Photograph: Horst Faas/AP Today, Hongkong is on fire. From afar I see students fighting for things that matter to them: justice, home, ways of life and each other. It is as if I am witnessing my history reverberating itself. During the colonial era, students and intellectuals in the North organized people within the oppressed people within the country and around the world to find ways to overthrow the French and create a more just and equal society. Back in the war, students of South Vietnam were protesting and fighting against religious discrimination and authoritarian. They, too, were in the streets, with their altars against tanks, with hearts against hatred, with their flesh literally ablaze in fire of their own will. Some other people left behind their city lives to live and fight in the juggles, sometimes for up to ten or fifteen years without seeing their family. No matter what paths they took, people stood up to protect justice, for peace, and a world they believed in. There were victories and there were losses, and I stand with my head held high today because of both. Yesterday people fought in the streets, in battlefields, and on the high sea, so today I can stay in school. My ancestors have crossed hell and heaven for my life, for our lives to be possible. And as I came to know the stories of my story, I left feeling guilty and confused. From deep within, I don't know if I am truly living. Frankly I feel like a coward, and a walking dead, without a purpose to my life, but reaping the benefits and privilege possible because of the fights of the past. I felt a deep despair when I knew that the way I was living my life--ignorance, detached and indifference--was not worthy of the sacrifices that were made for me. And thus, I asked myself: what are my responsibilities? To the past and the future? How can I help my country prepare for the catastrophe of climate change and Chinese Imperialism that is already happening? I don't know if I am alone among my Vietnamese peers in asking these questions, but it sure does feel lonely most of the time. I go to school to convince myself that I am getting the tools I need to do the work I needed to do, but it's hard to do so when the world is on fire. I feel as if the more theories and intellectual arguments I consume, the further away I feel from home, from my people, and from the truth. And at the end of the day, I left to ask myself: what kind of tools do I really need? When what I need to learn most is courage. Tonight seeing the escalation of violence at its apex in Hongkong, my heart is twisted. I want to stand with them and fight with them. I would because the things they are fighting for are precious. Home gives our frail lives meaning. Home is where we can be fully human in the ways we know how. At its core, to protect home is to protect our memories, truth, and humanity. The battle against imperialism (Chinese or American) was never really over. For the most powerful authoritarian in the world, its prey now are Hongkong, Tibet and the Uighurs. Next, it will be Taiwan and Vietnam. Our liberation and peace were never separated. We are kin in our struggle for self-determination and freedom, and we must stand up, out and in with our brothers and sisters in our own ways. And when that fateful and catastrophic day would again, befall upon my country, I too, would protect my home from China or Climate Change, or both, in the best way I know how. Photograph: AP When I see people who are sixteen, seventeen, or eighteen putting their lives on the line, I feel a deep sadness when I see no victory in sight, as if the battle for justice is never-ending. But maybe that is the point. We keep on fighting despite the result, so we can tell our children and grandchildren later on we’ve showed up when history demanded, and that we did not give up without a good fight. We’ve let our human conscience guided the way, and that is a victory in itself. That is the legacy that will live on as the battle for justice continues to unfold generations to come. When I see my comrades from afar willing to die to follow their heart, I feel heartened and I feel proud. And more than that, I feel as if my soul strengthened. Seeing them fight courageously makes me want to be braver. I hope when the time come for me, I can be as brave and fight my fight with every fiber of my being. I hope I can die knowing that I’ve fulfilled my destiny and played my part in history, however small, however fleeting. And if fate permits, I hope I can raise my students to be just as morally courageous as them. These are my promises to myself, so this little life can be worthy of my ancestors' sacrifices and trust. A monk once asked me: what makes your heart beat? I didn't know then, but i do know now. It is the fire and grief raging across the world. It is justice, love and self-determination. It is people who are holding their head up high for what's right and just. It is freedom on the other side of the struggle. Everybody has their own battle, their own frontline. Just because we are living in temporal peace now doesn't mean we should be complacent. Our comrades in Hongkong are fighting on their frontline, and i think the best way to be with them other than aiding their agendas or raising awareness, is to fight our own frontline. Our frontlines can be healing our trauma, loving ourselves, teaching students, helping to free activists, etc. We might not now what our frontline is, and I think that is ok. I must admit I am still searching for mine as a Queer Vietnamese-American Buddhist, and part of that is letting the frontline chooses me. In the meantime I will continue to ask questions and surrender myself to the answers, while keeping in mind this piece of wisdom from the Tamud: "Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it." And thus, tonight, and every night to come, I shall ask myself: What am I willing to die for? What is my frontline? What have I done today to be of meaning, or worthiness? How can I lead my life in a way that honors my ancestors and comrades? I will not let go of these questions, and I pray that these questions will not let go of me. Hongkong, you’ve put up a good fight. History will remember. We will remember. I will remember. The fight is not over nor will it ever be over. May our lives be prayers of remembrance for the sacrifices of the past, present and future. For now and for all time, may our lives be prayers for love, truth and justice. My Vietnamese brothers and sisters, what are you willing to die for? what is your frontline?
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intro8/1/19 ~ 8/10/19 archives
November 2019
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