Editors Question: Live 8 is a series of 10 concerts on 4 continents with a total of 150 musical artists performing, beginning in Tokyo, Japan. They hope to bring more awareness to poverty, specifically in Africa. Do you think that this will impact global poverty on a large scale?
It’s almost an eternal question: How do you know when you are home? Is it that smell, when you walk into the kitchen, of familiar home-cooked food? Perhaps it’s the sounds of people you know simply talking amongst each other? Whatever it might be for you… that is what makes it so difficult to leave home.
I admit it. I’m a fake Chicagoan. For my whole life, I’ve never really lived in the city and yet have always told people I was from Chicago.
As a Vietnamese adoptee, I always searched for a sense of legitimacy, a sense of purpose, and somewhere to place myself comfortably in the spectrum of identity.
What’s ironic is that the term means keeping those skeletons in the closet, not putting it out for everyone to see. But when those skeletons somehow find their way out, that’s when we truly know where and from who love can be found. Sounds a little cliché? Don’t worry; the film will definitely surprise you.
The airport seemed like a megalithic bathroom, with its janitorial-fresh aroma, pale yellow tiled walls, and green steeped corridors. We headed into the front lobbies near the baggage checkpoints and ticket counters where my mom scoured the proximity for her brother, Uncle Bhoy.
“You Americans will look at us with fear and then, you will respect us.” I do not totally agree with those two statements. The United States already fears China. How can anyone not fear a country that has one-sixth of the world’s population?
I have yet to meet a parent who doesn’t have the tiniest bit of the worrywart in him or her. There seems to be this constant vigilance over the welfare of his or her child inherent in the position.
The other evening I woke up to sounds that should be familiar to me by now.
I live alongside one of the busier intersections in my area. Across the way is a supermarket, two Starbucks, a gas station and various shops and restaurants that I rarely remember exist.
I’ve always been a much bigger fan of Gregg Araki than I have of his films. A Gay Asian Male (as I’m sure he’s sick of being defined as), Araki has always fought to represent the marginalized.
