This is going to be a grassroots victory, and we need everyone’s support. With our small budget, the grant and exposure would do AWS wonders in building upon our programs, community building and direct services.

[Editors note: Connie's post about her experiences as an attendee and a filmmaker have already been blogged about, but after finding the documentary on YouTube, I felt it appropriate to repost her experiences as a filmmaker, but this time with the documentary embedded. Thanks to Connie for her permission.]

To have my film Beautiful Sisters be part of The 32nd Annual Asian American Film Festival was an honor.

It was also extremely nerve wracking.  I can’t help but have my heart beat uncontrollably fast each time I watch the short in front of people, nevertheless, think of all the things I would have done differently. But to see it amongst numerous talented, beautifully composed and moving films, is more than gratifying.

During my senior year in college, I took a film-making class because it sounded like fun and because I had just received the director position for my university’s production of The Vagina Monologues (I thought it’d enhance my “director” skills). Participating in the V-Day movement was phenomenal, and although I was part of such an empowering women’s community about overcoming violence and loving oneself, I still struggled with insecurities about my small eyes. I knew that eyelid surgery to create the look of bigger eyes was a possibility, yet something that I would never undergo myself. But how could I get over such annoying thoughts? At the same time, I learned that my youngest sister, Brittney, was starting to wear make-up to school every day.  What was she thinking? And how could I serve to be a good role model for her?

Wanting to empower young women like myself, I created Beautiful Sisters. In the film, I follow Brittney during her morning routine, interview multiple women — a plastic surgeon, a college student who underwent eyelid surgery, a couple women who oppose the procedure and who feel OK about it. It was a journey for me to learn more about blepharoplasty, as it’s formally known, the varying viewpoints and an avenue to formulate my own opinions and conclusion.

By narrowing on eyelid surgery and personal narratives,  I hoped to continue the conversation on how people perceive and construct ideas about beauty, race and gender identity, and ideally, feel beautiful in their own skin.

This was one story I felt compelled to share. There are much, much more.

This weekend I was reminded of why I want to continue making films.

Watching Witness to Hiroshima in the Museum of Chinese in America, I sat in silence and in awe. Through watercolor paintings, former Japanese soldier Keiji Tsuchiya recounts his experience of providing relief after the 1945 U.S. bombing. He illustrates the colors of radiation and tells of the monotony, frustration and anger of burying thousands of bodies.  In what seems out of place, Tsuchiya describes his life later as a scientist, learning about the horseshoe crab, a species endangered because of the loss of water in their natural habitat.  He remembers that the last words of many Hiroshima victims were begging for water, and suddenly, it is clear why he is committed to saving the lives of horseshoe crabs and preserving the stories of Hiroshima victims,  and in that short and subtle connection of one injustice to another, I was moved.

Witness to Hiroshima was part of the “Here…Look at Me” selection at this year’s 32nd Annual Asian American International Film Festival in New York City. A wide selection of short films captivating stories of individuals, each with complex, humorous and passionate lives including  the dreamy cinematography of Waiting for a Train, which follows the heroic journey of bluegrass musician Toshio Hirano; You Can Call Me Nikkie, which portrays the simplicity of a transgender sex worker whose main goal is to please her family; and Incongruent Body, an experimental animation depicting manipulations of self-image and imperfections, just to name a few.

OASES is out to win the Razoo March Goodness Contest, where you can donate to OASES and help secure a $10,000 grant for their youth.

With your support, your simple $10 dollar donation to OASES could potentially be turned into $10,000 dollars! Their goal is to have over 500 supporters before the March 31 deadline; go to www.oases.org and click on the “March Goodness” donate now button.

Please share this cause with friends and family. OASES thanks you for your support!

I’m not going to lie, I didn’t know any of the artists prior to the event. That’s why I went; to learn more and dance some. And with my press pass in hand, I got the inside scoop.

It was a bit unsettling at first.  Who was the guy in the flashy gold jacket and where did he get all of that energy? Why were the guys in American Apparel clad wearing sunglasses indoors? They must think they’re cool. Oh goodness, how was I going to make my way pass the giant cameraman and not look like an ignorant fool?

I spoke with the creators of the event, the men from Wong Fu Productions, themselves. They’re nice guys, in their 20-somethings, braved the Asian stereotype and pursued their dreams in film. I asked if their parents knew what they were doing. They laughed and said “yeah, but probably not to this degree.” Indeed, it may be difficult to explain two sold out shows.

While in the press room, I couldn’t help but ask: If this is an event about inclusion and appreciation for Asian American artists, where are the women?

I was comforted when I took my seat in the audience, but only for a bit. Jessi Malay was singing a snip-it. Turns out she doing a sing-off with her co-host, who kept stuttering over his words and failing at bad jokes. During one performance, he “locked” his female co-host in the bathroom. I didn’t get it either.

Passion was good. He’s got a sweet voice and I’m a sucker for acoustic guitars, but I was sick of hearing covers. I wanted the OG. I didn’t understand that, especially when Paul Dateh followed with a Jason Mraz flow.  If I wanted to hear covers I could gone to a local bar or just sat in front of my macbook watching youtube.

It got worse. Wong Fu Productions videos came up, and oh, I was so disappointed. A clip from “Up in da club” played– amongst three male heads was one woman, the “cute accountant.” At this point, I found the creators’ work to be very telling of the concert’s production. It’s hard not to be angry because I met the guys and they seemed quite genuine with good intentions, and yet, I can’t help but be critical of their work. ESPECIALLY if their goal is to represent Asian American artists.

There’s so much potential. A dynamic female presence is a start. In the films and throughout the concert including the music from FM and Jin, were images of women on the projector.  Who those women were I have no clue. At one point, Jin does a free style about some Asian women, and he makes a comment to “us.” He says something like, “Ladies, it’s not all about looks. It’s about brains too. Right, guys?”  Hands down, Jin was my favorite artist of the night–for his ability to carry the crowd’s energy and his music, but c’mon. I didn’t want to be reminded that my goal in life is to attract Asian men.

The only women on stage were Jessi Malay and some dancers from Fanny Pak, who were great and also, not Asian. I have no problem with that except that I know so many Asian female dancers who would have loved to be on stage. And if this event was about inclusion for Asian artists, this could have been the perfect venue for them.

I just did another search on the International Secret Agents website and read their mission.. “because we have our own stories, skills and talents that go far beyond the dated stereotypical expectations” and “because we are moving together to accomplish a collective mission.”

ISA was an ambitious feat, and I commend them for that. I just think if we’re going to even attempt to represent a community of artists, cultures and stories, we should at least include half of that community’s population, and not by having them as back-up dancers or objects of desire, but as real agents telling their own stories.

Check out more coverage at Hyphen.

(Flickr photo credit: histacyzou)

In her book, The Vigorous Mind,  Ingrid Cummings advocates for a way to end “mental malnutrition” through kaizen, an ancient Japanese Zen philosophy that advocates taking small steps to accomplish large goals.  I am compelled to take a break before making my second round to the mashed potatoes. Cummings argues that by committing just 20 minutes of concentrated attention per day to a topic of our choice, we can make progress toward braking through mental, emotional and professional boundaries.  By becoming big-picture thinkers, we have the potential to develop a richer, more engaged life.

Take on a hobby. Sounds simple, right? It’s easier said than done. Although we live in a world where we are taught to strive for more, to know more, and to want more, we should do more.  Cummings argues that we should make a healthy habit out of cross-raining our brain. We should reach for breadth over depth, become generalists rather specialists. This is not to devalue the work of people like neurosurgeons, but rather point that neurosurgeons have the potential to expand their world and stimulate their brains by exploring various interests. This is Cummings’ key to staying intellectually sharp and emotionally happy.

While I would like to try every flavor of cake in line, I don’t think I could stomach such a feat. As a student at Cal with two part-time gigs and rent to pay, I wish I had more time to cross-train my brain, take on something creative like cake decorating. I just know I have to train myself to better manage my time and palette.

Follow Ingrid Cummings’ Book Tour here.

Hercules is a top chef with her own restaurant of fine-dining and line of cookware.  Whitney is a corporate lawyer with an Ivy League education and a hidden passion for singing.  Audrey is a schoolteacher and adopted daughter of Texas billionaires.  Over good food and laughs, the three share their stories and struggles, and over a weekend vacation, discover what they want more in life.

Highlighting themes like cultural assimilation, adoption and generational misunderstandings, Off the Menu illustrates some of the complexities and realities of being Asian American.  While Hercules, Whitney and Audrey challenge their parents’ expectations, struggle to climb the corporate ladder and fall in limbo and in love, you are bound to journey with these characters as they delve into the intersections of life — friendship, family, love and happiness.

Off the Menu is a book many can relate to — building courage, pursuing passion and finding oneself. So, what are your favorite chick-lit books?

(Visit Christine’s website and visit her blog! Thanks to TLC Book Tours for asking me to be a part of my very first Blog Tour!)

Follow the rest of Christine Son’s TLC Book Tours TOUR STOPS: