Yellow. Yell-oh. Yell "Oh!"

The book I am currently reading is Yell-Oh Girls! by Vickie Nam. In this book contains past experiences of Asian American girls that faced racism, discrimination, family matters, and many other complex issues they've encountered in Asia and America.

Being an Asian American myself, I can understand the pain these people suffered - not because I'm Asian American, but because I faced many of these problems as an Asian American. This is some really complex wording, so just pretend you understood.

Connecting this to real life and my past experience, all I can remember is some inequality in elementary and junior high. In my past elementary school, there were different races, and different colors. During class, I would hear things along the lines of, "hey, you Chinese, right?" and I would reply, "Yeah/Duh". To be honest, elementary didn't matter...except for the times when they said I looked very Chinese, which is obvious.

During sixth grade, racism literally exploded. Combusted. I had an African-American friend who'd say mean, provoking things like, "you know, your toes...they look so...Asian. They don't look right. You're really yellow, too." Looking back at the past, she was a bit innocent, though. But most of our time, we would talk about how black/yellow/racist we are. This isn't really the most shocking part.

I was nominated as 'task manager' (in our school, each class had a folder which contains all the classmates' names and our teachers would comment whether an individual was off-task or excellent, and whether the entire class did good or bad in general) during sixth grade, as well. It was a really big thing to do that year - everyone wanted to see whether their teachers commented well or not. My science teacher warned me not to display it like that and put it in my backpack, but I couldn't help it; my teachers wanted it immediately and I had to leave on time with it. One day, a classmate screamed and tried to steal the folder from me. Of course, I tried my best to pull it away. He screamed, "You stupid Chinese motherfu**ker!" and I was seriously provoked by such rude manner (maybe I kicked him really hard one or two times...). My science teacher then found me with the folder in my hands and I was fired from task manager. I was crying desperately, not because I was fired. I actually felt more relaxed being fired. What I hated the most was the racial comment this so-called 'classmate' said towards my face. I took the comment independently, however, which I regret. Sixth grade was the worst grade I have ever experienced.

I received many stereotypical comments overtime during junior high, too. In seventh grade, I always received a 94+ average on all my classes but math. I was in Accelerated Math, but it only made it worse. I had high to low 80s during that year, along with my other Asian friend. Other Asians received 90+, but they knew how I felt. The others would state, "aren't you Asian? Aren't you supposed to be good at math?" and I would be a little offended. My mother and sister were so tense on me. At one point, I was on the computer watching a show, and my mom gave me food. Beforehand, my sister forced me to sweep the floor, and I just stopped when she was in front of me. She said, "what? Go CLEAN it!" and, of course, I did. When my mom gave me my food, she went back into the living room with my sister. My sister literally talked in a tone that I could hear, and said, "You know, this girl...she swept, right? Then she stopped and left the garbage on the floor". Mother, went, "she's stupid. So lazy. And she's getting so lazy; back then you'd study right after you do homework and you don't play games on the computer". She said it in a disrespectful, rude manner. When she was on her laptop, I was eating and crying while she was behind me. I kept weeping until I ran to the bathroom. I couldn't believe she'd speak of me like that. I kept cursing to both of them in my mind. Too bad I'm not sis, freaking as*hole, I would repeat in my mind. I even planned of running away when I felt like I couldn't stand it anymore, but I would just be in more trouble. Even remembering this would make me cry, as I'm writing this. I'm different compared to my sister, after all.

I'm not sure about other people, but the most truthful stereotype is that Asian mothers are scary and they over-stress you.

Yellow. Yelloh. Yell

-- Templeton

The current book I'm reading is called The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff. So far, the main character Willie Upton has to live in her ancestral home in Templeton, New York along with her hippie mother known as Vi. Afterwards, biologists find a new prehistoric monster that was discovered as a new species in Lake Glimmerglass.

To be honest, I find this book possibly my most challenging one to understand. There are tons of unnecessary subplots, story is hard to follow, and too many unanswered necessities. I had to reread quite a lot to understand a chapter. The only thing that I can explain right now is Willie and Vi's relationship.

As a daughter of an over-securing mother, I can understand where Willie is going; Vi as well. The 'typical mother' will obviously make you study to be smarter - say, going to Stanford; rather than an archaeology career where the 'typical mother' thinks you won't bother making a living out of yourself. If I were Willie, I'd probably make a fool out of myself and say that I'm still going to Stanford, and then be ashamed of myself and start regretting later. But really, I think that Vi is going overboard.

This book somewhat reminds me of Life as We Knew It, a book that connects the main character with her mother frequently. Both describe happiness, sadness, and anger between both supporting and main characters.

If I were Vi in this situation, I would try to give Willie some more precaution, and take things more gently. People often make big mistakes, and there are times when anger doesn't solve it.

Being a mother doesn't seem easy.

Chanda's Secrets

// Note: some spoilers.

Chanda's Secrets by Allan Stratton refers to a 16-year-old girl named Chanda and her mother who are left with family troubles after her father died in the diamond mines. Her stepfather abused her, the other died of a stroke, and the third is an alcoholic. Her life hasn't been peaceful, ever.

The entire story that I've read so far is darkening. Chanda was about to be raped, her newborn sister died at 3 months, and she herself has AIDS. This brings us to the theme of death.

AIDS, known as Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome, is the after-phase of HIV (Human Immunodeficiency Virus) and occurs when your immune system contains less than two-hundred T-cells. This virus is commonly received from unsafe sex, or infected blood transfers. In this book, those with AIDS would be discriminated for having it. You would be shunned, and those connected with you can be shunned, or even kicked out of their house. To me, I think, would be completely rude.

I remember the day it was AIDS day - thousands of people lined up in their seats in a hospital, looking down, as if they were ashamed, or embarrassed, or simply sick. I always wonder how they feel deep down. I feel the same with Chanda's mother as well.

To be honest, I would think that those with AIDS love sexual intercourse (or something in-between) - but I can't help it, my mother constantly tells me not to be one of them. Reading this in the book reminds me of many stereotypical thoughts - that African-Americans love to have sexual intercourse, or that they usually get married at the age of 16, known to be raped, so and so and so and so. However, looking back at all the experiences of past books I've read, I'm assuming that Chanda's mother (whom received the AIDS and passed it on, genetic hereditary diseases) has a reason for it. But, I cannot comprehend why or how at the moment.

What do you think about this?

Posting About Posts - P.D.

Peter Diller's Blog Post

My blog post is about Peter Diller's social issue post and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime by Mark Haddon. In this book, an autistic child named Christopher becomes accused of a dog slaughter. As he slowly finds the culprit, he slowly understands life and (partially) his love for his parents.

What I find captivating in Peter's blog post is that he describes his thoughts in an engaging way - something along the lines of, "oh yeah, I never thought of that..." or "yeah, I think this too". His questions mostly describe this situation. Otherwise, his vocabulary and flow of his paragraphs are very sophisticated. I also tried using research as one of my factors to my blog posts.

I have read this book, and became inspired by this blog post. His research also wanted me to learn more about autism. His post made me think about connected questions relating to autism - whether we should accept autistic people as 'one' of 'us', and I wouldn't know what to do either. My first thoughts would be to gather all autistic children and put them into another community, or provide a better education in a public autism school; but the probability that it'll work remains to the low 10%s.

Or maybe society as a whole doesn't have to do a thing. Maybe scientists and researchers will find a way to cure autism - perhaps, through the use of genetic engineering, or brain inputs. Technology, especially in the medical major, has seriously been advancing since the 1900s. Maybe we can find a way this year. Or next year. Possibly a few decades, or even more. But eventually, we will find a cure.

Of all of the blogs I've read so far, I find this one the most interesting. I say this because of his intriguing, compelling language and provoking thoughts that can really improve our own blogs. His posts may even change the world for a better.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. (SPOILER)

NOTE: SPOILER. REALLY BAD SPOILER.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon refers to an autistic boy named Christopher Boone, and was accused of murdering a dog whom he's never killed. Because of his curiosity, he sets out to find the culprit and afterwards escapes his father.

I find it very saddening for one, because what Christopher does not realize is the human emotion. I cannot understand why he does not comprehend emotions, either - although, it may have been because a moment in life scarred him, which is possible, since he was told that his mother died from a heart attack. I, myself, would be in a trauma as well.

Autism is a disorder that affects the brain's growth in social and communication skills. Many of the symptoms include memorization of passages, stress during change of regime, painful noises, harsh times to make friends, so on and so forth. In my opinion, Christopher can also have a related ADHD symptom as well (intensive screaming).

What I find disappointing is the way he's being treated towards his parents, especially his mother. Christopher's mother left her own son because of her uncontrollable temper towards him. Knowing that, anyone can spot that she's irresponsible, no matter what. Besides, Christopher received autism from his mother, who was a carrier. It's not Christopher's fault. If you were to sum it up in an equation, the answer will end up as his mother and father.

I accuse Christopher's father as well for the troublesome part of the plot. One, being that he killed a dog because he was envious towards it and Mr.&Mrs.Shears is completely bogus. It also scarred Christopher's life. Two, he never told Christopher that his mother was still alive. I can understand why he wanted to keep it a secret; however, it's still somewhat bogus (especially since he's a man now).

Despite the fact that the plot is very twisted, it's intriguing.

SPOILERS. When you Reach Me Part II.

My far the most unexpected-moment-story I've ever read. Please note: there are many spoilers.

In When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead, main character Miranda realizes that the notes she received were actually from the "laughing man", known to be a crazy person on her block.

My current thoughts to the story all focus on the laughing man. The laughing man, who apparently knew that Sal was going to die and he saved him. The laughing man, who died saving him. It all sounds abnormal, yet makes sense.

First, the reason why Miranda referred to "you" in the book, was because she was writing directly to the noter, the laughing man. At first, I thought the mysterious person who wrote the notes was Sal, or Marcus. The main reason why I thought of it as Sal was because he was a very close friend to Miranda until the pandemonium. Sal may have avoided Miranda because of the notes and him being troubled, or because he felt troubled because he entered Miranda's house, which was almost a diameter away. I also thought that it was Marcus because he punched Sal. It was probably because he wanted him to stop being with Miranda so he can hide the notes. However,it turned out to be neither.

Unfortunately, what I cannot comprehend is how the laughing man knew that Sal was going to die. As intelligent as a person can be, it is nearly impossible for someone to tell the future, especially like that. When reading the last note in the book, I honestly thought that the note was from someone in the future trying to save Sal - possibly, future Sal? Something of the sort. Unexpectedly, it was the homeless guy on the street, practicing his kicks on that corner to prepare for saving Sal. It's seriously tearing to hear such a good old man being treated like a drunk person who's homeless.

But, it brings another questioning factor - why did the laughing man save Sal? May it be because he knows Miranda? Or maybe because he wanted to become a savior when he dies? It's all so confusing. Yet, it brings us to the question - are all homeless people crazy?

No. Maybe yes, if they were drinking enough Tequila to lie on the streets. But the laughing man tried so hard; I can actually picture him - kicking, crying, laughing. It was only for one reason.

To save Sal.