Be a Truthful Tamale

It’s 2024.04.01 on the lunar calendar today.

HELLO—I’m shouting hello to you from across the internet! Some days I feel like yelling and it is an improvement from the ambivalence and apathy I had been feeling.

After having dreams of raids and genocide, I unplugged myself from the news but obviously people living those nightmares can’t just opt out. Hearing of the campus protests, I was wondering what we did when we were in college when I cracked open a 2010 journal and stumbled upon an entry about my sister being in a student senate meeting debating whether Berkeley should divest from countries that build weapons used against Palestine. I remember her getting death threats for voting in favor of divestment, but I don’t recall it being to divest from Israel. (There’s a divestment letter going around now for UC alums you may consider signing, if applicable.)

Twenty-something Joyce wrote then: “It seems like a complicated issue. But this part is simple. Don’t fund companies that are going to help torture innocent people.” I miss the clarity, focus, and certainty of youth that drives them to action.

Here’s a photo that shows me on Lower Sproul at a protest that I have no memory of. I’m holding a sign that says “Support Thai!” and my sister said it was probably to save Asian language courses. Funny how selective and incomplete memory is.

It’s easy to disengage and curl up into a ball and I’m actively fighting against such tendencies, including in my personal life. While in this phase of working on the creative and release of an album as an indie musician, I’ve been on hiatus from practicing gayageum (or really making music at all) and had also put seeing friends on the back burner, constantly chased by one deadline after another. But without music and friendships, I become a husk of a person and I want to be a … tamale?  

It’s been rewarding losing track of time catching up with friends and claiming a community and I’m starting to return to equilibrium after a volatile period. Listening to a small but growing voice inside that says "always tell yourself the truth” has been helpful, bringing newfound clarity and confidence in the choices I’m making.

Now a hard segue into something else → I designed a K–2nd grade lesson for Smithsonian Folkways for the “Asian Americans, Native Hawaiians, Pacific Islanders, and Their Music” pathway a while ago. We’re currently piloting it in beta mode so if you know teachers (they do not need to be music educators) who might like to try out “Little Bird: Birdcalls and the Gayageum” with their students, please pass this along to them. They’ll find a link to give feedback on the final slide of the lesson. It’s a good lesson for any time of year there are birds (aka all year round, at least where I live) but now may be an especially good time, given that it is AAPI Heritage Month.

And the latest song and video from my upcoming album: You and a Song! Watch the music video I shot with Jon (remember when I was stressed about finding someone to give me a ‘50s hairdo?) and/or stream the song here or there.

For something else from the ‘50s … I called my former teacher, current friend, and retired opera director and choreographer Rhoda recently. When I asked her if she has given away a lot of books (she was having visitors take books from her library), she exclaimed that nobody wants books anymore. That made me a little sad and so I took out the 1950s Peanuts comic book I got the last time I visited her Greenwich Village apartment and read through it. It’s very good. I took photos to earmark some and have been sending them to friends. I want to share a favorite with you below.

Moving on to the ‘70s and listening to Chico’s Construção 🎧

Always tell yourself the truth, tamale.