anthemergem

Volume XX - 2012-2013

Asian American Student Association

anthemvolume XX 2012-2013

presented by Vanderbilt University

Asian American Student Association

Within the pages of this magazine, you will find works that express the vibrance of today’s Asian-American culture. From poetry to prosaic verse, photography, and original art, there is agenuine sense of personal expression that serves as an unparalleled reflection of the community and fellowship we share as students here at Vanderbilt.

It is precisely that sense of community and fellowship that makes us living examples of our Anthem. It stems from both the common heritage we celebrate and the diverse cultures we hail from. Indeed, it is one of the most important aspects of our emergent culture. Once we emerge as individuals, we learn to find family in each other.

The Asian Pacific American Heritage Month (AP-AHM) Committee and I are very proud to present the 2012 edition of Anthem. It is my sincere hope that you not only enjoy the pieces that follow, but also appreciate the depth behind the authors’ and artists’ motivation to showcase an irreplaceable part of themselves.

Faithfully yours,

Jonathan Guzman Anthem Editor

emerge with us.

Dear Reader,

We would like to thank you for taking the time to participate in this year’s Asian Pacific American Heritage Month by taking a look at Anthem. This is the 26th year of AASA, and every year, we strive to bring something unique to our APAHM programming. This year, our theme is “emerge,” an homage to the emergent Asian-American subculture in the United States. While we still believe that it is important to revisit our traditional heritage, as highlighted last year in our theme “know your roots,” we also want to recognize the unique cultural blending that fully gives the term “Asian-American” meaning.

We feel as though this aspect of Asian-American culture often goes overlooked, as Asian-Americans are often misidentified as simply Asians in America. For us, we see Asian America as exemplified by the imagery of a sprout breaking new ground. While the sprout still retains elements of the tree from which its seed fell, planted in new soil, it can develop into something fresh and unexpected. In this sense, this year’s Anthem, and our APAHM programming as a whole, is meant to be more open-ended, and reflective of the diversity that is constitutive of this still developing social identity.

We’ve greatly enjoyed being able to share APAHM with you and genuinely appreciate your support.

Sincerely,Nelson Hua and Angela LuoAASA Co-Community Vice Presidents

celebrate APAHM with us.

Asian American Student Association

PresidentAndrew Hanandrew.m.han@vanderbilt.edu

Community Vice-PresidentsNelson Huanelson.m.hua@vanderbilt.eduAngela Luoangela.luo@vanderbilt.edu

Anthem Editor/Community AssistantJonathan Guzmanjonathan.a.guzman@vanderbilt.edu

The views expressed in the following works are not necessarily the views of the Asian American Student Association

A letter from theChancellorDear Anthem Readers,

Welcome to the 2012-2013 edition of Anthem. I am pleased to recognize the Vanderbilt Asian American Student Association for their outstanding work in cre-ating and compiling this anthology of essays, poems, photographs, art work and short stories.

As you immerse yourself in the pages within, you’ll find this year’s theme emerge illuminated in the individual and personal expressions of culture of Anthem’s con-tributors. These thoughtful and thought-provoking im-ages and words not only allow us to view the influence of culture through each contributor’s own unique lens, they inspire us to ponder our own individual journeys of identity.

You will be moved by the deeply human spirit and soul reflected throughout Anthem. I applaud the members of the Vanderbilt Asian American Student Association, who embody the very best of Vanderbilt and the cul-tural richness of our “university family.”

Sincerely,Nicholas S. ZepposChancellor

you (2/3) - Kevin Lee

Emerge - Tina Tian

Rebels of Nam - Anthony Cai

Undecided - Julia Wong

Thailand - Raisha Pradhan

Untitled - Junyi Chu

Dragon’s Head - John Song

ChuiFen - Junyi Chu

Happy Birthday To Me - Anonymous

America, China, Chinese-American - Kevin Xie

Ride to Mombasa - Ann Ding

Fu - Junyi Chu

Untitled - Tianwen Wang

Bubble Gum Wrapper - Emily Chong

Untitled - Julia Zhu

Pikachu Peeps - Jennifer Duan

Fish Brotha - Nelson Hua

Untitled - Andy Han

Table of Contents12

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International Development Information Network(DEVNET) Pavilion - Anonymous

Sonnet XVI - Anonymous

Kirkland - Chris Honiball

The Alexandrian Solution - Kathy Zhou

Porthole - Nelson Hua

Quit Your Gaming - Anonymous

Dusseldorf UBPA Case - Anonymous

Tear It Up - Miyuki Sekimitsu

My Friend from Benedito Calixo - Rebecca Kang

The Etude - Jonathan Guzman

Untitled - Chris Honiball

Untitled - Chris Honiball

the world - far behind us - Kathy Zhou

Perception - Miyuki Sekimitsu

Peace - Mingyun Zhao

Born From Kites - Angela Luo

Untitled - Nelson Hua

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“hey”it’s nothing newnow, standard greeting, standard meeting at the dinner table

i think back - damn it’s alreadypart twogone are the days where the air around You glowsi feel perplexed by Yourpresence

now it’s just “you”

but comfortable - a warm spring shower after endless coldthe snow has melted, and theyellowed grass peers outready

to grow into green grass

at least...i hopewhen i look up at the piercing everblueskythat our green grass will come

... “hi”

you (2/3)Kevin Lee

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Emerge - Tina Tian

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Rebels of Nam - Anthony Cai

UndecidedJulia Wong

“What are you?”

I am my own identity, I don’t follow the guidelines of the stereotypes you put to me.I don’t follow any one of the stereotypes that exist, but a bit of each.I’m a mixed creation, one tailored perfectly by the One above.I’m a factor of everything around me, the good and the bad.

Look at me and you will fill in your own descriptions, like an ad-lib activity.A figure with looks unlike a porcelain accessory,More like a vase that’s fallen so many times but shows no breakage14

I drink tea, but there’s much more than just Lipton.Jasmine green, pomegranate açaí, peppermint and white peony.Light but also strong, bursts of energy but stead-fast consistency.Sitting in the coffee shop or café, I get lost in the atmosphere.I secretly sing along to the songs, reminiscing on the throwbacks.

Disney, the classics, is what I grew up with.Over time, I was exposed to what others call the depressing idea of reality.How things may seem initially, the perfected smiles and cued laughter.The unrealistic expectations, the faults, masked by hypocrisy.How real they all are, manifested in the minds within.Though there has always been hope, a tinge of authenticity to it all.

Music, reading and writing are my companions.Traveling to different realms, realms of thought and contemplation.My boldness comes through those mediums and through faith.I can be a glass full of doubt, but I know my cor-nerstone, My foundation, and I strive to be humbled.Continuously, throughout my life, I will discover more,Of what I am and my passions and my purpose.

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ThailandRaisha Pradhan

The sweltering heatNo clouds in the bright, blue sky

A gust of wind blows

FallRaisha Pradhan

Red, Yellow, OrangeA bed of vibrant colors

On wet, muddy soil

Hope of WinterRaisha Pradhan

A flurry of whiteTiny snowflakes on the ground

Vanishes away

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Untitled - Junyi Chu

Dragon’s Head - John Song

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ChiuFen - Junyi Chu

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Happy Birthday To MeAnonymous

For those who wanna know,Or those who wish to care,‘Bout those I want to share,

Or those I dare to show.

What you see ain’t what it is;What is joy ain’t really bliss.

Although it seems that I’m all right,But really it ain’t clear and bright.

It’s like I’m in a maze,In that I feel so lost.It’s like I am ablaze,

And that I’m being tossed.

But why should you care about me,When there’s a world out there to see,

When there’s time to fall in love,And there’s problems to be shoved?

So a smile I wear, I wear everyday,For others not to keep me at bay.

But ‘cause of this a price I pay,But I know there is no other way.

Thus in the end, alone;No friends, No God, No phone

to use, to lean on onethat is as bright as Sun.

So for those who wish to care,‘Bout those that I just shared,

I just wanna be free;I just wanna be me.

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AmericaKevin Xie

The land of the freeMeeting of diverse culture

- Local melting pot

ChinaKevin Xie

Hard work, sacrificeIn order to bring honor - our ancestor’s dream

Chinese – AmericanKevin Xie

Our identitiesAll yearning for an answer

To connect the gap

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Ride to Mombasa - Ann Ding

Fu - Junyi Chu21

Untitled - Tianwei Wang

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Bubble Gum WrapperEmily Chong

There’s a little bubble gum wrapperresting on the ground

The wind blows byand it lifts without a sound

That lonely bubble gum wrapperfloating in the breeze

Who would be so selfishto let that piece of paper fly free?

It drifts past stores selling lemon drops,peppermint sticks, and lollipops,

twirling around puffs of airAlmost as though it is aware

of how forlorn a plightof this little wrapper’s flight

through life, in motion.

Everyone has those gum wrapper moments, through good times and bad

Just floating,floating through the breeze.

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Untitled - Julia Zhu

Pikachu Peeps - Jennifer Duan24

Fish Brotha - Nelson Hua25

UntitledAndy Han

I like books. All types of books. I like to think thatwhat’s inside is what matters.

I went to the library one day,looking for a book.Perusing the aisles, browsing the shelves.Hoping that a book wouldcatch my eye,pique my interest.

All I saw,were books I had seen before,thought about opening,and then had moved on.

Time was running out.Another empty trip. Until I saw itOr did it see me?

The corners of my mouthcurled into a smirk.

Gotcha.

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I couldn’t describewhy this particular bookhad caught my eye.All I knew,was that I had to know more.

I pulled the novella, From the shelf.“hm, never seen you before.”“Guess where I’ m from”“I …have no idea”

I didn’t know how I felt.The book,she kept calling my name.But not tonight.Perhaps,some other day.

It was after I had left the library,that I realized,I had lived with that bookand other bookswith covers just like hersfor quite some time.

I had lived with them for so long,I had taken them for granted.Lumped them all together,so that with their jackets on,I couldn’t even tell them apart

Damn.Maybe I’m not above,judging a book by its cover. 27

International Development Information NetworkAssociation (DEVNET) Pavillion - Anonymous

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Sonnet XVIAnonymous

When I consider what I have becomeI often shake my head and hide my faceI feel the pressure tagged upon my raceAnd know that I have failed in things to someI try to stop, forget and have some rumTo party and to rage in every placeWhen playing Kings to try to get that aceAs if these things would help my feelings numbBut God replies in haste to me, He says“There is no better than to be your best,For many there are things that hurt their headsBut never, ever think that it’s too late,To change the scores you get on every testTo look for chances everywhere you’re led”And somehow I believed Him; life is great.

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The Alexandrian SolutionKathy Zhou

I am ready to leavebut we are prisoners of a floating worldcaught in nets of sea floss, boundby ageless time.I look at your face in the mirror and it becomes the appendix of my fears and our lies.We hover in chairs five feet above the ground with our suitcases,ready to leave, then unbuckling them only to findCobwebsCrushed velvet stainsRegrets.I’m sorry, I whisper. I’m sorry I opened the doorand let the beast in. I’m sorry I slept through the thunderstorm.But it’s sunny todayAnd all I want to do is hold your handAnd jump.

Kirkland - Chris Honiball

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Porthole - Nelson Hua

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Quit Your GamingAnonymous

I

What’s up, how’s it going? Check it out, I’m about to log in… yeah Vulcnlord333’s right where I left him. I’ve been playing this game now for almost three years, and it’s the center of my life. My schedule these days goes like this: Wake up and go to school, game ‘til dinner, eat at the computer, game, do homework, and sleep. I basically get on my PC whenever I can. I’ve got three more years to go until I graduate high school but I don’t really care since it’s more time to game – every day I’m just cruising, doing what I have to for the grade and talking to people only a couple times in a day. I don’t really have many friends anyway, just people I talk to when I feel embarrassed sitting alone and people I’ve known for a while. Doesn’t matter, my two best friends live hundreds of miles away and are my long-time gaming buddies. Right now there’s some stuff going on, like my parents are getting sepa-rated and my grandmother’s been really disappointed about how I spend so much time gaming and how I’ve gotten so unhealthy. You know what, whatever. It doesn’t matter as long as I get to game.

II

I just entered my junior year, and I know it’s only been a year since I last narrated to you, but life’s gotten dark. I don’t want to sound like a typical emo high schooler, but these days I’m really in low spir-its as I navigate a grayscale life. It’s hard to wake up on days I don’t have school because I just can’t think of anything that I want to get up for. I usually get online to game, though when no one else is on I’ve started to feel bored and isolated. I wish I had friends to hang out with like everyone else seems to more than anything else, though, I wish I had loved another hobby.

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Dusseldorf UBPA Case - Anonymous

III

I can nearly taste graduation from this high school. Believe it or not, I don’t game anymore. Honestly, nothing better could have happened to my life. I met a really nice girl in the sum-mer after my junior year, and the joy of hanging out with her kicked the ass of my old, slavish hobby. This isn’t about her now, but what she made me see. It was like taking the red pill from Morpheus – once again I saw that coded, made-up world for what it is, and I couldn’t make any other choice but to finally surface to reality. That girl had cleaned me up. Yet when I look back at high school, I absolutely can’t believe how I spent my years. I had the freedom of four years to seize life by the hands and demand it take me on adventures to make all sorts of friends and try new things. Instead, I let my previous relationships decay and my social skills atrophy, and for what? Lots of alone time to experience a fake reality? I’m telling you now: If you game heavily, stop. It’s not some-thing you can look back on for satisfaction. You’ll regret it.

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Tear It Up - Miyuki Sekimitsu

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My Friend from Benedito Calixo - Rebecca Keng

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The EtudeJonathan Guzman

And again

the dance beginsour battlefield, ebony hills laced upon

rolling plains of ivory. your weapons, bullets of black,

batteries of lines and words of centuries old.

My weapons, my handsmy eyes,

my mind; and nothing else

I deflect your first blow; you think a round of thirty-seconds would faze me? My

left hand catches your bullets; the hillscollapse

and thunderous quakes break the white plains.

Untitled - Chris Honiball

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And you do. You mistakeme a fool as you slow. As you rest. As you

should. But it’s my turn now. A turn of my wrist; the mountains

fall. The plains rollaway.

And a note sustains through the darksky. I see you. Your bullets drop, your batteries

and lines fall into a blackbar that fades into white.

The sound of a thousand hands clapping.The depth of the earth as I bring

the landscape to a standstill. The darkened hills rise and the plains fall into

an alabaster finishas I wipe the blood of my brow

and sayfine

Untitled - Chris Honiball

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the world, far behind usKathy Zhou

We met like Rimbaud and Verlainein late September the yellow leaves fallingon your eyes making them bluer than bluelighter than light. You’re nervous, navy pupils blown wide spideringinto irises like ink in the ocean butall I can think of is how the only way I know youis by following the backbones of your m’saround the curves of your lowercase g’scatching on sharp bones of your k’sthrough the ribs of your uppercase E’syour handwriting sprawling across voids and wastelandsending at the stoop of my front door.You carried a small traveling suitcasewhich either meant you were going to stay for a day or foreverfingers clutching my last letter reading simply,We await you; we desire you and enclosing simplya one-way train ticket to Paris.

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Perception - Miyuki Sekimitsu

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Peace - Mingyun Zhao

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Born from KitesAngela Luo

Author’s Note: “Born from Kites” is one of two companion science fiction short stories that explores the concept of parallel universes. The author would like to thank Professors Jay Clayton and Robert Scherrer, who teach HONS 182 Science/Fiction, for all their help in fine-tuning this work.

---------------

If you ask for my most treasured memory, -She’ll tell you it’s a scent. We had homeroom together each morning, and he always greeted me with a friendly embrace and cheeky grin. It was an unusual experience, to be frank, as the smell of burning coals always lingered on his track jacket. I never asked Yusuke why, since that smoky perfume became somewhat of an indulgence for me. It was my early morning coffee. When I first met Yusuke in elementary school, I hated him. During Tanabata, the summer festival, we wrote our wishes on paper and floated them down the Daigawa River. We were both trying to catch fireflies out by the banks, darting back and forth with our kid-sized bug catching nets. He pushed past me to reach the largest one that was hovering lazily over the nearby patch of clovers, sending me knee-high into Daigawa’s waters. Tears welled up, and I gave him an angry shove; but he showed me how to whistle with grass in between my thumbs, so I forgave and forgot. In the years that followed, we never caught fireflies alone during Tanabata. He was different from other children and gifted in making people smile and laugh; tobi ga taka wo umu, a hawk born from kites. Whenever I felt overwhelmed with schoolwork or household duties, he ran around me, squawking and flapping his arms; he always ended his silly dances with the same phrase, “Aiko, time spent laughing is time spent with the Gods.” -God could not be this cruel. She could smell it now, the scent of burning. Yusuke stared inquisitively at my rather apathetic expression, “Don’t pretend you’re not excited for today. It’s the last first. Aren’t you the least bit happy about being a senior?” 41

“Not really. It just means that we have to be serious now. Why don’t you seem the least bit nervous about college entrance exams? Have you made your career choice yet?” “Nope! I can’t decide between a doctor, lawyer, pianist, or pop star...what do you think?” I raised my eyebrows. “Pop star? Seriously? You’re crazy.” Yusuke launched into his rather ambitious plan to become the next Asian, teen sensation as we started up the hill towards Midorihi High School. The road was flanked by our town’s sakura trees, whose blossoms fell in fading, blushing blankets. - Her vision was fading, his bright eyes bandaged with cotton balls. “…And then I would go dance for those big shot execs in South Korea. They can’t resist my charm, right?” Yusuke playfully nudged my arm. I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say. Shouldn’t you bulk up a bit? You’re like a stick.” “Wow, Aiko. You’re so mean today!” -She somehow found herself back amongst the sakura trees again. They were amazing, weren’t they? Eternal. Enduring. It was chilly outside, and the trees were bare, casting harsh angles on the road to Midorihi. She mentally traced the patterns which ended at the man’s feet. She didn’t recognize him, but he was tall, gangly, and gray, as skeletal as the naked trees. He approached her. “What don’t you like about these trees?” I looked up. Yusuke nearly collided with my desk in his haste. He managed to squeak out, “Are you ready to go adventuring at the hanami festival?” Adventuring? Well, I suppose you could put it that way. Weren’t we just going to help the Festival Committee with the sakura viewing ceremony? They just needed us to drive some refreshments over to the viewing area. Yusuke chattered away as we packed up the backseat of the Committee’s car with brightly colored pink, green, and white sweet rice dumplings, or dango. “Alright, here we go!” Yusuke punched the ignition, and the car grumbled to life. He turned up the knob on the radio and tuned into his favorite pop station. Cheesy and bubbly. That was just how we liked it, and we sang loudly as we sped down the hill towards the festivities. Yusuke drummed his hands against the steering wheel while his head bobbed up and down.

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-She remembered the time where his steering wheel jerked. The car spun, and the burning stopped. The rain continued to fall. We set up the Midorihi High School dango stand, placing the small confections in lines across the trays, like desks lined up in a classroom. It was a Wednesday, she remembered. He didn’t come in for his test. “Massive brain damage,” the doctors had said. There was an abnormally small pink dumpling left in the tray. I pointed at it and said to Yusuke, “What should we do with this?” -“Don’t you want to fly away from here? It’s called Tobiwa.” It glinted slightly under the moonlight as the man placed it into her hand. “I can sell it to you for a fair price. Round trip to a parallel universe…” He placed the tiny sweet in my hand. The Tobiwa was liquid, clear as spring water. It came with a syringe. “Yusuke is still here. You only have to look for him elsewhere. In another universe. Don’t you believe that there are many worlds?” He chortled, “You should keep it! It’s small, like you.” “The world is much larger than you think.” “Don’t think too much of it, Aiko! We can always make more of these small ones some other day.” -“Yusuke’s dead here, isn’t he? Don’t you want to see him again?” The festivities had finally slowed down, and Yusuke and I bowed to our last customers. “Hey, Aiko! Look at all the blossoms still falling.” -”But they’re not, they’re not…” She drove the needle into her arm. She pushed down. “Coming?” The nighttime shadows chased Yusuke as he walked back towards the hill, which was embraced in a green sunset. I followed him down the hill with the sakura trees, curtains falling and blushing. Time spent laughing is time spent with the Gods. So she took up the needle again and laughed. She could smell burning coals.

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acknowledgementsThe editor and the APAHM team would like to thank the following for their immensecontribution:

APAHM - Anthem Editing Subcomittee

Kathy ZhouJulia Zhu Jennifer Duan Kendric Ng Kevin LiuKevin XieKevin LeeJunyi ChuRaisha PradhanQing Qing ZhengEileen Zhu

Sponsors

Vanderbilt Student Government

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Untitled - Nelson Hua

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