Blog

(Here is a music playlist I created as an accompaniment to this piece. Enjoy while reading or listen to it separately!) I have a purple monster that lives in my chest. It isn’t monstrous and doesn’t have sharp teeth in the traditional sense. It’s soft, formless—an amoeba that shifts and swells whenever I start questioning who I am or what I’m worth. It creeps up my throat, sticky and slow, until it coats my vocal cords and makes it harder for my voice to pass through. Growin

Reflections on the VBP Story Slam 2025 When I stepped onto the stage for the Vietnamese Boat People Story Slam 2025, I knew I wasn’t just telling a story. I was carrying a home with me. This year’s theme was My Journey , and while many journeys begin with movement, mine began somewhere quieter: memory, lineage, and the places that raised me. This piece didn’t start on a stage. It started in my class. Originally, I wrote this for a class assignment exploring the “Where I’m Fro

When I first touched down in Việt Nam, I thought I knew what to expect. I grew up hearing the stories of dusty roads, rowdy street...

As a family of six, everyone had a seat at the dinner table. My three older sisters filled the right side, while my parents and I sat on...