Learning What 'Community' Means

I’m working through so much grief around the word ‘community’. 

Right now, with our current political climate, with the Iran War and multiple genocides happening, as ICE terrorizes the streets, and access to our basic needs become more and more out of reach, there’s an urgent need to ‘find community’ or ‘be in community’.  That’s how we can survive and even thrive through the collapse of Empire I hear, and I’m definitely feeling that urgency as I’m caring for 2 littles. 

Like - what does it mean and where do I fit?  Do I contribute enough to be a part of a community? How do I interact with a community? How do I find the right one? What does it mean to show up? What does it mean to be in community? Would I be harmful to a community?

For most of my life I’d been fairly disconnected from the greater Vietnamese diasporic communities. What I’m learning through my ongoing healing journey is that I’ve been hungry for community for a long time, even when I rejected it, pre-emptively or otherwise.  Even as white supremacy, patriarchy, and autism convinced me I’m better off alone.  As a mother, though I’m learning to reach out for help, learning to ask…I still find myself trying to do all the things myself because that feeling of shame for relying on others still ravages my gut. Also, if it’s not transactional…how do I track if I’m ‘doing it right’? What's worse is I'm catching myself masking even more post-diagnosis, worried that the wrong social move means further disconnection. The trauma of learned isolation.

This is why I feel so much visceral rage towards colonization.

Growing up I wanted to rebel against my heritage because I thought that all my problems would go away if I’d been white. My parents, Vietnamese refugees, were focused on surviving. They did not have the capacity to walk my brothers and I through life as American-born ‘others’. They got angry when I questioned our traditional practices.  To rebel, I rejected. And, as an autistic child with a deep need to feel valued and integrated, I learned not the important relational skills to be ‘in community’ but the fact that in order to be acknowledged and valued, I needed to be as white as possible, specifically to seek approval from white patriarchy. This played out terribly as you can imagine - and when the Vietnamese and greater AAPI communities invited me in, I sabotaged any potential for connection and belonging.   

I’ve been trying to find my way back, particularly in the DIY music scene here. It’s been hard because a part of me still says “why should they include you? You rejected them!” But I’m feeling a shift. I found a wonderful Vietnamese trauma therapist that I'm about to begin treatment with, but for so long, due to lack of funds, I’ve been DIYing the healing process by making music and playing shows with kindred spirits. And I have to say, it is paying off.  I think it was my friend Katy Otto who offered the idea of drumming as EMDR.  

Last week, we played at Tim’s Tavern in White Center with hi hi hi, Kuwaisiana, and Actress.  Le Vy, the singer/guitarist who is also a mother of two like me, and daughter of Viet refugees, fronting a band with all South East Asian diasporic members. They played these catchy rock songs and when Le Vy’s daughter got up on stage with them I got emotional. In the best way possible. I felt seen.

The show went on with Kuwaisiana, featuring my friend Waseem Sbait on percussion, who I danced with at a Seattle Lebanese restaurant during my long break from music, and I felt so nourished watching them. Kuwaisiana had also played the first Star Matriarch show at Real Art about 3 years ago, so it felt super special to reconnect. 

So by the time we went on, I felt freshly inspired. My new friend Damian saw me crying and expressed concern because I was about to go on!  But I see every Star Matriarch set as an opportunity to be vulnerable and connect, beyond social norms.  And our set did indeed feel especially fiery.

Actress closed the night with songs that masterfully combined themes of sensual pleasure and political resistance. Watching your peers of color speaking their truth is just so beautiful and it doesn't happen as often as I would like.  

On May Day, we played with Trash Panda Go Kart, SkullKat, and Small Yards to raise money for La Resistencia. We didn't raise as much as I'd hoped, and there was some discord with Slice of Life, the venue. The show almost didn't happen. But it did, and my goodness did I feel inspired by the women we played with. When I think of Selena and Zinnia of Trash Panda Go Kart, I think of the political potency of play and magic. They just put out a vinyl EP, you should definitely check it out! They tried to tell me 'it's just silly', but there is so much power in 'silly'. SkullKat was so. so. bad ass. Both of these bands are led by women who, I think, are the same age group as me - elder millennial/gen X - not giving a second thought about who or why or how we're here making noise, we're just gonna fucking do it, full throated.

I'm finally starting to understand what 'community' means.

We have a 2 month break before the next show (July 9 at Delusional Bird w/Toxic Tears and Ponty's Revenge!) and I’m taking short term disability leave again to focus on healing, aka writing songs (and seeing my new therapist of course).  I recently began drum lessons with one of my drum heroes - I’ve been accused in the past of being too much of a name dropper so I won’t name her right now.  But the lessons have provided fresh inspiration, and I’m excited to lean in. I'm finding myself writing drums first again, almost as if drumming is what opens the floodgates to melody, words, and noise. Drumming, the original EMDR. Hoping to have some demos to share before the end of summer.