We must do something when we have the power to do so

“If you know something is morally reprehensible, then it is your moral obligation to stop it as soon as possible. “

Jane Velez-Mitchell

I have the opposite of a photogenic memory.  I have trouble memorizing, or even remembering details, names, and people.  But despite that, there are random things throughout my life that I have memorized.  Those things that I’m not even “recalling,” they’re just always there at the tip of my brain.

I love to sing. It’s therapeutic; it’s a creative expression; it somehow allows me to be completely present while getting lost in memories tied to songs.

The first “non-kid” song I remember memorizing, learning every lyric, and became permanently lodged into my brain was I’m proud to be an American by Lee Greenwood.  I learned it for an audition in third grade to get into an enriched music program, which at the time was a big deal to me.  I didn’t pick the song, my mom did. I loved every one of the countless hours I practiced that song with my mom, and my audition was a success as I got into the program. And since then, that song has been a part of me. Not just because it brings me back to those memories, but because I also love America.  I love the opportunity it gave both of my parents, who weren’t born here. I love that it has allowed me to be fortunate, grow, and live in a way that I don’t know I would be able to in another country.

A friend of mine recently publicly shared how proud she is of who she is, her heritage, her bi-racial ethnicity, her family.  She shared the confidence she has for herself was, at a young age, instilled in her by her parents.  It struck me, because I feel so privileged that the same kind of self-worth I have for myself was ingrained in me by my parents.  The same type of self-esteem and pride that I hope to instill within you, for you.

But this morning in the shower, as I was getting lost in the songs I was singing, I had a physical reaction as I, through routine, started singing I’m proud to be an American.  I stopped five words into the chorus. I couldn’t finish singing the sixth word.

At that moment, I tried to reconcile my feelings. There were two competing feelings: disappointment in the America that I love, and fear.

Why the fear? Despite being born here, despite being nothing short of 100% American, I know that as a person of South Asian descent, if I criticize America, a natural response for too many people my country is to tell me to “go back to” one that is foreign to me.

And as I reconciled that realization, those emotions faded, and defiance was all that was left. Even needing to think about holding back my feelings. To be scared of fellows Americans questioning my eligibility, my belonging, my right to be here is everything wrong with my country.

I am an American, but at this moment, and in so many others over the years, I am not proud to be one.

But it doesn’t have to be that way, because I, we, are part of this country, despite what anyone says. We have the power to do something.  We, as Americans, are obligated to defend the rights, humanity, and the people of this country.

Most of the time, I’m writing about how I can support you, but even though you will experience racism, you are fortunate for the mild racism you will experience.  It doesn’t dismiss the pain that you will feel or the pain that I have felt at the hand of racism, but we must contextualize our pain compared to others.  Right now, others need us. In the future, others will need us. I need to do more to help our black friends and even our non-friends, because we are all humans and deserve to be treated fairly.

I have a crushing feeling that when you are old enough to read this, more will be needed. Learn what you can do, and when you can, do something to help too. Anything. Everything you can.

In the meantime, until I die, I will do what I can too.

To be seen

"There is nothing more daring than showing up, putting ourselves out there and letting ourselves be seen"

Brene Brown

Another very special post from your mom:

I'm writing this to you on my last Valentine's Day before becoming a parent and it seems especially appropriate because to me this holiday should never have been about just hearts, chocolates and flowers. If anything it should be a time to express gratitude for all the people in your life that you love whether that's romantic relationships, family or friends and to focus on what that love means, not just one day of the year but every day after.

One of the greatest acts of love and trust is to allow someone to see you, really see you at your worst and accept you anyway. For me, that person is your dad and he has brought so much joy into my life by not just accepting my flaws but loving me more for them.

This is a gift we hope you will give us, allowing us to see the full picture of who you are and understanding that showing us your imperfections won't make us love you any less, in fact it will make us love you more.

We hope you will learn a lesson that hasn't come so easily for me which is that you can trust others with your heart and you can trust that even if you do get hurt or make a mistake, you will have been a better and braver person for it. By allowing yourself to push past the discomfort and fear and truly be seen, you will open up a world of possibilities. And if you do get hurt, know that we will be there to catch you when you fall.

At the end of the day, the greatest message we hope to impart is that the first step towards being vulnerable and brave is to truly love yourself. This is something that you and I will be learning together as it is a daily challenge to remind myself that perfection is not the goal, but authenticity is.

Don't just highlight your strengths, embrace your weaknesses and understand that everyone has them. It is first and foremost your job to love yourself, not just in spite of them but because of them and because they make you who you are. And once you are able to truly see yourself from every possible angle, and love yourself more because of it, that will be the greatest gift of all.

Answers and Questions

“Always the beautiful answer who asks a more beautiful question.”

E.E. Cummings

I've always hated the idiom "curiosity killed the cat." While it's origins might be have some legitimacy based on the dangers of unnecessary investigation and experimentation, my qualms are rooted in the ill-defined and highly subjective word of 'unnecessary.' As a result. the phrase serves less of a caution to the unnecessary and more of a condemnation to being curious. 

Now I will admit, I am biased. My aversion to this rhetoric stems from my own inherent and unshakable curiosity. The statement therefore insinuates that a large part of me is "wrong," so of course I am not a fan. That said, and as I have mentioned before, I wholeheartedly believe that questions are where our unique opinions start and how we understand different perspectives.

What I want to add to that viewpoint is that while asking questions is great, simply imploring you to "ask the hard questions" is like me telling you to run a marathon. The basics seem so easy: just put one foot in-front of the other. But to run well, it takes technique, skill and practice. In the same way, learning to ask questions well doesn't come without practice; it is a skill that is acquired.

To be clear, while I agree that there are no dumb questions, all questions aren't equal. Some questions are better than others.  And while it sometimes takes 'dumb' questions in order to get to better questions, make no mistake that the 'dumb' questions don't just magically turn into better ones. It is the combination of questioning at great volume paired with layering depth to each question to obtain truly insightful answers.

One method that I learned from from reading A More Beautiful Question by Warren Berger is the "five why" method, which I lovingly think of as the 'toddler method.' It is simple: after your initial question, ask "why?" five times after each answer. For example, if a college student asks themselves "why didn't I make an 'A' on that test?" the answer might be "I didn't study." Normally, people stop there. They didn't do well because they didn't study; so next time, study. So simple! Except that isn't always the case. It could be something more similar to this:

• Why didn't I make an 'A' on that test? I didn't study.

• Why? I didn't have the time.

• Why? I didn't get home from work until 12:00 am.

• Why? I needed the extra money to pay for rent.

• Why? I am two months behind on rent.

• Why? I am renting an apartment that I cannot afford.

Now we are talking about something completely different. The problem isn't studying at all. And until the actual problem is fixed, it will likely be hard ever to make a real change.  Sometimes, it only takes three 'whys', and sometimes it takes ten, but the point is to keep probing until you get to the root of the answers.

Another method I use is simply restating questions or expanding upon them to distill answers into actionable steps.  In the example below, I start with one of the most referenced questions in society (and in my opinion, a dumb question), and change it into an internal dialog that might lead to having a more meaningful life.

1. What is the meaning of life?

2. What is meaningful in my life?

3. What makes them meaningful?

4. What other things have similar characteristics?

5. How can I add these things to my life?

These are just two of what I am sure are hundreds (if not thousands) of methods, but my point is that inquisition is how we understand what is actually happening.

In my experience, answers are a commodity. If you haven't found the answer you are looking for, you probably aren't asking the right question.  So instead of searching for answers, search for questions. And don't just search for any question, search for a more beautiful one.

P.S. I wish someone would have asked five "why?" the first time someone said "curiosity killed the cat."  Maybe there was once a wolf named Curiosity.