I spent the first eight years of my life as an only child, in the suburbs of Houston, Texas. I was a lower middle-class student in an upper middle-class neighborhood, and had only a handful of classmates who could empathize with my Asian heritage.

I looked at San Francisco, Chinatown with a certain longing, as a magical place where delicious Chinese food was served at every meal and where every relative’s hand was just waiting to hand me a red envelope full of lucky money. Houston’s Chinatown was a place that my parents would drive to once a week for a nice meal and Asian groceries. In San Francisco however, Chinatown was home to my cousins and hundreds of other Cantonese speakers. It was the first place where I was given the freedom to wander with only the supervision of my thirteen year old cousin, who enjoyed throwing bang snaps on street corners as much as I did.

Our family visits to San Francisco’s Chinatown became infrequent with the birth of my younger sister, and dwindled to a rarity by my high school years. Hence my delight, when a research grant from Rice’s English Department allowed me the opportunity to spend the summer in San Francisco. Armed with bravado and a writer’s notebook, I entered Chinatown, dreaming of interviews with immigrants in sequestered apartments and the crispy pineapple buns I would eat as part of my research.

However, the longer I spent in the streets of Chinatown, the more convinced I was of the dramatic thought that had popped into my mind after a day. Chinatown as I knew it, was dying. The streets of Chinatown were filled mostly with the elderly, and occasionally their grandchildren. While the buildings were full of history, they also had a faded quality to them. In the Chinatown residential areas, there was a complete lack of young professionals and Asian Americans in general.

From this observation came the basis of these stories, which explore the diversity of the Asian American experience, now that Chinatown was no longer a focal point of one’s identity. All of the stories, with the exception of the first story, are set in the Bay area. The first story, “Buddha’s Candor,” takes place in Houston in the distant past, and captures on many levels, the traditional immigration narrative. Based on my father’s story, this first piece provides a contrast to the feel and attitude of present-day Asian American community.

The second story, “It is better to forget” follows the protagonist into Chinatown, San Francisco. It is a story with a clear intermingling of the past and present, as well as the different generations of the Chinese community. The next two stories, “Frontier girls” and “A tale of two siblings” take place completely in the past while the final story, “IAmA 29yo Transgender MtF, AMA” moves into nature as a setting. To complement this geographical progression, I have interspersed a series of shorts called “Sketches of Chinatown,” which give the reader an intimate glimpse of different parts of Chinatown in the course of a day.

Fiction has and always will be my favorite medium to speak through. In fiction writing, I am free to lie without guilt and recolor entire rooms if I so please. Fiction is a safe place where I can take the dirty details of a loved one’s life and weave them into a story character so that it is palatable to the world. Fiction is a fun place where I can vicariously live the lives of people I could never become, and meet the people I’ve always wanted to meet. This story collection is an embodiment of my love for this genre and my heritage. It is my hope that every reader will be able to walk away from this short story collection, not just with a greater understanding of the Asian American experience, but also with fresh eyes for all of the novelty and beauty that this world holds.

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Acknowledgements

Thank you, Ian, for all of the guidance and encouragement you provided during the course of this hectic year. My appreciation for the craft and technique behind short stories would not be where it is today had it not been for the amazing Intro to Fiction Writing class that you taught, in the fall of my junior year. It has been an honor and a privilege to listen to your advice about “spandrels,” and I have honestly enjoyed every single metaphor that you have used to explain good writing to me. You are a professor who has knack for explaining everything, and genuinely cares for his students. I cannot thank you enough for the patience and time you invested into this senior thesis endeavor.

I would not have been able to write this thesis without the Minter Summer Scholars grant that was provided for me by Rice’s English Department. Besides unforgettable life experiences, my summer of research in San Francisco gave me a deeper understanding of my own ethnic community and heritage. I am indebted to Dr. Krista Comer, who supported me tremendously throughout the application process with her enthusiasm and expertise. Thank for taking time out of your busy schedule to drive me to Samuel P Taylor State Park and for all of the invaluable resources you pointed me to.

I would like to dedicate this short story collection to my father, whose life was the primary inspiration for the character of Charlie in “Buddha’s Candor.” Since that first day in the kitchen as an illegal child dishwasher, he worked hard to save money, and I am huge beneficiary of the great lengths he took to break the cycle of poverty in our family. My very existence at Rice, as a first generation college student, is a testimony to the power of a parent’s love to change a child’s life.