I am a 5th-generation American-Born Chinese person. My mom’s side descends from the Chinese slaves that built the railroads. We’ve been in the Bay Area for a very, very long time. There are days named after my family members in San Francisco Chinatown, for their service to community. Despite our Chinese phenotypes, my mom’s side is American, through and through. My dad immigrated from Hong Kong to San Francisco with his family in 1966. His side are very much Hong Kongers. I was only able to communicate with my grandparents on his side gesturally, and through small bits of Chinglish.

Though both my parents are Chinese, I myself am a living bridge between two parallel, yet very different and nuanced worlds.

Growing up in the Bay Area bubble, I knew and grew up with people of many backgrounds, some of them asian, but after 2nd grade I was surrounded by mostly black, brown, and white peers and their respective pockets of culture. I was often the only Asian American in any given space I was in. In order to make sense of this multifaceted world we collectively call home, I’ve made it a habit (which grew into a deep-seeded passion) for finding the parallels and connections between all the experiences, stories, people I’ve come across. I’ve found my position as a perpetual outsider actually allows me a vantage point from which to see the bigger picture; allowing me to see how everything is connected. In this way, I’ve built bridges between people, places, feelings, worlds.

I have brought this bridge-building to my space-making practice by co-creating dances, open mics, and art shows for fellow qtipoc to meet, and feel seen, heard, and held.

I bring this bridge-building to my mental wellness practice by helping others to connect the dots on their own healing journey.

I bring this bridge-building to my art practice by creating interactive exhibitions where

I share deeply personal experiences, and then hold space for others to relate, reflect and do the same.

A world without bridges would be a lonely one. Bridges do more than connect lands—  they connect ideas, experiences, lessons, histories, dreams. The living bridge remembers where it came from as it reaches to make contact, find connection with, and make a home on the other side. That is my medicine.