Trump Effect

* Warning: another political rant post ahead *

The last six months since the election have been pretty rough. The daily (or near-daily) adrenaline/outrage and sadness/frustration that comes with seeing a toddler (which actually is an affront to my intelligent, empathetic two-and-a-half-year-old) tyrant in office direct unconstitutional, harmful, and just plain cruel policy decisions has brought me close to losing all hope and from worrying about my own mental and physical health. But this is intended to be a (somewhat) positive post.  While I am not sure I'll ever understand why God planned the election to have this outcome, as I feel so much more good for humanity would have come from the alternative and I feel betrayed by he hypocritical political positions and behavior of "evangelicals" who I feel have weaponized Christianity, I know I need to "Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding" (Proverbs 3:5). While I wouldn't like to label it "finding a silver lining" in the disastrous presidential term to date, I will mention the few positives, or "opportunities" that 45 being elected has created for me.

Dealing with disappointment

I cannot remember any time in my lifetime that I have been more disappointed and inconsolable than the night of (and wee morning hours after) the 2016 presidential election. While I have definitely felt emotional anguish in the past-- I remember being distraught at losing my dear grandfather when I was in high school, and I have shed my tears over past (romantic) relationships in the past that have ended not on my (or good) terms, nothing has come close to the sense of grief and despair I felt on November 9th, waking up to the reality that was the leadership of our country.  While the acute pain has faded, it is there when I wake up, many times throughout the day, clawing at my consciousness and making me, at times, want to crawl into a hole, and at others, stand up and fight (and even, like Martin Luther King, Jr. and other martyrs, die for my beliefs). I now feel that I can handle any sort of defeat and disappointment that happens in life, as nothing (not deaths, not divorce, not a job loss) can compare to the grief that accompanies a loss of faith in the goodness of humanity, which is what this election snatched from me. While I have been extremely blessed in that I have not suffered many personal or physical harms in my lifetime and that, for many, Trump-as-president and immoral Republicans in charge of the country are far from the most devastating things that could happen in their world, it has been world-shattering for me and I am not sure I will ever be the same.

Political engagement, woke out of complacency

I am very guilty of having ignored the news and politics for the better of eight years, with Barack Obama in charge, as I can't imagine a leader who shared my ideological positions more closely, who I trusted completely to do the right thing (although he isn't perfect), and who led with such grace and character.  In recent months, I have learned so much about the obstructionist tactics the Tea Party and right-wingers pulled during his administration, from blocking legislation strictly on partisan grounds, to refusing to hold hearings for his very qualified Supreme Court appointee, Merrick Garland, whose denial will undoubtedly alter the nature and fairness of our country's jurisprudence for decades because of the ultra-conservative arrogant man now appointed to his stolen seat.

Republicans have voter-suppressed and also gerrymandered their way into holding the majority of state legislature and congressional seats, with the result that minority conservative views now hold majority power in this county. While I have always voted in presidential elections, I have taken state and local elections less seriously, but I know now to never let any election pass without my vote (and urge other progressives to do so, because if liberals turned out like Republicans do in presidential, as well as midterm and smaller elections, the country would be ours). The stakes (i.e. people like Donald Trump/Mike Pence, Mitch McConnell, and Paul Ryan getting elected) are JUST TOO HIGH.  I have followed Flippable.org, and donated money to political campaigns of people to unseat Republican congresspeople and governors in other states, because I feel that it would make our country so much better to see the ideals of California blue extend from coast to coast and from North all of the way to the Deep South.

Before this year, I had never written to nor called a congressperson or Senator or governor in my state (and many years, probably couldn't name my representatives), but now they all probably think, "I'm hearing from her again?" Whereas I have never before been considered outspokenly "political," to say I now "follow" politics is an understatement. I now obsess over it. Because I will do everything in my power to listen, learn, talk, teach, do, and vote, so that, for as long as I shall live, I will never again have to endure (or be shocked by) seeing a monster like Donald Trump ascend to the highest office in our land to exert his type of malignant power.

I realize that I may lose conservative-leaning friends or acquaintances along the way because of my outspoken views, which have only been strengthened by what I am seeing from the party in power, but I have never felt more strongly about anything in my lifetime (I bet dissenting against genocidal Nazi views cost some people relationships, too), and, I feel that you cannot go wrong when you stand up for what is right and just (see Giving Thanks for the Bridges I've Burned this year, written by a eloquent pastor I follow, John Pavlovitz, which captures nearly perfectly how I feel). In the end, only God will be the judge of us (and I am quite sure that there is a special place in Hell waiting for Mitch McConnell and Donald Trump).  

 Social Justice Commitment

I have posted before on how open my eyes are now on the issues of race and discrimination in our county. I have read many books regarding our country's troubled history of racism (perpetuated by our criminal justice system), as well as learned about more recent psychological studies about how implicit bias still shapes how children and people of color are treated. The devastating verdicts exonerating culpable officers in shootings like that of Philando Castile (the videos, including that of the little girl in his car at the time of the murder are heartbreaking) and of Trayvon Martin, have made me hyperaware of the injustices amidst our "laws" and the lack of equal protection as mandated by our Constitution.  I am more committed now than I have ever been to changing some of the systemic and educational barriers to equal treatment and opportunity. I even considered changing my career, to make more of a difference (although I realize that, as as a physician, I have tools and some power to help eliminate health disparities and outcomes, particularly in underserved communities. I have considered additional family planning training due to the very real threat of closing contraception and abortion clinics. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. himself said, "Of all the forms of inequality, injustice in health care is the most shocking and inhumane.").

While I don't see myself doing so, or encouraging my liberal, open-minded friends to move to Alabama or Mississippi to try to infiltrate the deep red psyche of those states, which, electorally speaking, makes the most sense if we're trying to change this country over generations, I am desperate to do what I can to make America less racist than it clearly still is.   I wish everyone (particularly whites, even those who don't think of themselves as racist) in this country, particularly those in southern states, could watch the documentary "13th" and the footage of the attacks on black lives, and justify to me that we are a post-racial country. I hope minds can and will be changed.

I am also incredibly vocal and passionate about women's rights, including for equal pay for equal work, equal roles in childrearing, and now my causes for my financial support include (which, in the age of Trump, more important than ever) Planned Parenthood, the Sierra Club, ACLU, the Equal Justice Initiative, and scholarships for minorities at my alma mater.  If you are feeling powerless to change the vibe and voting practices of the country, because you live in a progressive state or bubble like California with a trifecta of (Democratic) governors and Senators already on your side, but you can spare the change, consider donating your money to such causes, or to other states' progressive candidates' campaigns. I hope we will reap the harvest of what we sow, someday (soon).

Listening

I know I have done a lot of ranting on this blog. Politics is constantly on my mind and if you can "ignore it" in these times, then your privilege is showing. I am not someone "in the middle" who is likely to ever vote for a conservative or Republican, although I am willing to listen to arguments (which I'd hope are based in facts). I'm not sure that "agreeing to disagree" is a very worthy middle, as it's hard for me to see how I could convince you to care about others if your actions and politics suggest otherwise. I am not sure I know anyone well who will admit to voting for Trump (who might already realize that divulging such an action may mean that our relationship may be irreparable or in serious danger). However, I am open to listening.  I can't bring myself to watch Fox News, but I listen to some conservative opinions on a talk show Left, Right, and Center, which discusses the news among a slew of viewpoints, and I listened (uncomfortably) to Trump-supporters speak their minds on policies and solutions at a recent rally.  I think that listening and "hearing" the other side is important (with the hope, but not the expectation, that views may change) and I am open to conversation. Just like I do a lot of talking to my vaccine-refusing or vaccine-skeptical parents about their positions on issues, to try to find out why they think the things they think (and then try to use position to show how the evidence suggests their fears are unfounded), I try not to "write them off" as lost causes but hope that, with time and support and encouragement, they will adjust their position and decision to the one that has been shown to improve outcomes and possibly save their child's life (and that of others. Because there are beliefs, and there are facts, and then there are lies). I hope this also for anyone on the other end of the political spectrum, although when even basic truths are up for debate, it's hard to know where to start.

Family size

I wasn't sure if we would have more kids. I remember thinking, after the election, "I don't think I want to bring another child into this world, a disgusting, racist, hopeless country where a man like this, a sexual predator, with his values, can be elected president" (or fear that, despite however we raised a child, he or she could turn into someone as hateful and malignant as Trump, Pence or one of their amoral cronies). I also feared for the livelihood for our planet, which seems to not be a priority to the current administration, with the idea of putting another person on it and its carbon footprint. Now I feel a bit differently. I think that, if right wingers who want to ban or prevent coverage for contraception (or abortion) while similarly cutting health care coverage for those that need it most (who may become pregnant as a result of their draconian policies) are having multiple babies who they are inculcating with Fox or religious extremist propaganda, then I would encourage more liberal, open-minded people to reproduce to balance them out, and I want to be one of those people. I would love someday to raise a feminist daughter who knows that from a young age, she could (barring the catastrophes that happened in 2016) be president of this country, or any other profession of her choosing. However, I think it's even more important to be a role model for my son so that he will grow up in a world where he will treat women and people of different faiths, races (see: how to raise race-conscious children) and backgrounds as equals, with respect, and so he may lead future generations.

Fair Friends

We took Iver to the Redwood Acres Fairgrounds for the "Best of Humboldt" fair on Saturday and saw many critters.

At first, he was scared to touch the boas, but then got up the nerve! 

There were turtles... 

 

... and lizards...

... and birds. 

The parrots were trained to pick up a bill of money from your hand.

We visited the barn, with chickens, bunnies, goats, and cows.

There was even a shark show with nurse sharks!

Iver couldn't wait to "ride the horsey."

 

It was a lovely, summer "the best of Humboldt" day! 

Father/son time

A good and selfless father is one who is willing to be on 2.5-day "daddy duty" at the start of Father's Day weekend so I could attend a perinatal CME conference (first "live" CME since becoming a mom) in San Francisco!  This past weekend, Iver and Kelvin had fun times shopping, at a bounce house, and at the CA Academy of Sciences/Aquarium, while I sat in a too-air conditioned, wi-fi-less room learning about "too long" second stages of labor, and management of IUGR.  We all got quality time with the Lees, who again graciously hosted us at their Oakland Hotel Balboa, and enjoyed a homemade sushi dinner with residency friends Serena/Brad, Alvin, and Lily on Saturday.

Iver and papa share a love of wings and frozen yogurt.

In the ball pit!

 

Aquarium magic

snail-making

 

 

Hanging out with the Lees is always great.

 

Mason and Sophia have surely two of the best parents around who have taught us a lot about how to raise kind, calm, respectful children (although ours is arguably never calm). 

 

Father's Day brought picking up Kelvin's parents from San Jose to bring them up here for the week. 

 

Happy (belated) Father's Day to ong Khao, and to my own father, who I have come to respect only more the older (and farther into the throes of parenthood) I get.

While in this house, we rarely do gifts or big celebrations for birthdays and "holidays" like Father's Day, I am so grateful that Iver has such a dedicated, committed father who totally "leans in" to fatherhood and does more than his fair share of "childrearing," for even the less-than-fun duties. We have both had great examples of fathers. If only all of the children in the world could have such role models, we would all be better off.

In defense of Loving (Loving Day)

This June 12th ("Loving Day") is the 50th anniversary of the date in 1967 on which the Supreme Court of the United States struck down a Virginia statue (and thus made unconstitutional other states' statutes) barring interracial marriage, and thus recognized the union between (white) Richard Loving and his (black) wife, Mildred (née) Jeter, allowing them to return to their home state (and my former home state) to raise their beautiful, biracial family. I am eager to read more about the Lovings' life, relationship, and very personal search for fair treatment under the law in Sheryll Cashin's Loving: Interracial Intimacy and the Threat to White Supremacy, which is on my Amazon to-read list, but watched the recent film Loving (starring Joel Edgerton and Ruth Negga) earlier this year. If you are, like I am, an advocate for love in all forms and justice, you will find a lot of hope in this (their) story.  If you are not, then you probably should not read any further.

While I have honestly never thought much about my race(s) before this crazy political year (I used to think I was colorblind), I now see race in everything (now, color is all I see).   I am not aware that I have been a target of racial slurs or race-based discrimination in my past (thankfully), and I believe I have taken my acceptance as a brown person into American society for granted, now knowing (or being acutely aware of) what has been unequivocally expressed by a large part of our country.  I am the biracial product of an Indian mother and a white, midwesterner father (whose union was quite unusual for 1970s Minnesota, or South India, for that matter).  Then, after dating exclusively (but unintentionally) white boys and men, I fell in love with and married into a Vietnamese family and am, according to the Pew Research Center, one of about 17% newly married Americans who is in a mixed-race marriage (to give some context, this figure was 3% in 1967).

I truly believe that my multiracial family and multiracial (3/4 Asian) son represents the physical and emotional beauty that is possible when people of different races meet, and are allowed to intermarry and reproduce (and it is incredibly sad to me that in many regions of the country, many people may not ever have the opportunity to form a relationship, even a friendship or work relationship, with someone of another race, and I believe this strongly drives their race-related and political beliefs. If I were born a couple of generations previously, I (and other biracal people) may have been considered a criminal in many (largely Southern) states (and countries-- if you haven't, please also read Trevor Noah's Born a Crime about growing up amidst Apartheid in South Africa). 

Of course, being in multiracial relationships and "mash-up" families comes with challenges. It is tricky to encourage and want your son to understand and learn to the language of his dad's family, while not being able to speak it yourself. I feel guilty at times (given that Kelvin's parents and siblings are all in same-race relationships) that I'm "diluting" the Vietnamese out of his bloodline.  It's challenging to have multiple, important lines of heritage that you want to honor with traditions (including those of marriage and religion), as well as to reconcile different cultural philosophies of child-rearing.

The election of the current racist President, and the nationalistic, white-supremacist views of members of his administration (as well as the legitimacy and voice this has given to true-and-true racists) makes many of us feel disheartened that we've taken a huge step back with respects to social progress and racial justice (among other things).  And, despite the Loving decision that, 50 years ago, rendered anti-miscegenation laws unconstitutional, many states (including Alabama) kept and tried to enforce bans on interracial marriage until 2000, and almost half (!) of Mississippi Republican voters, as late as 2011, thought that interracial marriage should still be illegal. This is, in part, why I am so still so appalled by the beliefs and actions of some voters and citizens in deep south and other red states.  Nevertheless, we live in a country where Whites, particularly in the name of "Christian" morality, slaughtered Native Americans, enslaved Africans, segregated schools, performed public lynchings, prohibited Blacks (and women) from voting until this century, and barred people in love from marrying, solely because of their race at birth [or their sexual orientation]. Now we generally don't, so it's obvious that we have moved leaps and bounds in the right direction.  This gives me hope amidst these dark times.

And until a "white America first" person can explain to me why a child that looks like mine does not deserve to exist because racial mixing (or other "nontraditional marriage," for that matter) somehow threatens their existence, their marriage, their faith, their job, or their concept of morality, I will continue to fight the battles to stay on the progressive side of history, fairness, and what is right and just.  Happy "Loving" Day.  May we all be able to live, and love, freely.

Pony Express Days

The slogan of our town, McKinleyville, is "Where horses have the right of way." It's not often, but it's not unusual in this area to see horses walking down the street (or sidewalk).

On Saturday, we participated in our first Pony Express Days festival (a town festival that has been going on since 1968). We joined Kellie, Mark, and Lincoln (and Nina/Matt/Ben) to watch the parade down Central Avenue.

In Pierson Park, Iver enjoyed checking out the Coast Guard helicopter.

He also has gotten over his fear of horse-riding and took a couple of loops around the pen on this pony!

The Longest Shortest Time

"The Longest Shortest Time" is the name of one of my latest favorite Podcasts (to read about my fairly recent Podcast obsession, view this blog post).  It (hosted by Hilary Frank) talks about parenting issues and philosophies,  and is just so very informative, charming, and thoughtful.
I love the title, and its sentiment is also captured by the above quote.


I know I have expressed on multiple occasions, how much of a humbling, frustrating, struggle parenthood has been for me.  The continuous sleep deprivation and battles of the wills with an incredibly intelligent, but strong-willed and yes, manipulative child, made me irritable, stressed, frustrated, and yes, even despairing, for the majority of the last two-plus years (and made me question, many times, why I got myself into this).


I am, so thankfully, coming out of that fog. Our little two-and-a-half-year-old munchkin is sleeping consistently ~9-9.5 hours through the night, as well as past 5 a.m. (!) for the last month (a pattern which even was sustained during our recent travel, which was amazing-- often our trips bring setbacks).  It is so incredibly amazing to feel "rested" in the morning, instead of reaching for the coffee (for which I have developed quite an addiction) at 4:55 a.m. He still naps (they are much less of a fight), giving us a fairly consistent break from his "penetrating intensity."


He still has his share of tantrums (fridge-kicking as part of a tantrum of not letting him stand in the fridge was his latest stunt this week), but he is so communicative and perceptive, that accepting the consequences of his choices makes sense to him, and discipline is so much easier than the "awful ones." (When he didn't stop kicking the fridge when asked, and when told that he would, as a result, forfeit his special fruit pouch for school, he completely understood. Then, the next day he said "I get fruit pouch today because I no kick the fridge."). HE'S TWO!

He is learning a lot of Vietnamese words and uses them in his jokes, to which he cackles. He mispronounces words or adds consonants to get a rise out of us.  He loves stories, nursery rhymes (Baa, Baa Black Sheep is his current favorite), and songs (he busts out his baby guitar to sing to us).

He is so kind and empathetic. He says "Sorry, mama (or papa)!" when he spills milk or drops something, and "Thank you, mama (or papa)" frequently.  He loves to have us cuddle him in bed and constantly wants to be held/carried even though, at 2.5 and still around the 3% for weight at around 24 lbs, he's getting heavy for me and my back. 


While going into parenthood, I knew that I wasn't a particularly baby/toddler-loving "maternal" type of person (more of an "ambivalent" parent, if you will) and I don't think that, at any point in the last two years, I could say that I've loved parenting him or being a mom, now I see why people can consider having more than one...


Right now, while I really don't miss the days of infancy and one-year-old irrational tantrums, and much prefer parenting an older, verbal and rational child, I do realize that older children bring their own challenges. This is surely the "longest, shortest time" and maybe, one day, I will feel that it went by disappointingly quickly.




Here are some snaps and videos of our incredible little toddler.

one of my favorites (from our recent Portland trip). 

Tall tower builder!

Batter up!

Going to work" (in true "green" California fashion, of course!)