Boxed Memories

Growing up Asian American and as a female is always a constant struggle for me.

Raised by traditional parents, whereas brainwashing is the norm.

Expectations of the ideal good and obedient daughter was the usual in my family.

I had to embrace my Chinese and Vietnamese ancestral heritage, while adopting to the American culture.

My life struggles and happiness, I lived to tell them now.

My sad and negative memories, I learned to box them up and label it “BAD.”

My good and positive memories, I also learned to box them up and label it “GOOD.”

I called these, “Boxed Memories” that is now currently in a storage place inside my brain.

Sometimes my heart will conjure up emotions to open these boxes when life situations become a stimulus.

My “Boxed Memories” are mine’s to keep and to unbox.

By Jazzmin S. Lu

I Am Not My Mother’s Daughter

Mama, sorry to disappoint you…I could not be the daughter you want me to be. I know you want me to walk a path of a well behaved traditional daughter, but I have untamed liberal thoughts spinning in my head; round and round. Who should I be? I could only be “me”. A daughter that have her own thoughts and American dreams. I have a similar face, hair color, eyes and mouth just like my mother; but still I am not my mother’s daughter. See the real me, deep inside my soul: an outspoken, creative, passionate, optimistic Asian girl with the best assimilation of Asian and American culture.

By  Jazzmin S. Lu

Dedication and Acknowledgment:

To my mother, whom I dearly love and admire with her sparkly personality that always warmed my heart. Without her struggle and sacrifice, I wouldn’t  be the woman I am today.

Also, I want to acknowledge all the immigrant mothers out there, that made a difference in the lives of their daughters: teaching them the importance of heritage, self-identity, self-love, resilience, and perseverance to break the glass door to achieve their dreams.