Son's Autobiography

Born on December 25, 1988 in San Jose CA. Originally his parents expected him to come out as a girl, Son came out as a boy. Surprise! Another chapter in hand-me-downs. Blue over pink. A few dollars less every month though it was perhaps another disappointment given the Chau family already had three sons. Budget baby. Instead of spending Christmas in the living room, the Chau's spent their holiday they had been trying to adopt in their calendar in the hospital. Another time to adjust time. Domestic time over “foreign” time. Age distortion. Christian time over Lunar time. Many things to get used to including this new member of the family. The name Son was given to the new baby by the monk the family journeyed with on boats. That name would indeed play a large role in his understanding of self.

I used to think that Son meant simply “paint” so I was quite enthusiastic when it came to painting or drawing. In kindergarten, I vividly remember the numerous times other kids would point out the pun in my name. Son is associated with family, like son and daughter under mother and father. Or even, sun like the big bright yellow ball in the sky. Internalizing such external interpretations of my name, I affirmed my identity by focusing most of my efforts on drawing the sun in those exercises to introduce children to the natural world in order to provoke imagination. White paper. Brown tree (don’t forget the roots). Green Leaves. Green Grass. Blue Sky. Puffy Clouds. Of course, a big yellow sun with radiant orange rays ironically wearing sun glasses. Its own rays were just too bright for itself.

I might have mimicked the popular Coca Cola commercial during that time as well. The sun cannot get hydrated on simply water. It can only get hydrated on Cola, that dark water with syrup and sugar. I would say hello to these images upon every happy meal my mother would reward me with for being a good son… “ngoan.” I loved those cheeseburger happy meals, though those toys did not last long in my imaginative play cycles.

Throughout k-12 education, identity permeated a lot of my thoughts, questions, and curiosities. On first day of school at Schallenberger Elementary School in San Jose, CA, on the outskirts of the Willow Glen community, I remember it was a hard transition from hanging out with my mother all the time, watching television: Power Ranges, Arthur, Scooby Doo, and Popeye. I remember how I felt coming into the classroom with other kids; many who did not look like me, and a few who did. I was reminded that perhaps I was different and many kids reminded me that I was throughout these 12 years.

After kindergarten, from first grade until my last year of high school, I got into many fights with primarily Latino and white students who reminded me of my “alienness.” Puns for my name expanded to racial slurs and cultural denigration by other students. It was not just son and daughter, or sun in the sky anymore. Rather, it was about pointing out the foreignness of my name, questions of why parents did not give me an American name, and how others were uncomfortable of calling me by my name. Perhaps that is why my last name “Chau” has to be included with “Son” for people feel comfortable when calling or referring me. Two syllables. A rhythmic combination. Son Chau! Son Chau! However, even by including my last name, others were tempted to make fun of it because it again was another foreign name. Un-American. Un-American. I became very violent to others and myself when it came to identity or culture. Middle-school was an incredibly hard time for me, especially when other students were still discerning where they belonged. Unlike many who did find their place, I still felt displaced in what I felt was the wrong part of town throughout high school.

By the time I got to high school, I continued to get into fights with other kids during lunch, after school, and sometimes in P.E. in the locker room. I grew very impatient and frustrated with myself and my parents at times. Conflict was apparent in both spheres of school and home. I knew about the other side of town, East Side San Jose in contrast to my side, Central San Jose where Asians, primarily Vietnamese people were the majority. Although this area seemed appealing to me at the time, I soon realized the inequality neighborhoods by reflecting on the similarities and differences of the two sides of town. East Side San Jose was considered the area to which no one wanted to go because of its issues of poverty, violence, and instability.

I am very passionate and enthusiastic about topics of history, philosophy, culture, humanity, and the like. I am a very reflective person who seeks to find meaning in everything in life whether it be material or cognitive. If I had not gone through experiences of racism and alienation in school I perhaps would not be as conscious and critical as I am today. Towards the middle to the end of high school I became heavily involved with community service. Key Club became a means through which I was able to meet new people throughout CA. I researched and read on Civil Rights and Black Power in my leisure time because I felt my struggle against racism was somehow tied to Black struggle for equality and liberation.

In my head phones, I would listen to Hip Hop from the late 80’s and early 90’s my brother would lend me to complement this self- political education with hip hop education via music. I continued to practice dancing, particularly poppin’ as it was something to do during lunch. This was a way to break racial and ethnic boundaries between Asian and Latino students at my school Willow Glen High School. In middle school Willow Glen Middle School, I was an avid and ambitious learner of glowsticking, a dance which involved creating complex patterns with light sticks to electronica.

Now in my fourth year at Berkeley, I constantly look backwards while moving forward. I believe a lot of the things that happened to me and things I helped happen are not coincidental. Instead, it is somehow a linear progression, or at least how I would like to understand it. I grateful for what I have, where I am, especially having the privilege and opportunity to be in Viet Nam participating in EAP Viet Nam, and where I am headed; I hope to go to graduate school and make social change in the classroom in the future though my options are flexible. I am driven heavily by my passions which emerged out of my struggle for identity and belonging and my family’s struggles as refugees: starting from scratch, making something out of literally nothing (at least, physically and financially with exception of governmental assistance).

This coming semester I hope to better understand how the local mirrors the global in terms of political, social, and cultural issues. I hope to learn more about where my family came from and how my own identity or how I choose to identify myself is relevant. I want to challenge my own beliefs whether it is political or philosophical regarding humanity, equality, and democracy. In the states I am all about “the people” and “equality/love for all,” but what does it all mean in a country like Viet Nam with a whole different context of political struggles and strife? I am incredibly intrigued by left-wing and “humanist” ideals, but how does the whole political spectrum play out in so-called socialist states? I hope to challenge myself on various levels in hopes to become a more globally conscious human being.