“It is changing because we are making it change. Not because anyone is letting us in. Everyone has a good intention, it’s just not everyone knows our story. I think people who live the stories should be the people who should tell the stories.“ – Constance Wu [x]
As much as I like the non-binary flag I’d prefer it if people could just remember that the white part of the trans flag
represents non-binary people and stop treating people who don’t fit the gender binary as “less tans” than binary trans people
Lots of non-binary people have felt worried about if they’re allowed to call themselves trans, or if they’re “trans enough” to use the trans flag or join in during trans events like trans visibility days without even knowing that the white stripe on the trans flag is for us non-binary/genderqueer/genderfluid/agender/intersex/etc folk.
I feel like it is important that the white stripe is recognised because currently so many people who don’t fit the gender binary feel less valid as trans people than binary trans people.
Let’s talk about it. So before we even saw the short, we knew the story featured an Asian woman whose children had left the nest. And as you watch the short, you pick up that this woman is likely to be a first generation immigrant.
When we meet Bao, we hear baby gurgles and giggles, so the audience knows that we basically just witnessed a birth. And as we see Bao grow more and more, we witness the immense care and affection the woman puts into caring for Bao, establishing that it is her “child”. However, with the care and affection, also comes an extreme protection, in which she attempts to keep it by her side at all times, away from soccer – and most importantly– away from non-Asians. As an Asian-American who was brought over at a young age, this is incredibly familiar behavior. Our first generation parents love us AND their home, and they try to instill that same dedication to our native culture, despite what our individual interests may be. This can cause a rift between the two figures, the Asian parent and the Asian-American child. One wants to keep the other close and safe, away from the unfamiliar, while the other, unaware of the dangers of unfamiliarity, wants to learn and explore. This rift grows as the two continue to pursue their goals.
Eventually, it comes to the climax. Bao comes home with a non-Asian fiancé and it’s leaving home. Unequipped to cope, the woman eats Bao. This scene hit me the hardest. Instantly after eating Bao, the woman regrets it. My interpretation? She realizes that in trying to protect Bao by keeping him home against his will, she destroys it. Kills it, really. But wait!
A new character appears: Bao, but human and grown. We can connect the dots that THIS is the child who left the nest, and what we witnessed was this man’s youth leading up to his departure from home. So we can start piecing things together. Bao from the start, has always represented this guy. And the woman had wondered “how could I have kept him with me?” And through reliving her motherhood with Bao, she realizes she couldn’t. Her child wasn’t going to live life the same way she does, in her ethnic enclave, and she forcing him to do so would have destroyed him. She realizes she has to meet him halfway, thanks to him taking the first step of coming home. So the sharing of the bao making process with her son and his wife is the Asian parent reconciling her son’s Asian-American identity with her own Asian identity.
TL;DR As an Asian-American, seeing the struggles of cultural reproduction vs. cultural assimilation and its relationship with immigrant parenthood on the big screen induced tears, and I’m not ashamed.
“14-year-old Parkview High School Freshman, Caleb Christian was concerned about the number of incidents of police abuse in the news. Still, he knew there were many good police officers in various communities, but had no way of figuring out which communities were highly rated and which were not.
So, together with his two older sisters: Parkview High School senior Ima Christian, and Gwinnett School of Math, Science, and Technology sophomore, Asha Christian, they founded a mobile app development company– Pinetart Inc., under which they created a mobile app called Five-O.
Five-O, allows citizens to enter the details of every interaction with a police officer. It also allows them to rate that officer in terms of courtesy and professionalism and provides the ability to enter a short description of what transpired. These details are captured for every county in the United States. Citizen race and age information data is also captured.
Additionally, Five-O allows citizens to store the details of each encounter with law enforcement; this provides convenient access to critical information needed for legal action or commendation.”
Kye Allums, 25 year old former college basketball player—the first openly division 1 transgender athlete—talks about his experience with the media after coming out as trans in Laverne Cox Presents: The T Word. Watch here or here.
This film, set during the 1970s, is very dark and pessimistic story about a teenage Aboriginal girl dealing with the horrific residential school system while navigating an entire community traumatized by the ongoing legacy of colonialism on Turtle Island. It’s some of the best filmmaking I’ve seen in a long time. The film is in English and Mi’kmaq.
Kawennahere Devery Jacobs puts in a heart-wrenching and intense performance. And the cinematography is stunning. You’ve got to see this film! This is truly Indigenous Noir.