Happy New Year!
Yes, I’m wishing you a happy New Year way past January 1st. This is the time of the year where millions of people are celebrating the Year of the Horse. Families have cleaned and decorated their homes from top to bottom, altars have been constructed, special New Year’s meals have been cooked and consumed. Everybody is doing whatever they can to ward away evil spirits. Traditions run deep during these celebrations. But there is one tradition I want you to break…please take “Chinese” out of Chinese New Year.
Just because over a billion Chinese citizens celebrate the Lunar New Year doesn’t make it exclusively their own. That’s right, it’s not Chinese New Year, it’s the Lunar New Year. On the same day, Vietnamese people celebrate Tet and Koreans celebrate Seo naal.
So what’s the big deal you might ask? Who cares if it’s called Chinese New Year? Well, I do.
By calling it Chinese New Year, it once again reinforces the ideology that Asians fall into two categories: Chinese or something else. Inherent in this ideology is that being Chinese is superior and not being Chinese…well, just sucks.
All my life, the first question people ask me concerning my ethnicity is, “Are you Chinese?” No offense to my Chinese friends and associates, but the question provokes an intense reaction. So when well-intentioned people wish me a Happy Chinese New Year, I have to control the urge to not throw a full-on-yelling-pull-my-hair-thrashing-on-the-floor tantrum. Yes China has the lion’s share of Asians in the world, but that doesn’t mean they get dibs on making the Lunar New Year exclusively theirs. They can have Chinese lanterns, Chinese horoscopes and even Chinese buffets…but I say hands off the New Year.
Also, since when does a New Year have to be ethnically descriptive? When was the last time you heard someone wish another person Happy Caucasian or African-American New Year? When Jews celebrate the New Year, you’ll never hear them say, Happy Jew Year. People simply wish each other a Happy New Year and so the same courtesy should be extended to those who celebrate the Lunar New Year. Trust me, even Chinese people while wishing each other Happy New Year leave out the “Chinese” part. It’s time the rest of the world should too.
I know that change can come. I am impressed that nowadays more and more people are accepting and acknowledging different cultures and traditions. For example, more people know about Vietnamese pho and banh mi then I ever thought possible. Not long ago, Sirracha hot sauce was a condiment only found in Asian restaurants and households, but now I find the iconic bottle in Target and grocery stores. Perspective and attitudes can change. So when the Lunar New Year comes around again, don’t wish people a Happy Chinese New Year, even if they are Chinese. Just wish everyone a Happy New Year like you would do on January 1st. Non-Chinese folks like myself will not only appreciate the sentiment…we’ll also appreciate the inclusion.

Et tu Facebook?
I have an admission.
The other day, my friend Todd and I decided to go out for a bite to eat. We’re pretty open-minded when it comes to food, although he stops short of eating the steamed tripe I usually order when we have Dim Sum. He says it’s tasteless but I think he can’t get over the fact that tripe is the intestinal lining of a cow or pig. Before you wince or ewww yourself to death, you should try it, if you haven’t already. Too many people immediately pass over a dish because of its appearance or texture. For me, I like the flavor as well as the rubbery consistency of tripe, sort of like chewing on steamed ginger-flavored jelly strips. I have succeeded in getting him to taste it but have yet to get him to take a second bite. I don’t even attempt to order chicken feet€
After many years of self-employment, it’s been hard to go back to work in a corporate environment. I’m no longer my own boss, my privacy (if any) is restricted when I’m at the office, looming deadlines lurk behind every project and of course, I have to deal with the myriad of personalities, mood swings and turf wars from various co-workers. It has been quite the adjustment. But the biggest challenge for me has been something totally unexpected. It’s not something that most people think about but it’s something, unfortunately, I can’t avoid: the men’s restroom. You’re probably thinking this time my thoughts have really gone down the toilet, if only that was true.
My office, the other day, had the air-conditioning set so low, my piping hot coffee was tepid within minutes. Normally, it would take a good thirty minutes before it was cool enough to drink. The office, typical of many offices, is composed of different body types as well as varying body temperatures. The thermostat is usually set at a decent temperature. But on this day, it seemed nobody, except for me, was concerned about the arctic conditions. Fending for myself, I tried everything to warm up: blowing on my hands, putting on a jacket, holding a cup of hot coffee or tea and going outside. I think that was where it all started: going outside. Living in Florida during the summer is to know hot and not just hot, but what I call Serengeti hot. It wouldn’t surprise me to see wildebeests, zebras and gazelles roving by. So when I went outside, I went from the extreme cold to the extreme hot. My body didn’t react well and suddenly it was caught in a quagmire: whether to sweat or to shiver. My body couldn’t decide so I started to shiver sweat. Then I began to feel congested. The pressure in my head rising by the minute. I felt as if my head was being held underwater. The prognosis wasn’t good and sure enough, I started to sneeze, my nose became runny, my eyes began to water, a migraine was slowing being born in the back of my head. It got so bad I had to leave work early. I came home and immediately popped a Benedryl. I was knocked out for the next couple of hours. The night didn’t bode well as I was up sneezing, sniffling, aching, congested and yea you guessed it, stuffy-head so I couldn’t sleep. I called out sick the next day.


