Dr. Calvin Sun worked in seven Emergency Rooms across four of the five New York City boroughs and recounts the early months of Covid in his new book, The Monsoon Diaries: A Doctor’s Journey of Hope and Healing from the ER Frontlines to the Far Reaches of the World. His on-air interviews, frequently from the ER, on NBC, MSNBC, FOX Business and CNN kept New Yorkers and all of America apprised of the raging pandemic.

Starting in early March 2020 through July, Dr. Sun chronicles the courageous efforts of frontline healthcare workers, risking their own lives as they fought to keep patients alive. With a foreword by CNN journalist Lisa Lang, The Monsoon Diaries details how the New York medical systems were woefully unprepared for the pandemic, struggling to make policies to protect the public and frontline heath care workers without sufficient PPE, ventilators, ICU beds or funding. 

Dr. Sun shares his journey, from growing up as a young Asian American in New York, to the grief of losing his father as a teenager and his calling first to medical school and then to the open road. He weaves his love for travel into the memoir, sharing how a lost bet and a $600 flight to Egypt changed his life. Before the pandemic, Dr. Sun worked per diem, so his flexible work schedule allowed him to lead adventurous trip across the globe, averaging one international trip a month. He recorded his travel adventure on a blog title Monsoon Diaries, after traveling to Southeast Asia and India during Monsoon season. Today Dr. Sun has traveled to more than 200 countries and territories with over hundreds of companions from around the world.

We had a chance to chat with Calvin about his book and his experiences:

1. You worked per diem in numerous ERs across 4 out of the 5 boroughs of New York City, gaining a unique perspective of the pandemic unfolding in different environments compared to a full time doctor within a single hospital system. Can you share what March and April 2020 were like for you? 

Calvin: As I wrote in my book, “what kind of nightmares would I still have if I weren’t already living in one?”: It was like running naked into a Category 5 Hurricane, while also being asked to board up everyone’s houses with no more wood left. 

Because our patients were so vulnerable at a time when we felt similarly helpless and vulnerable, the line between patient and caregiver blurred and it felt like we all became sacrificial lambs to the pandemic. Not only were we both stuck on the frontlines facing a little-known virus that could potentially also harm our families at the time, we also had inadequate protective personal equipment and no idea how long this was going to last, when it was going to end, as well as knowing we would also be deprived of the resources that would recharge us and refill our cups during a lockdown.

2. We have come so far since March 2020, but Covid is still very much with us. What was it like to look back at those first few months and write your experiences? 

Calvin: Cathartic: Writing is therapy. Revisiting and refacing difficult events, as hard as they may feel, is part of the healing process. This was mine.

And in turn with writing a book for others to read, we need to properly acknowledge what happened -- what we all went through together – as part of a collective healing process.

3. Knowing what was ahead for you, what would you tell March 2020 Calvin? 

Calvin: Keep your head up. Keep writing. Keep sharing. The world deserves to know the truth.

4. PPE shortages were incredibly serious, and many (most?) hospitals did not have enough masks, gowns, face shields, etc. Can you tell us about your experience trying to protect yourself from exposure? 

Calvin: Like MacGyver on steroids; we furiously cobbled together feeble medieval armor for 21st century warfare -- trash bags, masks flipped upside down, re-wearing single-use PPE for weeks … all the while knowing what we really needed (a PAPR or a Powered Air Purifying Respirator) would never be made available to us. Were we that expendable? And when the CDC printed official recommendations mentioning “scarves” and “bandanas” as a last resort, that’s when we felt a sense of total abandonment by the very institutions meant to keep us safe.

5. You also share that a lot of people donated PPE to you. What did those donations mean to you?

Calvin: I thank them explicitly not only in the book but extensively in the acknowledgments: They saved my life and so many others. I felt seen. The home front to the front lines; it seemed as if all of humanity began to work together when we realized long established institutions were not going to be enough to protect us.

6. Because you work per diem, you don’t have the support and stability of a full-time job. But it also means there isn’t an HR or communications department holding you back from talking with the media. How did you start doing national tv interviews during the pandemic? Why was it important for you to share your experiences on a national stage?

Calvin: They reached out of the blue to me! I’m not sure how they found me, whether it was from previous work with them covering my monsoon trips, the media coverage of my visit to North Korea in 2011, or from my social media. Regardless, I learned how small the world can be; one appearance could lead to countless more. 

I said yes to all of them because it was important to inform everyone stuck at home in a lockdown what they were staying at home for -- preventing more victims of an invisible enemy -- and what horrors behind the walls of the emergency room they were protecting themselves and their loved ones from.

7. You write about treating a nurse for Covid who asked to be intubated after seeing her oxygen levels. She was dead two days later. How do you keep showing up for work after something like that? 

Calvin: We go back in for the people next to us as well as ensuring that the sacrifices of our fallen colleagues would not be in vain. Because if we don’t show up, who else will? The healthcare system would have otherwise collapsed. As long as we kept showing up, we knew we were doing our best to hold the line.

8. Your grandfather called you with Covid symptoms in April and you advised him not to go to the ER, that you would come over and monitor him. But he called 911 anyway and went to the hospital. You monitored his care with the ER staff until his death on April 22, 2020. So many of us have lost loved ones to Covid. How did his death affect you?

Calvin: I felt so alone for him, how he must have felt dying alone, and then anger at myself for not doing enough. I also felt hopeless, helpless, aggrieved, and inconsequential. Meaninglessness. A void.

Then as I watched the pandemic progress to as far as California, I felt the same kind of inconsequential and wrote the following in the wake of processing his death a few months later:

“I’ve acknowledged the gratitude for at least still having the privilege and space of even processing these emotions. But daily expressions of gratitude cannot shield us from the frustration of seeing countless people like my grandfather having suffered unnecessarily, as well as a sense of indifference by the countless others who have chosen to ignore what’s going on. 

While many of us have struggled to warn, protect, prevent — whether or not in vain — all the privilege in the world can’t heal helplessness. And yet this hidden force (Is it Privilege? Conscience? Karma? Self-Righteousness? God? Purpose? Empathy? Love? Habit?) remains, committing us to a responsibility where we may at least validate kindred peers out there who struggle alone in their grief. Perhaps if we could reach even one person, who then can help another loved one, entire communities and people like my grandfather can be protected.

I’ve been angry at myself and various people the past few years for many reasons, but I realize none of it may have been worth it. I instead now direct most of my rage at ages-old established institutions of socialized behaviors that have encouraged self-serving entitlement to eclipse compassion. 

I don’t want this to be a self-righteous condemnation of anyone in particular — we’ve all been part of the problem. We’ve all stumbled and forgiven ourselves. But among my many imperfections as a human, I still strive for self-awareness, to learn, separate myself from my own bad habits, and at least not put anyone in harm’s way. I only wish the rest of my world could also collectively surrender a little entitlement and want the same. Only then can we stop perpetuating a vicious culture. So even as inconsequential as this post may be, may we continue to burn, burn, burn with rage rather than become indifferent. May we stay human.”

9. Your father’s death when you were a teenager must have been devastating. How did his death lead you to go to med school, which started as his idea more than yours? 

Calvin: After the death of my father, I initially rejected medical school believing it was his dream for me to be a doctor, and not my own. However, after losing a bet that led me to travel internationally and realizing how little I knew about myself, something stirred within my subconscious: perhaps I was rejecting an idea -- an entire career in medicine -- because of him. What if I was actually meant to be a doctor all along, but instead I was about to live my entire life shutting down that possibility as an act of rebellion against my father without ever knowing? Or was this a sick version of reverse psychology emanating from his grave? Like the Iocane Powder "Battle of Wits" scene from the movie "The Princess Bride", I didn't know which of my thoughts was the poison, or ones I should trust.

In the end if I truly wanted to be free from his influence, I needed to decide for myself. But how? This mental jiu-jitsu frustrated me, so out of that psychological morass I said to hell with it and took concrete action, wagering another challenge to myself apply to medical school to see if I was even meant to get in. Just like losing the bet that would lead me to Egypt, the expectation was that I would get denied from every medical school, check that box off, and move on. 

Although I had a sub-par collegiate GPA and poor test-taking skills, I worked hard on my personal statements and interviews; I definitely didn't half-ass anything and always have put my best foot forward. I relied on allies along the way who would believe in me more than I did as well as the detractors who motivated me to think differently; skepticism or support, I could not have gotten as far as I did without them. Nevertheless, just as I didn't expect myself to travel as much as I would until it happened, neither did I expect to get in anywhere. But one school found me “an interesting candidate" and wanted to take a chance on me: I got in.

And from medical school until working as a doctor in NYC Emergency Rooms during the pandemic, I would still spend half my time living a life in medicine, and the other half leading adventure trips around the world. Over the past 12 years, I’ve traveled to over 200 countries and territories, all while completing medical school and medical residency in Emergency Medicine. I am now grateful to share my origin story through the loss of my father and travel and how they both indirectly prepared me for my experiences in seven different Emergency Rooms during the early months of COVID-19, in my memoir, The Monsoon Diaries: A Doctor’s Journey of Hope and Healing from the ER Frontlines to the Far Reaches of the World.

Despite more than a few close calls and almost getting kicked out a handful of times along the way, I still became a doctor and now so grateful that I have become one – and grateful that I became a doctor not for the “destination” and end result but rather for the journey that got me here. And what a journey it has been; one I can gratefully claim as mine to tell.

10. What were the first signs that New York was coming through the crisis and was starting to heal? 

Calvin: When people starting cussing at each other to put their masks on and the reply would be ironically thanking each other for the reminder.

Then as the weather warmed and Spring came amidst over weeks of daily city-wide rallies for BLM, our rates for COVID-19 related infections, hospitalizations, and deaths continued to drop. That’s when I realized COVID doesn’t spread well at all outdoors.

11. Between chapters explaining the realities of Covid, you share your love of traveling that started with a lost bet and a $600 flight to Egypt ten years go. Now you lead groups on trips across the world and refer to it as Monsooning. Why the name and why the wonderlust? 

Calvin: I was enamored with how the weather pattern of a monsoon, as intense as it can be, tends to be positively reframed in many parts of the world as portending the harvest season. A monsoon also leaves as quickly as it arrives while still covering a large surface area in a short amount of time, and that’s how I like to travel.

It soon became synonymous with a style of travel that my co-travelers have considered unique for combining spontaneity and adventure without giving up your day job. Like those who spontaneously decided to run along with Forrest Gump, it seems that people joining along for “monsooning” spontaneously grew out of my blogging every day while on the road.

12. Your bio says you have visited 200 countries and territories. What’s not on that list? Where are you going next?

Calvin: A handful of island countries in the Pacific Ocean, Bhutan, Syria, and much of West and Central-East Africa. And if it’s not on that list, that’s where I’m going next!

13. The book ends with a cross-country road trip beginning in June 2020 which led to an even larger one in August 2020, the first major trip and monsoon you were able to lead for 6 months. Was the ability to travel again a relief to you? 

Calvin: You have no idea. 

What dreams would I still have if I weren’t already living one?

…

You can connect with Calvin at calvin@monsoondiaries.com or follow his journey on Instagram @monsoondiaries.

If you’d like to contribute a Cultural Perspectives guest post, please reach out! jd@crushingthemyth.com

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— JD, founder, Crushing The Myth

(original post dated March 21, 2022)

Christopher Chen graduated from Brown University studying Computer Science and East Asian Studies. He was one of the first engineers at the security startup Vanta. He is currently writing his fictional podcast, Some way home, a story based on his own experiences navigating his relationship with his parents.

“Do your parents say, I love you?”

Now that most of my peers and I have moved out from our childhood homes, there usually isn’t too much to talk about when it comes to our immigrant parents. I might hear a quick mention about visiting for a few days, or listen to a dismissive comment about their mom telling them to freeze their eggs. I get the sense that we all inevitably come to terms with our relationships with our parents. “It is what it is.” For better or worse, the relationship that I have with my parents is one I’ve most relegated to being fixed in stone. So when my friend asked me that question, it was strange when it lingered.

As Chinese immigrants, my parents did not bring those words, “I love you” with them to America. Those weren’t words that they grew up with. Those weren’t words that I grew up with. Those were words for Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams. Those were words for families on the Disney Channel. Those words sometimes still taste like sandpaper in my mouth.

We grew up with fruit on the table, family dinners delayed for moms and dads coming home late, and reminders to put on our jackets. We grew up with a different language of love. One that has slowly made its way into writing and media, and one that only became recognizable with distance and time. So why did that question, “Do your parents say, I love you?” still linger?

It lingers not because I still crave some American or Western style phrase of affirmation or approval. It lingers not because I still wish my childhood were some other particular way. It lingers not because I wish I knew the words to old Beatles songs and could tell people about the Carpenters.

It lingers because I still hope that myself, my parents, and our relationship can still change. It lingers because I still hope that we can have a relationship that isn’t based on parenting and being parented. It lingers because I still hope that my parents can understand me the way I understand myself, and that I can understand my parents the way that they understand themselves. It lingers because I still hope that there is still time to grow together, rather than being resigned to the ways things are.

My hope is not a hope that my parents brought from where they were born. My hope is a hope that I bring from where I was born. My hope is a hope because we are a Chinese home, an Asian home, and a home that is filled with foods that I don’t know the English names for. My hope is a hope because we are an American home, a Western home, and a home that played the Disney channel all the same.

So now when my mom says “I love you,” or hangs up with a quick “love you,” on the phone, I know I’ve discovered a secret. When my dad surprises me by honestly listening to my suggestions, and might let out a “you’re right,” I know I’ve unraveled a mystery. It may be slow, and it may be small, but we are more than parents and children who can say that we love each other. We can change for each other.

…

I also asked 120 Asian Americans if their parents say, “I love you” along with a few other questions. You can take the survey yourself and see the results here:

https://asianamerican.fyi/

The data I collected itself wasn’t the remarkable part. The best parts have been the conversations I’ve had with other people — they helped me get to the core of why, despite everything that I understand about different love languages and my own family, that question stuck with myself, and I think with others. That’s this essay. If you’d like to follow along with more specific updates from this project itself, or my next storytelling project, follow me on Twitter. You can also follow my progress working on a fictional podcast telling another Asian American story, Some Way Home.

If you’d like to contribute a Cultural Perspectives guest post, please reach out! jd@crushingthemyth.com

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We appreciate you.

— JD, founder, Crushing The Myth

(original post dated June 8, 2020)

Nathan Reddy recently graduated from Cornell with a BA in American Studies, with minors in Asian American Studies and Public Service Studies. At the same time of graduation, he had also completed the Cornell Public Service Center Scholars Program, the University’s service-learning program which he says, “personally made college worth it, intrinsically and because it inspired me to become an educator myself.” Nathan is associate editor of and a regular contributor to Community Works Journal, and is currently a Fellow with Community Works Institute (CWI).

Orange pill containers clutter my bedstand. Every midday I wrestle with all of them, making sure I take all five and a half because doctor says, with one half a pill going down right before bed. All are fighting the battle to make me “normal.” At least, normal enough. I’ve been at home for more than eight months now taking care of my mental health. Some days I’m enamored by all the possibilities of life, stretched out before me in an endless expanse. Maybe this will happen, or that. Good things. Dreams coming true. Other days I’m riddled with paralyzing anxiety and trenchant depression, wondering why I ever thought things could possibly get better. All I can see during those times are grueling, agonizing moments. And just like that, the days roll by. The months trudge on. A year on the horizon.

The other day I watched Netflix’s new documentary, Spelling The Dream with my family. It follows four buzzing, bustling Indian American kids who all share the wonderful dream of winning the Scripp’s National Spelling Bee. Each of them with their own, multi-tiered strategies to clench victory. That’s too much pressure. I could never. The hours spent hunched over the dictionary, being grilled by parents over and over and over again on not just the right spelling, but the language of origin, the definition, even the coded pronunciations.

It reminded me of when my own parents enrolled me in the 2010 MetLife South Asian Spelling Bee. Of course, there’s a bee just dedicated for South Asians, where parents can trade trade-secrets and eye each other suspiciously, and competitors can bond over being there. I was one of the older kids, but that didn’t stop me from getting out early. I misspelled “canary.” For some reason, I thought there were two n’s, and I confidently said them in succession. I was surprised when I got out; so were my parents. They were awkward about my premature exit. Just like that my mom’s dream of me winning the Big Bee was dashed. Nonetheless, we all went to Krispy Kreme afterwards to scarf donuts. I think my parents were eating their dreams, especially my mom, but I was just eating out of a sense of genuine relief and a love for donuts.

The documentary sought to explain the phenomenon of Indian American kids dominating the National Spelling Bee; it went all the way back to the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965. America opened its doors to highly skilled immigrants from India sold on the American Dream, who came and sacrificed so their kids could dream about winning the National Spelling Bee. Which is, all things considered, a very realistic dream. They have the resources to compete. Something I share with all those kids, the ones profiled in the documentary and even the winners of the National Spelling Bee of the past few decades is this prenatal history. What we don’t share, however, is the same life path. What went wrong with mine? Mental illness has thrown a wrench in what should be linear. I study as much as them, but my studying consists of reviewing and re-reviewing my own thoughts; I can ruminate for hours at a time. I’m so saddled with sadness and hopelessness sometimes that even taking a shower becomes a chore.

Even though we differ in what we can deliver, I dream, too. I dream of a life of independence, actively doing something I’m passionate about, being in that magical place everyone talks about where it doesn’t even feel like work. Pawan Dhingra makes a significant point in the documentary when discussing the specter of Indian “tiger parents” that the feature supposedly spotlights. What’s the difference between these parents, and those who enroll their students in sports at such a young age? At some point, he says, the child develops their own intrinsic motivation to achieve, falling in sync with their parents. He says not to underestimate the drive of the children themselves; ultimately, they are the ones taking on the work.

I am like them. I was thrust into a competition against my own mind that I didn’t ask for, but now I’m intrinsically motivated to make the most out of it. I’m doing the work, as much as I can. I’m taking my pills, walks when I can, speaking to my psychiatrist and therapist regularly. Getting myself involved in some writing and publishing work with Community Works Institute, recently having been made the associate editor of Community Works Journal, thank you very much.

Where do I go from here? Well, I did get a job that I will start soon. AmeriCorps, helping to tutor basic literacy to children who are a few grade levels below in reading. These children have decidedly different life circumstances than those of the cohort of Indian Americans profiled in Spelling The Dream. It’s interesting how clearly vocabulary can depict inequality in America. Those who can’t make out the difference between a noun and a verb, and the winners of the National Spelling Bee. Mental illness is a gruesome exercise, but I believe, in my heart of hearts, it has allowed me to see things differently. I’ve directed my incessant, anxious, near-constant stream of thinking to the problems of society, and my role in it. What I’ve come to at the age of twenty-four is this.

No dream matters inherently more than another. Why, exactly, is winning the National Spelling Bee better than reading at grade level? It’s not. Suggesting hierarchy ignores a plethora of factors outside of anyone’s control. So my own dream of managing my mental illness, and achieving a life of independence? Well, that’s perfectly alright with me. And the mini-dreams I tie with the children I will work with, to read on grade level? Those are exemplary goals too. In fact, I would consider this work a central aspect of managing my mental illness. It will give me a sense of purpose, an outlet to escape my own, desperately individualizing mind. Maybe, then, I don’t want to achieve a life of thrilling independence, but rather, utter dependence on each other to make all of our dreams come true.

…

You can connect with Nathan Reddy at: reddy.nathansri@gmail.com.

If you’d like to contribute a Cultural Perspectives guest post, please reach out! jd@crushingthemyth.com

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— JD, founder, Crushing The Myth

(original post dated May 11, 2021)

Penelope Hsu is a board certified, pediatrician and certified professional coach. Her niche is supporting Asian American professionals to develop their unique leadership style amidst the background of cultural and societal pressures.

As a first-generation Asian American suffering for years under the constraints of society, medical and Asian cultures, she fought her way to her own path of happiness, success and peace.   She now uses her 18 years as a clinician as well as the coaching training she has received to explore her client’s needs deeply and create life changing, transformational experiences for them and their careers.

In medicine, we acknowledge 5 stages of grief.  While this theory of behavior was originally applied to people facing their mortality, I feel like I’m definitely grieving for my AAPI community as the attacks against us escalate. I’ve been trying to put my volatile emotions into a coherent story, but that clarity eludes me. Instead, I’m just going to share the ramblings of my mind and the few steps I’ve started to implement. 

DENIAL

When COVID first started to spread in NY in March 2020, there were rumblings that the virus came from China. The CDC guidance was to screen people by asking if they had traveled from China in the last 14 days. Aside from starting in Mainland China, though, there didn’t seem to be any other known connections to anything Asian or Chinese. 

So when I started hearing about Chinese pharmacies and restaurants being vandalized in NYC’s Chinatown, I thought they were random acts of violence. Why would anyone target a pharmacy in Chinatown? They were 6000 miles away from China and these businesses had been Chinatown staples for years; clearly the owners and workers were based in NYC. 

In my own day to day, I was able to live in denial about any hatred against Asians for months as I donned scrubs every day to go to work. People were clapping at 7pm for me, surely they couldn’t also hate me at the same time? The uptick in violence that I saw on the news didn’t really affect me directly, so I didn’t do anything about it.  I’m not saying it was right, but I will say it was the easier road to take.

ANGER

As the year went on, though, and the anti-Asian sentiment and attacks against our community grew, my anger also grew.

I was angry at every deviant who thought they could push us onto subway tracks or hit us with umbrellas. I was angry that people were so easily brainwashed by one loud White Male with a megaphone. I admit to being slightly angry that Olivia Munn was suddenly so Asian. 

I am still angry that, like our BLM brethren, we have been experiencing these attacks and no one has been listening. Last year, I told colleagues of my patient’s mom who was beaten on a bus in broad daylight by a pack of teenagers. They said they couldn’t believe it. I am angry that, one year later, they probably now can.

Lastly, I am angry at myself that I thought I could avoid any of this. 

BARGAINING 

There have been times this past year that I’ve thought, Couldn’t we go hide behind the model minority myth again and be the ‘good minorities who didn’t cause trouble’? Couldn’t I remind people that so many of the healthcare workers fighting this disease were Asian? Couldn’t the media EVER highlight all the amazing technology and science championed by Asians that were helping millions of people? I wanted us to be either fully seen and appreciated or not seen at all.

Oh, to bargain for our safety by parading our achievement and accolades. To actually buy into systemic racism as an illusion of safety. It’s a terrible bargain to make.  If we hide behind the model minority myth, we choose our invisibility. If we don’t, we risk being seen as ‘just another minority’ and facing hate head on.  It’s a Faustian bargain, of course, that yields no actual win.

DEPRESSION 

My heart broke at the image of the Asian Grandma who was bloodied but ultimately not bullied by her perpetrator. I truly don’t even know how to process someone getting hit in the head by a hammer. As the attacks continue and become more and more gruesome, I feel the despair of just accepting that this has become our reality. 

NY has been reopening slowly since the vaccines starting rolling out in early 2021. And yet I have no joyful anticipation of re-entering all the places that I used to revel in. I honestly don’t see my life changing too much when NY opens. I will still stay in the safety of my home, avoiding any possibility of being spit on, kicked in the stomach, or stomped on. 

Anyone who knows me knows how much NY is part of my identity. To willingly choose to let life pass by in front of me out of fear literally drives my soul to the deepest depths of depression.

ACCEPTANCE  

When Covid first started, no one at work checked in with me after any anti-Asian attack was reported. After the Atlanta attack, though, 3 of my white colleagues wanted to have a frank discussion with me about the issue. The look of surprise when I shared that the group furthest below the poverty line in NYC was Asian-Americans, showed me that the lightbulbs were going on. Explaining how the model minority myth precluded our community from being offered health, educational, and employment assistance, proved to be news to a colleague who had lived his whole life in Brooklyn.

I’ve attended so many forums since this all started and the simplest call of action has been to share our stories. And I think that’s right. I felt good that I had brought a nugget of information and education to a few people who would never have otherwise known the depth of our struggle. I vow to continue to do so going forward.

So yeah, I still feel all these things, often cycling through them all within the span of a few hours. And while I continue to process these stages, I will lean ever further into that which grounds and powers me-my faith and my purpose. I trust that God has strength for me when I don’t have it myself. I know in my soul I am called to help others during this time. And in so doing, I pray that my own healing from this overwhelming grief will come as well. Thanks for reading.

…

You can connect with Dr Hsu at penelope@guidingclarity.com or at drpenelopehsu.com. She can also be found on all social media platforms @drpenelopehsu

If you’d like to contribute a Cultural Perspectives guest post, please reach out! jd@crushingthemyth.com

And, please share if you enjoyed this week’s Cultural Perspectives post:

Share Crushing The Myth

We appreciate you.

— JD, founder, Crushing The Myth

Dave Liu is a 30-year veteran of Wall Street and Silicon Valley. He is an advisor, author, entrepreneur, investor, and philanthropist.

He was Managing Director and Co-Head of the Digital Media and Internet investment banking group at Jefferies where he worked on over $15 billion of transactions for hundreds of companies including Microsoft, Google, Yahoo, and Yelp. 

After retiring from Wall Street, he became an entrepreneur and started four companies in technology, merchant banking, asset management, and media. He is CEO advisor and investor to multiple companies, several of which have reached multi-billion dollar valuations including Internet Brands WebMD, MobilityWare, FIGS, and Vobile. He is involved in the entertainment industry with investments in Stampede and TEG+, and consumer with Philz Coffee and Francesca’s. He was previously CEO advisor to ProSiebenSat.1 Media, one of the largest media companies in Europe.

Dave is also a perspiring artist and writer who loves to draw and write funny. He has multiple certifications in creative and satirical writing as well as screenwriting. He publishes a career advice column called Breaking Bamboo, and a cartoon series called The ABC Life. He wrote a humorous career book called The Way of the Wall Street Warrior: Conquer the Corporate Game Using Tips, Tricks, and Smartcuts which was published by Wiley and was cited by Bloomberg as one of the Best Books of 2021. It achieved bestseller status with Porchlight Book Company and Amazon where it was a Top 10 Best Seller in business finance. It was ranked by Amazon as the Top #1 Hot New Release in two categories: business finance and economics. He wrote the book to help underrepresented communities achieve their career goals and pledged 100% of his net proceeds to charity.

Dave completed the Management & Technology Program at the University of Pennsylvania where he received a BS in Engineering and a BS in Economics from the Wharton School. He also attended Harvard Business School where he received his MBA. He currently serves on the Executive Board of the Management & Technology Program at the University of Pennsylvania and on the Trust Advisory Committee of Tau Beta Pi, the oldest national engineering honor society. He is also Chairman of the Philanthropic Advisory Council of Smile Train, the largest cleft-focused organization. Finally, he is Vice Chairman of AsAmNews, one of the top news sites for Asian America.

Dave can be reached at his website, www.Liucrative.com.

Q: Tell us a little about Reel8. What is it and what inspired you to start it?

I co-founded Reel8 with Fred Hsu because I realized that I could use technology to help Asian filmmakers who are underrepresented in Hollywood. I’ve been involved in the technology industry for over 20 years and witnessed the power of blockchain technology in creating communities and monetizing the work of artists.Concurrently, despite the success of Shang-Chi and Crazy Rich Asians, I continued to see Asian filmmakers struggle to get their ideas financed and distributed using traditional entertainment channels. 

I realized that Web3 and NFTs could help solve this problem by bringing capital and audience directly to Asian filmmakers and their work. We could build a community where fans could financially support filmmakers and enable them to create more works of art.

From this idea came Reel8, an NFT marketplace for exclusive film moments. We allow fans to collect exclusive behind the scenes and directors cut film moments. We will also launch with other unique experiences that allow fans to get even closer to the films and filmmakers they love.

Q: What other comparables are out there similar to Reel8? What do you hope to accomplish with Reel8? 

There really aren’t any. There are a few companies attempting to create communities to develop films but no one is doing exactly what we are doing. Our goal is to help filmmakers monetize their existing intellectual property and form communities of fans around these films.

Reel8’s mission is to disrupt the traditional system by enabling fans to connect directly with creators. They do this by collecting favorite movie moments, accessing unique experiences, and supporting their favorite, oftentimes underrepresented, filmmaker artists. Our mission is to help underrepresented filmmakers with financing and distribution of their art through NFTs and fulfill the promise of Web3 and the creator economy.

My long-term hope is to build the largest community of fans of Asian filmmakers who love and support the creation of these films. Perhaps one day Reel8 can be a way for Asian filmmakers to finance and distribute their films without the need for studios or middlemen.

Q: There's a growing space amongst Asian American creators and fans. How does Reel8 work with or integrate into the Asian American community?

Our goal is to identify and work with Asian filmmakers who have existing IP and wish to monetize their work in addition to the traditional theatrical, DVD, and OTT windows. We want to work with Asian filmmakers who have created an amazing work of art with an existing or growing fan base. 

We can launch NFT campaigns for films the same day they are released or we can take films that have already been released and re-energize their fan base. Some of our inaugural campaigns are for films that are still available for viewing today as well as films that were released almost a decade ago. 

For fans, Reel8 will allow them to get closer to the films they love by giving them unique access to experiences related to the film. A purchaser of our NFTs will not only get unique artwork but also access to never before seen footage, interaction with the film creators, potential to win merchandise and other unique souvenirs, as well as become part of a community that truly loves Asian film and their creators. In addition, we have some new metaverse experiences which we can’t wait to unveil - all for the super fan.

Finally, Reel8 is contributing 50% of its company profits towards the creation of a Community Fund which will be used to support films by Asian filmmakers that the Reel8 community wishes to become reality. We will use these proceeds to assist film projects that are still in the developmental stage and form the basis of a community that helps filmmakers reduce their dependence on studios and traditional channels.

Q: In 2022, it's safe to say that Asian American filmmakers are seeing more and more opportunities, especially if compared to 10 or 20 years ago. Do you think there's enough progress being made in regards to Asian American creators and fans?

I think we are making strides but not as quickly or as broad based as I would like. 

We are definitely seeing more films with Asian faces in the lead roles but these films are largely based on Asian stories where the lead must be Asian for effective storytelling. 

In addition, when raising capital for their films, many Asian American filmmakers still face headwinds when casting Asians in lead roles. Even in 2022, many traditional studio executives voice their preference to finance films with Caucasian leads. This tells me we still have a lot of work to do.

On a philosophical level, I believe that achieving more Asian representation on film is imperative because we are still viewed as foreigners in our home country. We are still subject to hate crimes and rarely included in discussions regarding diversity, equity, and inclusion in the workforce. One way to ameliorate this problem is to have broader representation of Asian faces in the media so that we are viewed as truly American. 

In cinema, I believe this can only be achieved when Asian faces are chosen for lead roles that were historically reserved for non-Asian faces. We still have a long way to go but our goal should be such that Asian faces are so pervasive in American culture that we are not viewed as the “other.” 

Q: Tell us a little about yourself. What's your background and how is it relevant to Reel8 (if it is)?

Reel8 is the culmination of many of my life experiences and my desire to help the Asian American community. As you can see from my bio, I had a good career starting with breaking the bamboo ceiling and rising to the executive ranks at one of the top U.S. investment banks. After retiring from Wall Street, I became a serial entrepreneur and started companies in tech, asset management, media, and merchant banking, the last of which led to my investment and board roles in multiple billion dollar companies. 

I’ve been blessed with two Chinese American boys and I want them to grow up in a world where they are proud to be Asian American and not feel like outsiders in their own country. As such, there are three key prongs to my activities:

• First, I believe that our community’s power in America will emanate from our economic power. There has been a lot of focus on entrepreneurship but not all of us can be CEO founders like Jerry Yang of Yahoo or Eric Yuan of Zoom. In fact, the vast majority of us work in corporations where we are the minority and rising the corporate ladder is really our only means of building economic power. As such, we need to learn how to break the bamboo ceiling. This is why I wrote my book (The Way of the Wall Street Warrior: Conquer the Corporate Game Using Tips, Tricks, and Smartcuts) to help underrepresented communities rise to the executive suite. I’ve had a blast sharing career tactics with Asian Americans at top schools, such as University of Pennsylvania and Harvard University, and professional organizations such as NAAAP and LEAP. My book was published only a few months ago but the messages of thanks from young Asian Americans who used some of my tactics to get that job, pay raise, or promotion, really warms my heart and shows me that my work in this area is bearing fruit.

• Second, I believe in the power of news to influence policy in America. As such, I joined AsAmNews.com, one of the leading Asian American news sites, as Vice Chairman and lead donor. We are a non-profit organization with volunteer Asian American journalists who write news that matters to our community. We report issues that are typically ignored by mainstream news organizations. I have very big aspirations for the site and believe this is my way to help drive discussion and spotlight on major issues affecting Asian Americans.

• Third, I believe that we need more Asian faces and voices in entertainment so that perhaps one day we are no longer viewed as the “other.” I have historically focused on supporting TV, film and live entertainment production companies such as Stampede and TEG+, both production companies with majority or sole founders of Asian descent. Reel8 is the next evolution of my efforts in this area. By helping Asian filmmakers raise funding and build an audience from their work, I believe we will see more content with Asian faces and voices in mainstream American media.

Q: Last question. Can you explain the NFT? And why are NFTs the way to go for Reel8?

The technical definition of an NFT, or non-fungible token, is a unique unit of data employing technology that allows digital content—from videos to songs to images—to become logged and authenticated on cryptocurrency blockchains, primarily Ethereum.

For most people, NFTs signify nothing more than a picture. However, this is truly just the tip of the iceberg. Just like YouTube was built on cat videos and evolved into a major source of content and distribution, I believe that we are at the nascent stages of NFTs fulfilling the promise of creating communities around creators. At their essence, they are algorithms whose function is only limited by the creator’s imagination. 

At Reel8, we will take the traditional NFT a step further. We will not only have pictures but also access to unique content and community through the various experiences I cited earlier. In addition, we will create decentralized organizations that will empower fans and bring them closer than ever to the art. All of this is only possible with NFTs.

We are excited to share what we are doing and will be unveiling our first film NFT campaigns soon. If you want to keep up to date on our progress, you can register at www.Reel8.com.

…

You can connect with Dave at his website: www.Liucrative.com.

If you’d like to contribute a Cultural Perspectives guest post, please reach out! jd@crushingthemyth.com

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— JD, founder, Crushing The Myth

Simmone is a stand up comedian, writer, speaker, and activist by night. By day, she works as a management consultant for a Law Firm and Global Peace Movement. One day soon, she hopes to pursue comedy and the arts full time. She is currently writing her first autobiography and spreading her comedy special, "Once You Go Asian..." across the Hawaiian Islands.

Simmone was a survivor of a violent assault at gunpoint in 2015, where she turned the tables and not only fought off her attacker but robbed him. Fraught with PTSD, she wouldn't stay longer than 3-4 months in any city out of fear for her survival. Until Hawai'i! Simmone has found peace and feels safe in Hawai'i and has undergone immense therapy and healing from her life trauma. Her dream is to open a retreat on the big island of Hawai'i, where she can help North Korean defectors heal from their trauma before entering into the real world. 

I write this whilst sitting on a plane hovering somewhere along the vast Pacific Ocean, on an early morning flight from Phoenix to Honolulu. I am sitting next to Nanette, a lovely wahine from Lana’i island. Before takeoff, we spoke pretty openly about trauma, life, love, comedy, the Islands and more. We realize we have a mutual acquaintance. We were 20 minutes into our conversation before it was revealed that I wasn’t from Hawai’i… I was Canadian. She was shocked! “You look like one local girl.”

I feel lucky to live in Hawai’i for obvious reasons. The sun, the sea, the sand… the aloha! I am often brought to tears by the sheer natural beauty that surrounds me. Yet the main reason I love Hawai’i so much is because I fit in. I feel like I belong.

English-speaking Asians are the norm here and since most people are a mix of multiple ethnicities, everyone jokes about EVERY ethnicity and nobody seems to take it personally.

Growing up in Canada, that was not my experience. To me, racism was a part of my everyday existence. I was born in Toronto to a North Korean immigrant father and a South Korean immigrant mother. People think Canadians are so polite…could there really be racism in Canada? But I can attest, for me growing up, racism was real. And it wasn’t even just the micro-aggressions of pulling on their eyes, or saying “lei ho ma”, “konichiwa” or “Ching chang chong”. Blatant racism was commonplace… the most prevalent experience being when three men showed up at my 11th birthday party dressed in full-KKK regalia. They didn’t like that an “Asian” family was taking over a business in their neighborhood. My father, a 5th Degree Black belt in Tae Kwon Do, promptly went outside and beat the crap out of the three men.

Over the course of the next 5+ years, my father made it his mission to win their trust, become their mentor, and succeeded in getting them to abandon their Neo-Nazi viewpoints in favor of Christianity. As if converting Skinheads to Christianity wasn’t the most Korean thing you’ve ever heard. But that was just the way my father was… always wanting to help, lending out money we didn’t have, desperate to make a difference in people’s lives.

I found my high school journal a few years ago and read an entry when I was 16 years old where one of my tormentors apologized to me for being a Skinhead. He would tell me stories of how cool my father was. I guess this goes to prove that racism in Canada is exactly like racism in the United States… except in Canada you get an apology after the hate crime (“sorryyyyyy”).

After my 11th birthday, in lieu of rose colored glasses, mine were colored with the lens of racism.  Whenever something I didn’t like would happen, surely it was because they were racist and they didn’t like the yellow color of my skin or my slanted eyes or my breath that exuded a faint stink of kimchi. For a long time, I would remain stuck in the pain and dwell on what hurt me, I suppose because the default to operating from a place of hurt was just easier to bear.

When you experience traumatic encounters involving white supremacy, definitely go to university in Germany. Worst idea ever. In Berlin, I was spit on and had beer thrown at me by Neo-Nazi Skinheads on the U-Bahn. I was dating a blond-haired blue-eyed German named Max, and we would have old men physically run into us while walking down the streets of Kreuzberg, just to break us apart. Oh how I made things difficult for myself… I was a salmon swimming upstream right into the bear's mouth. A little ironic that the Coat of Arms symbol of Berlin is a black bear.

Growing up, I didn’t want to be white. No way, those were the oppressors. No banana or Twinkie here. Nope, if they hated me because I wasn’t white, then I was dying to prove them wrong. Show them I am just as good as them. To some degree, that’s the Asian way. Always something to prove, and often to people who don’t matter.

I consider myself to be extremely fortunate. I have always been afforded the ability to travel extensively, live in other countries, and experience all that the world has to offer. And in every country I’ve traveled to or lived in (a lady never tells her number but I would assume it’s around 50), I always got along with the locals. I would try very hard to make myself relatable enough to connect with, and be accepted by, the locals. Whether that was through the genuine adoration of the food, music, or dance, learning the language and specific slang, or otherwise, I would find a way to connect on a deeper level. But it took an incredible amount of energy and effort.

Hawaii is the first place in the world where I don’t have to do anything and I feel like I belong. In Canada it is “but where are you REALLY from”. I know most of you reading this have been asked that, and probably on more than one occasion. Despite being born in Toronto, I still feel I am not Canadian enough for Canada, whatever that means. In Asia, my inability to articulate and emulate Asian words as well as I can German ones, get me a combination “tsk tsk” and stink eye of disappointment. Nope, I was not Asian enough for Asia. But in Hawaii. Oh, in Hawaii, there are Hawaiians, Tongas, Samoans, Filipinos, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, Laotian, Tahitian, New Zealanders, Micronesians, mixed with European and Black, and more. We have everything here and that means that a lot of people kinda look… like me.

I merely have to exist and people think I am local. Actually, it is when I open my mouth and speak that locals get suspicious. I guess I let the cat “oot” the “beg” and my Canadian accent gives me away. This is the first time in my life that people think I am one of them, without having to do a single thing. And strangely, there is no other feeling like it… Acceptance. Belonging. Aloha. Love.

Hawaii is the first place I have felt safe and had the freedom to be my TRUE self in a long time, maybe even my entire life. Asians typically keep their cards close to their chest and do not air their dirty laundry, yet I made the decision to reveal a lot of my personal life and trauma in my first comedy special entitled “Once You Go Asian…”. I air my dirty laundry on stage for anyone to hear!

While some may consider it a risky move to expose yourself in such a small community, I choose to put it all out there. Why? Because when I can joke about my past and the things that hurt me, that means I am finally getting over it. I used to be so scared to reveal myself to the world because I was ashamed and thought people would judge me. In Korea, there is a saying similar to “You are not who you think you are, you are who others say you are”. By putting it all out there, no one can ever hold me hostage by the details of my own existence. I believe that if people can accept me as I am, not as I purport to be, then I am truly free. I now know that if people will judge me because of my past, it is because they are the ones who are unhealed.

I wasted so much of my life trying to prove to white people that I was just as good as them and I refuse to waste another second doing that. I am proud to be Asian and proud of my scars because it has produced one strong human. In my life, I have experienced hate crimes, rape, an assault at gunpoint, attempted molestation when I was a teenager from a boss 50 years my senior, and everything in between. My hope is that my openness will encourage other Asians to let go of their past, take their mental health seriously, and open up about the things that they feel are too shameful or dark to reveal. That is when we can start to heal.

And the best part is, the more you do it, the easier it gets!

Lastly, the onslaught of Asian hate seen on the mainland hasn’t made its way to Hawaii and I doubt it ever will. If ONE elderly Asian, or Kupuna, was pushed to their death, beat up, lit on fire, or any of the other horrid things I hear in the news… there would be hell to pay.

In Hawaii, we stick together.

In Hawaii, we stand up for one another.

In Hawaii, I feel safe for the first time in my life.

And if that ain't luck, I don’t know what is.

…

You can connect with Simmone at simmone.park@gmail.com or follow her journey on Instagram @sparkthepower

If you’d like to contribute a Cultural Perspectives guest post, please reach out! jd@crushingthemyth.com

And, please share if you enjoyed this week’s Cultural Perspectives post:

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— JD, founder, Crushing The Myth

Tanny is a writer, storyteller, and producer. She is currently the Associate Producer on the documentary, “The Psalm of Howard Thurman”,  an assistant producer for the podcast “Finding Humanity”, and has a new Blog, “Still Breathing” on Substack.

Tanny is an active member of the Thai American community in Los Angeles and is the treasurer for the Thai American Chamber of Commerce of  California . As a graduate of Harvard University , Divinity School in Buddhist Studies, she started a monthly Buddhist Film Series and the first HDS Film Festival. She currently works at the crossroads of multiple disciplines and is always finding innovative ways to share stories. 

I woke up to an email alert. It was from a journalist who interviewed me for a widely distributed publication, notifying me that the article I was interviewed for just published online. Excited, I clicked on the link to read. The story was mostly about the recent attacks on AAPIs and the uptick in Anti Asian hate. It also highlights the tragic killing of Michelle Go, who was pushed onto the track of New York Subway. After reading for about 2 minutes I finally see my name and I was surprised and disappointed.

When the journalist initially reached out to interview me, I was not enthusiastic. I figured that the interview would be like every other interview I ever gave. They would want to know about the incident, and how the incident disrupted my life. All great questions if I was victimized recently. Now, more than two years since the incident, the thought of a journalist approaching me with the same questioning felt reductive to my whole journey since.

Despite how I felt, I went ahead and said yes. I started to see this as an opportunity to practice telling my truth in the moment. I thought that no matter how the journalist approached the interview, I was going to just be honest. As it turned out, the interview went really well, in my opinion. The journalist did not treat me like a scared victim, he did not ask leading questions. He gave me room to answer as honestly as I wanted. So when I read the article he wrote, I was really disappointed when I saw how generic he painted met.

The article did not include most of the interview, and after reading the full article, I can see how my story does not quite fit into the narrative he was writing. Regardless, the little that was mentioned about me was really wrong. The article made it seem like I was still “shaken” by the incident. The exact thing that I did not what to happen, happened! The interview started off with the journalist asking me how I was doing. To which I answered, “I’m doing well.” The conversation continued and then he asked me something about how the incident changed me. I took a breath and a moment to think about the question. I thought about how if asked a year earlier my answer would’ve been very different. After 30 seconds, I answered something like:

“I see more humanity in others. Coming face to face with someone verbally assaulting me, gave me the chance to actually see his fears and how similar we really are. That prior, when I would hear about other people’s incident they were faceless and I could be much more black and white with my thoughts. Only seeing the good guy versus the bad guy. In some ways this has gave me the opportunity to see someone like the man who verbally assaulted me as a human being who also was hurt and scared.”

I went on to talk about how my upbringing as a Thai American Buddhist shaped my views and how continuing to focus on the hero vs. evil narrative does nothing good for marginalized communities or America. And what we really need to do is to recognize the humanity in each other and allow room for redemption. Allow opportunities for people to do better. I went on to explain that by no means am I dismissing perpetrators, but merely saying that once they pay their dues we need to give them room and grace to do better if they wish to. None of which made it into the article. I mention the interview conversation only to illustrate that the media often only provide a reductive version of the people they interview and that there’s always more to the story.

My concern isn’t isolated to just this article and that is why I won’t provide the name of the publication or the journalist. At the end of the day a small print of my name isn’t going to get that much attention and no one will really even remember. My concern is how media can so shape how people perceive a person. The wording he used to describe me gives the impression that I’m still scared, or shaken. And if your only reference of me is the article, you may perceive me as still traumatized. There is a tradition of creative narratives that makes one community heroes and another community criminals. Too that I don’t blame journalists for the continued stereotyping of people. I respect journalists, and I can only imagine the competitive nature of their business. And Now with the internet and click bates changing the business of journalism, it feels like there is a tight strangle on the kinds of human stories they can tell.

Today I have great concerns because, unfortunately due to the rise in Asian hate crimes, AAPIs are gaining the attention from media and politicians. We are part of the public conversations and considerations. As we continue to speak up, there will be more request from media for an interview. And I fear that if there are not more stories about our whole human experiences out there that, Asian Americans will continue to be seen only as one dimensional stereotypes that keeps other people from connecting with our humanity.

Normally, I would have let my disappointment just be and dismiss the misleading statement as being minor. With so much at stake for the AAPI community, I felt a responsibility to speak up, so I emailed the journalist back. I let him know my appreciation in his efforts to give attention to issues surrounding Asian Americans and asked him what it was about the interview with me that gave him the impression that I was still “shaken”. The journalist was gracious and acknowledged that he knew I wasn’t still shaken and that the misleading statement was due to editing. In any case, I offered some words…not out of anger, but in hopes that the next time there’s an opportunity to write about human beings that they don’t let editing get in the way of that person’s truth.

…

You can connect with her at Tannyrj@gmail.com and read more of her work:

If you’d like to contribute a Cultural Perspectives guest post, please reach out! jd@crushingthemyth.com

And, please share if you enjoyed this week’s Cultural Perspectives post:

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— JD, founder, Crushing The Myth