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| I recently read an article about how the sound of Chinatown is changing from Cantonese to Mandarin. It was a fairly interesting article based on the availability of Mandarin and Cantonese classes offered, and how many parents are pushing their kids to learn Mandarin rather than Cantonese, even if it isn't their native tongue.
What bothered me isn't the article itself, rather the way some people still react to the concept of learning one's own language as foreign. Among the comments, I noted people who didn't understand why these kids were taught anything other than English, especially since they live in the U.S. Apparently the attitude that Asians are still foreigners still persists in this country, (at least outside of New York). And anything other than English is unimportant, according to these people.
Growing up in a Chinese-speaking household, I resisted learning the language simply because it made me different than my English-speaking friends. But as I got older, I realized there was a world beyond my neighborhood, beyond even America. In high school I studied Mandarin, got myself through AP courses... and yet I still was illiterate from a newspaper standpoint. I could only order off the menu because I knew certain words like "beef" or "fish", or because it was committed from memory of when my parents ordered it.
These days I find myself struggling to speak in Chinese, because I am so out of practice. When I visit my parents, I feel ashamed that I can't speak as frankly with them as I'd like, or tell them everything that's going on in my life. My English is too advanced, and my Chinese too elementary. I think they can sense this too. At the dinner table when the family gathers, it's hardly in our native tongue. I think my parents have accepted this, but it doesn't make it any easier, especially since it's so intrinsically tied to who we are and what we've become.
Am I better for being fully Americanized to the point where I can write a full volumes? No. It just means I can function within my homeland. However, it doesn't make me feel comfortable to know that full assimilation (for lack of a better term) requires me to give up what I am naturally. I only wish that others can see the struggles of what it means to be a hyphenated American.
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| Autumn isn't exactly the time of year when everyone thinks about spending. Nonetheless, a group of us indie designers pushed on and rented a month-long booth an outdoor market in the middle of Manhattan. Tomorrow will be a week since opening, and sales are dismal. Not just us, but everyone else, (although, comparing notes, we're pulling in far above other booths). There's really not much foot traffic. And it's raining today through the weekend.
Granted I knew going in I'm only doing it for exposure's sake, this is the type of thing that makes you think about long-term strategies while plowing through short-term tactics. This is by far the most I've spent on an outdoor market, and I can understand just how easy it is for a small business to fail. A few thousand here, a few thousand there. And next thing you know you're back in heavy debt with nothing to show. Thankfully I am far from that situation. But this venture is making me reexamine my priorities. I need to refocus on where I will get most results.
This market just proves what I call my "coleslaw principle." Each time I go to a diner and someone places coleslaw in front of me, I have to try it, only to prove to myself I don't like it. I guess these ventures are the same way. I have to try it, to make sure I'm not missing out.
So in case you're wondering where this market is, it's in Madison Square Park in Chelsea, and runs daily from 11am-8pm until Nov 1. Our group booth is called NYCraft near 25th & 5th, and everything within is handmade.
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| Lots of pics to go through from vacation. Here's one of my absolute favorites.  Cherry Grove Beach (North Myrtle) at sunrise. | | |
| Finally back from a week long hiatus down in Cherry Grove (a less touristy strip of beach located North of Myrtle Beach). It's funny how different things are outside of NYC, and not all of them good. The beach and beach house, however, were fantastic. I loved being able to walk across the street to the beach whenever I felt like it, whether it was morning, noon or night. Then when I got tired of the beach, I was able to laze out in the back where the pool was. I am now a multitude of different colors from all that sun. (There is no such thing as an even tan.)
Throughout the week, we've been reminded how different looking we are. Silent stares are one thing. Blatant acts are another. A couple of incidents I'm aware of, has made me realize how lucky I am to live in a diverse city. Southern hospitality to some, are only limited to people of a lighter, whiter shade, even now. It seemed like we represented something that was worse than living among the darker skinned, and that is a foreign invasion (even though the majority of us were born in the U.S.) That is not to say this was the case throughout the trip. We did witness plenty of friendly folks who took kindly to us "nice yankees." However, there were still a lot of historical and iconic symbolism in South Carolina, most notably a "Tar Baby Restaurant" and the Confederate flags flying on store fronts. We made light of the entire experience as much as we could.
Taking the week off definitely helped with the unwinding after such a long process of closing and moving. Of course, returning home to an unsettled home isn't fun either. But at least this past weekend we actually got some painting done and got the bed frame up. (We've been sleeping on the mattress on the floor for a week.) Walked over to DeKalb and had a great little brunch, something we can actually do now that we've moved into a more vibrant neighborhood. (I also scouted out the local supermarket, post office, Fedex drop off, bank and laundromat, all within a 5-10 minute walk from home.)
Yesterday I ripped off an old telephone line and spackled the hole, sanded and painted my office area to a dreamy blue. (There's something definitely gratifying about doing handiwork.) This week we're getting the Elfa shelves installed for the closets and for my studio space. I really look forward to that because I have about 10 boxes of inventory that needs a home. Once that's taken care of, this space would look a lot less messier because stuff won't be living in boxes on the floor anymore. The most patientce-testing thing about this is the whole start and stop process. Trying to settle in, while working and running a business isn't exactly the easiest thing to do. Hopefully by the end of the month we'll get enough done so we can host a couple of housewarmings. We'll see how it goes.
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