No 20 — Vinh L.

Our Selves, As Humans

Read time: 19 minutes.
Interviewed October 13, 2020. Published December 29, 2020

My name is Vinh L. I'm an engineer, I have a fiancée, and I'm pretty dedicated to my family and my friends. Those ties are super important to me. Quality over quantity. I'm 39 now, and I've noticed a shift in my mindset over what I would label as important. If it doesn't come down to family or friends, everything else is just extra.

What does home mean to you?

Home is where you're most comfortable. Home is going to be wherever you make it. I think there totally is a difference between a house and a home. A house is just some structure I come back to, whereas a home is where I feel most comfortable. It's a place where I feel safe and where I can be vulnerable. It's got more memories attached to it.

I've lived in a lot of different houses. They've always felt like places I was going to stay at. Now, my house feels different. I think the difference is my mindset. I want to make this my home. I want to set a root down here. I'm going to care about this place that I live at. It's more than a house now, it's a home. It has that emotional connection to it. It's a home with intent.

What does community mean to you?

This is going to sound so cheesy, but community is what makes us bad-ass. Look, you could decide to be fully independent, cut others out, do life on your own. But that would be so limiting. When you have a community, you don't have to do it by yourself. You can lean on each other, you can help each other, you can cry with each other. I don't believe we are made to be isolated, singular people. I think human beings are a social species. Community comes with that.

I feel bad for folks that don't have a strong community. I imagine that way of life would be a lot harder. I'm really fortunate to have good friends and people in my life. I've almost taken that for granted. There was a time I assumed everyone had good friends, but I'm learning that a lot of people don't have the same luxury of that type of community. I feel really sad for them. I look to my community to shoot the shit with, keep it real, enjoy life with. I'd say community helps us be happy.

It helps us grow. It gives us diversity and fresh perspectives and pick us up from the dark times—because if all you've got is yourself, you're running through the same ideas in your head.

You're running through the same questions, giving yourself the same answers, and it's easy to get stuck in a hole. Community should uplift you.

What are you most afraid of right now?

I'm afraid of certain levels of parenthood. Even in this journey of meeting, loving, and marrying my fiancée Loren, I find myself thinking: okay, we're in this together. We're in this for life. Can I be good enough for you? Can I be good enough for the kid? Am I going to be a good enough dad? Am I going to be a good enough husband? Things are good now, but when things goes bad, is it still going to be okay? But that's what love is, right? I'm marrying Loren not just because I love her, but because I know that we can navigate through all of that. I don't know exactly what problem is going to come up, but I know whatever the problem, we'll be able to talk it out. I have confidence in that. I have solace in that, but the self-doubt creeps back on occasion. As confident as you think you are, I think those fears will always be there.

I want to know I'll be good enough to support my family.

That's the scary thing for me. Outside of my relationship with Loren and our coming baby, if I didn't have that, I think I would be wondering if I was good enough for my family. And if that wasn't a concern, I'd probably be wondering if I was good enough for my friends. Fundamentally, I just hope I can hold up my end of the bargain.

What's the happiest moment of your life?

I think life is a series of happy moments, right? Naming one is a bit difficult. I mean, I can think of happiness as a kid—as I'm stalling for other happy memories. But yeah, my oldest brother used to take me to the video arcade in the summer. Once a month we would go, and he'd give me 20 dollars in quarters. To a ten, twelve year old, 20 bucks is a lot of fucking money—and as quarters too? That's a lot of video games. I would always look forward to those weekdays when we would go. I loved that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles arcade game. I played that first level thousands of times. There was one specific day where my best friend and I committed to beating it. We both got 20 bucks. We're not leaving. We're spending all $40 on this and we're going to beat it.

I remember we played for a really long time. At some point, my friend quit. I was so determined, I kept going, and I got to the final boss. My friend had come back around, and childhood Vinh told him, "It's now or never. You have to join." And he did. He put in that last quarter, took one stab at the final boss, and it died. It was amazing. I was so happy. I'm sure on his end, he was thinking, dang what a wasted quarter! But I was so happy we beat that game.

[What turtle do you relate to the most?]

Leonardo has been my favorite. He's the leader and the voice of reason. Leo has always been my guy.

Recently, I’d say a happy moment was finding out we were pregnant—though my reaction was a little delayed. The morning Loren told me she was pregnant, she woke me up early, around 5:00 AM. I can still hear her saying, "Hey! We're pregnant!" And I was like, "Oh!" Super excited reaction, I know. It was so early and I was still waking up, the reaction was so slow. Later on, after I was fully awake, I remember being super happy. I wasn't scared. I was surprised and happy and ready. This is happening. We're going to do this.

What’s the saddest moment of your life?

The easy one is to say—when I found out I wasn't going to marry the person that I had been engaged to the first time. That was just a whole shitty period of life. But one of the things that really stood out to me during that time was, at one point after I was engaged, my mom had pulled me aside and said, "I'm really happy for you. I'm happy you've got someone and that you're going to get married. I'm going to be healthy and ready for my grandkids." At the time, I thought that was so sweet. But later on, when the engagement didn't work out, I just thought, holy shit, that's so sad. I just let my mom down. She's living to be around for the grandkids, and now who knows when that'll happen. That thought dawned on me on a pretty angry, hard night, and it felt awful. I channeled a lot of rage during that time.

But life is amazing. Here I am, with someone I love, and we're about to have that kid. I remember asking my mom early on, you know, if Loren and I don't get married but we have a kid, are you cool with that? She went into a bit, saying, "I'm from a different time. In my time this would never happen. The fact that you two are living together is weird, I wouldn't want it that way, but I get it. Today is different." And then she stopped, hesitated, and said, "But you know, if you brought me home a grandkid, I wouldn't be mad."

[That's great! Your mother is going to be so happy. Are you going to teach your daughter Vietnamese?]

I want to teach her Vietnamese. I already talk to her in the womb in Vietnamese. Loren will try to understand what's going on, she's getting there, but that could also work in my favor. I'm looking forward to my daughter and I plotting and joking in Vietnamese. If my parents are around, I'd love for them to teach her too. I want to make sure she'll be able to communicate with her grandparents.

Who's the most influential person in your life?

Probably my mom. She’s a badass little lady. I think everyone goes through their teenage angst and I was definitely a mean little brat to her growing up. A lot of my tension with my mom in my younger years was always of the narrative that she was an overbearing, controlling woman. Relax, it's okay if I go out, nothing's going to happen, it's going to be fine. I resisted her a lot. But then, I think it was around college time, I realized no matter what I did, she was going to worry anyway. So I might as well not fight her about it. I found a balance of living my life, and realizing she was going to worry about her children because she's a mother. She was allowed to worry. That difference in mindset changed a lot about our relationship.

My mom is a strong woman. She doesn't give up and works hard. She's super caring and looks out for her family. That's probably where I get it from. She showed me that you can suffer a lot and still come out good. She's given me the blueprint of how to love and nurture a family. That blueprint motivates me to be good to my brothers, it motivates me for how I treat Loren and how I'm approaching having this kid. The stories, the discipline, the basics on being a good human being—I get those lessons from my mom.

Have you ever experienced prejudice? And if you have, how so?

I grew up as an Asian kid in a ghetto neighborhood. In the beginning, I'd say race didn't really matter. It's easier when you're kids. “Oh, you ride bikes? I do too—let's hang out!” Over time, as I grew more aware, I started noticing how people would treat each other differently. Even my parents—they were afraid of Black people in our neighborhood. I remember one day I was walking down the street with my mom, walking home, and this Black man walked across from the other side of the street and snatched my mom's necklace. It was so quick. It was so abrupt, we just stood there, shocked. He just kept walking, turned around a few times, and that was it. 

Whether it's prejudice against me, or my prejudices towards others, I'd say yes I've experienced it. Then, going to a predominantly white school in the good part of town, it opened my eyes to realizing there were a lot of white people in the world. I didn't really know any before that. I was the different Asian kid who brought noodles to elementary school. My mom would make these really FOBy-looking sweaters and scarves in the winter and kids would make fun of me for them. Though, I don't think that's prejudice. It's just kids making fun of each other.

Let's see. I mean, I've always gotten the karate jokes, and the "ching chong" jokes. I don't think they were necessarily malicious—well, actually yes, they were. I've gotten a lot of slanty eye jokes. A lot of it always came back down to wanting to fit in. There was a lot of effort in trying to fit in with my classmates, because there weren't a lot of minorities in my elementary school.

One other thing comes to mind—it wasn't me, but my brother, he was at lunch at some restaurant, eating outside, and there was this homeless person who just kept yelling things to my brother. Really racist things, you chink, you gook, what are you doing here, get out of this country, that type of stuff. My brother ignored it for a while, until he couldn't, and eventually turned around and asked him, "Can I help you? Do you have a problem?" The homeless person ended up attacking my brother. My brother was there with his friends, so they ended the fight pretty quickly, but my brother was still super upset about it. The police arrived and I think he pressed charges. That was a pretty extreme case. But for me, it's been nascent racism and prejudice. Oh, you're the Asian guy, you're the good at math guy. It's minor things, but they still add up. In Minnesota, eight of us, including my brothers and cousins, we went to a bar and people actually stopped to stare at us. I remember a man vividly, mid-drink, from a cup tilted 45 degrees, completely stopped and stared. That was back in 2010. I've also been referred to as Oriental. Personally, I haven't understood the derogatory thing about "Oriental"—I will say it's bizarre how outdated the words are that people use. I don't get offended by it. Instead, it's a large indicator that the other person is fairly ignorant. I can laugh things off. I can play along and try to diffuse situations. Ultimately I don't think I've been adversely affected.

[Tangent question: being an Asian male, have you ever experienced any stereotypes about your masculinity?]

I mean, I'll admit it. I'm not a super masculine guy. I'm not a macho guy. If anything, I can't think of a better word, but I'm more of an effeminate dude. I have emotions. I like to cuddle. I like affection. I am by no means bro-y or aggressive. So has that come up when I've talked to girls? Some of them, yeah. Some girls have told me they think I have too much emotion, and they want a more manly man. And that's fine. That ain't me.

I've never been in the online dating scene either. There are statistics about Asian men and Black women having the lowest success rates on those apps. I can't speak for Black women, but regarding Asian men, like Ali Wong says, Asians are dope. They're reliable and responsible. And Ali Wong is right about everything.

Have you ever thought about privilege? How?

Growing up, I didn't know anything about the concept of privilege, but I still totally felt it.

In going to a nicer school in a richer neighborhood, I had to transfer and petition to go there. That in itself was some sort of privilege. These other kids, living in the nice neighborhood next to the nice school, they automatically get to go there. I had to be bused in, and most of the kids on the bus were Mexicans, Blacks and Asians; we felt a little separated. Later on, in college, I remember a peer of mine saw me filling out a FASFA and had no idea what that was. He'd never had to apply for scholarships or grants to pay for his tuition.

As you grow older, and especially as a minority, you start paying more and more attention to all the stories you hear. Discrimination happens everywhere. In business, you see the proof in numbers, with promotions and new hires. Older white men would stick with their own, and hire and promote their own. You have to try harder to stand out, you're already behind. Throughout the years, I've learned the word "privilege". I've always felt it. Especially now, "privilege" is such a big, hot word. It's such a wide umbrella. Economics, jobs, health care, security, food, housing, your social rank. I've thought about my privilege compared to Loren's privilege. One time she was telling me a story about getting pulled over by the cops, and they were cracking jokes with her. The idea of me getting pulled over and joking with cops—what a fantasy! Imagine any minority doing that. It just doesn't happen.

What was one pivotal moment in your life, and how did it influence you?

The first one that comes to mind was during my broken engagement. After months of feeling bad about it and being angry about it and all of that, I had this moment of clarity. I realized, the only reason why this is bothering me is because I'm letting it bother me. I am choosing to think about it. I'm angry because I wanted it to be different. Ergo, if I want less, I'll be fine. If I don't want to think about it, if I don't want to let it get to me, if I don't choose to be angry about this, this will actually start getting better. It's a Buddhist mantra, a lesson my mom had repeatedly told me, that you choose to hurt. Somehow it clicked for me that night.

You have a choice in this. You're going to have moments of suffering in your life, but you can choose to not let it affect you.

Another one was, growing up in an Asian family, my dad always compared me and my brothers to cousins or other family members. It was always, "So-and-so got a 4.0," and, "So-and-so has a house and a car now." I grew up with my dad pushing us that way. It was always a thing. I did okay in school, great. I moved to San Jose to be with him, because he was living by himself, great. I'll go to college and then I'll transfer to another school. I'll get a job so you don't have to pay for me. I'll buy you a new TV so you can feel like you've got material things. But it was never good enough.

"You got a 3.8? Why not a 4.0?" So I tried harder in school. It wasn't enough. "Why are you waiting to get into a university?" So I went to college and graduated, and I did decent, but it wasn't enough. He wanted things, so I bought him a car. Not enough. My dad had always wanted a house, to be a homeowner. So after I finished school and got a job, my parents, my brothers and I pooled our money and we bought a house. It still wasn't enough. "When are you getting your next house?" In a sense, you could see he was just trying to motivate us, but in reality, it was never going to be enough for him.

The life changing thing that came from this was when he asked about the second house, and I realized he was never going to be satisfied. There's nothing that we're going to do that'll make him happy. It finally clicked for me that none of this really matters. He's going to keep changing what he wants, and he's never going to give praise, so eff it. I'm going to stop trying to chase this never-ending dream of pleasing him, and instead I'm going to do what I want to do. I choose to be happy for myself.

Where are you from and how has being from your home shaped who you are today?

I was born in Minnesota. St. Cloud, Minnesota. I lived there for two years, and then my parents said, "Hey, it's too fucking cold." My dad's family was in California, so we went to California. I grew up in Long Beach. I'm a Southern California kid, a poor kid who grew up in the ghetto of east-side Long Beach. I was around crime and violence. I remember during the riots, there was a liquor store and a laundromat two blocks down from us that got lit on fire. You could see huge, giant flames from our front yard. I was terrified.

Growing up in that neighborhood shaped a lot of things. I will say, I never want to be poor again. I never want to live in that kind of neighborhood again. I would never want to raise my kid back there. It's given me a strong drive to provide. I say it jokingly, but I'm absolutely serious—I never want to be poor again. That's my motivation.

I'm remembering another story. I was walking home in my neighborhood, coming around the corner, and it was where all the bad people were at. I would usually cut through an alley or something, but that day I had decided I would just walk through. And that day, a car drove by.

A guy in the car stuck out his hand, and he was holding a water gun. He took aim and shot me, and he got me good, right in the chest.

Then he just rolled up the window and they drove away. I didn't fully grasp why or what had happened. I was in third grade, nine years old.

My mom freaked out after I got home and told them what happened. As I got older, I realized they had been practicing a drive-by on me. A little kid, an easy target. Now I put myself in my mom's shoes, and how fearful she had been, and how determined she was to get us out of there. She managed it four years later, when I was in the seventh grade.

What's one thing that always reminds you of home?

It's super cheesy. As I've grown older and appreciate my culture more, I would say it's having that altar of your ancestors. It's a cup of rice, with sticks of incense in it. There's a bunch of those plates, with fruit out for the ancestors. That's what I think of as home. When I go to my mom's house now, she's a really religious person. In Buddhism, there's a phrase that you say over and over again, and it goes: "Nam Mô A Di Đà Phật". And these enterprising Vietnamese people, they've got these little mini recorders with an MP3 player in there, and it just chants that over and over and over. It plays all night. When I visit my mom, I sleep in the living room with the altar, so it's ingrained in my head. Then going to temple and hearing people chant and read scriptures—it sounds like music, but they're actually reading words. That reminds me at home. Now when I want to relax, I play Buddhist chanting on Spotify.

What's something that you've accomplished that you're proud of?

I found a lady and made a baby.

[That's a good one!]

I mean, I'm joking but also serious. Not everyone is as fortunate to have found their person. Not everyone is as fortunate to have made a child. Some people try to have children for years and it doesn't work out. I'm lucky.

I'm also proud of being a second generation Vietnamese with a college education. My parents didn't get a college education. They worked hard, but they didn't have a ton of education. My dad's family was pretty well off before the communists took everything. My mom's family was pretty poor. They came over here with nothing, and wanted the world for us. I went to college and got an MBA and I did okay. I have a steady income and own a house.

I didn't end up a "bụi đời"—in Vietnamese, it means "dust of life". It refers to those people who go through life, float from here to there without a lot of accomplishments. They just float away. I don't think I'm one of those.

It's weird. In my upbringing, when it comes to the question of "What is happiness?", I think culturally the answer would be money, wealth, and status. Thinking about the bụi đời, maybe they're living their best life. Maybe they're super happy doing what they're doing, moving through life. So why should I doubt that? Is my strong Asian upbringing clashing with another possible version of myself? I could be a free spirit, wandering around somewhere. Food for thought.

What's something about yourself that you don't like talking about?

That's an interesting question. My family is a really, really important thing to me—it's actually one of the most important things to me, but oddly I don't like talking about my family. I'm not sure why. Maybe I don't like highlighting the bad things, or maybe it's just hard for me to talk about them because on paper they don't add up to wealth, status, and riches. It's embarrassing, or sad, that I can't communicate effectively with my parents. If my friends meet them, they can't really communicate with them. I definitely separate my family from everything. It's not often that I bring my friends together with my parents. It's much easier to separate the two. Even thinking about our upcoming baby shower, it's much easier to plan multiple showers than mixing my family and all of our friends. I don't know. I love my family, and maybe it's the language barrier, or the culture barrier, but I don't want my friends to know too much about my family. 

What's one thing that you wish you could share about your culture with the world?

Well, seeing as even a lot of my close friends critique Vietnamese culture and don't think very highly about Vietnamese people—

[Wait. Explain?]

I mean, they're joking, but also not joking. And a stereotype, and honestly a truth, of the bad side of Vietnamese people is they're tacky. They're rude. They do all they can to try and get ahead. A lot of them are driven by wealth. I mean, I've personally been approached and also have heard stories from friends, but it's common for Vietnamese families to ask, "Hey, will you marry my daughter and bring them over to the States?" That's always felt like a gold-digger tactic to me. I will say, some people are genuinely asking because they just want to better their family, better their lives, and they're good people. But then there are those thirsty families who just want to use you to get to America and buy all the materialistic things to show off to their friends back home.

What I'd want to share is, despite all the bad things I just said about Vietnamese people, we are a really resilient and friendly people. Our entire history is war torn, occupied by China for a thousand years and more recently occupied by the French in the early 1900s. We've always been embattled people. Our country has always been in struggle. And despite all of that, I always see consistently cheery Vietnamese people, both here in the States and those back in the motherland. They're happy people. They're friendly. They want to engage with you. They want to help you out. They're warm, they're inviting. I've thought about this a lot. Is it because we've been so war torn? We have to be happy. We have to find something to be happy about. We just have to act happy, because if we give into all the sadness and the hate and the struggle of our country, it's going to be really dire because of our history. Vietnamese people are happy, resilient, and very friendly. That's what I think.

What would people be surprised to know about you outside of everything that we've talked about?

I think it can go one of two ways. One, I'm actually a nice person. I'm not as mean as I make myself out to be. Or two, I actually have a mean side—which is surprising since I’m usually pretty nice. I think... digging deeper, I find myself being meaner to those closest to me. I'm very friendly to the common person. I remember when Loren and I first started dating, I warned her about that part of me. The closer you are to me, the more mean and real I will be. 

How do you feel sharing this stuff?

I think it was fine. Personal questions are personal questions, and sometimes they can be harder to answer, but today was okay. Generally, I really like talking about my feelings, but these felt deeper than that. It felt good. I'm glad for this experience, even the part when I couldn't think of anything and started sharing a random story about Ninja Turtles.

Last question. Can you please reintroduce yourself?

Hi, my name is Vinh L. I apparently love my family and talk about my family, even though I don't like to talk about my family. I enjoyed doing this.