I’m slow when it comes to recapping weekends, vacations and fun days with the family. It’s worse if I have to upload and edit pictures. I know some bloggers do this daily and even recap each day of their vacation, but I can’t do that.
After being back at work for a couple of days, I’d like to go back and relive the long weekend — except for that part on Saturday night when the UCLA football team forgot to show up at the Coliseum. Yikes.
Other than Saturday night, the long weekend was filled with good times.
Sean and I kicked it off by watching The Muppets on Wednesday evening. We both loved it as did the rest of the audience in the theater. I plan to see it again soon. I’m pretty sure I missed some cameos and jokes because I was laughing too much (manically, of course). I’d also like to learn some of the original songs and add them to my karaoke go-to song list.
After for going for a sunny mid-day run on Thursday, I headed over with Sean to my madrina’s house in East LA. Madrina Chilo always hosts Thanksgiving and other family members bring sides and desserts. By the time Sean and I arrived a little after 3 with our sweet potato casserole, most of the family had already eaten. I’d barely eaten in the morning so, I couldn’t be bothered to photograph my first plate. After scarfing down turkey, ham and lots of carby sides — stuffing! mac and cheese! — we retired to a spare bedroom with the rest of the cousins.
We played Imagine If and Last Word, took silly photos, and tried to keep baby Minel from stealing our cell phones. I liked the Last Word. It’s an easy game to set up and play with several people. It also made us laugh a lot as we tried to think up words that went along with the category (e.g. things in a purse) that started with the designate letter. Before everyone went home, we also picked names for the big family Christmas gift exchange.
I hope Sean enjoyed his first Thanksgiving with my family, even if he didn’t get his usual turkey leg… at least not initially. I luckily was in the kitchen just as Madrina Chilo was carving the second turkey and asked for the turkey leg to take home with my other leftovers. Yes, I brought my own tupperware.
I didn’t do any late night shopping on Thursday or hit the stores for deals on Friday and attempted to make some pumpkin pie. It didn’t work out well, but redeemed ourselves with some brownies. Instead, we ate leftovers, watched movies (Drive and The Muppets Take Manhattan) and were lazy.
Saturday was another chill day. I supported some small businesses (local nail salon for a pedicure, tacos from a local restaurant). I didn’t watch the USC/UCLA game since I don’t have cable. Instead I just got ESPN updates with each scoring play. A 50-0 loss sucks, but I wasn’t terribly disappointed or embarrassed. I’m not the one on the field or sidelines. Nor am I the one hiring and recruiting the coaches and students involved with the football program. There are many other reasons to be embarrassed and ashamed by college football programs and your alma mater than losing in a blowout to your rival.
At the end of the game, I thought of the UCLA marching band’s post-game ritual. I was in the band during my first two years, it was fun, but time consuming during football season. After each game, we’d play the alma mater, “Hail to the Hills of Westwood” on the sidelines. If we won the game, we’d play and sing a silly song called “Rover.” Then we’d change out of our uniforms and get back on the bus to Westwood. As our buses traveled the final few blocks in to campus, we’d sing the alma mater a second time. I miss those moments and wanted to sing the alma mater again even if it wouldn’t be followed with “Rover.” Maybe when I finally graduate, I’ll audition to be the singer at the ed school ceremony. That would be cool.
Earlier today, I was making fun of the Berkeley College Republicans on Twitter:
“I’m surprised college Republican groups are still doing the pay by race bake sale thing. That’s so 2000. I think they’d be more original.”
A few minutes later I added a link to the cartoon Lalo Alcaraz (above) published after the UCLA Bruin Republicans held a pay by race bake sale in 2003. I’m not sure you can actually call it a bake sale since they sold Oreos, Twinkies and crackers. Heavy handed with the symbolism much? Fellow UCLA alumni told me the bake sale was also done in the mid 1990s.
I wasn’t offended by the bake sale. Instead, I was surprised they were getting so much attention. Must be a slow news week, huh? Plus, these students could barely read when race conscious admissions were banned in 1995 and 1996 (first by the Regents of the University of California and then by the California electorate). SP-1 and Proposition 209 probably mean nothing to today’s freshman, born in 1993. My politics and education were shaped by those policies.
In the spring of 1998, I was part of the first class admitted under the new race-neutral admissions policies at the University of California. As I made my decision about which UC campus to attend, Berkeley or Los Angeles, I read about the severe drop (up to 50% for some groups at UC Berkeley and UCLA) in the LA Times. I didn’t get in to UC San Diego and wondered if I would have been admitted to San Diego under the old policies. When I toured UCLA and Berkeley with my parents, I noticed students protesting the effects of Proposition 209, a severe drop in the numbers of underrepresented minorities admitted. In the fall when I began classes at UCLA, I was well aware that my freshman class was much less black, Latino and American Indian than previous classes.
In the next few years, I got involved with student groups actively working on diversity issues and admissions reform. I continued my involvement as a doctoral student in higher education. I spent a couple of years on the board of the UC Student Association and lobbied California legislators on bills related to higher education access and affordability. I researched and wrote about admissions practices at UC campuses, attended weekly meetings of black alumni and community leaders pressing for admissions reform at UCLA, and was the graduate student representative on the systemwide Board of Admissions and Relations with Schools. I was definitely plugged in to admissions and diversity issues at UC.
Yet despite my years of activism, research, and lobbying, I hadn’t heard about SB 185. The bill, introduced by Senator Ed Hernandez would allow California’s public universities “to consider race, gender, ethnicity, and national origin, along with other relevant factors, in undergraduate and graduate admissions.” (Source)
I’m thankful the Berkeley Republicans recycled the bake sale. If not for them, I’d still be out of the loop. Now I can email Governor Jerry Brown encouraging him to sign SB 185 and encourage my friends to do the same.
This relay with my ed school people is gonna kick my ass. I’m not a sprinter.
That’s what I tweeted after the first practice with my relay team five weeks ago. I don’t have even a fraction of the speed of some other really fast Mexicans like Leonel Manzano and Ana Guevara. The other women on my team, Ashley and Tanya easily outran me. And of course I was slower than Marc, the one guy on our team. I didn’t feel too good about my chances of running a relay and not making a fool of myself.
Still, I didn’t back out. I liked my speed workouts on the track. At the practices, we did a mix of workouts: sprints of varying distances with recovery jogs or walks; hills; running the stadium stairs; and practiced passing the baton. We even got some unsolicited advice from a man training at professional level on how the “pros” pass the baton.
As I tried my best to become speedier, I also got to know my team, T-MAC. They reminded me of what it was like to be a first or second year in the program and prepare for exams. They were also pretty cool and I’m glad I got to know them. The race was definitely a good way to build community within the program.
The relay was held this afternoon at UCLA’s Drake Stadium track. When I arrived after work, a bunch of HEOC folks were already out to watch the competition between T-MAC (in purple t-shirts) and the Bees Knees (in yellow, of course).
The race was fun and challenging. The lineup:
T-MAC:
Ashley
Tanya
Cindy
Marc
Bees Knees:
Hannah
Gina
Dayna
Chris
Our first two runners would be slower than their first two. We knew this going in to the race. Marc reminded me before we started that we’d behind when Tanya passed off the baton and my job was to catch Dayna. Ashely and Tanya gave it their all. Tanya is slower than Gina, but she kept pace with her so we didn’t lose ground there. Still, we were behind and once Tanya passed the baton to me I had a lot of ground to make up. I tried to catch Dayna, but never did. I did close the substantial gap and was a few steps behind her when I passed off the baton to Marc. The last leg between Marc and Chris was the closest. They were pretty well matched in speed, but Marc couldn’t make up Chris’ small lead. Bees Knees won by a couple of seconds making for a pretty exciting finish.
I was a little bummed about the loss and that I couldn’t catch Dayna. From the photo timestamps, she had about a 17 second lead. I know I could have started faster and pushed harder. I’m more bummed that we didn’t time our splits. I’m pretty sure we all ran faster than we did in practice.
After the race, we were awarded silver beads. The Bees Knees got gold. Then we went off to enjoy a free happy hour and greasy bar food in Westwood. Fun times.
I’m still no sprinter, but at least I didn’t make a fool of myself out there. Now, back to long and easy runs with occasional speed work at the track.
I’d spoken to several parents and emailed a few, but Marta[1] was the first parent I’d met in over 4 years working at [science program].
Jorge, a junior, was one of our rising stars. Along with several other students, he was presenting his research at a national conference in Anaheim. Marta, who lived locally, attended the community day portion of the conference on the final day.
I got to Jorge’s poster first. Rather than talk about his research, which I wouldn’t understand anyway, we discussed his experience at the conference. His mother stopped by mid-conversation. He introduced us before turning to the woman who was there to judge his poster.
I had a short conversation with Marta. I learned she was from Guadalajara and had a couple other children who looked up to Jorge.
“You must be proud of him,” I said in Spanish.
She replied enthusiastically, and then confided that she wasn’t sure what she did to get her son to UCLA. Even her family wanted to know her secret.
The bad thing about having a TV and watching it is that invariably I’ll come across political ads. Most are just annoying, but some of them are pretty awful. For example, when I was in Nevada a few weeks ago, I saw one of Sharron Angle’s commercials during the UCLA v. Texas game. The end of the anti-immigrant ad called Senator Harry Reid “the best friend illegals ever had.” It made me feel sick (or it could’ve been the cigar and cigarette smoke in the casino).
Anyway, this message from Danny Oso’s little brother, Eddie, makes me a bit more excited about get out the vote efforts and the upcoming election. Danny writes:
My little brother wanted to get involved with the midterm elections. I ony helped him with some facts and editing the video. He wrote and drew everything himself. Please make sure you vote!
If you’re not yet registered, go here. The registration deadline is coming up!
I attended the SACNAS conference in Anaheim. I was there primarily for Job2 in which I do research on undergraduate and graduate students in science, technology, engineering and math (STEM). Students and co-workers from Job1 were there too and it was a nice opportunity to get to know them better even though I’ve known some of them for 4+ years now. I really enjoyed the conference and it made me even more excited for my dissertation.
The conference ends with a pow wow open to conference attendees as well as the public. Even though I was tired from a long day of traipsing around the Anaheim Convention Center and learning more about STEM education (in practice), I decided to stay. I like pow wows. I love the dancing, drumming, beautiful and intricate regalia, the representation of a rich cultural tradition and an opportunity to buy all kinds of beautiful jewelry.
I had the most fun at this pow wow, even though there were no frybread vendors, because I joined in on the dancing. I even tried to do what I remembered from my danza days during the intertribal.
It’s the last week of August which means (a) students all around the country are beginning the fall term or getting ready to, (b) all my friends who teach and work at colleges are lamenting the end of summer, and (c) most importantly, my birthday is right around the corner.
This also means I’m almost done meeting 100+ freshmen and getting them prepared for the fall quarter which begins in a month. My summer won’t be officially over until then, but I don’t feel like it ever really started as summers tend to be busier than the fall, winter and spring terms. (And I’m swamped with my own academic work… yeah, I’m still working on that PhD.)
Since I think I’ve learned something after 6 years of working with hundreds of college freshmen, I thought I’d impart a little advice.
I moved in to the dorms on August 3, 1998, well before the start of fall quarter. I’d been admitted to a summer bridge program for “disadvantaged” students. The experience was great and really helped me have a strong transition to college, but it wasn’t easy at first.
The Monday morning I moved in, Danny drove me to campus. He brought along Lori and Adrian to help. I don’t remember why my parents didn’t go, but it was probably related to work and the fact that few days later they’d be on campus for the 1-day parent orientation. Still, they weren’t missed at the moment. The siblings were more than enough help.
Once I’d checked in and received my key, we took my stuff up to my room on the third floor of the north wing. The floor was already busy with other students and their parents moving in.
I don’t remember if Lily had already arrived at the room. The details aren’t scribbled in my old journal. I do know she was in the room before we finished moving and the siblings left. Lily was one of several students from Garfield HS in the program. She left to lunch with some other students from her high school.
The siblings stuck around a little while, but soon they had to leave. I walked them out. They hugged me and wished me luck.
When I returned to my room, all that waited for me were a few boxes ready to unpack. I sat on the bet, a bit overwhelmed and feeling lonelier than ever. And I cried.
***
Every summer for the past 4 years I’ve gone back to dorms about once a week to meet incoming freshmen for work. I was up there this morning, admiring how “the hill” — the residence hall area — has changed. After my meeting, I walked over to the shiny, new Bruin Café and had a drink. I pulled out the Adrian Tomine book Sean lent me and got to reading.
Except for the newness of sitting in the Bruin Café, sitting by myself at table didn’t feel strange. I wasn’t embarrassed or terrified of it as I was on my first day at UCLA. I didn’t know anyone and didn’t want to eat at a table alone. Rather than go hungry, I bought a sandwich from the convenience store on the hill and ate in my room.
I still feel alone sometimes, far from my family, but I’m more comfortable with it. I’ve become quite independent and there are times when I relish in those quiet moments.
But there are still times when I want nothing more than to be back in Hacienda Heights with the parents and siblings. Invariably, those are the times when I get bad/sad news and just need a hug.
“In their honor we will pass the DREAM Act soon and very soon.” - Kent Wong
When I saw Matias at dinner on Sunday, he looked tired and weighed down with grief over the loss of two of his best friends. Despite this, he offered some advice and shared what he’d learned as a former chair of IDEAS (an advocacy group for undocumented students) and as an organizer for the DREAM Act. Before leaving, he reminded the new crop of student leaders of the memorial service for Tam Tran and Cinthya Felix.
“It’s in the Grand Salon right now, but we’re trying to get a larger venue.”
That didn’t surprise me. The Grand Salon fits 160 people and the event page on Facebook already showed a couple hundred who planned to attend. By morning, he venue was changed to Moore 100, a lecture hall which seats 419 people.
I showed up at 3:20. The room was already filling up. I found a seat next to my friend, Jessie, and waited for the memorial to begin. Soon, all seats were filled and latecomers crowded around the doors or sat in the aisles.
Kent Wong, the director of the UCLA Labor Center emceed. First he introduced Tam and Cinthya’s best friends, Dana and Susan. The two spoke together about the foursome’s bond. “We came as a four-pack,” Dana said about the group that could have been the poster children for diversity at UCLA. Susan and Dana reminisced about their Monday night fried chicken dinners and retold silly anecdotes about the two women many knew as filmmakers and advocates for undocumented youth. Susan told us that Cinthya outreached to high school students even though she really didn’t like kids. Everyone laughed. The full lecture hall broke out in laughter again when Heather admitted that many thought that she and Tam were a couple because they both had short hair and were inseparable. Dana and Tam worked on their papers together. “When we got stuck with writer’s block, we’d just switch papers,” she admitted sheepishly to the crowd which included administrators and faculty. “But it was okay, because we were the same person.”
It is with great sadness that I regret to inform everyone of the passing of Tam Tran and Cinthya Felix. These women were nationally active in the undocumented students Civil Rights Movement through their fight for the DREAM Act. Both were UCLA undergraduates and as graduate students Tam was a Doctoral Student in American Civilization at Brown University, while Cinthya was studying Public Health at Columbia University. These women were amazing activists and put themselves at great risk to fight for this just cause. Cinthya was a working class student from East Los Angeles, California and attended Garfield High School and Tam’s family had been displaced as a result of the Vietnam War and was from Garden Grove, CA. There is much more information in the links below about their lives.
Like many who havewrittenabout Tam and Cinthya’s passing, I didn’t know them personally. I knew of these two young leaders by simply being a fellow UCLA student leader and a supporter of the DREAM Act (both the federal and California versions).
Still, I was inspired by their courage to speak out and tell their stories.
Even though Tam and Cinthya passed on way too soon, I have no doubt they will continue to inspire more DREAMers.
A memorial service will be held on Monday May 17 from 3-5 pm in the Kerckhoff Grand Salon at UCLA.
