"Shape of Me"

Written by: Julee Gould

“The Desire”

Black Friday just passed. It is a cold Sunday morning with temperatures averaging in the high 40’s to lower 50’s. I have been working on client website updates with my little helper. We can hear the wet raindrops pouring outside, leaving the old wooden fence dripping and the leaves on the tree branches showering the patches of muddy ground below. Thirty-Five years old, a beautiful pre-teen daughter, an amazing husband (who I am surprised is still sleeping); and an evergreen supporting mother in law who I would be lost at times without. It was another Family Movie Night, with “Boss Baby” on the screen; and as usual I fell asleep before we reached the middle of the movie. I woke up early in the morning around 2:30 a.m. hot, sweaty, and uncomfortable. Curtis was sound asleep next to me. He must have fell asleep before the end of the movie too. I gently kissed his forehead and slowly slid my way off the couch; I turned off the TV and lights. With the blinds closed, there was no moonlight shining in, so it was completely dark; so, I plugged in the Christmas Tree, smiling as I remembered the couple years this tree lit up our room. I could not get myself to go back to sleep so I got comfortable next to Curtis on the couch and browsed Social Media. Another RIP post I see; just the morning after Thanksgiving, someone loss their husband/father/brother/friend. I found myself looking up counting the invisible lines floating in the dark of the loved ones who have passed just in November alone. I started to look at his Facebook page, the photos, and posts from his friends and families. He was so loved. I started to think about Jeff, my Aunt, Linda and the pain her friends went through, my cousins, Cozy, and my friends/family who are suffering from challenges. My heart was heavy. I said a little prayer. I had to change my thought process; so, I moved on to investigating. Every now and then I search myself and my family on Google or Bing to see if anything suspicious come up. I do this to make sure our identities are not stolen or to find out if there is information out there that would jeopardize my family’s safety. Nothing interesting or new since last review but I came across my old Twitter profile: Juleewith2eez. I have come across this before but since I forgot my password, I never bothered trying to log in; but since I was not sleepy I decided to make the attempt. It was easier than I thought it would be, it took less than a minute. My last status tweet was in March 2012. Wow, five years ago. I was asking my best friend Jeimy, who I refer to often as my sister, about the dining table from Pier 1 Imports that was up for grabs. Curtis and I must have been shopping for a dining table. I was curious on how far back the tweets went so I swiped up, and swiped, and swiped, and swiped, until it got to the very first tweet in 2008. Along the way there were some heart dropping tweets that sparked memories I did not know I had. Thirteen years Epileptic, it has been hard for me to remember a great deal of my past. Some tweets brought tears because I felt the nightmare again. I got goosebumps. So, I continued reading. Reading about myself and feeling the emotions all over again. It was scary but most of all it filled my heart. There was a lot of pain and confusion in me in my earlier years, but as I moved on, I grew up and my life changed. My tweets changed. I was overwhelmed with this passion to tell my story, at least as much as I know of it. You can probably get a good idea of who I am and connect with me by my social media posts, but I would like the chance to tell my story in the way the I know it. So, here we go. This is the Shape of Me.

CHAPTER 1.

"Just a Glimpse"

It was lunch time at Houston Elementary school. Kids who brought their own lunch were free to find a place to sit and eat while other students wait in line to get their food in the cafeteria. I was super excited to not have to wait in line with all the other 3rd graders, and felt super cool about having a brown bag lunch my grandma packed me. My grandma (on my mom’s side) was from Lao and Thailand. I believe she was born in Bangkok, Thailand and started a family with my Grandfather in Laos. She brought my parents to the United States of America in the early 80’s through sponsorship and the military programs. She knew very little English, but she was able to say, ‘Thank you”, “Yes”, “No”, and some occasional “traditional” curse words she picked up from her episodes with my cousin Bounyom or Tha-Noy (Small eyes) is what my grandma called him.

I reached into my crumbled up brown paper lunch bag, obviously reused; grandma hated wasting ANYTHING! I felt a plastic wrapped item, shaped like cheese stick. I pulled it out of the bag and my eyes widened. “YES! NAM! I LOVE NAM!”. This is my description of Nam. It is like ham you buy from the supermarket to make a sandwich, but I called this one the Asian kind. I have learned now that it is made with fermented pork meat with thinly sliced boiled pork skin and other Asian ingredients and spices. It usually comes in an air tight packet like the cheese sticks, with one Thai chili pepper to enjoy with every bite of the Nam. One of my grandma’s favorite dishes is Tum Som (Papaya Salad); and she LOVED it spicy. I did too! I blame Grandma. Along with the Nam was a fist of sticky rice still slightly warm. Grandma always made sure the sticky rice was cooked first thing in the morning. The first bite was so satisfying, I remember closing my eyes and taking a deep breath and feeling like I was at home; when suddenly I hear, “Ew what is that? Is that raw meat? It stinks.” I started to explain to Sue what it was I was enjoying so much; but halfway through the explanation I can see her interest die and her frown of curiosity turned into frown of annoyance and discomfort. If I can hear her thoughts, they probably said, “Ew gross, you are weird”. Before she was able to say another word, I took my last bite of Nam and popped the last sticky rice ball in my mouth, gave her a mouth filled smile and wink and headed over to the basketball court with the boys. It bothered me that she looked at me like I did not belong around them, but I quickly forgot about it after I made my first basketball shot. I loved basketball. I wanted to be like Jordan.

I have many great memories from my childhood. I am the middle child of five children from our mom and dad. I am the first granddaughter; which I think led to Grandma’s (Ma Tow) and Uncle Song’s (Po Loong) overprotectiveness of me. Except for my two youngest siblings; we were all born in different places. Bangkok, Thailand, Kansas City, Missouri, Nashville, Tennessee; before settling in Visalia, California. We moved several times, but I would say we settled in Visalia because the bulk of my childhood memories are there. The closest relative was my mom’s brother, Song Vongsaly. He was the best Uncle in the world. He and his wife have Four boys. My grandma lived with my Uncle most of her life, but we also lived with my parents for a period. I was diagnosed with Epilepsy in 2005 when I was four months pregnant with my daughter. Many of the memories I speak of feel like just a glimpse to me; and sometimes I can not seem to figure out the order in which they belong. I struggle with determining what age I am unless I can associate the memory with a grade in school. Nevertheless, I am grateful to still have these memories, and will continue to hold on to them for as long as my heart and mind will let me.

Ma Tow passed away when I was 13. I remember like it was yesterday. I was in Craft class at Divisadero Middle School when I was called into the office. I consider myself to be a good student so getting called to the office made me quite nervous. I was sick to my stomach walking through the hallway towards the front office. My head pounding, my heart throbbing, and hands sweating. Before I even reached the door, my dad walks out of the office and told me in Laotian that we had to get to the hospital because Ma Tow was not feeling well. She was all smiles when we reached the hospital. Her skin pale and although she was already tiny naturally, she looked even smaller. Her smiling eyes turned into a frown when she saw me, realizing I was out of school early and angry at my dad’s idea to bring me to the hospital. We were not there long at all, just a few minutes for grandma to ask me about my day at school and if I have eaten anything. She told me she was fine, that I needed to make sure I take care of things at home in case the doctors decided to keep her from going home. Her last request was for me to go home and get the sticky rice started because my brothers were going to be home from school soon. I was so focused on doing exactly as my grandma said; I did not realize it was the last time I was going to have a conversation with her. We were sitting at home at our house near Green Acres Middle School where my brothers finished 8th grade. The pot of water just started to boil at the right temperature; letting off a strong hot steam to cook the rice. You can smell the sticky rice starting to cook all the way through. Suddenly the phone rings, my dad answers the call. To this day, I have no idea who was on the other line or what they said exactly; but when my dad hung up the phone in tears I knew Ma Tow was now on her way to Savanh; what we refer to as Heaven. I felt this immediate hole. There was so much I was going to say, just as soon as I was done with the sticky rice and got back to the hospital. I learned throughout the years, that I am still able to talk to her; and that she has always been listening.

CHAPTER 2.

"Once You Move to Sac, You Don’t Come Back”

A small Oriental market that sat close to downtown Visalia was one of the many places my family stopped at. On some occasions Tha-Noy and I used to walk there with Ma Tow. I overheard my dad speaking to the man at the cashier about our plans to move to Sacramento. They talked about the big city; how big and crowded it can get. Jokingly, my dad mentions if he is not able to handle it, we will move back home. The cashier laughs out loud implying to my dad that his plans to move back were not realistic. Boy was he right.

From Central Sacramento to the projects in Northern Sacramento, to a bigger place in Oak Park, then finally, better living in Elk Grove, California; my parents did it all. I realize now how hard it must have been for my mom when my grandma passed. She lost her mom, had to leave her older brother who she has always lived near, and help five kids recover from the loss of their only grandparent who was present in their lives.

Growing up without Ma Tow was tough for me. The things I used to do to pass time was no longer part of my lifestyle. Tha-Noy and I were no longer together every day. Part of sleeping at Grandma’s house, practically living with Po Loong; I always had a “sibling” around. Tha-Noy and I were always together. If I was not helping Po Loong with the Cows, Frogs, Chickens or going with Ma Tow to the Buddhist Temple, I was hanging out with my cousin Tha-Noy. When I lived in Visalia, the exposure I had to any type of teenager or high school relationship was not always positive, but we will revisit this later.

One of the reasons why my parents moved to Sacramento is because we had close relatives that provided different opportunity options for my parents to financially support my brothers, sisters, and myself. We rented a house right next door to my Aunt Thongdy. My cousins Kim and Marie were in their sweet sixteen years. Before them, I never really had a big sister figure to look up to or annoy because I was always with Ma Tow, Po Loong, or Tha-Noy. I did not have any problems with hand me downs. My hand me downs came from my older brothers who were about 4 or 5 inches taller than me. Luckily during that time, the baggy jeans and small shirt was the fashion trend, so it worked out. Until I saw how Kim and Marie dressed. They looked just like the girls on the TV shows. The newest shoes and the cutest bell bottom pants. Whatever new fashion came out, they had it. Nautica, Eddie Bauer, Structure, BeBe; you name it. They dressed appropriate, but they looked like pretty girls; not a tomboy like me in my early teens.

I flashed back to 6th grade on the bus to a school field trip called Sci-Con. It was a week field trip in the Sequoia National Forest where we learn about Science. My parents were not able to afford to pay for my trip. Sure, I sold chocolate bar to raise money; but I was only able to go as far as to the corner of my block. Mom and dad did not do the door to door with me and most of the time were working. Most of the chocolates were eaten up by my siblings, but my parents could not make up for the cost; I was blamed for bringing candy bars in the house and expect kids not to eat it. I was the only student in my 6th grade class in Pinkham Elementary School that did not pay the field trip fees in time; but my teacher Mrs. Wallace was not going to let me miss out on the trip. I still do not know what she did, but I was able to go on the field trip. Terrified to leave my parents but excited for the adventure, I stomped my way up the yellow school bus steps and found my window seat towards the middle of the bus.

We reached our destination. The drivers positioned the busses and we all settled down and awaited instructions. It was a long ride; my head was pounding, and I was not feeling very well. I blamed it on being nervous for leaving my family for the first time, alone. I was slouched back on my seat with my knees pressed against the seat in front of me. The boy in the seat in front of us pops up and starts talking about how it looks like the place he and his family have been camping before. He looked at me and said, “Did you sit on something? Your pants are dirty!” Before I could answer we were instructed to stand up and step out of the bus and form a line. When I was finally able to use the restroom, I discovered I started my period. I was devastated, confused, scared; my grandma was not around, my mom…. What do I do? I rolled up some toilet paper in the shape of a maxipad and went on my way.

We were assigned our cabins, showered, dinner, and bed. I spent my first week of menstrual period in Sci-Con using toilet paper; headaches, cramps, and all. Despite the five-mile hike to the top of the trail, I managed to still have a great time. I never told my mom or Ma Tow what happened at Sci-Con; just what I learned about Salamanders and building a fire. I was a natural at line dancing; and I can live off potatoes. My mom did not learn of my period until I was Thirteen.

We were living near Pinkham Elementary, next door to my best friend Adrian and a couple blocks from my bestest friend Betty Shewey. We had a large backyard where my dad grew a huge garden. He gardened everything from green onions to Thai chili peppers. I have a very funny memory about my dad’s Thai chili pepper garden, but I will tell you about it later. My family was barbecuing in the backyard. My older cousins from Po Loong were there too. I just used the restroom and walked into the backyard and was looking out the yard to find the other kids, so I can go back to join them. My cousin’s girlfriend, Jok comes running out yelling the toilet was overflowing and that someone filled the bowl with too much toilet paper. My eyes widened, and my heart started pounding. I turned around and ran back to the bathroom grabbed the plunger and tried to fix the problem. The disaster of water everywhere was prevented. Thank God! She could not believe that I fixed it, but I thought it was a good time to explain to her why. Explain that it was me that caused the overflow and why I was using so much toilet paper. I thought she would understand. Instead she laughed, ran out and told my mom that I have started my period for a long time already; and have been using toilet paper instead of maxi pads. Oh yes, I forgot to mention that all my siblings, cousins, and relatives were there to hear the conversation that was announced in the backyard. The only thing missing was a stage and the curtains closing slowly as I sweated bullets.

Now at fourteen, growing and discovering what I am or am not attracted to or interested in. I was still unsure of my comfort level in speaking about my body to anyone. So, I watched and picked up on things from my cousins. I got to the point where I was borrowing Marie’s shoes without her knowing, thinking she would not miss it because of all the things she and Kim owned. I always gave it back though, but I know she was annoyed and frustrated. I am sorry Marie! You were so beautiful to me, I just wanted to be like you.

CHAPTER 3.

"I Wish I Was a Little Bit Taller, I Wish I Was a Baller”

The cost of living in the Central Sacramento home started to become a challenge. My parents enrolled in assistant housing and we were on the move again. The state vouchered and approved my parents for a two-bedroom, one bathroom, apartment in the Arden Arcade projects in North Sacramento. We lived in a downstairs unit, just below my Uncle and Aunt, who I learned are our blood relatives. Their daughter is my brother’s age and I am the same age as their son.

My Uncle exposed my parents to different opportunities in farming; he explained in Sacramento and its surrounding areas, there are multiple farms needing fruit pickers. From strawberries to plums, you name it, we did it. Since we had school during the week, it was a weekend trip for our family to head to the farms and pick fruit.

I liked the drive so much. It reminded me of the days when I used to sit on the passenger side of Po Loong’s big red Chevrolet truck as we rode to the different farms to collect the cow placentas. Po Loong used to go help in various farms by collecting the cow placentas every morning. He did not only help sanitize the area with his collection process, he also helped bring in extra income. Po Loong did not have very many of his own cows, but Visalia and its surrounding areas had many farms. Collecting placenta was just another task a Farmer did not want to do; so, they hired Po Loong for the job. One of the major benefits of collecting the placenta was the extra income. Cow placenta is a delicacy in some foreign countries; some ethnicity believes consuming the placenta helps improve health. There were many low-income Hmong, Lao, Cambodian communities in Fresno that took high interest in the placenta. After collecting the cow placenta and taking it back home to thoroughly wash and individually packaged; Po Loong and I would travel to Fresno and make our sales. Weekend cow placenta collecting became an inventory process for us.

I love a good steak, but cows are gross, and they truly stink. Po Loong always made sure I had high and thick rubber rain boots and gloves; even though he did not care to use gloves himself. It was always muddy and wet; and Po Loong used to joke about how they never stop telling me to move. “MOO MOO!” On days he knew I was upset about something, he would throw mud at me. It was so disgusting, I would be furious but eventually I would laugh and forget I was ever upset. He was good at making you smile.

Most of the sales were done in the parking lot; where I always stayed in the car. If Po Loong ever had to go to someone’s house, he always took me with him. He never left me alone in the car. Watching him was my favorite part of the sales. The way he looked, you would not have thought just a couple hours before he was collecting placenta from the muddy farms. He was still dressed in his clothes from earlier; a blue checkered flannel long sleeve top, always tucked into his nicely fit blue jeans, that was tucked into his rubber rain boots he quickly washed with a spray of the water faucet, and his hair was always nicely combed and settled. He made sure he looked sharp, smiled as if life was perfect and he had no stress in the world, and his hand shake was always gripping tight. Everyone was welcoming of him when he stopped by. We never headed back home with inventory. Po Loong was that good.

In my mind the ride to the fruit farms took about an hour, but realistically it is only about a 20-minute drive outside of Sacramento. Dad usually finds parking in the shade near the trees that have the most fruits that have fallen under them and the least group of people. The wooden box container we filled were about 4x4 in size and 3 feet in depth. Each container filled was equivalent to $150.00 US dollars.

Our goal each day was to fill at least five containers by the end of the day. For a family of seven, it was a measurable goal. We are not able to move the containers, so everyone grabs a bucket, spread out and start picking up plums that have fallen to the ground; making sure we do not pick spoiled or damaged fruits. Each time we fill our bucket we would haul it to the container and dump it; repeating the process repeatedly.

In the beginning we would compete against each other on who can fill more buckets the fastest. I started the furthest out and worked my way in towards the container, so that I was not wasting time walking to the container. One hand holding the bucket and dragging it as I used my other hand to pick fruit and toss it in the bucket, I realized I was not going as fast as I wanted to. I looked up and saw my brothers doing the same thing; but I wanted to be faster. I determined I needed to use two hands to pick fruit, that process alone I can double the amount my brothers were picking. So, I decided to station my bucket and pick fruit with both hands around the bucket. I never stood up to bend back down because that wasted time, I would “sqrwal” crawl in my squatting position. My strategy was working. There were not very many fruit around my stationed bucket, so it required me to sqrwal further away from the bucket and sqrwal back. Sqwraling back and forth was wasting time picking, I can see all the good fruits I was passing up as I sqwraled towards my bucket. I decided to make a carrying bag with my shirt. In my squatting position, I pulled the ends of my shirt over my knees and created a Kangaroo pouch between my knees and my stomach. It carried about thirty plums at a time. Every time my pouch was filled, I emptied it into my bucket. My siblings started to do the same if their shirt will allow. By the end of each weekend, my family was filling at least ten buckets.

My favorite part of the fruit picking days was lunch time. Mom and Dad used to always pack homemade food and they always made sure we ate before the sticky rice got cold. Each day was a different meal and in combination with leftovers from the night before. Dad makes the best “Cheow”, a Lao/Thai spicy sauce that normally consist of Thai chili peppers, garlic, ginger, fish sauce, salt/MSG, lime, and sugar. My favorite of his are with roasted tomatoes or Thai eggplant. Authentic Thai and Lao food is my all time favorite. It reminds me of the days of going to the temple with my family. Normally the kids would run around in the huge Temple yard or play in the Koi fish creek my dad sponsored and helped build with members of the community. I was always right next to Ma Tow in the Salah, the kitchen and dining area of the Buddhist Monks in the temple. I was always helping with preparing the dishes and cleaning with the aunts and grandmothers. After the Buddhist Monks have eaten and we said prayer, we would all share a meal together. Ma Tow used always tell me how when she came to America, she had plans to go visit Thailand and Laos and tell everyone about how it is in America. She realized quickly those plans were not realistic during those times. The Buddhist Temple was the closest Ma Tow could get to home. She was able to speak her foreign language frequently and freely. She was able to connect with others from home and reminisce about the smells and temperatures of the waters in Thailand. Her most favorite was the food. It was mine too. I learned so much from my days in the Temple with my family and mostly with Ma Tow. It is funny that I too feel the same way about the Buddhist Temple and authentic Thai and Lao food. It is the closest I could get to my childhood home with Ma Tow and Po Loong still around.

Weekends were busy, and weekdays were allocated for school and basketball. The basketball court has always been an area where I can visit to free my mind. All my worries, thoughts, and emotions took a back seat; while I focused on perfecting my shot. For as long as I can remember, I have always loved to play basketball. I first played for Martin Luther King Jr Middle School before joining the Varsity team as a Freshmen at Grant Joint Union High School. I remember when my brothers started to compete in basketball competitions like “Hoop It Up”, I was their #1 cheerleader. Little did they know I was also their analyst. I watched and studied their techniques, and combined them to create my own. My big brother Ken was aggressive on defense and would go beast to the paint and up to the board. Do not let my oldest brother Souvinh (also known as “Soo”) shift most of his weight to his left leg and then slowly slide his right foot to meet his left foot and wind up for a three-point shot. He almost always makes it. As a point guard and forward playing alongside point guard, Carol Rasaphangthong, and some of our team mates; Claudine Liggins, Toni Sims, I was known to not being afraid to take the ball from you or go up for the three-point shot from anywhere on the court. Basketball helped me build strength, confidence, patience, and discipline. Being part of a team brought many benefits. I found friends and support. I gained friends for life. Some of them inspired and motivated me, others showed me things I know I do not ever want to try; but they kept me out of trouble. They helped me to get out of the dark and lonely place I was in since Ma Tow died. I started to excel in school. Participating in advanced classes and extracurricular activities such as Speech contests and debates.

A couple of buildings north of us lived my Uncle and Aunt. The Phetphaybounes. They have three kids who are our age. In fact, Sammy and my brother Soo were the same grade, Sara and Ken shared the same grade, and Bina and I became close friends our Freshman year. Sammy was the oldest and was the first to get his drivers license.

Our high school year was the era in which teenagers were demanding more independence. At the same time job demands and increase in the cost of living required our parents to work more hours. Through the farming and other jobs, my parents saved enough money to open their own business. Running their own business was a comfort zone for my parents; they used to run their own band and was successful for several years, so naturally they jumped to this opportunity. They opened a car detail shop in West Sacramento and by the end of the second year was pushing out at least fifty cars per week. The productivity demand required my parents to be at the shop for long hours in the day. It contributed to the increase in the independence amongst my brothers and I. With my parents working long hours, it was hard to commit time for my brothers to continue to compete in basketball tournaments; so, they played basketball at Robertson park. Most of the time it was fun and games; but in many cases money was involved, and it became a source of income for my brothers. They did very well.

I had a great deal of time to spend at home. Many of the students from school lived in the same Arcade community. Bina and I, along with other kids in the apartment complex would hang out in the streets. We would chat and play different games. My cousins started dating but with strict parents we kept it a secret for a while. It made us closer and we built trust amongst each other.

I still felt like a tomboy. I was a Freshman playing Varsity basketball. I still wore baggy clothes, had my hair in a ponytail, and I was uncomfortable wearing anything that revealed my skin, so I just avoided those type of clothes all together. I felt like it was not getting me anywhere with feeling like a young lady. Bina was always the pretty one and our friends were too. I was the only one who played sports and smelled like I needed deodorant sometimes. I remember being in Mr. Langston Pre-Calculus class where Roger was joking about how I can change their tires if they ever needed it. He joked about me working at Jiffy Lube. It did not feel like he was teasing me; it sounded like he thought it was cool. The other guys chuckled because they did not think it was true that a girl can do such thing. It made me uncomfortable. I was already struggling with being noticed as a tomboy with my long pony tail, now the boys consider me as one of the guys. Why I was worried about being girlfriend material? Well, I guess Kelly made it look nice to Zack on Save By the Bell, but Bina always had a smile on her face and felt good about herself too.

When basketball season was over, I got more time to spend with my friends and cousins. Just across the Arcade apartments is Grove Park and right next to that were the Grove apartments. Many of the students from Grant High lived there, so we were able to meet up and hang out very easily and often. Bina, Bob, Jenny, Vanmany, Lisa, and I were the usual five you would see together. When one of us was missing, someone that saw our group that day would ask immediately, “Where is so and so?” Most of our parents worked early morning and got home late in the evening, so we had a great deal of independence. We thought the only consequence of not going to class was getting an ugly letter on our paper that required three marks to make. Graduating was not much of a motivation because college was not realistic for most of us. Our parents could not afford it. Most of us, the main goal was to get out of school, and find a source of income to help our parents.

I do not know how it all started but we started to steal. I am not proud of it. We noticed how easy it was for us to do so, so we continued to do it. We started to have the latest fashion, everyone wanted to dress like us. We turned it into a source of income. I was skeptical, but there was one day during lunch when I did not get to the cafeteria in time to grab free lunch. I did not have any money to buy any lunch either. I looked at myself and saw my new bell bottom jeans and my brand-new designer jacket and I felt this rumbling in my stomach. I was hungry. It was lunch time and I still had four more classes to go before getting home. Nothing I can do. I turned around and went to Ms. Belama’s Chemistry class.

At the end of the day, I was ecstatic to not have to walk home from Grant High to Arden Arcade. If you Google Maps the locations and directions you will see how far it would have been to walk with a hungry stomach. I caught a ride home with my cousins when my brothers did not make it back to school in time from skipping class. Getting home was not always satisfying too though. There is nothing like home cooked food to satisfy your hunger. But with mom and dad working long hours and not much leftovers in the refrigerator; it was MaMa noodles to the rescue. I love noodles, so it was rather satisfying to me. I remember the days when Ma Tow used to make Tha-Noy and I noodles before school. Most of the time it would be scrambled eggs, toast, and a cup of Ovaltine; but on occasions she would make my favorite. Noodles. It would not matter which kind either, if it was noodles and it was nice and spicy, I was satisfied. That evening my parents were mapping out their finances. I did not feel like it was the right time to ask about lunch money in case I miss out on the free lunch again, so I just let it go and planned better.

The next time we skipped class and went to “work”, I focused on picking up things that would make me money instead of pretty. I picked up baby clothing and maternity clothing. High School students were getting pregnant and did not have the income to support their kids’ designer fashion; so, I took advantage of that opportunity. We even cut a deal with the school hall monitors to let us leave during lunch. We fabricated a note from home to allow us to leave campus. Life was great! We had money, food, clothing. We did what we wanted. We went where we wanted. I even decided to have a boyfriend which my cousins helped keep a secret. My brothers knew so that helped keep me in line on boundaries.

Eventually my brothers dropped out of school to help my parents at the shop. There was a huge breakout when my parents found out about my brothers failing and were on the verge of not graduating. My parent’s way of keeping them out of trouble was putting them to work. I continued my practice but at the same time made sure my grades were up good enough to graduate, I saw how much it hurt them that my brothers were not graduating, and I did not want to do that to them. I was failing Chemistry and needed to attend night school to receive the full credit for graduation. This worked out for my parents because they did not need to pick me up after school. They would close the shop and pick me up at night school on the way home.

My younger siblings were growing up. My older brothers shared one room, and I took the other room. Being the oldest daughter at my “young lady” age, my parents always made sure I had my own room. They made a studio like sleeping area in the living room; where my baby brother John and baby sister Diane (also referred to Anna) would sleep with them. My room window faced the back windows of the complex next to us.

My boyfriend happened to live in the top unit in the complex next to us, so we were able to talk at the window for a long period of time instead of the phone. I remember talking until we were tired, but I do not remember what we talked about. My mom was very strict. I remember wearing shorts one day and riding skates out in the street. All the other kids were outside too. I just so happen to stop skating for a second and sat at the bed of a truck where some of the other kids were. Right at that time, my mom walks out and see me sitting with boys. She saw nothing, just me in shorts on skates with boys. She literally walked over to me, grabbed me by my ear and dragged me back home. She never let go of my ear as she walked back to the house and as I rolled along with her on my skates. When we got in the house I got a butt whooping and a huge lecture about the image I just portrayed of myself out there. Stating she knows Ma Tow taught me better than that. The conversation hurts bad, more than her whooping. I remember laying in my room all night, never opening my curtains to talk to my boyfriend at the window even though I heard his signal. Eventually I told my mom about Darrell. He was introduced to them and our parents spoke to each other. We dated for a couple years, he was my only high school boyfriend. We outgrew the apartment and my parent’s income no longer qualified for assistant living, so once again we were on the move. They found an affordable three-bedroom home with a small one-bedroom in-law unit in Oak Park off 12th Avenue in Sacramento.

CHAPTER 4.

“A Taste of Everything”

My parents allowed Lisa and I to continue attending Grant Joint Union High School while living in Oak Park because I was participating in basketball, and I was also taking night school to make up for my failing classes. Night school was a nice change. It kept me out of trouble, but also out of the house. By the time my parents or brothers picked me up from night school it was dinner time, shower, then bed. My brothers were approaching adult age; so, my parents allowed them to live in the in-law unit. One of my older cousins Thavong, his wife, Jok, and their son Jacob came to live with us for a short period of time. They lived in the in-law unit with my older brothers. The detached garage was set up into a bedroom for my brothers. They all worked for my parents at the shop while Jok took care of Jacob and our younger siblings at home.

My cousin has had some challenges with drugs in the past and unfortunately it carried over to living with us as well. Working at the shop we had access to various chemicals and substances used to clean and treat the vehicles. He discovered one of the chemicals used to clear coat the cars gave him some sort of high. He started to abuse the chemical. My brothers followed suit. It tore the shop and family apart. My parents had to quickly plan. With the money saved, they decided to ask my cousin to leave and move us into a new home in a better community in Elk Grove. Things started to lookup in Elk Grove. The business continued to progress. Ken moved onto to working an hourly position with one of the dealership my dad received cars from. Soo stayed working at the shop along side dad; he focused on buffing and delivering vehicles.

When business started to slow down, and dad had to cut employees; they knew we had to find another source of dependent income. They started traveling up north to Mt. Shasta and Weed to hunt for mushrooms while my brothers ran the shop. They heard from friends that there was good money in picking mushroom; picking is another comfort zone for my parents, so they sold the shop and jumped to the opportunity. While they traveled up north for a long period of time, my older brothers were responsible for caring for me and my younger siblings back at home. I was in my Junior year nearly graduating because I was still taking night school but instead of making up for credits I was accruing extra credit. My younger siblings, Anna and John were in Junior High School by this time. We got another taste of independence and I do not think we knew what to do with it. My parents had no choice but to go find a dependent source of income. With five kids, the little money they received from selling the shop was quickly depleting. They would leave money with my brothers and let us know which day they will be back. They would list the emergency numbers and person to go to (Aunt Thongdy), go over the rules and call schedules, and tell us how much they love us. It did not phase me, I did not miss them when they were gone because I knew they would be back. Growing up I was always with Ma Tow and Po Loong. I would see my parents sometimes after a week has passed. I knew they had to go, so I did not make a big deal out of it. John and Anna cried every single time.

It became a routine to see mom and dad go for a long period of time. They would return to cash checks, pay bills, stock us up on food, spend time with us for our birthdays; and then leave again. We got to the point where we were able to coordinate our gatherings around when our parents were going to be home. We would include our cousin Marie as the responsible one so that Auntie or Uncle would not be suspicious.

I got some time to spend with Darrell alone. I think he feared my brothers because he did not try anything inappropriate. He was also a good guy though, so I did not expect any less. He was sweet. Wrote me letters. Went to all my basketball games if he was not working, and he never missed a special occasion to give me a rose, card, or gift. Since Darrell started working more hours and nights, and I was finished with night school; I only went to school during the day to catch some electives; I had a great deal of time on my hands, so I hung out with my brothers and cousin a lot. We shot billiards, went bowling, shopping, filling orders, and partying. By that time my cousin was able to get us alcohol through their connections; so, we were able to toast it up at home. Marie’s boyfriend, Tony, who she met through Ken from working at Rick’s Auto Sales, was around often. He was sometimes Ken’s ride to and from work. Tony was twenty-four years old and was able to get us drinks whenever we wanted it. We even got into certain bars and clubs because he was there.

I hung out with my school and basketball friends less, and I started to spend more time in the “night life”. I remember being at a house party and wishing Darrell was there. Everyone there was coupled up or surrounded by guys who wanted to know all about them. I felt so out of place. I was sitting next to the pool table in the corner. One of the guys noticed me and how young I looked and asked, “You’re not going to tell my mom I am here are you? Who brought the kid?” When he was informed that Ken and Soo are my brothers, he apologized to me and said he was only kidding. I was not sure what that meant, but since that day I realized that statement of me being their sister was the green card that I could be around their functions. I was sick of being looked at as a kid; Ken and Soo’s little sister they must drag around wherever they go. Darrell did not see me that way. In fact, I am more independent than any of the immaturity that filled the room; aside from my brothers. I wanted to leave so I asked Marie if they can take me home. She asked Tony to drive. I sat in the back seat watching how they flirted with each other. He talked about the places he wanted to take her the next day, and she complained about not having anything to wear. It was funny to see how head over heals my cousin can make a guy feel. The more she complimented their car, clothing, or features; the more the guy would offer to buy her things. She is not only beautiful, she is smart. They stayed downstairs. I couldn’t wait to get upstairs to call Darrell and tell him how horrible the night was and fall asleep on the phone.

The “partying” also became a routine. We partied and drank a lot. When my parents returned this time, they mentioned moving up north. I was devastated. Once again, I had to leave my friends and relatives. I had to leave my education. I was three months away from finishing my junior year in high school. I was working on getting a Stanford scholarship and continuing my basketball career. At that time all I can feel is unfairness. I worked so hard to stay on track, to graduate early, to make somebody proud and this was the appreciation I was shown. I decided I was going to run away from home. Anything that would allow me to stay in Sacramento.

The next day I went to school, and when my brother Ken’s girlfriend Lisa was picked up, I was not there to be picked up with her. I told Darrell to take me out after school. I did not tell him I was running away from home. It was his day off, so it was a perfect day to go out and hang. I made sure to request places my brothers would not go. We ran out of places in less than an hour and Darrell was a good guy, so he was stressed about worrying his mom, so we landed at his place and hung out in his room that he shared with his two younger brothers. Late that evening, my parents finally called Darrell’s house. His parents picked up the phone and informed them I have been at their house since shortly after school.

If I can summarize and translate what my parents lecture to me was about, it would be. What the fuck were you thinking? What is wrong with you? This is not you? You look like a Slut! I rain upstairs and locked myself in my room and cried all night. I remember my head pounding while I cried myself to sleep. I heard the phone rang, I can hear someone answer the phone. I did not care. I did not want to talk to anyone.

Darrell was able to continue to come over to visit. Driving from North Sacramento to Elk Grove was quite the distance in combination with his work hours; he was not able to visit often. Even so, I was not myself. I was not in my right state of mind, and I was still worried about losing everything I worked so hard for because of my parents plans to move up north. I was counting the days for the next time they were leaving again. Before they left my mom came upstairs to my room to talk to me about the relationship between Darrell and me. The discussion progressed to marriage arrangements. The Thai traditional marriage arrangement requires the future son-in-law to request the daughter’s hand in marriage from her parents while providing offerings in form of money or gifts to show gratitude and appreciation for acceptance of him to marry their daughter. I was furious. I wanted her to feel pain inside. How could she even think about that? All I wanted was to stay in Sacramento a little bit longer to finish school, but she made it about my high school boyfriend. I was hurt about how much she did not understand how hard I worked to get this far in school and it was not even noticed. I wanted her to hurt like I did.

I thought back to the time when I hurt my grandma. I will never forget it but will always regret it. It was during the time we were living with my parents near Green Acres Middle School. A beautiful four-bedroom home, and a huge backyard that we used to dig for worms in whenever Dad said we were going fishing. John and Anna were playing in the backyard one day. They were jumping from the trash bin to the metal T-post that connected the wires for hanging your clothes out to dry. Their goal was to catch onto the bar and swing off, like what they do at the school playground, minus the trash bin. Totally safe right? Wrong. John somehow loses his grip on the bar and instead of swinging, his hands slips off the bar and he falls straight down; landing on his arm and breaking it. I think he was around seven years old. While my parents took him to the emergency room, I stayed back and tried to explain what happened. Basically, they were just kids, they played, and someone got hurt. Ma Tow did not like that answer. She blamed Anna for the situation and wanted to punish her. Anna was the oldest in the situation and should have known better to not allow her little brother to jump off the trash bin. She was yelling at Anna with a fly swatter in hand. Grandma always had a fly swatter in hand or near; she hated flies. She demanded Anna to turn around to receive her spanking. Anna did as she was asked, but as Ma Tow took the swing, I interfered and grabbed the fly swatter from her. At the same time, I yelled in lao, “You are not her mom, you can not discipline her!” It went silent. She went silent. She teared up, walked away and called Po Loong to come pick her up. I saw how much it hurt her and that day I vowed to myself I would never hurt her like that again. At that moment, I learned a huge lesson on “think before you speak”.

At this moment, I thought about it. I was ready to hurt her emotions because my mom was not feeling any sympathy on how much she was hurting me. I felt like all she can see were dollar signs. So, I said told her, loud and clear. “You can not sell me, you can not accept that money, you are not my mom, my mom died when I was 13!” As I expected, it went silent. She did not tear up, but her face expression changed. She turned around, walked away, and closed my door behind her. A couple days later my parents left for mushroom picking again. This time I did not know when they would be back, and I did not bother asking my brothers.

I continued with my routine. Ken would drop me off to school in North Sacramento on his way to work in West Sacramento. Sometimes I would wait at Lisa’s parents house in Grove for him to pick me up or I would catch a ride home with Darrell. I started to feel like a burden on everyone, so I stopped going to school just for the electives. Darrell had already graduated, and I was hanging out with my friends less so there was no point in me going to school. So, I stayed home and waited until graduation day, got a job at Wet Seal to occupy my time.

The partying at home did not end or decrease. My brothers continued to have friends over, but they made sure to try to keep me away from it as much as possible. Their way of doing that was keeping me upstairs on the third floor in my bedroom. Marie and Tony were still dating, so he was around often. When Marie was not around he was still around hanging out with my brothers. He started to become some what of an older brother who looked out for us. Bought us things when we need it and took us places when we did not have anything to do. He started to buy me a bunch of things. I was no longer stealing and the minimum wage job at Wet Seal barely gave me a hundred dollars a week. With Tony around we still ate good and I always had the latest fashion and lunch money for school when I wanted to go to class. On many cases Tony would pick me up from school on his way back from work because he had to drop of my brother Ken too. We started to grow closer; and by the age difference, I can tell by the looks on my brothers face that they did not like it at all. I started to see Marie coming around less. When Darrell found time to visit it became awkward. It was evident Tony was around my family more than he was. It resulted in him breaking up with me because he felt I cheated on him with the time I spent with Tony. When Darrell left my life, Tony and I got closer. My parents made a bed for him in the ground floor living room, so he would not drive home drunk. I had to clean his vomit and pick up after their mess. He practically lived at our house and worked with my brother.

Moving day came around. The U-Haul truck was slowly getting filled with furniture and boxes. My room was boxed up, but my mattress was not in the truck. I was still adamant about not moving. I was a few weeks shy of finishing school. My brother Ken was going to stay behind too but he was going to live with Lisa and her family in the Grove apartments. There was not enough room for me to move in with them. Since my parents already paid for the month, I had until the end of the month to figure out finding a new place, a roommate, or enough money to cover rent. Since Ken was going to be in Sacramento, my parents made the decision to let me stay. Within hours they were gone. It was dark outside, and I was left in a large three-story home with a queen mattress, a lamp, and a refrigerator. I asked my brothers to setup the mattress in the living room on the second floor for me so that I was not sleeping upstairs alone with an empty house downstairs. I remember sitting their alone in the big cold house after my brother and Lisa left and looking at the corner wall where my parents had the Buddha statue and alter next to the foyer area where the big dirty fish tank used to sit, and thinking about my grandma. I closed my eyes and saw the vision of Ma Tow’s photo sitting on the alter and telling her that I am going to be okay and that I missed her so much. I wanted so bad to call Po Loong to rescue me like he did in Mooresville, North Carolina.

When I was seven years old living in Mooresville, NC, I returned home from school to an empty house. My elementary school was a couple blocks east of our home, so it was not a far walk for me to do each day alone or with a group of kids in our neighborhood. The door was unlocked, and the house was empty. We did not have cell phones at the time, so I was not able to call my parents to ask when they would be home. I proceeded to doing my homework, chores, and ate some noodles. Still nobody came home. It started to get dark out and I started to get worried. I have never been left alone without knowing when someone would be home. It was Friday night so there were several places my parents could have been. My brothers and sisters must have been with them. I decided to call Po Loong in Visalia, Ca. I was fine, but the minute he answered the call with such a happy voice, I broke down crying. Immediately his happy voice changed to worry and anger. “BEN YUUUUUUUUUNG?!?!”, “WHAT’S WRONG?!?!”, he yells. I explain to him I was alone, and I had no idea where my family was in when they were returning. He told me to calm down, assured me nobody would ever leave me, and my family would be home soon. The second he finished his sentence, my parents walked through the door. Exhausted but smiling as if they had a long but fun day. My brothers and sisters were covered in sand. John’s shorts were still a little wet. “Who is that?”, my mom asks while she haul in bags. “Po Loong”, I replied. Uncle requested to speak to my mom. I handed over the phone and grabbed the bags from my mom. I hear her explaining to Po Loong that they just got back from Myrtle Beach. They completely forgot about what time I got out of school but knew I would be okay when they figured out they would get home late because of how smart I am. However, she did not sound happy having to explain herself to her older brother. It felt nice that she had faith and trust in me. It felt horrible to be forgotten and left out from a fun day at Myrtle Beach with the family. I was lectured again that night; that I need to be a big girl and realize I was in a safe place and there were no emergencies. She asked if I knew what to do in case of an emergency; I told her yes, I would run across the street to our neighbors house. We spent time there often. They were the sweetest elderly couple. She then asked me what was my problem then? I had no problem. I showered and cried myself to sleep.

A couple weeks later, we were driving to downtown Charlotte, NC, when we arrived at the airport; I had no idea what was going on. My brothers were in school. We walked up to a terminal, the sign read American Airlines and my dad asked me to take a seat. I have never been to an airport before, so I chose to hold his hand and stand next to him. It felt like we were there hours. Suddenly, I see a tall dark man with nice combed settled hair, a blue jean button up long sleeve shirt, tucked into his blue jeans, that was nicely fitted. This time there were some funny feet covered with white socks tucked into a pair of black dress shoes with tassels in the middle. He smiles! “PO LOONG!!!!!”, I screamed and ran straight to him knowing he was going to catch me the minute I jump into his arms. He did. I exhaled. Happy place. He came with a family friend who we have known since I was a toddler. His daughters, Nok, Sherry and I play together all the time at Po Loong’s house. The entire ride home I could not stop asking when my uncle was planning to go home. He said he did not know, that his airline ticket was one-way. I was completely confused, but I did not care, Po Loong was there.

A couple days later my Po Loong picked me up from school in his rental along with Nok’s dad. It was an early day off, so I was surprised to see anyone picking me up. When I got in the car Po Loong asked me if I needed anything from home because we were going on a drive. “Nope!”, I replied. We went on a drive and drove for miles. We drove for hours. It got dark out. I fell asleep at one point, so I was not sure what time it was. It felt late. I remember we stopped and stayed at a motel. My uncle called my mom. All I can hear was screaming, I was not able to make out what she was saying. From what I was able to interpret from the phone conversation between Po Loong and my mom was; he was taking me home to Visalia, and I was living with him. If my mom wanted to, she can move back to Visalia, but he was not going to give me back for me to return to North Carolina. She has four kids to focus on and he does not feel it was fair to leave a seven-year-old girl home alone. A couple days later we arrived home at my Uncle’s new house next door to the Social Security office on Main St, and I was so thrilled to see Ma Tow. Not too long after my family moved back to Visalia.

Visions of my Uncle’s face floated through my head, but I refrained from calling Po Loong because I was afraid to disappoint him. Afraid that he was going to be disappointed in my decision to not stay with my family. I was afraid he was going to pick me up and make me live with him; which will prevent me from finishing school at Grant. I thought about calling Darrell; but I remembered how much of a burden I was last time so I fought the urge to dial his number too. I laid there in the cold room, head pounding, nauseated, tired, and cried myself to sleep; until I heard a loud muffler and obnoxious loud music getting closer and closer. It was Tony. He showed up and said, “Let’s go.” He was freshly showered, dressed up, and smelled of cheap cologne. I told him I did not want to go anywhere and explained to him what just happened. He said he knows, but asked why would I stay in this house if my parents left me, threw me away with just a bed and a lamp. I looked at him, shrugged my shoulders and then grabbed my bag and locked the door.

We ended up at his mom’s house in Bay Point, where his family was waiting for him with food and drinks. He introduced me, sat down, started eating and drinking. I slept in his younger sister’s room that night because his mom would not allow to sleep in the same room or bed as Tony. That same night, he left me at his mom’s house and went out to the club with his brothers and sisters-in-law because I was not old enough to go. I remember laying there in the dark next to his sister thinking about the skate incident at Arden Arcade when my mom snatched my ear. I was wondering to myself, what his mom thought of me that night. How was I portraying myself? I felt like I did not belong. I felt like I did not have a place where I belong. I got a taste of not having a home, and it was painful. I fought my tears because I did not want to cry myself to sleep next to a stranger.

CHAPTER 5.

"College Life Like"