We Build Museums So We Can Someday Stop Building Cages: A Taiwanese American Reflection from the Jing-Mei White Terror Memorial Park

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This essay was originally written for my personal newsletter, but I hope its reflections on heritage, human rights, and ethical imagination may resonate with the broader Taiwanese American community. 🫶 Hello from Taipei, where I’ve collected so many museum pamphlets and cute paraphernalia that I am tempted to start a junk journal (though now that I think about it, this Substack is an intellectual junk journal of sorts). I’m so grateful to have also spent time this week with people I’ve…

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A Republic of Taiwan: Breaking the Chains

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Editor's Note: A Republic of Taiwan: Breaking the Chains was submitted by high schooler Chloe Wu Shih to the 2024 Betty L. Yu and Jin C. Yu Creative Writing Prizes and recommended by judge Charles Yu as noteworthy for publication. We are pleased to share this impressive, deeply researched piece representing the views of the writer; in particular, Shih notes that Taiwan's history traces back to the roots of the Republic of China though it is our editorial position that Taiwan has a 6,000-year…

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“Not in Our Name” – Understanding the Jewish Struggle for Palestine from a Taiwanese American Perspective

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[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="990"] Ten thousand gather in DC with Jewish Voice for Peace and If Not Now to Demand Gaza Ceasefire Wednesday October 18, 2023 (Photo from Jewish Voice for Peace Twitter)[/caption] “If they hadn’t taken us, where would we have gone?” I've heard this question, once posed by my uncle in Taiwan, echoed countless times by Jewish and Israeli friends over the years. “Where would we have gone?” “Who would have taken us?” In the wake of World…

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Fantuan Discourse

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I would not consider myself an aggressive person, but I tend to find myself getting into petty arguments with my friends. One recent argument occurred right after a dinner in which I was introducing my new boyfriend to my friends Phillip and Lily.[1] It began innocently enough: we had dinner at a nice Turkish restaurant, then retreated to Phillip’s apartment for dessert and tea. During the conversation, it came to light that we are all of Taiwanese descent, which naturally led to a discussion…

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For a Better Life, Move to Taiwan: My Taiwanese American Story

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When my mom was twenty, she moved from Taiwan to the United States. Now I’m twenty, and I’m doing everything I can to get back.  There are practical reasons for this, of course. I applied for dual citizenship in high school, and since coronavirus has pushed everything, including my college classes, into the virtual world, Taiwan has become my fabled “land of opportunity.”  But there’s something deeper going on. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove my “Americanness,”…

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Field Notes from Pride in Taiwan: LGBTQ*, Taiwanese-American, & Everything In Between

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Taiwan was one of the few places worldwide able to celebrate LGBTQ* visibility and acceptance during this year’s Pride Month. Hundreds of participants wearing rainbow masks marched in Liberty Square on behalf of those who could not due to the pandemic. In the face of the recent killings of Black transgender individuals such as Tony McDade, Dominique Fells, and Riah Milton in the United States, this march symbolized community, solidarity, and resilience in necessary times.  This was also…

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“When I came out to my mom, she was scared for me.”

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When I came out to my mom, she was scared for me. “I want you to have an easy life,” she said, and coming out meant that my life wasn’t going to be easy. Like any other Taiwanese mother, she wanted to protect me from the dangers I would have to face as I got older. The world she’d grown up in, Taiwan in the 1980s, was dangerous for people like me, and she didn’t want me to have to face yet another form of prejudice. But she also knew that my world as a 21st century American…

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Balancing the Trifecta: Growing up Taiwanese, Korean, and American

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  There are 27 picture frames on the wall next to our staircase, each chronicling flashes of the life I know. Pictures of my mom and dad on a vacation to Italy while they were dating, pictures of my brother and me in Mexico, pictures of my brother as a toddler in a pumpkin patch. Pictures of my grandpa’s 60th birthday party, of my parents playing golf with their friends, of my late grandfather with my cousins, of my brother and me sitting on a swing set in Korea. My parents immigrated…

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A Rose By Any Other

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My Chinese name is 陳克聞. Seven strokes for the first character of my given name, fourteen for the second, because the fortuneteller told my grandmother that this mathematics of words was auspicious. I write my name with one stroke fewer than the prescribed number, so perhaps all my misfortunes are a result of bad penmanship. No one uses 陳克聞. At home, I am 哥哥, “older brother,” except when my mother, in exasperation, calls out all three syllables of my name for dramatic effect.…

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