A ramble I am not quite qualified to ramble about
Even Among Us, a game with absolutely no consequences, uses the popular vote.
“Routine” traffic stop
Like clockwork the officer says into his radio, “black male detained.” These words strike you harder than a sucker punch. You ask him why you’re being detained, and he only replies with “for your safety and mine.”
On floating and drowning ducks
After all, suffering creates bonds; just ask anyone who’s psetted in Stud 5 until daybreak.
Whistleblowing and accountability
What if this was a social experiment from the Media Lab? What if Harvard was pranking us?
It’s about thyme
There’s a grand sense of longing that fills me often, but longing for what?
Reflecting on my anti-Asian bias
Maybe we were brainwashed by all those European and American history classes.
Abstractions of emotion
Over the surface of the river, a hint of a rainbow colors the path below my feet. Love’s in the air. Can you taste it?
Can professional development align with social justice?
This feels like guilt. Heavy, smothering guilt that I am not doing enough today, and when I finally find the time tomorrow, it will be too late.
Dilapidated doting
I’m seeing things I hadn’t seen in years since I left the great state of Texas.
The strangest game of duck, duck, goose
If the world were a stage, and if I were to be attacked by a goose on this hypothetical stage, I care not for who the players are. I do however know for a fact that my temporary exit would be akin to “Exit, pursued by a bear.”
The Stonewall Riots and the origins of American gay pride
Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera were two trans women of color that were integral in pushing the gay rights movement forward. They were also important in securing a place for transgender people within the movement, particularly intheir founding of STAR (Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries).
On being the letter ‘Q’
Let’s call this week “the week of self-improvement.”
Welcome to the table
YouTube showed me the answer I had been looking for all these years. I finally felt like I had found the words to describe who I really was.
Life is not a binary string of successes and failures
The me who hopes I become a success story versus the me who wonders when I’ll quit.
A ten-step guide to living in a pandemic
Trauma took away my purpose and certainty. Over the course of last semester, my main goal was to regain a sense of autonomy, which I hoped would give me what I was missing.
Spare me, author
Is there a real Wenbo out there writing my experiences? Would he be separate from me, then?