<div>For the past several decades, San Francisco-born poet, playwright, and performer <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/genny-lim" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Genny Lim</a> has facilitated classes for Asian diaspora, helping them to discover writing as a tool for healing and liberation. Classes have brought together intergenerational communities to transmute collective wounds such as Japanese incarceration, immigration, war, patriarchy, racism, anti-Asian violence, as well as celebrate ancestral cultural wisdom.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>We are fundraising to create an anthology that will showcase our  varied stories. From gender diverse healers and activists in their 30s-50s to elders in their 90s, we prove that Asian Americans are not monolithic. Together, we are weaving threads to create a tapestry of who we are and how we choose to be seen.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>The intention of this anthology is to uplift Asian diaspora voices and stories. Spaces for intergenerational communal healing and reflection are sorely needed amidst a profound time of change in our collective history. We have raised our goal to $10,000 to cover costs in producing a draft copy of the anthology. Expenses include drafting submission requirements; soliciting, selecting, and editing pieces for the anthology; book jacket design, and other ancillary costs. This money will be used to pay Genny as well as students Vickie Chang and Tiff Lin for their time in preparing the anthology and fundraising. Asian Pacific Islander Cultural Center (APICC) in San Francisco, has generously agreed to publish the anthology.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>The additional $5,000 (from our initial $5,000 goal) will allow us to hire a copy editor, compensate those putting together the anthology at a more reasonable rate, pay APICC for their support, as well as aim for a more professional product.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>*******
</div>
<div>2/12 YEAR OF THE WOOD DRAGON ASTROLOGY TALK with <a href="https://evergreentaiji.com" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Sally Chang</a>, <a href="https://lizhen.space" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">LiZhen Wang</a>, and <a href="https://www.tiffanylin.co" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Tiff Lin</a> (moderated by <a href="https://www.vickiechangphd.com" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Xiao Rong Chang</a>)
</div>
<div><br />
</div><iframe media_type="0" media_id="goujYzU8wnI" class="youtube-replace" title="YouTube video player" style="margin-bottom:20px;width:560px;height:315px;" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/goujYzU8wnI/?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen="1"></iframe>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>*******
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>1/20/24 TEANCE FINE TEAS LIVE READING
</div>
<div>Thank you to those who've helped us raise a total of $1181 from our first Live Reading event at Teance Fine Teas on 1/20!
</div>
<div><br />
</div><img alt="" media_type="3" src="https://d2g8igdw686xgo.cloudfront.net/76002207_1707364421325622_r.jpeg" width="100%" />
<div><br />
</div>
<div><a href="https://www.youtube.com/live/_4th3ZyoAes?si=xoi2VJyxbGO-sp6d" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">Video of class reading 2022</a>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>Excerpts:</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Leslie Yee-Murata</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>a thief of time
</div>
<div>that one is
</div>
<div>my shadow self
</div>
<div>ever lurking
</div>
<div>in the dungeons
</div>
<div>of my mind
</div>
<div>razor-sharp talons
</div>
<div>shred open my heart
</div>
<div>feeding on my real and
</div>
<div>imagined fears
</div>
<div>thirsting for my anguished tears
</div>
<div>yet these depths of despair
</div>
<div>vanish as suddenly as it came
</div>
<div>has disappeared
</div>
<div>ever vigilant to reappear
</div>
<div>to steal my joy
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>--
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Sapho Flor, “Mama Bayabas”</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Mama Bayabas
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>My favorite guava tree in our backyard was a little taller than my 6 year old self,
</div>
<div>each year growing as I did.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Her fruits would start as small green bulbs with tiny eyes at the tip,
</div>
<div>the petals hardening into eyelids.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Sometimes I couldn’t wait to taste her brightness.
</div>
<div>Impatience chewed on sour,
</div>
<div>waxy
</div>
<div>starchy skin.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Finally the green turned golden,
</div>
<div>the hard
</div>
<div>shell softened.
</div>
<div>Each pink bite melted
</div>
<div>with sparks of seeds.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Her love is tart and sweet.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>I later discovered on a visit to the motherland
</div>
<div>That her leaves, when boiled in water
</div>
<div>Is a balm to itchy skin.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Tita would gather a pile of her leaves and boil them down,
</div>
<div>I’d use the the medicinal water to rinse my raw body
</div>
<div>Biten by mosquitos
</div>
<div>Gently feeling soothed by her hands.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Her love is healing.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>--
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Vickie Chang</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>A wall of daffodils
</div>
<div>And a roomful of friends
</div>
<div>We greet before nestling
</div>
<div>On the same side of a booth
</div>
<div>Tears stream down my rounded cheeks
</div>
<div>And unable to raise my eyes
</div>
<div>The words drop from my red mouth
</div>
<div>It was a high cost for freedom
</div>
<div>Losing you, old friend
</div>
<div>I awaken with a start
</div>
<div>Full of grief
</div>
<div>Full of love
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>--
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Danni Tsuboi</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Inside-out flowers
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Two meat slabs stuck to the walls of heaven
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>They are sliding down slowly -a race back to earth
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>leaving slime (en)trails behind them -
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>The path back home
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>(what about) Do you ever miss your placenta?
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>[She] knew your face before your birth giver before air
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Suspended together in the dreams of your ancestors
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>You waited she watched your holes form sealed with red black water
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>you thought you would never be alone
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>after falling after the holes rip open and life pours in and out. Something about belonging. About what none of us can see or foresee and about forever wanting to go back home
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>This morning I stuck a needle deep into the (hairy) white butt of a loved one. I pushed progesterone into the muscle and watched its satin ribbons curl up and around the fetal cells collecting and organizing into two meat slabs, beginning their journey back to earth
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Dear baby your face is all of time collapsing, is death, is home, is a bridge, is the wet wheel turning
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>is
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Wet inside-out flowers waiting to unfurl
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>The figs are late to ripen this year
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Oh to be a wasp incubated in that sweet death womb.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Waiting to be eaten.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>waiting to go back home.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>--
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Leon Sun, "Solitude"</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Two pines stand resolute in the mist
</div>
<div>Wind carries the cry of a lone hawk
</div>
<div>Cold stream washes over my tired feet
</div>
<div>Calloused and cut from traversing roads
</div>
<div>Strewn with the debris of ignorance and corruption
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Dewdrops dabble my furrowed brow
</div>
<div>Like glistening gashes in
</div>
<div>Mountainsides ten thousand years old
</div>
<div>I have walked a hundred lifetimes
</div>
<div>To sit here in solitude
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Let mosquitos feast at my stillness
</div>
<div>My blood is there so others may live
</div>
<div>I ask for nothing
</div>
<div>I accept everything
</div>
<div>May the earth accept me
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>--
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Jeena Cho 조지현, “The Harvest Moon”</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>The harvest moon. I knew her once.
</div>
<div>Even loved her
</div>
<div>Didn’t we dance to her song once?
</div>
<div>Offering her our deepest gratitude
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Then I forgot
</div>
<div>This erasure wasn’t voluntary
</div>
<div>This relocation to the land that isn’t mind
</div>
<div>Yet, the harvest moon has made herself known
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Playfully, she dances on my blanket
</div>
<div>Wrapped around my body
</div>
<div>She says, come back, my love
</div>
<div>Remember
</div>
<div>Remember your roots
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>I look up
</div>
<div>she says,
</div>
<div>let your tears fall
</div>
<div>let the grief wash over you
</div>
<div>let me hold your heartache
</div>
<div>let my light heal you
</div>
<div>Let me fill you with joy once more
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>And I make love to her
</div>
<div>She graces my skin
</div>
<div>Touching my face
</div>
<div>I reach my hands up to the sky
</div>
<div>And embrace her light
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>And I re-member
</div>
<div>I say, Chuseok (추석), Thanksgiving
</div>
<div>I say, Charye (차례), the honoring of the ancestors
</div>
<div>I look at the photograph of my grandmothers
</div>
<div>and my mother holding me as an infant
</div>
<div>My body craves the food we once ate
</div>
<div>Newly harvested fruit (햇과일), Songpyeon (송편), Japchae (잡채), Jeon (전), Galbijjim (갈비찜)
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>And I can feel the pull of my motherland
</div>
<div>She is calling me
</div>
<div>She says, come back to me
</div>
<div>Come and drink my water
</div>
<div>Lay your body against mine
</div>
<div>Allow the ocean to wash over you
</div>
<div>Come and breathe me
</div>
<div>And bring me your daughter
</div>
<div>so she too can remember
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>--
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Tiff Lin, "The Wall"</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Someone once said to me
</div>
<div>and I paraphrase
</div>
<div>On the other side of your truest most deepest desires
</div>
<div>is an equal force of resistance.
</div>
<div>Resistance as in fear.
</div>
<div>Fear of not knowing how your life would change if you were to get that thing.
</div>
<div>Fear of your whole identity shifting, worlds collapsing.
</div>
<div>Your status quo homeostasis of comfort no longer.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Can you even imagine?
</div>
<div>Do you really want it after all? Is the juice worth the squeeze? Is the view from the mountain worth the climb?
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>What exactly is this wall anyway? How tall is it?
</div>
<div>Do you have equipment? Is there a cushion on the other side if you trek, stumble, and come crashing down?
</div>
<div>Who will you be leaving behind?
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Life’s not so bad now right?
</div>
<div>You are comfortable
</div>
<div>Yet a part of you will always wonder
</div>
<div>What is on the other side?
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Its too much work the avoidant one says
</div>
<div>The foggy weather comes through the cracks in your consciousness and your body learns what its like to dissociate, to placate, to numb
</div>
<div>Removing yourself from a projected source of aliveness, the brighter sun, clearer air, greener pastures
</div>
<div>You sink further into the coach
</div>
<div>Turn on the tv and you forget
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>This isn’t a Hollywood movie
</div>
<div>This is your life
</div>
<div>It’s okay to take as long as it takes you say
</div>
<div>One day you’ll have enough strength and momentum and clarity and vision to leap over that wall you’ve built, the bricks that have been stacked, one by one, by each of your ancestors who’ve labored endlessly to protect their family from the outside world, these walls that keep us safe are the same ones that keep us small
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>But at least we’re alive they say.
</div>
<div>Alive
</div>
<div>As in our bodies are still here. Our hearts are still bleeding are they not?
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Aliveness is different from just being alive
</div>
<div>You hear a small voice whisper to you
</div>
<div>inside
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>What if you just
</div>
<div>break through those walls and just do the thing
</div>
<div>What do you want?
</div>
<div>What do you really really want?
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>--
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Monica Ramil, "A Grief Prayer"</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>I pray for you in those quiet moments
</div>
<div>Between family gatherings and zoom prayer meetings
</div>
<div>Between phone calls and text messages
</div>
<div>When the house is quiet
</div>
<div>And you would have otherwise heard her voice
</div>
<div>Or the sounds of her stirring
</div>
<div>Or just known she was there
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>I pray for you most especially during those times
</div>
<div>That you allow yourself the full range of your grief
</div>
<div>To scream into the void
</div>
<div>To free fall into the agony of her absence
</div>
<div>To find comfort and closeness in your shared pain
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>I pray that you discover her again and again
</div>
<div>In untold memories
</div>
<div>Resurfaced photos
</div>
<div>A visit in your dreams
</div>
<div>An unmistakable sign
</div>
<div>A serendipitous hummingbird
</div>
<div>The kiss of a passing spirit
</div>
<div>All the ways she whispers that her love for you lives on
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>I pray that as you navigate this dark, unmarked path
</div>
<div>And bump up against the edges of your existence
</div>
<div>That as you swim in the abyss unable to tell up from down
</div>
<div>You discover yourself
</div>
<div>Your potential
</div>
<div>Your depth
</div>
<div>And also your center
</div>
<div>Your breath
</div>
<div>Your anchors
</div>
<div>Your strength
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>May you allow yourself the grace to fall apart
</div>
<div>and come back together again
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>May you be open to the different faces of grief
</div>
<div>both within yourselves and each other
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>May you make space for each other’s messiness
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>May you know you can ask for what you need
</div>
<div>And be gentle with yourself when what you need isn’t always clear
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>May you know you are loved and held by all of us
</div>
<div>The village that holds you
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div><strong>By Sally Chang, "Coastal Meditation"</strong>
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>The best kind of morning breath is oceanic
</div>
<div>Inhaled by the redwoods drawing the floating marine layer into its boughs
</div>
<div>like a comforter
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Mist alights on the fine threads of my skin fur, and
</div>
<div>slides down to the epithelium, where the pores assess what is allowed in or not
</div>
<div>Clean ocean air, in
</div>
<div>Truck smog, out
</div>
<div>Tiny doors rippling, connect-the-dots open or connect-the-dots closed
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Pacific mist or smog, breathing will continue
</div>
<div>Body remembering the dry autumn wind sweeping over ancient Appalachians
</div>
<div>while standing on the deck at Ancestral Heart Temple
</div>
<div>Long necked cranes stretch like noodles oscillating, ascending, aiming for the invisible thermals
</div>
<div>One by one cresting on the airlift, in-sync, feathers poofing out to full wingspan, then
</div>
<div>suddenly still, a taught harmonic
</div>
<div>having caught the membrane of the heat balloon
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Yet my body is still West, in Oakland
</div>
<div>The truck, long past while I was extrapolating a memory
</div>
<div>My face now relaxed, a soft smile appeared unconsciously, lips hydrated in the upturn
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Am I here or there, my mind wonders, as it gently pulls together a tiny stitch between coastlines
</div>
<div>The mind leans East, the ruddy ridgeline, the wind
</div>
<div>combing my body fibers into the ley-lines of the earth
</div>
<div>Ancient circuits connecting breath to flesh, flesh to feet, feet to foothills,
</div>
<div>salty sweat conducting into the grass, to ground, to roots, mycelium and dirt
</div>
<div>Following the worms as they till the hardpack, aerating threads of space between grains of soil
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>I swim in their wake, and become liquid
</div>
<div>All droplets descending, focused on hunting the scent of home waters
</div>
<div>Damply precipitating through the earth, burnished and filtered,
</div>
<div>slipping down stalactites, to tip across the dark space
</div>
<div>finally dropping into the hidden aquifer.
</div>
<div><br />
</div>
<div>Welcome home, where have you been
</div>
<div>Regale us with stories about your epic journey, old friends say
</div>
<div>Rest is in reunion
</div>
<div>The weight soothes the body whole again
</div>

Angelica Guzman

Anonymous

Catherine Conroy

YU-WEN Chen

Diana Wu

Lawrence Lin

Judith Daylen

Geoffrey Band

Karen Tsai

Denise L. Bray

Joanna Xing

Ariela Soto-Spinadel

Sophie Tran

Elissa Ryan

Maryani Rasidjan

Sam Lai

stephanie lew

Angela Barbara

Asian Diaspora Anthology

platform

Platform is iOS

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Thank you V3 testing whitelist

isRecurringFriendly

Is Recurring Friendly

Excluded funds - Video Sharing

Logged In Users

CH Donation Upsell audience

Android v10.6.0 and above

userCurrencyCode

Localized Currency

v11.5.0 and above

testAudience

pathname

Survicate

appVersion is at or above 12.8.0

Non-charity fund

isChallengeFundraiser

challenge-fundraisers

Payment Identity Launch Verification - Production

New funds eligible - Posters v2

CAD Donation Upsell Audience

Braze Email Tester

NPO Profile Opted-Out

iOS App Version

hasKnownDonors

PYMK has donors

iOS v12.3.0 and above

Asian Diaspora Anthology

Still $4,639 to go. Help us build momentum.