Dear Mr. Jones,

There is a limit to practicing your right to free speech and at some point, it is better to shut up and keep it to yourself. Such an example is Mr. Jones, the pastor in Florida that wants to burn copies of the Koran on the anniversary of September 11. I think that this man is an absolute idiot, and it makes me shake with anger and frustration that he would endanger the lives of others in order to prove his own point. Watching the news last night, I wished that I could have the ability and power to prevent him from what he’s about to do- talk sense into him, shake him, whatever.


At this point, embassies around the world are on the alert for any violent activity that might occur as a result of this Koran-burning. So are our troops. I’m perfectly fine with people expressing their opinions, but it is when other people are at the risk of getting hurt at that expense when a line needs to be drawn. Mr. Jones, our troops and overseas representatives cannot die to prove your little point- they are already risking their lives to fight this war. Burning Korans will do more harm than good-- terrorists are already blowing up people and buildings without you aggravating the situation even more! There are so many people still hurting from September 11, but outright disrespect for another religion is not going to help solve anything. Unless you are willing to stand at the forefront of your opinions, burning the Korans yourself in front of a mosque in Afghanistan surrounded by Islamic extremists, don’t do it. And don’t you dare make our troops and overseas representatives pay for the consequences of your foolish actions.

emerging adult, or overgrown adolescent? neither.

The New York Times recently published this article discussing the recent emergence of a new category of quasi-adulthood, or "emerging adulthood," which puts the whole (unemployed) college-graduated 20-somethings living at home status under examination. It explains research about how the mind is still developing into its 20s, and how the embodiment of our age group has transformed drastically in the last decade or so. For example, the article states that today's 20-somethings


"reach the milestones [marks of adulthood] completely out of order, advancing professionally before committing to a monogamous relationship, having children young and marrying later, leaving school to go to work and returning to school long after becoming financially secure." 


So we aren't becoming the cookie-cutter adults we're supposed to be as quickly as in the past. (Minus the fact that I didn't need to read 10 pages to find out) But does this really merit a completely new category of psychological development as discussed in the Times? Is the 20-something group so different from the 'real adults' that we need a category of 'emerging adulthood,' which is really just another way of saying an 'overgrown adolescence'? 


I don't think so. 


Yes, there may be proof of continuing brain development in the prefrontal cortex that change as we move closer to achieving or deciding on life paths, but those who endorse a new category of adulthood don't have their bases completely covered. 20-somethings today who choose to move home, marry later, return to school, or do whatever they want as opposed to join the real world, do so because they choose to. Choose is the key word. If necessary, they would have to settle on a path that would lead them to a more stable 'journey' to adulthood. The fact is that today many college graduates don't have to, so they put it off. 


For example, if my parents kicked me out of the house today, forget the castle in the air idea I have of becoming an editor... any odd job that will pay my way will have to do. Maybe I sound like a hypocrite, stating there's no "emerging adulthood" stage when i'm possibly in it, but my point is that in the appropriate situation, I would face reality and grow up. 20-somethings are not incapable of getting a grip on reality and dealing with it. We're old enough to make decisions and deal with the consequences, as people our age have been doing for centuries. 


This "emerging adulthood" (that is emerging primarily in developed nations, by the way) is the product of culture. Its happening whether we like it or not, but my point is that this new 'milestone' in life doesn't necessarily merit its own clinical psychological category. We're programmed to respond to our culture and environment, and here's where it has brought us. Take away any security blanket and see how the normal human reacts-- get a job and move on with life, right? No new brain connection developments needed.

technology of the future

In 5 years, 10 years, 30 years, where do you see technology? Greener, faster, more energy efficient?

free public wi-fi networks.

OLEDs.

affordable living... on the moon.

A machine that's able to xerox cells to create tissue and healthy organs for transplants.

Cleaner burning fuels with no harmful emissions.

Maybe these ideas aren't so creative, but hey, its midterms week and i'm grabbing these off the top of my head.

Anyway, onto the point... while we go at our daily (sometimes mundane) lives, there are people out there who are wrapping their minds around how they could really change the world and make it a better place. They imagine it and work to make it happen. These ideas become a reality, and down the line, transform the ways we think, live, access education, ideas, healthcare... you name it. And I'm really proud to know a group of awesome people who are working to do that exact thing. Presenting...

The grand prize winners of the 2010 Imagine Cup!

Congratulations Wilson, Jason, Helena, and Kayvon!

These four went to Washington D.C. last weekend to compete in the national round of the annual Imagine Cup competition. Their program (hardware and software), MobiLife, won the grand prize for the software development invitational. In layman's terms (i'm no scientist/computer programmer myself), the program enables medical field workers to detect and diagnose diabetes, sickle cell anemia, and hypertension in young children, just from taking a photo of the microcirculation in the eye. The images would be sent to a lab, and the results would then be bounced back. It all sounds so fast and easy... it's amazing how everyday technology like a cameraphone can be turned into a medical diagnostic tool. I really give my friends props for giving life to an idea, and after months and months of working, taking it this far. Good job, guys, and best of luck in the final round (in Poland!) this summer!

So what innovative ideas do you have that could potentially change science, society, and the world? The opportunities are endless!

how do you identify yourself?

photo credit

I was filling out the Census for my family last week, and it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. Identifying myself on paper is not such a black-and-white affair as the census makes it out to be. If I define myself strictly in terms of race, I'm Chinese. But things are never that simple, and that initial question brought on a bunch of other ones about how I identify myself...

Me: In Asia, I'm American. In America, i'm Chinese. But really, I've never been to China, and besides my ability to speak Mandarin, my communication skills are limited to writing my own name. Culturally, I'm accustomed to western ways of dress, eating habits, and even ways of thinking, but some of my values are definitely eastern. But just because I look like I fit in doesn't mean I do; Put me with a group of girls from Taiwan, Hong Kong, or China, and I'll feel as awkward as a cow on rollerskates (and stick out like a sore thumb too). Yes, we're the same racially, but culturally we're a world apart.

Race- noun.
1. a group of persons related by common descent or heredity.
2. an arbitrary classification of modern humans, sometimes, esp. formerly, based on any or a combination of various physical characteristics, as skin color, facial form, or eye shape, and now frequently based on such genetic markers as blood groups.
3. a human population partially isolated reproductively from other populations, whose members share a greater degree of physical and genetic similarity with one another than with other humans.
4. any people united by common history, language, cultural traits, etc.: the Dutch race.

I had this discussion with a close friend too, who is half Hispanic and half Caucasian. What does she identify herself as under the census? "Other," or just the half that you identify with most? When I was filling it out with my parents, I asked my mom what she wanted to put down. She told me she felt she couldn't put down she was Taiwanese, because racially she's not, but then again she was born there. She has mixed feelings towards the U.S. Census commercials on T.V. encouraging people to fill in "Taiwanese"... which is what I usually tell my friends she is because it's just easier that way rather than explaining it all. My grandparents were all from China, so I suppose that makes my entire family Chinese by default... but we are definitely not your quintessential definition of a Chinese family.

After processing this in my mind for all of 3 minutes at the kitchen table, I checked the box for Chinese. In retrospect, I identify myself as American, but a) the census assumes that, right? and b) blood runs thicker than water... at least if you use the definition of race as reference.
c) Realistically, it's not that simple.

spring

my delphiniums!

Nothing says spring like a visit to the garden center-- I went yesterday with my mom, and we picked out some sweet peas too. Seeing all the plants and flowers made me want to transform our backyard into a wonderland of vegetables and flowers. But I finally settled on my choice: delphiniums. Their prettiness won me over.

Which got me thinking-- we don't really have a purpose for flowers. We can dry them for tea and they're used for medicinal purposes, but some are poisonous and others don't even smell very nice. We put them in our gardens for the sole purpose of beauty- isn't that wonderful for such a simple yet complicated organism? It makes me want a garden full of delphiniums, jasmine, azaleas, calla lilies, daffodils, and hydrangeas... then I'd just sit in the grass and admire them.

what? reverse culture shock?

Please beware that this is the obligatory "i'm back and I hate it" post.

early fall- biking in Versailles

Not really.

It's been a month since I've returned, and mostly I just feel like I never left. I mean, what does 4 months abroad have on my 16 years in California?

In my study abroad handbook, there is a warning for returnees:

Can You Survive Reverse Culture Shock?

1. Nobody cares about your travels

2. Normality will hit hard

3. People just won't understand you

4. And some might be jealous

5. Worst of all, you might feel stuck.

Stages of Reverse Culture Shock: disengagement, initial euphoria, irritability and hostility, readjustment and adaptation.

My symptoms: almost nonexistent.

Maybe people were jealous, but for the most part, everything went back to normal.

However, here are some things I did notice:

1. I'm able to live on less- after living out of a suitcase for 4 months, I realize that I really do not need my entire closet to survive. I'm also more careful with my money and how I spend it (even though spending on the dollar is better than spending on the euro)
2. I still have to remind myself that I can go out on Sundays, and no, not everything will be closed.
3. American bread sucks.
4. Cold does not (really) affect me. Tornado warning? When you've walked around Venice in December, cold fingers and wet shoes are nothing.
5. I dress nicer. In Paris, sneakers are not socially accepted unless you are a) running in the park or b) a tourist. I've realized that I'm much more aware of what i'm wearing, and its actually a bit more effortless because i've become so used to dressing like that. My tastes when shopping have also changed a bit- more 'euro' apparently, but I'm not sure. I just go by what I like.
6. No more decorative boots, gloves, and scarves. I find it funny when I see them on people in San Diego. After having to wear them for months for mere survival, I am happy to pull out my flats, tanks, and flip-flops. Because I CAN!
7. California sunsets. Oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples. Much different from the winter sunset in Europe. I like it though...its just so California.
8. A long-distance relationship is easier. We're on the same time zone!
9. I don't like looking at pictures of Paris. Its a little bit painful. But other than that, I'm good.
10. I miss speaking french. I learned so much while I was there, and I know i'm already losing it. If you want to practice, let me know!!
11. I still know my Paris Metro routes. What useless knowledge. If only I could replace it with knowledge of international economic agreements,. That would help so much this quarter.

That's about all I can think of off the top of my head. For the most part, I'm glad to be back. There's no place like home.

little things

Things I missed while I was in Paris/look forward to coming home to (in no specific order):

• friends and family (of course) and the holiday season!
  
• showers that actually work and that are not disgusting
  
• english speaking people
  
• a comfy bed
  
• cupcakes
  
• in n out burgers
  
• good chinese food
  
• the beach
  
• warm weather- sun that actually gives warmth!
  
• Target! and american convenience stores, where things are not so expensive.
  
• space. everything in the city is so compact and cramped.
  
• a complete wardrobe (i've been living out of a suitcase for 4 months here)
  
• no more public transportation! I really don't have a huge problem with it, except when it closes at midnight, and after a tiring day of class when everyone is squished in the metro during rush hour getting all up in your personal space. Talk about claustrophobia.
  
• just being home.
  

I know my list isn't very deep, but sometimes, its the little things in that make home, well, home.

my parisian life

photo credits

I can't believe I'm packed. I'm currently sitting on the bed in my empty room, waiting to go to the airport.

How did these months go by so fast? My time here went from 4 months to a day in a blink of an eye. When I go out, I walk the streets completely aware that it may be the last time I see any of it, for a long, long time. I savor the leaves on the sidewalk, my walk to the market, the smell of the hallways in my building. As much as I've missed life back home, and I'm really looking forward to going back, don't get me wrong, a little part of me is sad to be leaving. 

I'm really going to miss this place. I know that very soon, I'm going to be caught up with life back in San Diego, applying to a new job or grad school, and Paris is going to seem like a distant dream. That makes me a little bit sad. I'll have the memories and the photographs, but it won't be the same. Standing under the Eiffel Tower is thrilling every single time no matter how many times I've done it, and looking at a photograph just doesn't do it justice. The same goes for Notre Dame, and the Louvre. 

In the course of my 4 months here, Paris became home. I have the route I take to class, the market I go to, the boulangerie I like to stop at after class. I even have my favorite staircase at the Louvre. I have my list of 'bests'- the best bread in Paris (the market around the corner), best tarte au citron (eric kayser), best crepes (le petit grec), best falafel (the marais). I know the metro routes I frequent like the back of my hand. I've seen the Luxembourg gardens in the fresh green of summer, the changing leaves of fall, and the snow covered branches of winter. 

Somewhere in the middle of getting lost on the way home from class and the whirlwind of final exams, I stopped being a tourist, and began to live in Paris. 

I stopped worrying about seeing all the things I wanted to see, because I had seen them all. I stopped noticing the differences between life in Paris and life back in California. Life in Paris wasn't so different from back home- I had class, ran errands, met up with friends- it just took place in the backdrop of the Pantheon, Eiffel Tower, and Montmartre. My life here became the norm, a home base that I looked forward to coming back to after my excursions. After all, home is something you always come back to, right? And I have a hunch that from now on, Paris is one of them. 

thoughts

Parc Montsouris, across from my building

I'm 21. After years of looking forward to the day I would finally become an independent adult (18 did not count- I still felt like an awkward teenager), I'm at an age that, in American culture, is the embodiment of fearlessness, confidence, and carefree optimism. 

The equation is engraved in my head after countless lectures by parents, teachers, and all educational institutions I've attended, and it is as follows:  

I'm young.

I'm educated. 

I have a solid moral foundation 

I'm unattached by responsibility. 

So naturally, I have the world at my fingertips. 

They make it sound so easy. No one mentions the oppressive, almost suffocating sense of success that you are expected to reach (although I might also set this up for myself). Failing is not an option. Amidst all my planning- for the GREs, grad school, careers options I could consider- it is easy to do and almost dangerous to stop, because the moment I pause to analyze what I'm doing, it's scary. 

I realize that my future is a blank slate, and I love it. Its the great thing about being 21. There is no set path, no ruts. But it's mapping out my future and pinpointing what I need to do in order to get there that makes me anxious. Entering college, my goal was simple: decide on a major, and graduate, then its happily ever after. Four years later, life has gotten far more complicated- I'm essentially creating a rough blueprint of my professional goals to follow. Ideally, I won't have to readjust and all will go smoothly according to plan, but I'm not stupid. Life just does not work out that way. And the possibility- no, fact - that it won't work out the way I picture is intimidating.    

I wonder how I'll answer these questions when I'm 30? 40? 60?

Did I take advantage of all the opportunities that were out there?

Am I where I always imagined myself to be, or at least going towards achieving those goals? 

What in life is the most meaningful to me? 

How do I define myself at this point in my life? My work? My family? 

How can I make my life more fulfilling? 

What alternate lifestyles could I be living? For example, working as a photojournalist for National Geographic in the Amazon. Or being a pastry chef in Paris. And would I sacrifice what I have now to do it? 

And I'm sincerely wondering,  

Are you living your life the way you'd imagined?