ever. Shout out to our people here. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve fully embraced that, and I’ve recognized that if I want to be an ally to other minorities in the world and to AAPIs, I have to fully love who I am. How can film and TV combat the model minority myth? A: We need to have movies that show diverse stories. We need to have continuous Asian and Asian-American films where we’re not just the "Crazy Rich Asians" or "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." We’re normal people, and there have to be stories told about us, which is why "Always Be My Maybe" is by far one of my favorite movies that came out after "Crazy Rich Asians." It was just a story about regular people who happen to be Asian. I’m such a huge advocate for these kinds of stories, because normalizing us is one way to combat the stereotype. I want nuanced stories that allow the story itself to drive the narrative. R: I just watched "Nomadland," which is directed by Chloe Zhao, a Chinese director, and it doesn’t focus on an Asian-American story, but it just shows that the talent pool is so vast. That speaks to breaking the model minority myth too. I think one step is having Asian leads, like Henry Golding. We can have our own good-looking, charming kind of guy, but we want more than that. We also want mediocrity. We just did an episode on "Harold & Kumar," and what’s great is that the premise of the movie has two Asian-Americans who are expected to act a certain way, but all they want to do is get super high and go to White Castle. That already challenges the status quo; we need more films like that. Do you think arts/entertainment should be political? Why or why not? R: I think it’s impossible to separate the two. And, I don’t mean that it should be separate. I think they’ve always been tied together. We as audience members should be able to connect the two, and also ask what is the art trying to say about society? What do I learn from it? Does it expand my mind a little bit, or do I disagree with it? Society has always been reflected in art. There’s a very, very fine line. I believe that art should stay as art, and have the full creative freedom to express itself. Cancel culture is a very controversial thing, and I think we shouldn’t use the internet to target and destroy people’s lives without looking at the livelihood of the person. A: Those are really good thoughts. Not much to add, because I agree wholeheartedly. I will say that there are people who will say that there is no such thing as cancel culture, it’s repercussion culture. I don’t necessarily believe in that. I think the challenge is that people aren’t taking things into context. I just don’t like the idea of an artist or comedian saying something that’s a little in poor taste—unless it’s truly atrocious—and losing their job. There’s nothing wrong with challenging jokes that challenge perspective and question society, because art is supposed to reflect that. What advice do you have for aspiring podcasters? A: Be authentic and yourself. Know that whatever story you possess, it’s valuable. You just have to keep at it. Never give up who you really are. The moment you try to pretend you’re someone else or you copy someone else’s idea or personality, that’s when you fail and you’re not authentically you. I believe, to be successful in these types of endeavors, you have to be unique, and the most unique thing about you is yourself. R: That was a beautiful answer, man. For me, on the production side, you have to do the research and do as much preparation as you can. Step one: Do it. I feel like a lot of people get cold feet, and a lot of people get caught up in all the different things you have to do to put out a podcast. It can seem very daunting, but if you take it one task at a time, you’ll be able to publish that episode. From a tactical side of things, record three episodes. Figure out what you want to do in your show. Figure out that two-sentence purpose. In that process of recording and editing, you’ll know by then if you really want to continue. And from an editing side of things, take the time to edit intentionally.

The Universal Asian got to know Song Kim, a holistic life and relationship coach. Visit her website to learn more about Song’s wellness advocacy. Tell us a bit about your background. Where to start? I am Korean-American, and I’ve been living in the United States since I was three years old. I immigrated here from Seoul, was raised in the South pretty much all my life, in Texas and Georgia. Growing up, I had a pretty normal experience, seemingly. I was dealing with a lot of trauma due to cultural clashes and other trauma-related things. I kind of lived through life like that, and as I became an adult I struggled a lot with mental health, addiction, and all the other things that come with that. In my young adulthood I struggled a lot with finding myself and my sanity, if you will. I worked as an HR professional and tried to do my best to make it in the world and do what was right for me, but in reality, I was not happy. And so, it wasn’t until very recently that I was able to pursue a career path that truly makes me happy. What drew you to relationship coaching? Well, I struggled a lot with my relationships in my adulthood, and I always thought that I was the problem. Every single relationship I was a part of either ended badly or was unsatisfying, and I really wanted to have a great relationship. After my last relationship, I was over it. I really thought I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. It was a horrible breakup, and it brought to the surface a lot of trauma responses that I wasn’t expecting. I had been in therapy for years and doing the inner work for years, and yet I was just not having fulfillment in my relationships. And so, I just spent some time after that breakup getting myself together and starting to actively try to figure out what it was. I started doing the work—and that’s something that I teach others with my coaching—and I just started to learn more about our subconscious relationship to relationships, and not just relationships, but everything—like how our childhood beliefs and our core beliefs affect our reality. I learned about all these things, and it worked for me. It really helped me break through some of my greatest challenges in relationships. And I thought, well, whatever I’m doing works, and I’m very unhappy in my job, so let me just do what I love and help other women, because I feel like everybody deserves to have a fulfilling, nourishing relationship. Relationships are quite powerful, you know? In your opinion, what is the most important thing people should do to maintain a healthy relationship? Consistently practice a conscious relationship with yourself, where you are aware of your own needs and you’re aware what parts of you need attention from you. Basically, practice great self-care and great self-love, independent from the relationship. It’s very important to maintain a sense of autonomy and a strong sense of self. Be aware of and meet your own needs, and clearly communicate them in a safe manner to your partner. What are the most rewarding parts about being a coach? Oh my gosh, everything. I learn. I become better, and I learn from my clients. Every time they share with me their stories and their challenges, I’m forced to look at and address the same things within myself. They teach me all the time. And, of course, when I see them get with the person they’ve been wanting to get back with or when they meet somebody that finally shows up for them in a way that they deserve, that just makes me so happy. What does a self-care day look like for you? I’m a single mother and I have two kids, so I ask for help so that somebody can watch the kids. I also communicate to my partner that I need some time to myself. Because, for me, I feel at my best when I’m able to get really quiet. After I’ve made sure everyone is taken care of, I love to just do my hobbies. For me, that means cooking, or taking pictures of random things or people, but usually it’s cooking. First, I’ll identify a recipe that’s ridiculous. Like, ridiculously complicated and very complex, one that no one would ever want to do; and I will want to do it. “Oh, it has 47 steps and takes 4 hours? Okay, I’ll do that.” I’ll go to the market and I’ll get some really good ingredients and start whipping up dishes at home, pretending that I’m some cool main character in a movie. Oh, and taking a bath—a great bath, really long. Meditating, doing yoga, spending time with my dog, and finally, sitting in my bed in my pjs eating whatever I want and reading manga or watching anime. That’s my jam. How can people weed out and keep out toxicity in their lives? It goes back to self. You really have to have a strong sense of self. What that means is, you need to know what your boundaries are. You really have to have a strong sense of what is okay and what is not okay for you, and clearly communicate that as soon as possible to the people who are in your life. Boundaries are everything. It takes consistent practice; like with family members. Let’s say you grew up in a highly enmeshed family, which is quite common in Asian households, communicating [your boundaries] is going to be hard. One thing that I had to practice with my family was my time. “Please respect my time.” “Please don’t call me between this time and this time.” So yeah, boundaries. If you know that, then you’re able to tell somebody when they do something to offend you or disrespect you. It can be as small as somebody touching you on your shoulder. How do you define happiness? Happiness is when you have stepped into the energy of the person you’ve always dreamt of becoming. That’s what happiness is to me. That’ll change, whatever you strive to be will change as you grow. There’s no stagnancy in who you are. If I dreamt of becoming more empowered, successful, loving, and free, and I finally stepped into that energy because of my efforts, I’m like, “Yeah, this feels great.” What advice would you give someone who feels like they’re trapped in their relationship? When I first hear the word “trapped” that makes me think that the person is probably in a really unhealthy space—emotionally and mentally. It’s much more complex than “just get out of it.” I would tell them to begin to ask, “What would you want to feel instead?” I ask that because I felt that way when I was in an abusive relationship, and I didn’t feel like I could leave. When you’re in that space, it’s hard for you to just up and leave. I began to daydream and think about what would make me happier, and as my desire became greater than my will to stay, I was able to finally leave and choose myself. Who are you inspired by? To be honest, I would say it’s the women in my life that I’ve been exposed to, new and old. As I stepped into this role as a relationship coach, I started developing a new community of women who inspired me. There are several people in the same line of work as me, who are also coaches, healers, and the reason why they inspire me is because they really have broken the mold of what it means to be successful. I’m surrounded by women who are truly authentic and doing what they love, and it shows. They inspire me to continue to be that as well. I can’t imagine myself doing anything other than what I’m doing right now. I’m very lucky to have these other women in my life—women of color. Being a woman is oppressive by itself, but being a woman of color comes with a very unique set of challenges. And yet, these women vibe and do whatever they want, and I’m just like, yeah that’s super inspiring, you know? Knowing that we’re building that community and being part of that community is awesome, because there are so many women of color out there who have so much talent and skill and they’re going at it alone, and that can be very isolating. So yeah, my community of women inspires me. What advice do you have for others thinking about becoming a relationship coach? First and foremost, you need to have a pretty strong relationship with yourself. I say strong, and not good. You don’t need to have the best. When I say strong, I mean: “Are you someone who is practicing good self-care and self-awareness, committing to yourself every day?” In my opinion, that’s essentially what a good relationship coach is—somebody who doesn’t necessarily know a lot of knowledge, like skills or techniques, but is practicing a great relationship with themselves. That’s the core of what it means to have a great relationship with somebody else. If you’ve got that, then you’re good to go. Also, another piece of advice is it’s very important to practice presence and full acceptance with your clients. You will come across people who will want very different things from you, who have different preferences in the type of partner that they want. It can be challenging to see a person pursue an ex you don’t think is good for them, but all you can do is practice that presence and allow them to find the best healing option for them moment to moment. You can only just be a sounding board for them. Cover photo credit: Joshua A. Davies

The Universal Asian got to know Jessica Lin, a holistic healer, life coach, and creator of Jess Beyond the Body. Visit her site here. *TW: mentions of suicidal ideation Tell us a bit about your background. Sure. My name is Jessica; my pronouns are she/her. My background is 15 years in holistic health, including yoga, a little bit of Ayurveda, and TCM, which is traditional Chinese medicine. I have a B.A. in art from Scripps College, and that’s a little bit about me! How did you get into wellness and yoga? My story is similar to some other folks; I dealt with a lot of chronic pain and mental health issues. I remember from around age 3, just being filled with a lot of anger, and it was very hard for me to manage it. I could tell from a young age that it was not normal, in the sense that it was beyond what was healthy. It was really affecting my quality of life, and it was affecting my interactions with friends and people at school. In elementary school I went online and typed in how to deal with this kind of feeling or these kinds of issues, and I found therapy and yoga as recommendations. My parents didn’t really believe in therapy at the time—as immigrants and as people of color, a lot of times there’s some stigma around mental health and wellness—but they did let me start yoga. I want to acknowledge, as I do in all of my workshops, that I did have the privilege of my parents speaking English so I could communicate with them, and I did have the financial resources to go to yoga and later on therapy. So, I continued my yoga, and it really kept me afloat, because I was very lonely and dealing with depression and suicidal ideation. The suicidal ideation started really early on in elementary school and my parents didn’t believe me, so the yoga studio was a really good space for me to stay out of trouble. What is the most important thing people should pay attention to when taking care of their bodies? I think that what’s important is finding out what works for the individual. That’s something I say over and over again—find what works for you. Everyone is so different. The example I usually give is my partner, who does martial arts. There’s a spiritual component to that, and yeah, he comes to my yoga classes and he’s done it before, but that might not be the avenue for him. I know folks who prefer other modalities, such as writing, and so I think it’s about experimenting and seeing what feels good, because what works for me may not work for someone else. Also, in terms of therapy, it takes a lot of shopping around, finding out if you want to do EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) vs CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) etc. etc. There are a lot of options, and there’s only 24 hours in a day, so we have to pick and choose. What are the benefits of practicing yoga? How has it changed you as a person? I think it benefits people by helping them live more thoughtfully. It helps me live consciously; thinking about what I actually want in life and whether I’m doing things because I enjoy them and not because I’m supposed to. The way I practice is about self-awareness—similar to my martial arts practice, which I just started. The thing is, it really helps folks live their lives with more intention. Otherwise, we’re just on autopilot. For me, yoga has really helped me cope with my emotions, because, as you know, I dealt with debilitating depression. Now, I feel really excited to wake up and be alive. And yeah, sometimes I’m grumpy and mad, and it’s not that yoga has made me a saint, but when I feel anger or frustration or even jealousy, I understand how to cope with those and slow down to deal with them. I can acknowledge what I’m feeling versus just stuffing it down. I’m a really happy person nowadays; my inner joyfulness has come up to the surface. What was the most rewarding experience for you as a coach? That’s a hard question to answer. I don’t like to do comparisons like “most” or “favorite,” because I think there’s beauty in every experience and situation. That’s actually, I think, the answer to the question: variety. I get to work with such a range of people. I’ve worked with people who are as young as kindergartners, working on their confidence and self-esteem. I’ve worked with people who are in their 60s, helping them with cancer recovery. I get to meet such amazing folks and learn from them, and develop lifelong friendships. These connections are genuine, and I don’t feel that lonely nowadays. Walk me through a typical day for you. It looks different every day. The way I live and the way I encourage others to live is to not compare yesterday to today. As someone who lives with chronic illness, I have to take it one step at a time. I have clients in the afternoon, so I have the morning to myself. I wake up, and my partner and I will chat with each other a bit, and it’s playful—we make a lot of jokes. So, my day starts out with a lot of laughter. Lately, I’ve been taking myself to local parks. I go on Yelp and find parks I haven’t been to before and start exploring. Last week, I went out and counted 31 turtles at this little pond. I often talk to my friends on the phone or video chat, or I’ll do a little bit of coloring or journaling, and yeah, you can see it varies. Around 3:00 or 4:00, I have private clients, and those are usually 1-2 hours in length. I try not to work more than 2-4 hours per day. I usually wrap up my day with more cuddles, and I do this thing called the positives game. We go through and talk about things that went really well during our day. It can be as simple as my partner driving to and from work safely or buying yummy blueberries. The new year ushered a hope for and emphasis on healing. What are your top tips for soothing anxiety and battling depression? Going back to the basics is really important. What I mean by that is: sleep, eating, and drinking water. A lot of times people want a miracle pill and spend tens of thousands of dollars on workshops and treatments, and the thing is, none of that is going to work if you’re sleep deprived. If people ask me what my secret is, I say I sleep 8-10 hours. That’s how I’m going to be functioning and getting through my day. I feel like most people I talk to don’t sleep enough, don’t eat enough, don’t drink enough, and that’s not to put blame on people—there’s so much pressure and expectation to be productive all the time. I used to proudly call myself a productivity nut, and now I think of myself as a recovering workaholic. What advice would you give someone who feels they are too busy/unable to meditate? There’s this proverb that says something along the lines of: “If you’re not busy, meditate for thirty minutes, and if you are busy, meditate for one hour.” I think that’s the best proverb ever. It makes so much sense. A lot of times people are busy or make themselves busy to avoid their feelings. If people are too busy, I think that’s the time to step back and think, well, what am I filling my time with, and does it make me feel fulfilled and happy? I don’t think that being too busy is a real problem; it’s more of an excuse. It’s a signal that maybe that person isn’t ready yet, but the people that are the busiest are the ones who need it the most. Start where you are, start with one minute, five minutes. You don’t have to sit in a lotus position; it doesn’t have to be so formal. You can sit there and just breathe. Meditating doesn’t have to be done with your eyes closed. It can be standing at the sink, paying attention to your dishes, feeling the water washing over your hands, feeling your feet on the earth. Being there in the moment, that’s also meditation. What advice do you have for others thinking about becoming a wellness coach? I’m actually doing a workshop on that soon. I would say go slowly, and don’t expect everything to happen right away. I think it’s about tapping into the heart of it. When you have a genuine connection and you’re in it because you care, it’s going to show to other people. I see a lot of life coaches who are all caught up in making six figures or seven figures, and I think that’s a really crappy reason to get into it. A very small minority of people are going to achieve that. If you want to make a lot of money, go into business or medicine. How do you define happiness? Happiness for me is feeling awake and present and alive. It’s finding joy in the little things, like looking at the sky and enjoying seeing color. It’s something I think about a lot. I’m so happy to see color. Not all animals can. Happiness is being happy with what I have. I’m not waiting for my next client or my next house or car. I am my happiness, and I carry that everywhere. It’s in the little moments of dancing around the room. I don’t even put on music; I just dance to the rhythm of life. Happiness is lots of laughter. I’m a really silly person, but I didn’t always have a space to share that part of myself growing up. Being able to express myself, going out without a bra, just being my true self. Happiness is a life where I’m making decisions because I want to.

Emotional Intelligence fitness coach, founder of the Emotion DOJO, and host of the "Human Up" podcast, Victor Ung is on a mission to create a safe space for self-identifying Asian men to talk freely about their emotions, develop their emotional intelligence (EQ), and break the model minority myth. We talk career change, his reason for it, and some of his plans for the future. Ethnically Chinese, and the first in his family to be born in America, he knows what it is like to be caught up in the (model minority) myth, and understands the feelings of needing to pursue a route toward career stability. “I went into technology consulting as my career, and hit a point of burnout towards the end of the career,” he says. “Not really feeling fulfilled with my trajectory, or the impact that I was making and being recognized for my value” are just some of the reasons that pushed Victor to leave consulting to become a life coach, specializing in EQ. The need to create what he dubs as the Emotion DOJO also stems from the rarity of safe spaces for self-identifying Asian men to develop emotional skills, which they can take into many aspects of life, be it the workplace or intimate relationships. But what exactly is EQ? “It’s stability and the muscle to be able to identify our emotions to regulate and manage them so that they don’t consume us, then to express and communicate them assertively and vulnerably,” says Victor. He adds that it’s giving someone the ability to take action against uncomfortable or negative emotions so that, “we’re not debilitated by emotions, but can be guided by them in a way that allows us to be productive in our own way.” As part of developing EQ, Victor created the DOJO, which is an acronym for Dreams, Opportunities, Joys, and Obstacles, to help his clients develop emotional fitness. Victor says: “We have so many physical gyms to work out our physical muscles, but we rarely have the space to develop our emotional muscles, emotional fitness, or emotional resilience.” The DOJO encourages clients to recognise their dreams, appreciate their joys, and use those as parameters to overcome obstacles they might face. Victor has overcome obstacles of his own; namely the time his good friend pointed out his lack of assertiveness. “They commented that I had no spine,” he says, which made him “realise that there was the people-pleasing tendency within me in just keeping my head down and acquiescing to others especially.” Miscommunication at work led to conflicts, and a sense of not knowing how to deal with adversity, is also what led him to find his own way of developing an EQ and feeling a need to coach others like him to do the same. It seems Victor is not the only one to feel a lack of preparedness when it comes to being assertive in the workplace, as several studies suggest that Asians fall into a stereotype of being highly competent, but lacking social skills. Did the stigma of Asian men to bottle their feelings, and succumb to the model minority myth become a driving factor for Victor to become an EQ coach? “That’s almost exactly what I embarked on to this for,” he says. “Growing up, I very much absorbed [the model minority myth] and believed it, and my family believed it or even used it.” Adding that the pressure of the model minority created “judgement for myself that if I wasn’t being [a model minority]. I wasn’t being the epitome of this poster child that is supposed to do the right thing—listen to authority, keep my head down, [and] get the good grades.” Coupling the model minority myth with the societal pressures of what it means to be “a man,” particularly an Asian American, is also something Victor draws on in his other ventures, such as his "Human Up" podcast and YouTube channel. His mantra is: “Let’s retire the need to ‘man up’. How about we HUMAN up instead? Both men and women alike.” It stems from “being told to man up all the time,” he says, and where he questioned what that notion really means. He decided to flip the notion and came up with “human up” instead: “We are all human beings at the end of the day, not to erase the culture or the different experiences or perspectives that we have, but that there is this common element between all of us.” Humility, awareness, and communication have become central themes in Victor’s work and he has big dreams to take EQ coaching further. Helping many Asian American men online throughout the pandemic, Victor’s post-pandemic plan is to “[find] a physical space that I can host workshops and throw community events” in order to “[allow] others to feel safe to be themselves and grow in that social capacity.” Aside from being able to see his clients face-to-face, one of his main dreams and goals he says is “to be a connecting force in a community, as I create a safe space for men, but also for many other humans.”