Tag: Parenting

Feminism Vietnamese way

I have seen them in Ao Dai, on scooters.

I have seen them in Ao Dai, holding child, on scooters (perhaps on the way to childcare) before work.

I have seen them with child canvassing the street selling lottery tickets.

Perhaps I used to be that very child my teacher mom in Ao Dai used to carry.

I remember we had to get help. Live-in maids. Four working adults in a family were not available for one child.

Existential loneliness. Thay, nhay, chup (stand on the table, toss the ball, jump in mid air, and catch it while falling).

I repeated that drill so many times, it now stuck in my memory.

Then, luckily, I got a hold of my brother’s guitar.

So, from then on, me and the strings.

Back to feminism in Vietnam as I experienced it.

Vietnamese female went professional such as accountant (my sister), teacher (my mom) , pharmacist (my sister-in-law) and dentist (my niece), during the 60’s and war time.

They put in long hours, performed up to par.

Then came home. Another round of expectations: that of a housekeeper, to have home-cooked meals on the table and clean sheets in the bed (Vietnamese female version of Papa – “keep those shoes on my feet”).

Fast forward to the here and now.

Some took a short cut (yahoo news features a mug shot of a supposedly $2500 per night call girl). Others migrate overseas under pretense and pretext of marrying to foreigners.

I only know how my mom lived her life.

From morning to mid-night.

I refer to her in another blog (Mom’s Ao Dai).

But I cannot help mentioning her again since I saw another mom-type, holding baby in arm, while riding the scooter, in Ao Dai (receptionist uniform at a Vung Tau resort).

Good luck to all the children without a helmet. Good luck to all those moms who struggle to raise a family in a very hot, flat and crowded city.

Good luck to young and emerging female type who has to juggle between tradition vs modernity without tossing the baby out with bath water.

Everyone I spoke to agreed that here in Vietnam ,

it’s the women who actually run the show: power, money and happiness/well-being of their children.

Betty Friedman would have been proud: here, they practice feminism without labeling it as so. Just do it. Lean-In. Thanks Mom.

Motherhood, Madness and Meditation

Seeing a photo of a grey-hair guy, on bike and  backpack, riding home with bouquet of flowers in the front basket, reminded me of International Day of Women.

There is no doubt, according to an Australian’s observer, that women are bosses here in Vietnam.

Tiger Mom.

To punctuate this point, I was sitting at an outdoor cafe at 7:30 AM, when three different women, on bikes, taking turn showing up for work across the street.

Despite traffic congestion, pollution, heat, and child-care, they were on the dot.

In fact, I did not need to verify this point.

I lived with a few: mother, sister, cousin, nieces and wives.

The women I know have been remarkably strong, resilient and yes, slightly masculine in the sense that they did not mind the menial work.

Now, with I phone, I pad and scooter, they are on a level playing field.

multitasked, multi-talented and multi-facet.

Women respond to stress much better than men.

Phone companies love female customers: they chat, text, and send pics.

When e-commerce fully takes hold here,  we can be sure that women will spend a chunk of  change online.

Still at early stage of mass market, Vietnam , and its female consumers, are well on the way to fulfill life’s dream: motherhood, madness (shop till they drop) and yes, meditation.

My mom showed me that these two extreme can co-exist. In fact, they need each other to balance out a person, a woman at that.

On this Women Day, let’s salute that we all come from the same Womb, and Technology finally erases the inequality of the sexes (caused by agrarian  culture and industrialization).  Two Vietnamese women came to mind: one at the Pentagon, invented heat-seeking bomb, and the other, in the US Air Force , known for precision strike.

I wish a lot of luck on those husbands whose wives have out-achieved their dreams. May they seek comfort in the company of good men who do not succumb to madness, but to meditation.  A woman’s glory is also a man’s joy. Just have to update your version of software. Think different. Collaborate and not compete.

Daughter-Daddy

Before my daughter arrived, I had heard of other people’s birth complications which required C-section etc…

So we took up Lamaze classes, and I felt “effeminated” among men and women with pillows.

When I drove A. home the hospital  offered to wheel her out (already strapped in the car seat to begin with). In the parking lot (A.’s first outing) some passerby said “Oh, how cute”.

I realized then I got “china” to be cherished and well-guarded.

The drive home was unnecessarily longer than usual (with light rain to dramatize the scene). At home, we had friends already with welcoming signs.

“Welcome home A.”

She was indeed special and welcome to this world (later, she would experience the Northridge earthquake, LA riot, dot.com burst, single-parented, 9/11 and great Recession. But that was for later).

A. grew up calling me Papi (after the baby sitter’s language).

A. has an amazing sense of coordination. This showed in her taking up Hip-Hop at an early age, and went on to win in competition (no 1 USA).

She collaborated with her “brown” friends (the new valley girls).

And conducted herself beyond reproach.

Any dad would be lucky to have a daughter like A.

She now in Jr College, juggling P/T job and school.

I used to have the same work load while in college.

Time passes more quickly when you are busy. It keeps you out of trouble.

On Father’s Day, I always received her self-made cards. This year, as in years earlier, always with pictures from A.’s childhood. The bond will never be broken.

Every man deserves a special relationship like this.

It redeems us .

You know you can look at yourself in the mirror when your daughter said “we’re tight”.

The role of the alpha males has evolved over the years: from protector to mentor, from “lord” to buddy.

This year A. sent me a picture with us wearing same T-shirts (in design and size).

Now, that’s team. It doesn’t matter that in the photo, she was a child in over-sized T-shirt (for some day, when she reaches middle-age, I will be fading away).

For that moment, as a team, we were like one, tight.

Daughter-Daddy. No business travel, no airport food.

Just sitting on the floor, at eye level. Give Daddy a hug, a kiss.

It’s like communion. I was absolved and consecrated.

It’s not wrong doing or right doing. It’s given that we are imperfect.

What matters is, like any other species, we are built biologically, to transfer our survival and artistic genes. Do this, don’t do that. Eat this, no, not that (poisonous).

So, we navigated through the Valley (San Fernando) and yes, Mountain peak (Grand Canyon). I kidded that A. was a “jungle boy”, when she took off her shirt on one hot day at the peak of the Aztec pyramid. Back in urban jungle, she is surrounded by her Hip-Hop friends. The girl is popular, and well-liked. I would rather you judge me by looking at how well she turns out.

You see, the best thing in life came in small packages. And even better, when it’s from above. A. didn’t have to send me any gift at all. She herself has already been one.

Daughter-Daddy. I promised her my 555th blog will be dedicated to her, for keep’s sake. That future might see more incidents and mishaps, but has one constant: Daughter-Daddy: tight.

Honor roll

I attended a power breakfast this morning.

Neither Presidential nor Congressional.

Only elementary honor students and designated parents.

Something about “the magic”.

New Report System (Most improved etc… as opposed to traditional A,B,C grading).

I am proud of my daughter.

She exhibits all the traits of an up and coming Asian student (the model minority). Tiger Mom, you know (translation: I got “Tiger” spouse).

Just then did I notice Bonnie from Penn State, and how she was introduced as one “who knows every student by name”.

That’s a tall order to know each kid and affirm them.

Where would we be today without those “Bonnie’s”.

I am a TK (Teacher kid).

I know the  price a TK has to pay (as his mom was at service of thousands of other kids).

Mom, could you tug me to bed (instead of grading school papers late into the evening).

Society is highly hypocritical when it comes to children’s right and

pet’s right etc…

But as soon as we grow up, Bam! we got put into boxes (in California, latest  census measures showed ” alarming decline of non-Hispanic white group etc…”).

Indignez Vous?

The author of the above title also joint-authored the UN Human Right charter. Still going strong at 93. Still fighting with every liter of hot blood.

I want to leave behind two beautiful kids, who will give so much to the sustainability of spaceship Earth.

It’s always noble of parents to say they want better lives for their children. This was true with my Mom.

Now it’s my turn.

Have you ever paid attention to the hyphen (-) key on top line of the key board.

We all are “hyphens” in between generations,  not “dumb” nodes.

We adapt, evolve and discriminate (in a good sense), to uplift and elevate next generations. Net-Geners will have longer life expectancy, but conversely,

they will bear the brunt of  financial and environmental burden.

I felt sorry for having bought  the water bottle trend back in the 90’s.

For you, perhaps, the SUV‘s.

Global warming wasn’t the act perpetrated by any single person.

The school handed out my child’s honor roll.

But it’s our responsibility to make sure she get breakfast roll, without accompanied toxicity.

America is still number one in some areas, among them, obesity and rate of incarceration. Yoga, baby, yoga.