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Textures of April 30th: Snippets & Untitled

I wait for something meaningful, deep. A lesson, a memory. But they don’t say anything.
201907xx_NEWS

News & Events: July 2019

Socio-cultural, literary, and political news and events relating to Việt Nam and to the Vietnamese diaspora. ■ News from the Diaspora ■ Two Americans sentenced to...

THIS IS FOR MẸ: Dear Sweet Baby

Dear Sweet Baby, / I thought of you last night. / Your memory hit me with / A pierce and an ache, / And I sobbed longingly for you. Deep belly crying, / The kind that howls. / Three years ago today / I found out that after 13 weeks of carrying you, / I had lost you.

Once upon a mythic mundi: Five Poems by Lawdenmarc Decamora

who / deserves a perfect night, you in reverse / i will see us aged in reverse in Calauit Island / safari park the mid-resort of life upon life / quietly underneath

Not Everything Can Be Said: Artist Profile of Benedict Nguyen

The idea of motion does help me understand the sense of urgency I feel towards many things and the rhythm I’ve built around dancing and writing over the past few years.

THIS IS FOR MẸ: Arriving at Joy, with Ocean Vuong

The first time I read On Earth We Are Briefly Gorgeous, I got off the bus three stops early and cried outside of a 7-Eleven. So, when Ocean Vuong came to Seattle for a collaborative event hosted by the Seattle Public Library and The Elliott Bay Book Company, I knew I had to attend.

Textures of April 30th: Confessions of a Vietnamese Refugee

Yesterday, my history professor ordered me to stay after class and then apologized to me. “We are sorry for everything that we did. Vietnam was such a beautiful place with beautiful people.” I shifted awkwardly, unsure if this was the beginning or the end of the conversation.

Book Review: When Everything Was Everything

The displacement felt in these moments is like a gut punch, and I can feel my children feeling it, through my feeling it. They watch me as I read to them. I, too, am a refugee, I tell them. What a thing it is to be removed from a land, to flee from it, to begin again.

con ăn cơm chưa? | have you eaten yet?

an uncle would come in and ask me to write up a paragraph of the latest chef’s specials / so I felt very fortunate to be able to write in our language when he asked / he’d point out my misspellings / and I’d have to reassure myself that they didn’t make me any less of my parents’ child

quiet thương: Jessica Nguyen in Conversation with Vi Khi Nao

My favorite Vietnamese word is “thương,” which is actually the very word that I incorporated in 'queer lost love'... “Thương” is like a love that can be romantic but more familial, and connotes a deeper, more genuine connection that’s emanating from the feeler. “Thương” is innocent, pure, raw, wholesome, honest love. But because it’s often used in a familial context, the romantic appeal of its use gets overshadowed and lost.