Tag: Pride

My Confession

Author’s Note: Hello. This is an extremely personal piece. This is my confession to the world about my sins and the many regrets and mistakes I have within me. I hope that in some way people can resonate with this piece.

6 Minutes Read

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying those words as if I truly understand what they mean. I’m sorry are just words to comfort the regrets and mistakes that are going to occur or those that have already occurred. I don’t know what more to say. And I truly mean these words, I’m sorry. I have disappointed you. I have done things I’m not proud of. Things that have gone against my morals and the things I view as good and the right thing to do in the world.

I’m not a perfect person. It won’t change anything. I can repeat those words as much as I want but it won’t change anything. I’m not the perfect man. I don’t have a perfect heart, nor a perfect mind. But I’m working tirelessly and diligently to get to that unattainable “perfection.” Even with effort, hope, faith, and support. I will fall, crash, stumble, cry, and make mistakes because I am clumsy and I still have many things to learn.

I’m not a perfect person. But after each mistake and regret, no matter how broken and battered I am. I do better to understand and acknowledge my regrets and mistakes. So in the future, I won’t repeat those same tragedies. I don’t deserve a second chance, nor do I deserve forgiveness. All I can ask for is for you to believe in me and believe in my work ethic for me to do better. For me to hear better. For me to see better. For me to say better. For me to be better.

I’m not a perfect person. I used to believe that I can go through life without regrets and mistakes. Live life and whatever happens, happens. But that is impossible for me. I regretted many things and I also made many mistakes I wish I can take back. So instead, I lived life navigating as carefully as I could to reduce the regrets and mistakes I will eventually face. And growing up, I noticed adults, like toddlers make mistakes too. Adults at your age still made mistakes too. No one is safe from it.

I’m not a perfect person. I have regrets and mistakes too. I’ve lied to myself, friends, families, supporters, etc. Not trying to justify anything. Just simply explaining why. I’ve lied to save people’s faces, to save their feelings, to save themselves, to save myself, and more importantly, to hurt myself. Growing up, I’ve noticed I tend to push people away from me. Whether it’s physical, mental, or emotional. Some are good because I learned I understood the people I want to be with and the people I need in my life.

I’m not a perfect person. I pushed good people away from me because for a very long time and still now, I am depressed. I believed I am a person who will and is destined to end up alone. So even when good people and good things come my way. I subconsciously mark it down as something for me to push away. Because I don’t see myself worthy of receiving that goodness in my life.

I’m not a perfect person. No doctor has checked me and told me I have a condition of depression. Because I’ve never had that examined. But it’s not something I believe you need to be diagnosed with. It’s something you feel within yourself and an innate feeling. I would say ever since the beginning of my freshmen year of high school until now. I’ve been depressed.

I’m not a perfect person. “Why be depressed?” This is what I often ask myself. “Be grateful for the small things you have in life.” Still, that depression lingered around me. Because constantly, throughout my life, I’m reminded of why I’m depressed. Whenever one good thing happens to me. At least two bad things accompany it. The negatives have outweighed the positives in my life.

I’m not a perfect person. Growing up in a divorced household where the word ‘individuals’ fit better than ‘family.’ I matured quicker than my peers. I saw the world from the lens of someone who was in flight or fight mode for 12+ hours of the day. The only times it turned off were during school and activities that distracted my mind. “Is this my last meal? When will I get to eat again? Will we lose this house? When can I be happy again? When can I stop having these terrible thoughts?” These and countless other questions attack relentlessly on my mind.

I’m not a perfect person. I lied to hurt myself. By making people see something bad in me in order for them to have a valid reason to distance themselves from me. I’ve noticed this behavior of mine. And I’ve worked hard to change it. It’s happened less and less as I grew older. But still, it appears that I continue to lose people who I want to keep in my life. And I hate it so much…

Nobody in this world is perfect. No one can go through life without making regrets and mistakes. I am the same. I will not use that excuse for you to forgive me. I will continue to make mistakes and I might repeat the same mistakes I have done. Instead, I ask for you to see my work ethic and see how much effort I’ve devoted to correcting my regrets and mistakes. I’m working hard to be better. To be a better man. A better friend. A better brother. A better role model. A better mentor. A better person.

And with my time away from Chico and with the time I’m in South Korea. I will use that time to better myself. Time away from everything and the things that haunt me in this town. I know the time away from here will heal most of me. But there will still be things here that can only be healed by certain people. I will return and do better.

For those that have hurt me, I forgive you. I don’t blame you for hurting me. I would rather die. If I die by you. I will face you with a smile on my face. “It’s okay because it’s not your fault for this. You just didn’t know any better.” I’ll leave with the hope that my death might help you to someday understand and learn something to help you progress in your life.

For those that I’ve hurt, forgive me. No amount of I’m sorry will ever atone for what I did. Even without you knowing. I’m picking up each piece little by little. To amend my regrets and the mistakes I’ve done and future mistakes. I promise to learn and grow. I promise to do better.

And for those that have supported me and haven’t given up on me, I thank you. I thank you for the kind words you’ve spoken to me. I thank you for the love you’ve shown me. I thank you for the belief you’ve bestowed upon me. I will never be a perfect person but I will become a better person.

Hello, I would appreciate it if you would give me feedback on what you enjoyed and what you didn’t. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment or email me too! Thank you.

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Represent Represent

Author’s Note: This piece is half of a poem and half of it is a spoken word. It talks about the things I represent and the many identities I have. At this point, I’ve probably performed this piece about six or seven times now throughout my duration in college. I received the idea of creating this piece by seeing Terisa Siagatonu perform her spoken word piece “Raise Up” at the 2018 Asian and Pacific Islanders in the Higher Education Conference in Oakland, California. Her piece resonated so much with me and understanding my identity as an Asian-American and how powerful our voices and stories are to our communities. So, I borrowed some components from her piece and also added some twists of my own to make it personal for me. I hope you enjoy it.

5 Minutes Read

I’m not here to chastise you for what you did or what you didn’t do. My question to you is. What do you represent? You may be confused by that question. Do you represent yourself? Family? Friends? Ethnicity? Culture? Education? Religion? I’m going to move on to something else but keep thinking about it.

So last Wednesday, I turned 20. I know right, this baby face turning 20?! Crazy. After finishing my job for the day. I went home and ate. While I was eating I was talking to my grandma. Our conversation soon leads to a topic that we’ve discussed before. Well, more like I sat and listened as she lectured. My grandma asked me. “How old are you turning today?” I said “20” And then my grandma follows that up by asking me “When am I going to get married?” “When am I going to have kids.?”

Our conversation soon led to another question that was the most difficult question for me to answer. That was “When am I going to get my bachelor’s degree? Her Hmong voice was powerful and stern and yet her question was one filled with innocence.
I told her “Soon.” Which is a lie. But she understands that the lies I tell are not lies. Because she was the one who taught me that, people keep secrets for a reason. And the truth can be worse than any lie to cover it up.

I represent her hopes and dreams.

The Hmong people were involved in the Secret War in Laos. The war lasted from 1961 – 1975. In those 14 years, 30,000 Hmong soldiers died. Those soldiers always lived with a shroud on them. When they die in a nameless place for the sake of the Secret war, the place of their death becomes their grave and their uniform becomes their shroud. These soldiers’ ranged from 12 – 60 years old. The war may have ended in 1975 but the killing didn’t. That was when the genocide began. Between 1975 – 1985 100,000 Hmong died trying to flee to other countries. Another 50,000 died just from trying to cross the Mekong River to Thailand. Due to our cooperation to fight for the US in Laos. The Vietnamese government ordered all Hmong people to be killed. But you wouldn’t know this. Because it’s not in our K-12 History books. My grandma told me stories of her experience during those hellish years in Laos. One of her friends from her village volunteered to be a nurse in the war when it first began. When my grandma was able to see her friend again years after the war, her friend told my grandma about the things she witnessed. From what my grandma shared with me, I put it into these simple words, “a doctor with a scalpel sees more death than a soldier with a gun.”

I represent the Hmong soldier’s sacrifices.

With that knowledge about how difficult it was for my ancestors to come to the US. I used that as motivation to obtain a quality education. Because I know that this is a privilege! My privilege to be in this country and my privilege to pursue an education. I’m here not trying to disappoint my ancestors and my fellow Hmong brother and sisters. Who may have left those refugee camps. But their souls and spirits are still in the refugee camps in Thailand. In my freshman year in high school. There were 17 Hmong students in my projected graduating class of 2017. Four years later, on graduation night. Only 16 Hmong students graduated. From Chico High. But only 4 of us were committed to a four-year university. Two years later and I met those twelve students who didn’t go to a four-year university again. Six of them, don’t want to pursue education anymore.

I represent the Hmong youths that hasn’t been brought down by a system and society built against us.

When I attended a conference 8 months ago in April for Asian Pacific Americans in Higher Education. Also known as APAHE. In one of the workshops I attended there, the presenters asked us to participate in an activity. We were given a prompt to create lyrics and perform them for the people who were in that workshop session. The prompt was “What do you represent?” So naturally, I volunteered. And I began with…

Represent Represent!

And this is what I rep!
I represent the silent ones. I represent the ones that never won.
They expected me to fail. But nah. I ain’t like that.
I’m tough as nails, smooth like ale, and cold like hail.
They try to color my future like the Mekong.
While trying to make us forget about the napalms.
But don’t worry, it won’t take long.
Till I’m at the top. Because I’m never going to stop until I drop.
That’s because I represent myself, my legacy, and the Hmong.

So ask yourself, what do you represent?

Hello, I would appreciate it if you would give me feedback on what you enjoyed and what you didn’t. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment or email me too! Thank you.

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