After examining the novels and poetry that most American students are mandated to read throughout their years of schooling, it is extremely troubling, while painfully apparent, that there is nothing “classic” about educational American literature. The word “classic” has no significance in defining white-washed literature that fails to represent the diversity and history of American society—today and centuries ago. Since elementary school, my favorite hobby was reading all kinds of books: fiction, nonfiction, and everything in between. However, my least favorite subject in school was always English; I dreaded the start of the class and always looked forward to its end. Yet, the majority of the period was usually spent in reading time, so the obvious question is: Why did I despise English class to such a great extent? The simple answer is that we students were forced to read literature that we could not relate to or identify ourselves with. In my South Asian home, we grew up reading R.K. Narayan and Rabindranath Tagore, Indian authors who have written several staples that are shared widely and adored in my culture. In my school, I have to leave behind my cultural identity to read passages upon passages of European colonization in North America, many of which framed gentrification in a positive light for young, impressionable minds to perceive as acceptable. Authors whose literature was not about European pilgrimages, like Edgar Allan Poe and William Shakespeare, were also overread in the classroom. During the poetry unit that annually reoccurs, Poe constantly dominates throughout a student’s career; the countless times that my class has analyzed “The Raven” has reached the extent to which the poem has lost all novelty and meaning to me. Although these authors produced works that shaped the literature following their publications, they only make up a slight portion of an ever-evolving global history. Some may argue that the reason why the English class curriculum is filled with literature written by white men is that these works specifically represented the birth of the United States of America (also known as Turtle Island before the Indigenous land was colonized by Europeans). This argument paints the U.S. in a light that it is a “white” country, which is wholly different from the truth as the U.S. was born from immigrants, many of whom are not white. Additionally, the school-mandated texts written by women and people of color are exactly that: texts written by women and people of color. There are constant themes of oppression and struggles for liberation whenever we read literature from non-white and non-male authors, and although these works are monumental in describing the growth of the U.S., it is all students ever read of. It is disappointing to see that the white male authors we read from had the license to produce literature that discussed philosophy, science, and any topic that sparked creativity, while the pieces produced from all other demographics mainly centered on being free from white men’s standards. A way that this can be amended is if the American education system introduces more minority-written texts into classrooms that discuss American cultural movements, like the Harlem Renaissance, but not when a student is about to graduate high school, rather in their elementary and middle school years too. On the other hand, an effort should be pursued by classrooms to evaluate different cultures and not just repeatedly focus on one specific cultural movement at every grade level; otherwise, this would seem like forced diversity and a lack of sincerity for enriching students’ educations. Alluded to previously, there is also a high amount of ostracization that the American school curriculum provides in English classes. In the above paragraph, when I mentioned the term “people of color,” I mean mainly black people. In a country that has a population of over 18.5 million Asian Americans, it does not do a student’s (Asian-American or not) education justice to not learn about Asian American cultures and their literary impacts on American society. While Asian Americans immigrated to the U.S. decades after the country’s founding, this does not mean they had no responsibility in the birth of U.S.. If students are instructed to read W. B. Yeats, an Irish poet, in English class, they should also read his contemporary Rabindranath Tagore, an Indian poet whose works have been translated to English decades ago. In order for students of all cultures to thrive in their education, it is important that European literature is not a staple in classrooms because it promotes harmful standards both inside and outside a school environment. For example, it took me up until two years ago to realize that all the stories I wrote were always set in the U.S. and never had characters with ethnic names in them. Even though in the majority of my schooling, I’ve been surrounded by peers who share my Asian ethnicity, I never once thought anything of naming all my fictitious characters John or Emma or Sophia or Elizabeth. Although this matter seems trivial, when put into perspective, it reveals how normalized American society has made Eurocentrism to the point where students of color feel like they do not belong in the U.S. nor the country of their ethnic background. Dear The United States Department of Education, As a daughter of immigrants, I do not want to just belong in the country of my birth, I want to feel as if I belong as well. I am sure a myriad of students across the U.S. share my sentiment and would appreciate it if our predecessors’ voices were heard through the literature we read in our English classes. Sincerely, Prerna Kulkarni Editors: Nikki J., Emily X., Claudia L. Cover Photo Source: The Beachcomber

Dear Asian Youth, The term gatekeeping isn’t exactly new to our vocabulary, especially now with social activism and cultural trends becoming increasingly widespread and gatekeepers being a resolute part of it all . To define gatekeeping in an academic manner, it may be described as the act of controlling or limiting a person’s access to an identity, community, or movement. A gatekeeper is an individual, usually more heavily involved in a situation/been involved for a longer period of time, who takes it upon themselves or feels entitled to make decisions regarding whether or not someone else should be “let in” or “included”. Examples of gatekeeping can be seen everywhere. Take the K-pop fandom for example: long-term fans of a specific group may ask new fans complicated, stress-inducing questions about their favorite idols to ensure that they are genuine followers before letting them into the fandom. Certain skateboard gangs often require a certain skill level or specific tricks to be mastered before considering someone a true skater. In theory, gatekeeping makes sense. It might seem unfair or wrong when someone assumes a certain identity or title for performative reasons, when they really are not genuinely invested in or impassioned about the topic at hand. However, certain gatekeepers have become far too extreme with their behaviors, which adversely impacts individuals who wish to pursue their passions, improve their knowledge, or simply feel a sense of belonging. So here are my two cents on gatekeeping and why it bothers me. A couple of weeks ago, I saw a user on Instagram being attacked for speaking up about the #StopAsianHate movement. I couldn’t quite grasp why he was under attack, and when I looked into it further, the reasoning that I got was far from satisfactory. Asian users (amongst others), were complaining about how this user “does not look like someone who would care” and “has never spoken on the issue before”, as he was a white teenage boy living in Europe. Due to his lack of previous involvement in activism and his racial identity, his raising awareness about the problem at the peak of the issue must’ve been “performative” and “for clout”. I understand that performative activism (activism done to increase one’s social capital rather than done out of devotion to a cause) is a problem in and of itself, but something about the attacks on this user did not sit right with me. You never know someone’s intentions and mindset towards a certain subject. As individuals already deeply involved in making strides within the #StopAsianHate movement, your words of discouragement may have hindered an individual genuinely wanting to educate themselves and change their behaviors. It is not our place to deem someone “qualified” or “allowed to” advocate for a cause. The same can be said for general hobbies and interests. Many of my friends have been on the receiving end of gatekeeping, whether it was playing a new video game or participating in a new sport. Those who are already long-time community members often look down upon those who are not as experienced. Most of the time, if someone wants to join in on a cause or start practicing a new hobby, they come with an open mind and a keen sense of interest. The main motivation for their participation is passion. But if we choose to shun those who do not possess as much knowledge and are unwilling to interact with them, we are, dousing their flame. Gatekeepers – because they enjoy the exclusivity and status – there’s nothing inherently wrong with this. But remember that every expert also started as the new kid on the block, exploring something they knew very little about. You have come a long way to build everything you know, how would you feel if someone was there to dishearten you from the start? Would you still be here? Would your passion still remain? To me, toxic gatekeeping is an elitist practice that must be dismantled. It hurts many communities, those within and outside of it too. We must recognize that no one is fully knowledgeable about all topics in the beginning; we all start at the same point of ignorance. The important part is allowing people to be explorative and giving them the opportunity to learn and grow. Our world is imperfect, with many issues still unaddressed. If we become gatekeepers with hostile attitudes toward newcomers wishing to be better-informed, we are halting and even backtracking previous efforts for change. I understand that gatekeepers don’t always have bad intentions; people tend to gatekeep because they are so heavily invested. However, your role is to drive forward greater change instead of stifling new voices. Few burdens are heavy if everyone lifts. Eva Editors: Bri S. Lydia L. Leah C. Simran G. Cover Photo Source: Behance

“Stop Asian Hate.” I take issue with merely saying that slogan. I do not believe that it is somehow a “radical” demand, or that it is reverse racist, or that it makes non-Asians uncomfortable. My problem with “#StopAsianHate” is that it only focuses on the symptoms and ignores the root causes of the issue. It’s basically a command to individuals, not society, to stop the hate. The mass shooting which killed eight people in Georgia left Asian-Americans in shock at how far the hatred had gone. Some protested, demanding an end to this hate. US President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris condemned the hate on the podium and signed the COVID-19 Hate Crimes Act, a law that pledges to address the increase in hate against Asian Americans. Despite these efforts, the amount of hate crimes have almost tripled since the pandemic began. Stop AAPI Hate’s tally of incidents grew from 2,800 at the end of last year, to 3,800 after the Georgia shooting happened, to 6,600 in May and then 9,000 in August. In some places, hate crimes increased by twenty times. Clearly, shouting “Stop Asian Hate” is not enough. Stop Asian Hate: What’s causing anti-Asian hate? “Yellow peril” Though it seems that America is a welcoming place for immigrants, history shows otherwise. Irish immigrants came to the US to escape the potato famine of 1845-1862 and economic opportunites, but instead of acceptance, there was discrimination. “No Irish need apply” appeared in newspapers, in advertisements, and more. Italian immigrants arrived in the US for similar opportunities only to receive name-callings and lynching. Asians, mainly Chinese, also immigrated to the United States for a similar reason to escape opium addiction and the hardships in China as a result of lost wars and colonialism. As Asians took jobs in various fields, earning a living for themselves and their families back home, non-Asians feared that “the Asian ‘horde’ [was] coming for their jobs.” The sentiment eventually evolved into the yellow peril. Asian Americans were portrayed as this “threat” that needed to be stopped. Pamphlets raving against Asian Americans were published in droves, decrying them as an “evil menace” and a bunch of “filthy yellow hordes.” People blamed their so-called “backward cultures” for whatever problems Asians might have exhibited and labelled them as “lazy and entitled” and “job thieves coming for our livelihoods.” Horace Greeley, an orator, even raved, “The Chinese are uncivilized, unclean, and filthy beyond all conception without any of the higher domestic or social relations; lustful and sensual in their dispositions; every female is a prostitute of the basest order.” In the 1870s, America went through an economic depression. Many Americans sought a scapegoat to blame for this downturn and the loss of jobs. They found a viable one: Asians immigrating to America. Front cover of pamphlet, “Some Reasons for Chinese Exclusion; American Manhood against Asiatic Coolieism: Which Shall Survive?” published in 1901 by the American Federation of Labor. The American Federation of Labor, now AFL-CIO, represents labor unions across the United States. Pamphlets like this “justified” the need for Chinese exclusion. This sentiment led to laws like the Chinese Exclusion Act, which banned Chinese immigrants from entering the US or becoming citizens. It was the only such law that banned immigrants on the basis of ethnicity or nationality. The laws were passed despite China’s despair brought by colonialism. These tropes continued to persist, even today. In early 2020 when China detected the first coronavirus cases in Wuhan at the Huanan Seafood Market, some influencers lambasted Chinese people’s “bat- and dog-eating habits” and their “dirtiness.” The media also tagged along, with the Wall Street Journal titling one article, “China is the Real Sick Man of Asia.” Several other media outlets joined, writing, “Chinese virus pandamonium” (last word not misspelled) and “China kids stay home.” Given that most people usually do not read beyond the headline, one can see how the “dirty virus spreader” trope became widespread. Sound familiar? Worse, the same media often portray China in a negative light about the virus, every single day. Sure, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) made some mistakes in the virus handling. But there’s no use endlessly bringing them up as if the CCP did everything wrong. And assuming that you can disconnect the CCP from the Chinese people is incorrect. We saw how anti-Asian hate still rose, even though some people said, “I’m not against the Chinese people, only the CCP.” You cannot separate a country from its people. Stop Asian Hate: Anti-China narratives China’s rapid growth and its rule under a communist party “legitimizes” the new yellow peril. Under the old “yellow peril” of last century, the countries in which Asians immigrated from were colonized and impoverished. Under the new “yellow peril” of this century, China is not under colonial or neocolonial rule but instead, is a sovereign country. China’s growth into one of the largest economies and a global power fueled the new yellow peril. After all, China is projected to surpass the US’s GDP within a few years. Since China is an Asian country that is growing faster than the US under an alternative system of government, it must be suppressed. China, therefore, is portrayed under a biased lens by the media, with mistakes blown out of proportion, accomplishments minimized, and its existence a “threat.” Some examples: China was labeled as a sports machine out to “get golds at any cost” in the 2020 Tokyo Olympics. This label would never apply to any Western country in regards to winning medals. Overseas Chinese STEM students were labeled as part of the “Chinese Communist Party’s efforts to exploit “our universities to spy and steal our technology,” even though no other set of international students receive this label. China’s COVID-19 response was denounced in the Western media. Say what you want about China’s response to COVID, but constantly caricaturing it as some kind of dystopia is not a good way to talk about it. The BBC provides a good example in that it added a greyish filter in its coronavirus coverage in China to boost the “dystopian” narrative. Screenshots by the author of Ian Goodrum’s Twitter tweets on March 17, 2021. Ian Goodrum is a contributing author to People’s World, a left-leaning newspaper and a digital editor of China Daily, a Chinese government-owned media source. The tweet compiles screenshots from media headlines “warning” about the “dangers of China.” Stop Asian Hate: So what’s this smearing over China got to do with anti-Asian hate? “China’s going to steal your jobs!” “China is ruining our way of life!” “China is undermining our national security!” When you hear things like this every day, how does your perception of Asians change? Do you see them as innocents mixed up in all this, or accomplices in China’s “machinations?” Historically, people see the latter. During World War II where Japan was an enemy of the US, Japanese Americans were portrayed as spies and saboteurs regardless of their true loyalties or even birth location, “justifying” their internment from 1942 to 1945. So it is not surprising when people think that Chinese people are accomplices in China’s quest for “world domination.” “When America China-bashes, then Chinese get bashed, and so do those who ‘look Chinese.’ American foreign policy in Asia is American domestic policy for Asians,” Russell Jeung, co-founder of Stop AAPI Hate says. Screenshot from a report titled “How China Threat Narratives Feed Anti-Asian Racism and How to Fight Back” authored by Tobita Chow on June 8, 2021. Tobita Chow is the director of Justice is Global, an affiliate of People’s Action, which is a grassroots organization that advocates for social causes. This report is linked here. Thus, among the various racist lines is the “Chinese virus.” Stop AAPI Hate reported that 30% of incidents contained anti-Chinese rhetoric. After all, you cannot separate a country from its people. Still, phrases like “Chinese virus” are easily condemnable for its overtness. But subtle things like the “China threat” narrative is what truly engrains racism. Like the pyramid of “acceptable and unacceptable” sexism, subtle racism provides a basis for the more overt acts of racism like the “Chinese virus” and physical attacks. Stop Asian Hate: My solution proposals Clearly anti-Asian racism is more ingrained than people would like to admit. However, its prevalence is no excuse to let it run rampant. #StopAAPIHate activists know this, but their movement so far only addresses the outlying symptom: overt racist verbal abuse and physical attacks on Asians. What about the fox-eye trend, the “disgusting” food in Asia, or the consistent negativity of a country an ocean away? Let’s be clear that this article never, ever insinuated that China is perfect or exceptional. China has its own problems and its own way to solve them, and it would rather not have anyone meddle in its affairs. When it comes to media coverage on China (or that of any country), journalists and editors need to read their articles on that country and compare it with their articles on their home countries, and use side-by-side reading to help reduce bias. An example of this is CGTN’s coverage of the For the People Act in the US in how it covered US politics with minimum bias. Instead of dismissively calling a regulation a “crackdown,” consider its context and see why China is enacting it. Maybe they and their readers can learn lessons and gain an understanding of China’s government, its policies, and the latter’s potential effects. Plus, it can improve their local and global credibility. That does not mean you should not criticize China’s government at all. Keep criticizing China, but do it like you’re criticizing your own country’s government. Here’s an example in regards to China’s education reform: “these are some good first steps to address the profiteering of education and student anxiety, but so long as China’s universities rely too much on the gaokao, or China’s college entrance exam, this problem will never truly be solved. Students will end up studying and cramming for the gaokao regardless of whether tutoring companies make money or not.” Though China and many Western countries have different governing systems, it is still crucial to understand why China’s system works for China and why Western systems work for the West, instead of trying to “impose your values.” Even though Chinese media often promote the CCP and its system of governance, it does not try to impose its system around the world. There is a reason why it is called “socialism with Chinese characteristics”: it is tailored to China’s condition. When it comes to cultural racism, it is a bit harder but still possible to combat it. #StopAAPIHate does promote pride in one’s culture (see “I’m proud to be Asian” posters), which is good and something worth crediting for. But in addition to promoting pride in one’s ethnicity, we should also promote the cultures and traditions to other people, too. I interviewed a friend of mine about racism and culture promoting. She said, “I remember my family and I would always go to the Japanese Bon Odori festival every summer in Indianapolis and it was really such a great way for the Japanese community to feel at home here in Indiana. In the recent years, there have been many more non-Asians showing up in traditional kimonos and eating all the food and dancing with us. It was such a beautiful thing to see these people want to be included in just a small part of Japanese culture in a respectful way. I really wish we could reflect that one moment in time back into today’s society.” Since hate and racism originate from a lack of understanding and/or willful ignorance about other ethnicities, non-Asians should make an effort to study the various, diverse cultures in Asia and their religions, traditions, and customs. We should teach people that hate brings the hater nowhere and ultimately hurts themselves more than the victim. On policy, elected officials in the US must accept the reality that China is an equal, not inferior. Of course, China has its human rights problems, but there’s no use in continuously hyping it, especially when the US has human rights problems of its own. I am not a policy expert or a diplomat, but such rhetoric from elected officials still affects people’s perceptions of a people. It is easy to see how anti-China rhetoric turns into anti-Asian racism. I’ll say this again: You cannot separate a country from its people. On education, keep educating yourself and keep advocating for curriculum reform. There are movements out there like Diversify Our Narrative fighting for just that, and some schools have taken steps to include a more diverse history perspective. But there are many schools that have yet to do any of that, and many of the schools that have done that include such history as elective courses, not core courses with AP and IB levels. Including such history as core courses or in the mainstream curriculum not only gives students a way to learn about racism, but also earn high-level credit. And I cannot stress the importance of this enough; as the old saying goes, if someone’s old enough to experience racism, then they’re old enough to learn about it. Stop Asian Hate: Conclusion, and no cold war with China I applaud my compatriots who make efforts to stop Asian hate, tell the Asian American story, spread Asian culture, debunk Asian stereotypes and get more people involved. However, I also urge these compatriots to look at anti-Asian racism just like anti-Black racism: systemic and institutional. Although the current situation is not as bad, it is still pervasive. We also need to challenge media narratives of “China threat” as it plays a large role in rising anti-Asian hate. Since last year’s Black Lives Matter protest, many have called for the US to deeply reflect on its racist past and to make corrections to dismantle systemic racism. However, Stop AAPI Hate has yet to do this for Asian Americans. Though Asian Americans were not enslaved for a quarter millennia, nor leased as convicts and thoroughly segregated, nor imprisoned disproportionate to their population share, anti-Asian racism must be addressed like anti-Black racism, and actions must be taken to dismantle it. The suggested solutions above are some first steps, and there may be more and better ways to address racism. But we must move beyond talking and start walking. Lastly, we must make concerted efforts to resist the US’ push for a cold war with China. China has its problems, but so does the US. War is not a good thing, and the last thing we need in the midst of a global pandemic, worsening economic conditions, already existing discrimination, and irreversible climate change is an unnecessary war with China. It worsens racism at home. It solves no one’s issues. But understanding and cooperation does. Let’s #StopAAPIHate, for real this time. Graphic by Chloe Sun, titled “Asian American Hate: Are we really un-American?” published on HiLite on April 24, 2021. Chloe is a co-editor-in-chief of HiLite Magazine, graphics designer at Rice & Spice Magazine, and graphics manager at Overachiever Magazine. This graphic highlights the prevalence of racism in society and how people get “surprised” when a major hate incident takes place. Biography: Ian Sun is a junior high school student in the Greater Philadelphia area. He serves as the opinion section editor of Radnorite, his school’s newspaper. He enjoys writing, playing piano and percussion, and fiddling with computers. In his free time he enjoys reading up on the news and watching computer-related videos on YouTube. In the future, he aspires to work in a computer science-related industry. You can check out his Radnorite work at https://radnorite.com/staff_name/ian-sun/. Cover Photo Source:

This is the start of a tragic story. In a land amidst the high peaks and valleys, the sound of bells rang through the streets. Voices arose: speaking in familiar tones. As the children rose, the tones we could once trace so well even with eyes closed, began to drown in vowels and jargons that had travelled from the west and in the centre of civilization, it had settled upon its nest. Thus, begins our story. Our mother tongue began to slip away: leaving room for the english language to comfortably colonize our history and pave our way. And so, we narrate this tale in a language that we know but one that we cannot call our own. The elders began speaking broken english, stringing words together to form sentences that they spoke in mixed tones; While the younger ones, we were told- we must learn to speak the language for if we don’t, the rest of the world would forget who we were. We rushed to master the art of speaking and writing in accents foreign to our home, Our own home began to slowly fade away as the language our ancestors spoke was moulded from conversation to mere scriptures that we store. The value of a language somehow became monetary. The highest value held by the English currency; it lured on the pinnacle above us all. The words of the west loomed upon the rest and there we held it until this hierarchy seeped into permanency; our mother tongues- saturated with thick accents that don’t belong to us. Until one day, our native tones were not just forgotten but looked down upon: for broken english was no longer the norm. The language at the pinnacle was the only one to master. The rest became long forgotten dialects buried in sand like seashells on the shore. The waves of the words we speak clashes against it but the language we once called ours remains in quiet isolation, weathers into sediment; until all we have left of it is preserved in traces . Until all we have left of it no longer remains. kriesha pradhan Cover Photo Source: Columbia Daily Spectator

I wish I could say what was hidden behind the view The view of perfectly cut lawns and cookie cutter houses Behind the nice landscaped gardens and the veil of wealth For the suburbs in america signal that we have made it No more living in tight space, cramped conditions No dirt floor house that my grandparents grew up in No chaos of the inner city where my parents grew up Safe, Peaceful, Quiet.. Or so it seems I wish I could say what was hidden behind all that Growing up in a suburban immigrant community Growing up with kids just like myself Asian, middle class, our parents or grandparents immigrants. Everyone living their version of the ‘American Dream’ A nice house, nice car, and the comforts of suburban life. Yet in America, you are always a person of color before anything else. You are a person of color before you are rich You are a person of color before you are smart You are a person of color, before every accomplishment and accolade you may collect The kids in my neighborhood, all in a race to the top Trampling upon one another climbing to nowhere Wishing for a closer proximity to whiteness, our indoctrination almost complete Losing our language, our culture, and homeland A product of trauma Masked behind the middle class privilege The intergenerational trauma of the previous generation Grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, Fleeing war, fleeing poverty, fleeing instability To find a disturbing peace within the land of plenty. A quiet unfamiliar to the chaos of home A quiet unfamiliar to the sounds of war A quiet unfamiliar to the sounds of suffering A quiet that mask A mask that hides The mask of suburbia, Everything is okay, until it’s not. Chris Fong Chew 招偉明 Cover Photo Source: Socks Studio

Dear Asian Youth, My qípáo looks like a red envelope A Lunar New Year’s tradition: The hóngbāo is supposed to symbolize hope It’s passed around for blessings Now it’s tight-fitting, plastered to my chest More suffocating than protective It tells me what is not allowed The night air bites at my exposed fingertips Later, my grandmother’s eyes will linger “Sit up straighter. Are you holding your chopsticks right?” She is ever composed. Proper and Asian like my clothes. I’m sorry, Nai Nai. I’m not. I know I only ever come close When I am quiet in conversations. There are plastic clips in my hair. Here, I feel plastic. - Amber Ting Author’s Note: The first and last lines were written a long time ago, but this poem was recently edited. Cover Photo Source: The Conversation

Weaving its way through bustling streets and honking cars, a fresh melody carried itself through the streets of 1970s Hong Kong. Unlike the usual tunes threading down the road of rushing Fords and jam-packed buses, this tune didn’t match the sharp voices of Cantonese opera, nor did it have the rounded syllables of English pop. This song carried a soft, guitar-based front accompanied by the distinct words of a male Cantonese singer. This man was actor and musician Sam Hui, the founder of one of Hong Kong’s most prolific musical eras: Cantopop of the 1980s and 90s. What is Cantopop? A classic fusion of Eastern and Western-style music, Cantopop is often characterized by a descending baseline and lyrical piano melodies accompanied by guitar and synthesizer. Unlike English lyrics, whose words hold the same meaning no matter what pitch they are sung in, Cantonese lines must be altered to fit the tone of each word. For example, 搬 (bun1, meaning to move, to shift) is read in a high, flat tone, whereas 半 (bun6, meaning half, incomplete) is voiced low and clipped. Nonetheless, early Cantopop artists such as Sam Hui and James Wong have coined “stock phrases” that future singers depend on to structure their melodies. Rise to fame after Hui As Sam Hui’s ‘70s era drew to a close, the 1980s rolled in with a fresh cut of Cantopop musicians who drew from international influences to create the genre’s iconic sound. The next two decades are regarded as the “Golden Era” of Cantonese pop. Cantopop during this time was a solace to the everyday young college student or a comfort to a working parent—most songs covered the mundane yet beautiful elements of urban life in Hong Kong. Romantic ballads, sorrowful numbers, and sentimental tunes dominated the genre. Hacken Lee’s “高妹”, literally translated as “Tall Girl,” is a humorous, upbeat track where Lee confesses his love for his partner and now-wife Emily Lo: one line translates to “I’m not six feet tall, but I will treat you well.” Vivian Chow’s “最愛” (Most Beloved) combined reverb and backing violin with Chow’s wistful vocals to create a dramatic serenade full of dashing lyrics: “I met you for the first time, who has no reverie / Sunset like poetry, sunset like wine…” Notable figures Cantopop runs the gamut of well-known stars, but one circle has been dubbed “the Three Kings and One Queen” (三王一后) for ruling Hong Kong’s music scene in the ‘80s and ‘90s. Danny Chan Pak-Keung (陳百強), Leslie Cheung Kwok-wing (張發宗), Alan Tam Wing-lun (譚詠麟), and Anita Mui Yim-fong (梅艷芳) were revered as pioneers in the Cantopop world for their work in the movie and music industry. Actor, musician, and songwriter Danny Chan is renowned for his deeply sentimental romantic tracks. Gripping titles such as “Misty Rain,” “Tears Dropping for You,” and “Loving You Alone” would earn him numerous accolades. Chan’s iconic voice and impressive vocal range were a token of the early stages of Cantopop’s heydays, and he is regarded as Cantopop’s first true idol. Chan’s notable tracks include “念亲恩” (Remembrance of a Parent’s Love,) “漣漪” (Ripples,) and “一生何求” (Life Expectations). Leslie Cheung was one of the most prolific artists of the time, releasing a string of hit albums in the late ‘80s alongside being an internationally acclaimed actor. He was instrumental in bringing LGBTQ+ representation to the big screen in a then-largely conservative Hong Kong: gay relationships were criminalized until 1991. He starred in the 1997 drama “Happy Together”, a film monumental in Hong Kong for explicitly depicting two gay men in a relationship. Cheung’s well-known songs include “沉默是金” (Silence is Golden), “當年情” (Past Love), and “我” (Myself). Alan Tam’s successful career stretches more than 30 years, and he is still producing music today, having sold over 35 million records and published more than 115 albums. In the late 1980s, Tam received four consecutive IFPI Awards for Most Popular Male Artist. Active on the music scene even prior to his solo career, Tam was part of the Cantonese boyband, The Wynners, whose songs were mostly in English. Anita Mui touched the hearts of many with the story of her harsh upbringing, eventually being given the sobriquet “Mui Jie” (sister Mui). Known for her deep vocal range and flamboyant stage presence, she gained additional international recognition as an actress after starring alongside Jackie Chan in two films. One of the most iconic figures of the Cantopop scene, her career lasted over 21 years until her untimely death due to illness in 2003. Fall out of popularity In a tragic string of events that would leave Hong Kong shaken, three of the aforementioned celebrities would die young due to either illness or suicide. Alan Tam is the only remaining member of the circle, with Mui, Cheung, and Chan becoming nearly deified in their status in Cantonese pop culture. With the deaths of two of its kings and one of its queens, Cantopop slowly fell out of the frenzied height of its popularity. A deficit of new content combined with increasing competition from other Asian pop subgenres—such as K-Pop—led to a steep decline in Cantopop album releases and sales. By the early 2010s, Cantopop’s fanbase had largely receded into an enclave of older residents and some of the Cantonese diaspora. Resurgence amid political turmoil Today, Cantopop has experienced a resurgence after years of fallow production. The Cantonese boyband MIRROR has been credited for reviving the genre, being known as “the new kings of Cantopop” following the deaths of Cheung and Chan. In recent years, thousands of fans have found unity and comfort in MIRROR’s songs amidst months of political turmoil and the COVID-19 pandemic. Conclusion With such a long-stretching history and numerous popular idols, Cantopop was and continues to be a source of cultural celebration and national unity among Hong Kong’s citizens and its diaspora. Cantopop’s legacy will stretch far into the future, as long as its artists continue to produce music. “Canto-Pop Crooner Danny Chan's 7 Most Iconic Songs Remembered.” South China Morning Post, 7 Sept. 2020, https://www.scmp.com/magazines/style/celebrity/article/3100454/cantopop-singer-danny-chans-7-most-iconic-songs. “Cantopop: The Glorious Years.” China Daily HK, https://www.chinadailyhk.com/article/276386#Cantopop:-The-glorious-years. “Cantopop: Why Hong Kong Is Seeking Solace in Local Music.” BBC News, BBC, 11 Aug. 2022, https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-china-60735794. “The Golden Years of Cantopop: Cathay.” Cathay Pacific, https://www.cathaypacific.com/cx/en_US/inspiration/hong-kong/golden-years-cantopop.html. Lee, Adrian. “Opinion: The History of Cantopop Is the History of Hong Kong – and Perhaps Its Grim Future.” The Globe and Mail, The Globe and Mail, 18 Jan. 2023, https://www.theglobeandmail.com/opinion/article-the-history-of-cantopop-is-the-history-of-hong-kong-and-perhaps-its/. Editors: Lang D., Amelia P., Marie H.

Trigger Warning: Relationship, emotional, and physical abuse; self-harm; gaslighting; suicidal ideation, suicidal attempts and romanticization of suicide (relating to fictional characters and plot), non-consented behaviour during BDSM Content Warning: Toxic relationships and behaviors, relationship abuse, blood relating to fictional characters and plot, BDSM Introduction Picture this: A female protagonist experiences a change in her life and suddenly has her world turned upside down when she meets the powerful yet dangerous male protagonist—one too brooding and chiseled to kick in the groin, run, and call the police. What title do you think of when you read this compelling plot? Too broad? How about the fact that the female protagonist is inexperienced, and the male protagonist has deep-seated issues from their past? No, that still doesn’t narrow it down. What about the fact that the male protagonist is not interested in long-term commitments such as marriage? Nope. A love triangle featuring another (more attractive) man that is undeniably more appealing than the main male love interest?… Hmm, there seems to be quite the overlap for a lot of romance titles. To end the guessing game, I’m going to name two titles: 1. Twilight. 2. Fifty Shades of Grey. Whatever your immediate reaction—slow realization, confusion, or abrupt bodily repulsion—they are all valid. These two titles have solidified themselves as bestselling titles both on bookshelves and in the cinema—either as guilty pleasures or as titles deeply ridiculed in pop culture, depending on how much cringe your brain cells are willing to resist, particularly when it comes to the term ‘toxic relationship.’ My initial list of vague yet applicable tropes to multiple titles in the romance genre might bring up an interesting point: many titles in romance fiction share a narrative formula that works to their benefit, as do many storytelling structures. However, Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey are connected by the indulgence of fanfiction with a key difference in the age groups of their targeted audiences. If there was a Venn diagram, the shared section between these two titles would involve a lot, if not all, of the aforementioned tropes—which arguably makes it more interesting why their audiences differ. With Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey as the main case studies (alternatively, the main suspects of literary crime), this piece is going to examine and analyze the following: What would we consider a ‘toxic relationship’ in the context of fiction? What are the criticisms of main romantic couples in fiction targeting teens and fiction targeting adults? How do the criticisms of ‘toxic relationships’ in fiction differ depending on the target audience’s age group? To begin this, we need to have a baseline understanding of ‘toxicity’, what it means and how we use it to talk about pop culture. What is ‘toxic’? Defining ‘toxic’ To some, a song released in 2003 by Britney Spears offers the only meaning of toxic that matters. However, Oxford University Press’s definition is slightly different. According to the press’s webpage ‘Oxford Languages’, ‘toxic’ was the word of the year in 2018. The word is defined as: “The adjective toxic is defined as ‘poisonous’ and first appeared in English in the mid-seventeenth century from the medieval Latin toxicus, meaning ‘poisoned’ or ‘imbued with poison’.” Arguably, it is necessary to understand the definition of ‘toxic’ because it is commonly used to refer to relationships. Additionally, it can help identify the difference between ‘unhealthy relationships’ and ‘toxic relationships’. Toxicity is synonymous with poison, something capable of injuring or killing. Therefore, a ‘toxic relationship’ can be defined as a relationship that isn’t just unhealthy, it is poisoning one or more people and can cause physical, mental, or emotional harm. For the most talked about topics in 2018, Oxford Languages states that “It is the sheer scope of its application, as found by our research, that made toxic the stand-out choice for the Word of the Year title. [...] Our data shows that, along with a 45% rise in the number of times it has been looked up on oxforddictionaries.com, over the last year the word toxic has been used in an array of contexts, both in its literal and more metaphorical senses.” This is evident with their top 10 ‘toxic’ collates in 2018, where ‘masculinity’ and ‘relationship’ were the 2nd and 6th most frequently used words in conjunction with ‘toxic’; “Toxic relationships are not exclusive to the workplace, however, and whether it’s partners, parents, or even politicians, [2018] has seen so much discussion of ‘poisonous’ relationships across our society that ‘relationship’ is the sixth most-seen toxic topic for 2018. [...] With the #MeToo movement putting a cross-industry spotlight on toxic masculinity, and watershed political events like the Brett Kavanaugh Senate judiciary committee hearing sparking international debate, the term toxic masculinity has well and truly taken root in the public consciousness and got people talking in 2018.” This assessment highlights not only how ‘toxic relationships’ have become more of an accessible term for people to identify and label what they see in relationships, but also how events in modern history culturally impact our language. One can imagine why so many people find something toxic in real and fictional relationships—the harm of toxicity can either be instant and overt, or gradual and covert. The latter can appear the most dangerous as it is harder to spot in fictional relationship dynamics, especially for younger audiences that may not have developed enough experience to identify overt and covert signs of toxicity. With this in mind, what do people criticize in teen and adult fiction as examples of toxic behavior and relationships? Criticisms of Popular Teen Media One major pillar of pop culture is Twilight, famously known for its paranormal love triangle. An ordinary girl with extraordinary facial expressions, sparkling blood-suckers seductively playing baseball, and a relationship dynamic that was often more dangerous than immoral thirst. An example of this is when Edward attempts to end his life by exposing his sparkling body to a crowd of humans because he did not want to live without Bella in his life… The immediate red flag here is that Edward is risking and threatening his own well-being because he no longer wanted to live after the break-up. If anyone needs to hear this: no romantic relationship you have in your teen years or onwards that risks your well-being and safety is ever worth keeping long-term. Personally, I believe attaching romantic attraction to life-or-death circumstances is dangerous if normalized. Fiction is fiction. It can take those risks with characters, but people shouldn’t be placed in a similar position in real life. One of the things that Twilight also managed to pioneer is the franchising of fanfiction: turning Wattpad stories into live-action movies with more sequels than green flags. Fifty Shades of Grey exemplifies the indulgence of fanfiction with adult themes, in this case for Twilight; however, it managed to become a book and later a published media phenomenon. We’ll talk more about the Fifty Shades saga later on, but first, we’ll focus on Netflix’s attempts to indulge teen audiences with fantasy, false hope, and falling in love with emotionally-wounded twenty-five-year-old teenagers. One of my favorite online content creators is Kennie J.D., who has a series on her YouTube channel called 'Bad Movies and a Beat' where she talks about bad movies while putting her makeup on. A common theme throughout this series, when Kennie discusses a romance movie for a teen audience, is that there are tropes in teen romance you do not always realize are toxic. In other words, Kennie critiques these 'bad' teen movies for potentially younger audiences to learn red flags from the perspective of someone who was in the same position but is now older. An example of this was when Kennie discusses how they used to be a huge fan of the Twilight saga. Not only that, they used to love the trope of feeling like you are going to die without a person, with Edward trying to end his life as an example. Kennie explains in her video about Twilight: New Moon that, "I would like to call myself a [recovering] toxic romance enthusiast. [...] I loved the second book because of one particularly disturbing element. [...] I was going through puberty and all types of angst. [...] it was so unhealthy and so twisted and just so damaging—and I loved it." Essentially, it was a trope where the female love interest got hurt or died, giving the male love interest a moment to realize his undying love for her. He would be: "Beautifully tortured. A story's a story but when you start to focus so much on that, because I did, you start to kind of idolize this idea that [either] this is an appropriate way to gauge someone's love for you, like would they want to kill themselves if I died [...] this is the extremity of a relationship, this should be that extreme; or, it also messes with your perception of how love should be actualized, how it should be performed. [...] You can live without people. [It] kind of romanticizes just really unhealthy ways to coping with relationship breakdowns, it's just what happens, you know. Let's not act like this is cute is what I'm saying." The romanticization of illness at a minimum and death/suicide at the maximum was a trope she loved in her younger years, so she was in a position to understand the allure of consuming romantic fiction at a young age, to then explain why it isn't alluring at all. When explaining the part of the film where Edward essentially says he loves Bella so much he is willing to die for her, Kennie says, "This movie [New Moon] and so many other movies like this, this trope, is so dangerous [...] it's not just simply we're watching entertainment, especially ones that are targeted towards me when I was, like, eleven years old, eight years old [...] I got to stop and make y'all realise that this is not cute. [...] There is nothing romantic about hurting yourself, killing yourself, at all. There is nothing romantic about being in such a place that you would want to kill yourself." As Kennie mentions, it is not just about consuming these tropes for entertainment, it is (often) the lack of life experiences that allows toxic tropes of extreme circumstances to be idolized or viewed as a benchmark for romance. More recent examples of teen media that get heavily criticized are conceived from the corporate womb of Netflix: After and The Kissing Booth. In an article for the Independent, Roisin O’Connor discusses Netflix’s allure with producing teen romances that have a rosy tinted hue spackled over toxic behavior. O’Connor discusses how Netflix “found a goldmine in the shape of Wattpad” when they decided to turn The Kissing Booth, Welsh teenager Beth Reekles’s debut novel on Wattpad, into a summer feature film on the streaming site. According to O’Connor, it was panned by critics due to its “overtly misogynistic tone” and moments where the male love interest (Noah) is violent or instigates physical fights. However, this teen romance is not the only poisoned arrow in its quiver to be shot at audiences unprovoked. At the time O’Connor’s piece was published, “After, another Wattpad sensation by American author Anna Todd, was just released on Netflix UK as a feature film. [...] [I]t follows the same pattern: a naive, wholesome girl leaves home for university, where she encounters Hardin, whose friends describe him as “complicated” (when really, he’s just an arsehole)[...]”. Some of the key points I found when researching critiques of Netflix’s attempts at teen love are the idea of normalization, framing harmful behavior as romantic, and giving teenage girls the will to ‘fix’ their broken boyfriends. An example of this, which can be easily found in The Kissing Booth or After, is the male love interest having a strong disconnection or ‘broken’ relationship with at least one of their parents, someone who self-sabotages with various vices, has a quick temper, and insults people to appear edgy, mysterious or alluring. Another reminder especially to any girls and women reading: being a good girlfriend is not synonymous with mending a poor partner. Young people are not stupid. Young people are not idiots. Being young is a complicated miasma of physical, emotional and mental fluctuations that no one can ever prepare you for; therefore, we need to acknowledge that fiction with toxic tropes may not objectively help young people learn about the importance of their well-being, their safety, their boundaries, and their worth in relationships unless that fiction consciously makes an effort to convey toxic behavior without romanticization. Observing toxicity in teen movies from an adult perspective can provide that guidance if and when needed. With this in mind, does this guidance differ if it is fiction targeting an adult audience? Criticisms of Popular Adult Media When the fateful day arrived that Kennie J.D. published her thoughts about Fifty Shades of Grey in an episode of ‘Bad Movies and Beat’, she first addressed that she held the movie to a different standard in terms of its toxic tropes because of the target audience; “It's not targeted to pre-teens or even people in their late teens so much, it's garnered towards people in the age bracket of the character; twenty-two, thirty-ish. Arguably, it;'s not even then, I feel like the audience is actually just very sexually repressed suburban housewives in their forties. Because the prime demographic is not, say, high schoolers or teenagers, I don't mind it being as much of a toxic relationship. Primarily, I would imagine this is supposed to be targeting people that have life experience and are better at differentiating between desirable and undesirable traits and being able to decipher between reality and fantasy—in theory." Of course, the toxic trope is important to identify and discuss, especially in the context of bondage, domination, submission/sadism, and masochism—BDSM. However, this assessment of the film’s target audience suggests that because adults are (in theory) more likely to differentiate between fictional relationships designed for indulgence and the reality of relationships based on their personal experience, then criticisms about toxic relationship tropes don’t necessarily have similar weight or gravity in comparison to fiction designed to target teens. Quips about “very sexually repressed suburban housewives” aside, Suzanne Braun Levine corroborates this suggestion that women over thirty are a key demographic of the franchise. She argues in a Huffington post article why the vast majority of people that are purchasing, reading, or talking about Fifty Shades of Grey are this specific age groups by stating, "It's the talking about it part that interests me, because as I travel around the country meeting with groups of women to discuss my latest book How We Love Now, the subject of sex inevitably comes up, and when it does, the consensus is that while many women are having great sex and many others are having sexual problems, we are not sharing our experiences the way we do on most other topics. [...] By talking about the book, we are also able to gauge whether other women are exploring the same territory. 'I'm reading 50 Shades of Grey" is code for "I still have sexual feelings; do you?'" In other words, Suzanne suggests that Fifty Shades of Grey was the push or topic starter for older women to talk with like-minded people, begin to embrace an aspect of sex positivity, and explore their own sexuality in new ways. I strongly believe in sex positivity and the idea of exploring desires and boundaries, emphasis on the latter. Boundaries are just as important as desire when it comes to sexuality and sex-positivity– something I would argue is overlooked by Suzanne's assessment. Desire and exploration for older women are key reasons why Fifty Shades established and grew this particular audience. However, it is also necessary to iterate that when it comes to BDSM or 'non-vanilla' activities, its representation in fiction can be portrayed in relation to toxic dynamics and behavior—which isn't necessarily representative of the BDSM community. In a post-Fifty Shades world, there are more positively received representations of BDSM in fiction such as Bonding, an American dark comedy series on Netflix from 2018-2021, and Love and Leashes, a webtoon [web comic] which later became a Korean rom-com film in 2022 that is also on Netflix. However, the criticisms of the BDSM scenes in Fifty Shades of Grey often were about the seemingly unbalanced and 'toxic' dynamic between the two love interests, or how this franchise and its reception paint a specific picture of the community that may not be the full canvas. In Psychology Today, Scott A. McGreal MSc. cited multiple papers and studies to address the discussion about Fifty Shades of Grey and glamorizing abusive relationships: "The first paper [“Double Crap!” Abuse and Harmed Identity in Fifty Shades of Grey][...] analyses the interactions between the two main characters in Fifty Shades of Grey and concludes that the story depicts stalking, intimidation, and emotional and sexual abuse of the female protagonist Anastasia by her love interest Christian (Bonomi, et al., 2013). Bonomi et al. also correctly point out that the books provide a rather distorted portrayal of the practice of BDSM noting that real-life practitioners pay much more attention to issues of consent and safety than the characters in the books." A common criticism from the BDSM community is the poor representation of the lifestyle to make it appear toxic or possibly one-sided when real-life sub-dom relationships rely on trust and ongoing consent from all people involved. Pamela Stephenson Connolly emphasizes this, stating in The Guardian in 2012 that the ‘worst’ part of the Grey’s portrayal of a man interested in BDSM is; “the implication that his particular erotic style has developed because he is psychologically ‘sick’. [...] Ten years ago, I carried out an extensive psychological study of people in the BDSM community – the largest empirical study ever done at the time – to examine their psychological attributes and determine if there was any justification for the notion, commonly held, even within my field, that they were all psychologically disturbed. After giving each of the 132 participants four hours of psychological tests, as well as a face-to-face interview, I found that, in fact, the group was generally not mentally unhealthy, and the instances of early abuse that had long been associated with the adult practice of BDSM were present in just a few. [...] BDSM, played in a safe and consensual manner, is not proof of mental or physical illness, essential badness or emotional damage from trauma or abusive parenting, and that people cannot – and should not – be treated to cure it.” This is where the context of the target audience matters when discussing toxicity; the elements of toxic behaviors in adult relationships or adult contexts differ from the circumstances or experiences of teenage life. The idea of consent is the same for all ages, but things such as BDSM add to the discussion of consent depending on an adult’s accumulation of experiences. Kat Blaque, a content creator that sometimes talks about her experience as a sub in the BDSM community, discusses in their video about Fifty Shades of Grey that she can see why people in the community argue that this is a poor representation of BDSM. However, she argues that she can see why people took issue with how the community was represented in the film and that “it isn’t a reflection of most BDSM stuff” but is “a pretty good depiction of bedroom BDSM. To elaborate, she explains, “I did not think that this was an inaccurate portrayal of BDSM. Is it the kind of BDSM I do? Absolutely not. But do some indeed people engage in this particular type of BDSM? Yes. [...] It is common for dominant men to be allured by inexperienced submissives, particularly women because they can then introduce them to BDSM and what it means to have a sub-dom dynamic.” Whilst clarifying the difference between bedroom BDSM and being in the BDSM community in her video, Kat Blaque also talks about toxicity. Not just in romanticizing the creepy ways Christian Grey violates her space and privacy (such as having sex instead of calling the police when Christain let himself into her apartment and waiting in the dark to surprise her), but also how the film sets up a story where Anastasia and Christian are clearly misaligned in the ‘vigor’ of their sub-dom dynamic. Supported by a clip of Anastasia exclaiming “why do you care so much about the contract Christian, don't you like me the way I am?”, Kat Blaque discusses an occurrence where a ‘vanilla’ person may sign a contract with someone that is into BDSM in the hopes of thinking their romantic desires will replace their BDSM desires, that they may think; “'I'm going to get him to the point where he doesn't really want to do this BDSM stuff and he just loves me’ [...] But I guess for me, that's just an overwhelmingly toxic message, you know that I like this thing and you're going to hold it against me for liking it—that doesn't seem fair, especially when I'm upfront with you. [...] "The thing that angered me about the end is that Christian Grey is very clear about what he wants [...] [However,] Christian Grey in the mythology of this movie is an experienced dominant. He should know what to do and what not to do, and what she can take and what she can't take. [...] it was irresponsible for Christian Grey to play with her as hard as he had played with her because she was not prepared for it.” In other words, Christian and Anastasia were misaligned with what they wanted which caused the relationship to fall apart in the first installment. Anastasia did not take Christian’s wants and boundaries seriously by believing romance or love could ‘solve’ his dom desires, meanwhile Christian was worthy of a restraining order in the non-BDSM scenes but was irresponsible by agreeing to do a BDSM scene harsher to what they’ve done before which harmed Anastasia's wellbeing and her outlook on doms. In terms of the film’s portrayal of a heterosexual sub-dom dynamic, Mark Hughes wrote for Forbes that instead of sexual liberation for women and the title’s audience, Fifty Shades of Grey reaffirms gender roles where: “Women submitting to men, women's narratives as subservient to men's narratives -- even male supporting characters -- isn't new, nor is it a radical concept to portray women as sex objects for men. The film seems to think that noting women can experience sexual gratification sometimes while playing typical subservient roles to male gratification is some kind of empowering message.” I would then argue that both Bonding and Love and Leashes’ portrayal of BDSM can be better received because the male protagonist is a sub and the female protagonist is a dom, therefore eliminating any suggestions of women being directly synonymous with submission. It is not directly gendered. Furthermore, Love and Leashes brings up how it can be difficult to establish and sustain a healthy sub-dom relationship that is also romantic because a healthy romantic relationship should have equality for all people involved, meanwhile a sub-dom dynamic plays with the balance of control in a consensual setting. The idea that Fifty Shades of Grey is less about BDSM as a lifestyle and more about reaffirming gender roles is reflected in Kat Blaque’s general criticism that the film is simply a “heteronormative romance with a BDSM backdrop”, “Fifty Shades of Grey is just an overexaggerated version of your typical over-idealized heterosexual love story; you've got this shy submissive woman who doesn’t really have much of a direction in life who meets this big rich dominant man who wants to give her the world, it's really just these exaggerations of these already commonly accepted tropes, and I think the thing that I personally really appreciate about BDSM is its subversiveness." Arguably, this is one of the reasons why not a lot of people are able to take this franchise seriously. It contains explicit adult content to perform as the USP (unique selling point) of a heightened version of a specific heterosexual dynamic that is often seen as misogyny or abusive—regardless of a dungeon. We see the attributes of abuse and toxicity in Fifty Shades of Grey because you don't need to be a part of the BDSM community to observe the toxic behaviors we see time and time again in multiple heterosexual relationships on-screen. Due to works such as Fifty Shades of Grey and even 365 Days, relationships in adult fiction are taken less seriously in general compared to those in teen fiction because sexual or explicit topics are going to be scrutinized from the first watch, ‘is it hot or do they want us to think it’s hot but in reality, my gametes have shriveled and died from cringe?’ Because of this scrutiny, discussing adult fiction and portrayals of relationship abuse have a different type of complexity. Instead of adults telling teenagers to avoid brooding men with a temper, it is adults telling adults to avoid brooding men with a temper, which may be similar to telling a cowboy not to kick a bull—it probably isn’t their first rodeo. Overall, the way unhealthy relationships are written in adult fiction can often be very exaggerated versions of heteronormativity, which may exhibit more obvious red flags of misogyny, abuse and toxicity that adults are already familiar with in comparison to teenagers. Furthermore, it can be a more complex conversation than simply ‘toxic tropes’ or ‘signs of a toxic relationship’ when paired with something that experiences heavy stigmatization or poor representation, such as BDSM. What’s the Difference? Firstly, it is important to understand that teenagers and adults are going to differ as target audiences regardless of the fiction’s content and criticisms. It matters to know teen audiences and adult audiences are not unified audiences with unified experiences and responses to media. I point this out due to one specific criticism I have of O’Connor’s piece; there is the lack of discussion about teen movies for teens and adult movies for adults. For example, O’Connor wrote, “It’s not “regular” or “romantic” when your boyfriend punches someone because he thinks they insulted you (After, The Kissing Booth, Twilight, Beautiful Disaster), or when they stalk you and turn up uninvited (Fifty Shades of Grey, Twilight, Fallen, Beautiful Disaster) or creep through your window and watch you sleep (Twilight), or order you when and when not to eat and drink (Twilight, The Kissing Booth, Fifty Shades of Grey, Beautiful Disaster). Presenting this behavior as anything other than toxic is an incredibly dangerous and irresponsible message to sell to impressionable young girls who, as one of the more frank Kissing Booth reviews observed, “lap this crap up”. Whilst I agree with the final sentence, I would like to specifically point out (the obvious) that the audiences for After, The Kissing Booth, and Twilight, differ in age from the target audience of Fifty Shades of Grey and Beautiful Disaster. The former three are written and produced for a primarily teenage audience. However, Fifty Shades of Grey is infamously known as a book containing BSDM which is a lifestyle that is highly advised to be done between consenting adults. Meanwhile, Target sells Beautiful Disaster with a suggested age of 22 years and up and Amazon states (via a Google search result) that “Due to the content and language of this book, it is recommended for ages 17+. (New Adult) Beautiful Disaster is not for everyone.” Yes, toxic relationships and behaviors are evident in all the books O’Connor points out. However, clumping these books under the same umbrella may confuse readers into believing all the books share a similar if not the same target audience. There may be overlap in secondary audiences, but suggesting that Fifty Shades of Grey is sold to ‘impressionable young girls’ vastly disregards the older adult women that dominated (no pun intended) seats when reading or watching this franchise. I would argue that if it is dangerous and irresponsible to twist toxicity into something alluring for teenage girls, then it can also be dangerous and irresponsible to imply that all titles mentioned so far are designed for and share only one age group as their audience. Of course, older women can experience toxic and abusive relationships as well as teenagers; however, the difference in age group also means a difference in life experiences that must be noted when analyzing the narratives in media for certain audiences. Moving on from this, we can address the specific differences between the way relationships in teen media may be critiqued and the way relationships in adult media may be critiqued. Based on other people’s published thoughts about teen and/or adult romance in fiction or in real life, a key factor that is commonly brought up is the difference in life circumstances. Freelance editor and proofreader Claire Bradshaw identified the differences between YA fiction and adult fiction in the publishing industry, mentioning that, “[I]t’s not the age of the main characters alone that defines the category. It’s also the concerns and priorities of those characters, and the way their stories are told. [...] A teenager has different priorities, worries and thoughts than an adult, and this comes across in YA fiction. This goes some way towards explaining the prominence of certain tropes (e.g. love triangles) and the prevalence of certain themes (e.g. self-discovery and friendship) in YA. [...] "Some themes are definitely more specific to one category or the other – coming of age in YA, for example, or existential musings in adult fiction. But themes cross over all the time between the two categories. The differentiation comes from the way themes are explored. Take love and romantic relationships, for example. This theme and everything that comes with it, including sexuality, is as much a part of the young adult experience as it is the adult. But while characters might have sexual experiences in YA novels, it’s more likely to be explored in much less explicit detail than a sex scene in an adult novel." The idea that the experiences of the age group largely contribute to the content in fiction corroborates Kennie’s previously mentioned assessment that adults are more likely to be “better at differentiating between desirable and undesirable traits and being able to decipher between reality and fantasy”. Teen fiction may contain topics and concerns that align with a teenager’s daily experiences, whereas adults have already experienced and learnt from their teen years to spot the red flag from a ‘hindsight’ perspective (in theory). An article published by Betterhelp supports this difference by discussing the difficulties teenagers may experience when it comes to finding and sustaining a love life, that there are certain challenges that aren’t applicable to adults anymore such as figuring out who you are, changing circumstances such as school and home life, and to what extent a relationship can last. The article states that, “Adults are usually in a more stable place when they begin relationships. When teens start relationships while they’re in school, they’re going to face a trying time as graduation approaches and many of them leave for college to another city or state. Teens that are in serious relationships will need to talk to determine if they’re going to end their relationship when they go off to college." Arguably, this is one of the reasons why discussions about toxic relationships in teen fiction are so important. Teenagers are already experiencing certain difficulties and changes that are often reflected in the fiction they consume, so introducing them to tropes that are unhealthy at best and dangerous at worst is not going to objectively support their growth unless it is interpreted as what not to do. The fact that adults are more likely secure in their home life, work life, identity, desires and boundaries suggests adult media may only resonate with adults to an extent before you have to suspend disbelief. Relatability for adults is not as successfully commodified in dramatic romance fiction as it is for teenagers. Perhaps indulging in less relatable circumstances may be more successful for adult fiction, such as the impact of Fifty Shades of Grey on a huge demographic of older women. To summarize, expected life experiences largely contribute to our treatment of toxic relationships in fiction depending on the target audience’s primary age group. We expect the target audience of teen romance fiction to be experiencing the same dilemmas and questions. Therefore, they may not have the power of ‘hindsight’, to better observe toxic behaviors from a better informed perspective that we might see from adults that critique teen romance fiction. We may also expect adults to critique adult romance fiction. However, they may be more condemning about the toxic representation of adult topics, such as BDSM, not just the lack of realism in the romantic dynamic. Overall, this assessment highlights how our life experiences ‘that are built by our relationships and our understandings of their intricacies’ are what cause the differing standards and criticisms of romance between teen and adult fiction. Conclusion: What can be Improved? To summarize my research and thoughts about toxicity in teen and adult relationships, what I would like readers to think about is how teen and adult fiction can be improved so consumers of any age could have a better experience with content designed for them. For teen fiction, I would suggest that: Any examples of toxic behavior in relationships should be more framed as teachable moments for the audience rather than romanticized. Not every ‘broken’ person should be ‘fixed’ by love or a romantic relationship, nor should a person be responsible for ‘fixing’ a ‘broken’ person with love. It is possible for a person to live without someone they love or used to love without dangerous displays of angst; the lifeline of a relationship should not dictate the lifeline of a person. For adult fiction, I would suggest to: Create characters with a more nuanced portrayal of adult-centric communities to avoid stereotypical and ill-informed representations. Portray the difficulties of managing an equal adult relationship if the people involved have varying desires, wants, and interests (in sex, marriage, children, etc.). Allow adults to occasionally and safely indulge in toxic tropes whilst knowing that these tropes should not appear in real life. Arguably, there are two things that can improve fiction for both teen and adult audiences. Firstly, it would be great if there were better and more developed examples of communication between characters, especially when it comes to their desires, wants, expectations, and boundaries. Secondly, there should be more examples of relationships ending. Although many audiences consume romance fiction to indulge in ‘everlasting love’ and unrealistic character archetypes, sometimes love is not enough to keep people together if it develops into something toxic—and that’s okay. There are a lot of points that I have mentioned that overlap between audiences depending on the tropes exhibited and the type of romantic story told. However, these points were divided to emphasize the differences between the ‘toxicity’ that needs to be addressed in teen fiction and adult fiction. To conclude, it is very common for entertainment industries to indulge in toxic tropes for multiple age groups because they sell, but the ongoing discourse and criticism of these tropes reflect the modern demand for better representation. This includes equity and diversity of characters or the treatment of interests and dynamics. The industries that produce the fiction we consume should know better about what we actually want, not what they think we want or used to want but don’t anymore. It is vital for us to think critically about the fiction we consume, it is and almost certainly will always be fantasy rather than the blueprint to real-life circumstances. We are allowed to critique the romance we consume and the people that create it. These industries are not our toxic boyfriends, yet they love to act like it. Editors: Danielle C., Rachel C., Lang D., Cathay L., Claudia S., Erika Y. Photo Credits: Photo by Myke Simon on Unsplash Bibliography “BDSM.” Cambridge Dictionary, https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/bdsm. Blaque, Kat. “Actual Bdsmer Watches Fifty Shades of Grey: Kat Blaque.” YouTube, 13 Aug. 2020, https://youtu.be/F93WHXewX5c. Bonomi, Amy E., et al. “Fiction or Not? Fifty Shades Is Associated with Health Risks in Adolescent and Young Adult Females.” Journal of Women's Health, vol. 23, no. 9, 2014, pp. 720–728., https://doi.org/10.1089/jwh.2014.4782. Bonomi, Amy E., et al. “‘Double Crap!’ Abuse and Harmed Identity in Fifty Shades of Grey.” Journal of Women's Health, vol. 22, no. 9, 2013, pp. 733–744., https://doi.org/10.1089/jwh.2013.4344. Bradshaw, Claire. “3 Key Differences between YA Fiction and Adult Fiction.” Writer's Edit, Writer's Edit, 3 Aug. 2018, https://writersedit.com/fiction-writing/3-key-differences-between-ya-fiction-and-adult-fiction/. Cauterucci, Christina. “The Adult Bodies Playing Teens on TV.” Slate Magazine, Slate, 13 Dec. 2017, https://slate.com/technology/2017/12/what-effect-does-it-have-on-viewers-when-mature-adults-play-teens-on-high-school-television-shows.html. Ceresia, Bobby. 'Fifty Shades Freed' Is a Toxic Relationship between Boredom and ... 11 Feb. 2018, https://www.voxmagazine.com/arts/movies/fifty-shades-freed-is-a-toxic-relationship-between-boredom-and-embarrassment/article_8c9d5e30-0e18-11e8-85f7-0b6584fc8347.html. Connolly, Pamela Stephenson. “Fifty Shades of Grey Is Bad for Bondage.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 8 July 2012, https://www.theguardian.com/theguardian/shortcuts/2012/jul/08/fifty-shades-grey-bad-bondage. Doyle, Rightor. “Watch Bonding: Netflix Official Site.” Watch BONDING | Netflix Official Site, 24 Apr. 2019, https://www.netflix.com/title/81004814. Flood, Alison. “Fifty Shades of Grey Readers Show Higher Levels of Sexism, Study Finds.” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media, 10 May 2016, https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/may/10/fifty-shades-of-grey-readers-show-higher-levels-of-sexism-study-finds Gillies, Oshell. “Why Netflix's Love and Leashes Has Found Success.” MovieWeb, 22 Mar. 2022, https://movieweb.com/netflix-love-and-leashes-success/. Google Search, Google, https://www.google.com/search?q=beautiful%2Bdisaster%2Bage%2Brating%2Bamazon&sxsrf=ALiCzsbiQjTEppHPZGeAsozJJT7IqhDCKA%3A1670733706633&ei=il-VY7WkJr2ahbIPqcu_sAY&ved=0ahUKEwi1keSI4PD7AhU9TUEAHanlD2YQ4dUDCA8&uact=5&oq=beautiful%2Bdisaster%2Bage%2Brating%2Bamazon&gs_lcp=Cgxnd3Mtd2l6LXNlcnAQAzIECCMQJzoECAAQR0oECEEYAEoECEYYAFCVA1jCCmCSDGgAcAJ4AIABtwOIAeMIkgEHMC4yLjQtMpgBAKABAcgBCMABAQ&sclient=gws-wiz-serp . Green, Emma. “Fifty Shades of Grey Gets BDSM Dangerously Wrong.” The Atlantic, Atlantic Media Company, 10 Feb. 2015, https://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2015/02/consent-isnt-enough-in-fifty-shades-of-grey/385267/. Hughes, Mark. “Review - 'Fifty Shades of Grey' Is Abusive Gender Roles Disguised as Faux-Feminism.” Forbes, Forbes Magazine, 13 Feb. 2015, https://www.forbes.com/sites/markhughes/2015/02/13/review-fifty-shades-of-grey-is-abusive-gender-roles-disguised-as-faux-feminism/ JD, Kennie. “Netflix's ‘The Kissing Booth’ Is Proof That Wattpad Is Dangerous: Bad Movies & a Beat: Kenniejd.” YouTube, 30 Nov. 2019, https://youtu.be/E9XPZlS7Fec. JD, Kennie. “‘FIFTY SHADES OF GREY’ IS TWILIGHT IF IT WERE A COMEDY| BAD MOVIES & A BEAT | KennieJD.” YouTube, 14 Dec. 2019, https://youtu.be/ic. JD, Kennie. “‘Twilight: New Moon’ Is Better, but Still Combustable Trash| Bad Movies & a Beat | Kenniejd.” YouTube, YouTube, 8 Feb. 2020, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EtOI0OmTjME. Kirsten. “Saddest Season: Rom-Coms and the Reframing of Toxic Relationships.” URGE, 22 Dec. 2020, https://urge.org/saddest-season-rom-coms-and-the-reframing-of-toxic-relationships/. Levine, Suzanne Braun. “Why Women My Age Are Reading '50 Shades of Grey'.” HuffPost, 6 Dec. 2017, https://www.huffpost.com/entry/why-women-my-age-are-read_b_1434554. LJ, Sujanandhini. “Influence of Romcom Movies on Attitude towards Acceptance of Toxicity ...” ResearchGate, June 2022, https://www.researchgate.net/publication/361420200_INFLUENCE_OF_ROMCOM_MOVIES_ON_ATTITUDE_TOWARDS_ACCEPTANCE_OF_TOXICITY_IN_ROMANTIC_RELATIONSHIPS_AMONG_COLLEGE_STUDENTS. McGreal MSc., Scott A. “Fifty Shades: Glamorizing Abuse or Harmless Escapism?” Psychology Today, Sussex Publishers, 7 Mar. 2015, https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/unique-everybody-else/201503/fifty-shades-glamorizing-abuse-or-harmless-escapism. O'Connor, Roisin. “From 'after' to 'The Kissing Booth' – the Problem with Toxic Teen Romances.” The Independent, Independent Digital News and Media, 2 Aug. 2019, http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/books/features/after-netflix-film-anna-todd-book-the-kissing-booth-teen-romance-toxic-behaviour-twilight-a9008621.html%3Famp&ved=2ahUKEwj5p5Ofr9b7AhWNh1wKHQZvDwEQFnoECAkQAQ&usg=AOvVaw3rrNZKtE_5mgGTiMgusd8E. Packard, Erika. “That Teenage Feeling.” Monitor on Psychology, American Psychological Association, Apr. 2007, https://www.apa.org/monitor/apr07/teenage. Quora. “The Real Reason That 50 Shades of Grey Poses a Danger to Society.” HuffPost, HuffPost, 27 Oct. 2017, https://www.huffpost.com/entry/the-real-reason-that-50-shades-of-grey-poses-a-danger_b_59f3b177e4b05f0ade1b5746. Stosny, Ph.D., Steven. “How Couples Learn to Love like Adults.” Psychology Today, Sussex Publishers, 24 Jan. 2018, https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/anger-in-the-age-entitlement/201801/how-couples-learn-love-adults. Team, BetterHelp Editorial. “Is Teen Love Real & Can It Last?” BetterHelp, BetterHelp, 20 Dec. 2022, https://www.betterhelp.com/advice/love/is-teen-love-real-can-it-last/. WhittyNovels. “Harmful Relationships in Ya & New Adult Novels | Discussion (CC).” YouTube, YouTube, 24 Apr. 2017, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aoWtC6oE5L8. Winter. “Love and Leashes.” Webtoons.com, 2022, https://www.webtoons.com/en/romance/love-and-leashes/list?title_no=3919&page=1. “Beautiful Disaster (Paperback) by Jamie McGuire.” Target, https://www.target.com/p/beautiful-disaster-paperback-by-jamie-mcguire/-/A-14213481. “Evidence Summary: Adolescent Romantic Relationships – Why Are They Important? And Should They Be Encouraged or Avoided?” Headspace, Headspace, 2012, https://headspace.org.au/assets/download-cards/romanticrelationships-adolescent-romantic-relationships-why-are-they-important-headspace-evsum.pdf. “Genres and Forms for Young Adult and Young Fiction.” Natlib.govt.nz, https://natlib.govt.nz/schools/reading-engagement/childrens-and-youth-literature/genres-and-forms-for-young-adult-and-young-fiction. “How to Love and Find Love That Is Healthy.” BetterHelp, BetterHelp, 2 Aug. 2022, https://www.betterhelp.com/advice/love/how-to-love-and-find-love-that-is-healthy/. “Oxford Word of the Year 2018: Oxford Languages.” Oxford Word of the Year 2018 | Oxford Languages, Nov. 2018, https://languages.oup.com/word-of-the-year/2018/#:~:text=The%20adjective%20toxic%20is%20defined,or%20'imbued%20with%20poison. “Understanding Audiences.” Independent Cinema Office, 27 July 2017, https://www.independentcinemaoffice.org.uk/advice-support/how-to-start-a-cinema/understanding-audiences/. “Watch Love and Leashes: Netflix Official Site.” Watch Love and Leashes | Netflix Official Site, 11 Feb. 2022, https://www.netflix.com/title/81314328 .

What is a body but flesh and bone given life. Muscles and tissue bound together in a vast network. A thing to fear and hate and be ashamed of. Beneath the gaze of the scorching sun, a prison looms. I am the prison. I am the inmate carrying out a life sentence. I am made of regrets and broken spirits. I hate the skin I’m in. It is a minefield of marks and scars. It itches and burns. It is an island in a sea of white. I hate what I see in the mirror. Cracks in the glass, Cracks in myself. The gangly arms. The protruding belly. The thinning hair. Every little fault, Every little flaw I’m acutely aware of. Aunts and uncles and parents who point out my shortcomings. The constant noise becomes a cacophony. It drowns out the tiny little voice of hope, Already struggling to stay afloat. But when the sun sets, the moon will rise, And with it, hope emerges. Under the light of dancing stars, a temple stands. I am the temple. I am the god to which it is dedicated. I am made of stardust and faraway dreams. I love the skin I’m in. It is descended from rice fields and war. It is the color of dark amber. It is a marker of the community I belong to. I love what I feel in my heart. Warmth and joy bloom across my chest In a newly weeded garden. My body of work is a work in progress. My body is enough. I am enough. The ghost of the prison still lingers, Haunting the path I’ve forged. But the temple is radiant And shines with a light I didn’t know I had. What is a body but a vessel for memories and emotions. Hopes and dreams bound together. A thing to learn and grow and cherish. Editors: (first name, last initial of all editors that worked on your piece) Nikki J., Nadine R., Zoe L., Joyce S., Anoushka K.

MAY 2021 A scream erupts from Max’s throat. He won the lottery! Well, the next best thing. Max reads the first words of the email again: Hi Max, We’re pleased to offer you the Executive Assistant position with our company. If you agree, please sign the attached offer of employment, and we will let you know the next steps regarding the onboarding process. He couldn’t believe it. He finally got a job. Footsteps thunder down the stairs. Max’s cousin, Ella, searches the kitchen with frantic eyes. She grips a pen in her hand, positioned to stab the nearest threat. “What’s wrong? I heard you scream.” If he wasn’t so giddy right now, he would make fun of Ella for her reaction. The BTS sweater with all of the members’ faces she wears is even more ammunition, but he ignores it. “I got the job!” A look of sheer murder flickers in her eyes upon hearing there isn’t any actual danger. It transforms into joy when she processes his words. Ella lets out a scream of her own. “Oh my god!” She drops the pen and hugs Max, the two jumping around the kitchen. When they let go, Ella claps her hands. “We have to celebrate. I’m taking you out. When are you free? When do you start? What are the next steps?” Max laughs at the flood of questions. His cousin talks a mile a minute when she’s excited. “I’m free until the job starts. The email said I start in two weeks. I have to sign their offer letter, and they’ll let me know what to do after that.” Ella sits at the kitchen table, and Max joins her. The sunlight streaming through the windows can’t compete with the brightness of both their smiles. “Have you told your parents yet?” “Not yet. I just got the email, and you’re the first person who knows.” “I was the first person last time, too.” The light dims from a cloud passing over the sun. Max leans back in his chair. “I can’t believe that was five months ago. I was such a different person back then.” His mind drifts back in time. He is brought back to the moment his quarter-life crisis began... DECEMBER 2020 “Ready for our meeting?” asked his boss, Whitney. “Yep, let’s do it.” Max unplugged his laptop from his desk to bring with him. “We’re going to stop by Annette’s office first.” The head of HR? He didn’t know what role she had to play in this meeting, but she was fun to talk to. Max followed Whitney to Annette’s office. They passed by empty desks. Their company had just moved to a new building. All of the departments were still getting settled. Cubicles were half-built, chairs were stacked in corners, and plants were waiting to be put to use as decoration. The space smelled of plaster and newness, ready to be replaced with coffee and routine. They arrived at Annette's office. The smile that normally played along her face was absent. Tension hung in the air. A kernel of dread formed in his stomach. Something was wrong. “Please, sit,” directed Annette. Max and Whitney took the seats across from her desk. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here.” “Yeah…” “We’ve decided to let you go. Your skills aren’t what we need at our company right now…” Max didn’t hear the rest. His thoughts came to a screeching halt. What did she say? Let go? Was he being fired? The sound of paper cut through his thoughts. Annette handed him a document. “And here are the termination papers that go into more detail. If you choose to sign them, we can offer you a severance package. Do you have any questions?” She might as well have been speaking in a foreign language. Max’s brain short-circuited. His mouth was dry. His first instinct was to run out of the room. However, a small but firm voice in the back of his head stopped him and asked him a question. It was just enough to get him to ask the same question out loud. “Why?” Annette blinked. “Excuse me?” As if she was surprised he actually had a question. Max turned to Whitney. “Why are you firing me? How did you come to this decision?” His boss averted her gaze. She couldn’t even talk to him directly about it. “There are two main reasons. The first is that you were taking a long time to finish projects. The second is that you don’t seem happy at the job anymore.” His confusion ignited into anger. Of all the reasons… The irony was that Whitney wasn’t wrong in what she said. Yes, he had been taking a long time to finish his projects, but that was because she kept assigning him projects that weren’t related to his job and didn’t offer him any support. She did this to her other employees, too. They were left to fend for themselves and got blamed when they didn’t meet the unrealistic standards expected of them. The other employees, now Max’s friends, shared their frustrations during his first week. He tried to show initiative and produce quality work, but it was the equivalent of floundering in the ocean without a life jacket. Max tried to talk with Whitney to communicate his concerns, but she always dismissed them, insisting he would figure it out. Anger bubbled to the surface, ready to erupt and call out Whitney. However, he knew that would just make him the disgruntled employee who couldn’t keep up with the demands of the job. He would be stereotyped as the angry brown person. Stay calm, Max. Be professional. “Was there a reason why we couldn't have had a meeting to discuss my performance before you came to this decision?” Whitney straightened as if she had been preparing for this question. “I tried talking to you, but nothing seemed to be working.” Max didn’t have to analyze their past interactions to see the flaws in her statement. “Are you referring to the one time you interrupted me during my lunch break and asked if I was okay because I ‘seemed down’?” He put the last two words in air quotes to emphasize his point. Any doubts he had about Whitney’s leadership were confirmed at that moment. There had never been a formal sit-down meeting to review his work. If Max had to guess, it seemed like Whitney didn’t want to go through the effort of giving him a fair evaluation. Instead of addressing what he said, she moved on, much to Max’s annoyance. “We’re letting you go before the holidays to make it easier.” Max took in a controlled breath. Easier for who? Christmas was two weeks away. He still needed to finish his shopping for his family and friends. But if he didn’t have an income… How could Whitney possibly think any of this was helpful to him? “And I’d be happy to write you a letter of recommendation while you search for your next job.” That was the last straw. “With all due respect, Whitney, I don’t want a letter of recommendation from you. I can’t trust that what you’ll say will cast me in a good light, given the reasons for why you’re letting me go.” His voice cracked at the end. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he wasn’t going to give Whitney the satisfaction of seeing him cry. His boss didn’t have the same control over her emotions. Whitney sniffled and wiped at her eyes. Are you kidding me? Max was upset because he was getting fired, but Whitney had the audacity to be emotional? Unbelievable. He shook his head, grabbed the termination papers, and stormed out of the room. When he got back to his desk, he started packing his belongings. Since he had only been there a short time, he didn’t have much in the way of decorations or mementos. “What happened?” one of his co-workers asked. “Are you okay?” “I just got fired.” “What?” exclaimed the rest of the group. Max slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you later. I’m going to miss you all.” As much as he wanted to get out of that building, he couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to the friends he made. He hugged each of them. Whitney returned to the office. Despite being the boss, she couldn’t have looked more out of place if she tried. Max approached her. “If one of the reasons why you’re firing me is because I didn’t seem happy, maybe you should ask yourself what it was about the job that made me unhappy.” He didn’t wait for a response. Max speed-walked out of the building and didn’t stop until he was inside his car. The moment he shut the door, he let the tears fall. JANUARY 2021 New year, new me. That’s what people said, right? Max was never one for resolutions, but he had every intention of finding a new job. After he was fired, he didn’t immediately start searching. He had been given a break—albeit under less than preferred circumstances—and he used it to recharge. Most companies were off for the holidays, anyway. Christmas was an ordeal. When his cousins and aunts and uncles asked him how the new job was going, Max lied and said that it was great. He knew they would have supported him had he told them the truth. However, the thought of having to explain why he was fired and the inevitable follow-up of what he would do next exhausted him. Max also didn’t want to see the pity on their faces. He didn’t need his relatives feeling bad for him. The first person he told was Ella. Besides her, the only people who knew the truth were his parents and best friend. He told his mom and dad out of obligation on the day it happened. Max was worried his parents would blame him for not meeting the standards of his former company. Being immigrants, they always emphasized the value of hard work, even with people you don’t like. But they were surprisingly understanding and told him he would find a better job. They even agreed not to tell the extended family, which was a marvel given their family’s tendency to spread gossip like wildfire. Max waited for his laptop to turn on. He sipped his honey and lemon tea to soothe his nerves. A storm raged outside his window, the snow caught in a fierce dance with the wind. He was perfectly content in his pajamas with a throw blanket wrapped around his shoulders. It had been three weeks since he lost his job. During that time, he had reflected on what he wanted from a new job. No, not wanted. Deserved. Looking back, there had been a slew of red flags that should have set off all the alarms in his head. The job was in-person Monday through Friday, which wouldn’t have been a big deal if the world wasn't in the grip of a pandemic. Other companies learned to adapt and found higher productivity rates when their employees worked from home or at least adopted a hybrid format. During the interview process, Max was given a salary range with a $15,000 difference. Based on his experiences and qualifications, an offer in the middle of that range would have been more than fair. However, when he was offered the job, the salary was the lowest amount in the range he had been given. He had to call the president of the company to negotiate for a higher salary that would pay his bills and keep him fed. When Max broke down the pronunciation of his two-syllable last name, that same president replied with, “Oh, that’s too hard.” She didn’t even attempt to learn how to say his surname and respect his heritage. As terrible as all of those things were, they showed Max what not to look for in a new job. Silver linings and all that. He checked the clock on his desk. 9:00 AM. He was going to spend the next two hours doing everything related to job searching. The first step was creating a space that would motivate him. He silenced his phone. He lit a lavender candle to help him focus. A granola bar was stashed in his drawer for when he needed a break and a snack. Next, he pulled up his resume and cover letter. They were overdue for an update. Lastly, he pulled up his profile on LinkedIn, the doorway to the world of job-seeking. This was his chance to find a better job, and the bar was set pretty low. He was ready to dive in, knowing he was on a somewhat strict deadline. Max’s 26th birthday was in four months. He would be taken off his parents’ insurance. His mom and dad didn’t hide the fact that they were worried he wouldn’t find a job in time, but he let that motivate him. He still had time, and he still had hope, two luxuries that would bolster him in the months to come. Everything was going to be fine. APRIL 2021 Everything was most certainly not fine. “I want to curl up in a ball and stop existing.” Ella rolled her eyes. “Stop being dramatic. Did you submit it?” Max clicked the button on his screen. “Just did. I have officially filed for unemployment.” He hoped this day would never come. But three months in and one month away from his birthday, his clock was nearing its end. Max’s parents had suggested he file for unemployment the day he told them he got fired. He dismissed the idea, saying he would be fine. He was raised by parents who made him neurotic about saving money. That resulted in him having enough to live comfortably and pay what he needed to pay. Not having a job meant only buying the necessities and forgoing splurges and personal purchases. That was apparently what responsible adults in his situation did. His parents had indulged him the first time, but even their patience had its limits. Yesterday, they ambushed him with a talk about his life and what he was going to do if he didn’t find a job in time. They essentially told Max to get his head out of the clouds and file for unemployment because he wasn’t exactly being swarmed with interviews. His parents were always great at popping the bubble he had erected around himself, the bubble, of course, being denial. Now here he was, at his cousin’s house, relying on the government for assistance. The steady rhythm of rain matched his current mood: Sad with a capital S. But if these April showers were indicative of his life, then the May flowers would bring something good, right? Max didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to banish them altogether, either. Ella patted his back. “I’m proud of you. How does it work?” Max peered at the instructions sent to his email. “I have to do four job contacts each week, a contact being an application, messaging a recruiter, et cetera. I just have to show that I’m putting effort into finding a job. Then the government will give me, like, four hundred dollars a week.” “That’s not bad at all. Now you can get paid for what you’ve already been doing.” She wasn’t wrong. Max knew he should have filed for unemployment earlier if only to have spending money. Unfortunately, his pride–the trait that will be the downfall of him and his entire family–got in the way. He didn’t want to be “officially” unemployed. It made him feel inadequate. Like a failure. There was no shame in filing for unemployment, but Max thought he would have gotten a job by now. Instead, he had received dozens of rejection emails. Each one slowly chipped away at his confidence. He was so much more than a piece of paper that listed his experiences. All he needed was an interview to show off his personality and work ethic. All he needed was a chance. A week ago, Max had been brutally attacked by an existential crisis that tore into his self-worth. It hit him that he was jobless and single and nowhere close to where he thought would be in his life. His parents crossed an ocean and made a new life for themselves. Meanwhile, he graduated college with a degree and elevated levels of anxiety. He felt like a “bad Asian” for not being able to find the same stability his parents had. But that wasn’t even the entire picture. He felt like a bad adult. His friends had well-paying jobs and/or long-term relationships. Even Max’s younger brother, who was about to finish his first year of graduate school, was doing better than him. Max didn’t want to go on dates right now because he didn’t want to meet any guys while unemployed. Even if his situation wasn’t his fault, there was still a stigma toward people without jobs. His best friend pointed out that society told people they only have worth if they’re making money. Max knew it was absurd, but a part of him still fed into that toxic belief. He was cursed to watch everyone around him lead the lives he couldn’t. The realization ached with a hollow pain that left him numb. His stupor only lasted a day. When Max emerged from the fog of his insecurities, he acknowledged that his emotions might have been hyperactive, but he didn’t feel any less lost. Filing for unemployment did bring him some comfort, though. He was doing what was necessary, pride be damned. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do with the apartment?” Ella asked. Oh, right. Max’s apartment, or as his parents called it: the money sucker. His mom and dad had been pressuring him to move back in with them. They made it abundantly clear an apartment was a bad investment. What they failed to realize, however, was the personal significance it held. Max loved his parents, but he couldn’t stay with them forever. He had moved out three years ago, and doing so came with a newfound sense of freedom and independence. Sure, his apartment was in a basement and the air conditioning didn’t work in the summer and there were a ton of bugs, but it was his. Moving back in with his parents would mean he couldn’t handle life on his own. “Nope,” he replied. “That’s future me’s problem. Ask me next month.” “You can’t avoid it forever.” Max made a face. “I’m not avoiding it. I’m just rescheduling it for a later date. It’s called prioritizing, El.” The lease on his apartment ended in June. If he didn’t have a job by then, renewing the contract would just mean losing his money to rent. Max shoved the thought aside. He could make a better decision about it if or when he got a job. That was his primary focus. His parents’ words echoed in his head. What are you going to do if you don’t find a job? He hated that he didn’t have an answer. But there was one thing Max knew for sure–he was not going to give up. MAY 2021 “And nevertheless, I persisted–with two weeks left before my birthday!” Ella laughs. “You sure did. I swear, you experienced a year’s worth of stress in five months, and you have the gray hairs to prove it.” Max frowns. “Ugh, don’t remind me. The stress was killing me.” “How many jobs did you apply for?” He goes to his LinkedIn account and clicks on his list of submitted applications. “Twenty-seven,” he says after he finishes counting. “Most never got back to me. Three sent me generic rejection emails. One gave me a phone screening and an in-person interview but never contacted me afterward. And then I had the two interviews for this job.” “It paid off in the end?” asks Ella. Max nods. “It paid off in the end.” “What’s the job again?” “I’m going to be the Marketing Coordinator for a non-profit. It surprisingly pays more than my last position, so I’m not complaining.” He did a little dance in his chair. “All of the drama aside, I’m way more excited about this job than I was when I got the last one—that has to be a good sign.” For the first time in months, he feels like he can breathe again. The pressure of needing to find a job before his birthday had weighed on his shoulders for so long. Now Max could go out and buy his own meals instead of splitting the cost with his friends. He could buy gifts for his friends and shower them with the love they deserve via materialistic means. Money may not buy happiness, but having a steady income comes very close. “I’m just glad you’ll be making your own money again,” said his cousin, echoing his thoughts. “More importantly, I’ll have insurance, so I can properly deal with our messed up healthcare system.” “Gross. Remind me not to become an adult.” “I do not recommend it. Zero out of five stars.” “Speaking of adulting, have you decided what you’re going to do with your apartment? It is now present you’s problem.” Max leans back in his chair and sighs. “Yeah. I think I’m going to move back in with my parents.” It wasn’t an easy decision, and he had given a lot of thought to it. He had even made a pros and cons list because it helped him organize his thoughts. A month ago, Max was completely against the idea of moving back in. Failure of any kind left a bitter taste in his mouth. Moving back in was so… un-American. And that was when he had his epiphany. Yes, the American part of him hated the idea, but he was also Asian. Culturally, it was okay for children to stay with their parents. The fact that Max’s parents didn’t convert his childhood bedroom into an at-home gym when he moved out spoke volumes. The message was clear: there would always be a place for him in their house. (At one point, his dad did say he could stay with them, even when he was married, and that was a hard pass for Max.) He wouldn’t be charged rent, he could use all of the amenities provided, and—one of his top reasons—he could always have a front-row seat to his mom’s cooking. He was lucky and extremely grateful to have parents who were still willing to support him, not that he ever should have had any doubts in the first place. He thought of some of his older cousins who had stayed with their parents until their early 30s. They were able to save money, buy their own houses, and lead successful lives. Max wanted to follow that same path. Doing so meant sacrificing the short-term benefits of moving out for the long-term goals of a comfortable life. What was adulting if not making those kinds of decisions? Giving up the apartment meant losing his autonomy and independence from his parents. Max loved them, but he still needed to establish a life for himself that wasn’t attached to them. Having his own place made that easy, and now, he would have to find a new way to make it work. Moving back in was the smart and practical choice, and Max was nothing if not those two qualities. It was the best thing he could do for himself at this point in his life. He had finally found peace with the notion and was ready to carry it out. Ella pumps her fist and shouts, startling Max. “Yes! I knew you would come to your senses. Mia owes me ten bucks now.” Max arches an eyebrow. “You had a bet with your sister on whether I would move back in?” Ella shrugs. “Yeah. We were originally going to bet on whether you would find a job before your birthday, but we didn’t want to put those vibes out into the universe. You’re welcome.” Max rolls his eyes. “I hate both of you.” “Love you, too, cuz.” She blows him a kiss, and he swats it out of the air. “Let me change, and then we’ll go get sushi for lunch to celebrate.” As she heads upstairs, he calls after her, “I’m going to order the most expensive rolls! Your treat!” The clouds drift past, allowing the sun to cast the kitchen in a warm glow. Max shifts his gaze out the window. His aunt’s colorful tulips sway in the breeze. A family of birds chirp in a tree. The neighbor’s kids laugh and scream with each other. He’s still riding the high of being offered a job. A spark of hope ignites inside him. He had survived the winter of his unemployment and was now ready to spring forward into a new beginning. Editors: Nadine R. Nikki J. Emily X., Zoe L., Joyce S., Sam L.

Author’s note: I wrote this piece for a writing contest. We had to write the first chapter of a fantasy story. It could be about whatever we wanted, but the only requirement was that it had to start with the line ‘There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.’ What you’re about to read is the world I created from that one line. This is different from the other pieces I’ve written for DAY in that it’s not directly inspired by real-life events. It’s purely a fantasy story that allowed my imagination and creativity to run wild. Being able to write a story with all-Asian characters without explicitly saying they’re Asian was liberating. Middle-school me would have loved to read something like this. And who knows? Maybe this could turn into a full-fledged novel one day. Until then, thank you for taking the time to give this piece a chance. Happy reading! :) Chapter 1: There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Back in the day, as Grandpa liked to start his stories, dragons were almost hunted to extinction by humans who thought they were superior. The Crystalguard were a group of humans working together with the remaining dragons. I couldn’t remember where the “crystal” part came from, but it still made them sound really cool. Since then, dragons and humans have lived together in harmony here in Garusha Valley. We lived by rules and agreements set by our ancestors who walked amongst the dragons to avoid the sins of our past. Any humans who break those rules are banished from the village. While it was never confirmed, many of us believed that banishment was a euphemism for being offered to the dragons. The thought alone was enough to keep everyone in line. Our rules kept us safe, and safety kept us alive. Although, if there was one person I would love to feed to a dragon, it was Basho. Basho the Boar, as I liked to call him. He was the village bully who thought it was his dragon-given duty to torment the other kids. At seventeen, he was the oldest teenager in the village… and the meanest. He and his two minions, Faraj and Minho, would rough up boys who accidentally bumped into him. Basho would flirt with girls who repeatedly rejected him, which only motivated him to keep at it. I tried telling my parents, but they dismissed it as “boys being boys.” I’m a boy, and even I knew that was a terrible excuse. I even went to Basho’s parents directly, thinking they would be outraged at their son acting so terribly. But they assured me that their beloved Basho would never commit such terrible acts. Of course, the brute found out and gave me a black eye. And when I told people how I got it, no one believed me. If my brains were brawn, I would have stripped him of his self-proclaimed title of King of Garusha. Alas, I was as skinny as a twig with the muscles of a newborn. I couldn’t do much except patch up the kids who had been on the receiving end of his fists. My mom taught me what herbs to crush into a poultice that could be used to dress wounds and the best way to wrap bandages to stop bleeding. Those skills helped, but I still felt powerless. Having power meant making the first move, not cleaning up the mess afterward. An unsolicited pearl of wisdom my mother had once shared echoed in my mind. Yuri, there is great strength in choosing not to fight. Yeah, right. The sun hung high in the sky, bathing the village in light and warmth. Twice a week, after lunch, I stood in line at the butcher’s shop to purchase meat for dinner. My mom wanted lamb for tonight. As the line shuffled forward, I listened to the sounds of the village. Other vendors hawked their wares, competing to be heard over another. Children wove between the legs of villagers, their laughter accompanied by shouts from their parents. Some of the adults and older teenagers chopped wood into logs for kindling. The noises were a rhythmic cacophony I had grown used to. The smells of salt from the sea and freshly baked goods from the bakery only added to the place I called home. To the right of the butcher shop was a vendor that sold his own dishes if you didn’t feel like making your own. Various meats and fishes sizzled over open flames, each seasoned with certain herbs and spices. I picked out notes of garlic, ginger, and peppers that blended together in a symphony of scents. My mouth watered at the beef skewers, egg rolls, and ramen bowls. It was all I could do to not jump out of line and buy all the dishes being sold. The line moved forward. An elderly woman was at the front. Basho was the customer after her. He did his best to keep his face neutral among the other villagers, but I could see the familiar scowl itching to come out. He clearly wanted to be anywhere else but here. Faraj and Minho were nowhere to be seen, which was strange. Maybe they were on a break from being Basho’s sheep. The woman in front of him purchased her goods and continued chatting with the vendor. That wasn’t uncommon. Everyone knew everyone, so there was always something to talk about. Gossip was exchanged just as often as coin in our little village. Basho’s shoulders heaved. His foot tapped restlessly against the ground. The placid façade he wore melted into annoyance. He snapped. His body went rigid. He clenched his fists. He shoved the woman aside, knocking her against a wooden post. The fruits and vegetables tumbled out of the basket she was holding. The people in line gasped. He might as well have committed murder. The first thing you learn growing up is to always respect your elders. No exceptions. Ever. There may not have been any dragons nearby, but I could spew my own kind of fire. “Basho, what is your deal?” I shouted at him. “I know you have the intelligence of dragon dung, but you must be a new breed of stupid if you think it’s okay to hurt the elderly.” The bully turned around. His long, unkempt hair covered one eye. He thought it looked stylish, when it actually resembled a wet rat that had been flung onto his head. There was a glazed look in his eyes. His body stiffened again, like a jolt of lightning had passed through him. He relaxed just as quickly, and awareness returned to his gaze. Basho blinked. He stared at the woman, at me, at the people who were glaring at him. “How dare you hurt her!” someone yelled. “You should be ashamed!” “I just want to get my beef.” “What? I… I didn’t…” The words wouldn’t come out. He looked on with helplessness and confusion, but no one showed him any sympathy. Basho turned and ran. I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Basho preferred fight to flight. That was low, even for him. Whatever. I needed to buy the lamb and get back home. I crouched down next to the woman. A few strands of silver hair had fallen out of place from her bun. A villager helped me lift her up back onto her feet, as a few other people gathered her fallen produce. “Are you alright, Auntie?” She wasn’t really my aunt, but that was what we called the older women. The village was like one big family, and I took pride in that. She dusted herself off. I couldn’t see any visible injuries. “I’ll be fine, dearie. My bones may be old, but they’re still resilient. Maybe now people will see how much of a brute that Basho is.” She flashed a smirk. I let out a small noise of surprise. She was the first adult who had acknowledged Basho’s reign of terror. She did have a point, though. Basho usually messed with the other kids when the adults weren’t watching. He had never done anything so public before. “Thank you for standing up to him,” the woman said. “Will you walk me home?” My parents would wonder where I was, but they would also understand. They would rather me show up without the meat than refuse to help another villager. I could get the lamb on my way back. “Of course, Auntie.” I took the basket with her produce and meat. She directed me to where she lived, and we strolled through the village. The woman would comment on certain buildings. There was the bakery that stopped selling her favorite scones. The bookstore owner secretly supplied her with the steamiest romance novels. And she actively avoided Uncle Shu’s house because he supposedly only bathed once a week. In our few minutes together, she was more interesting than most of the other adults in the village. Aside from the landmarks, she also shared that she was a widow who lived by herself. The other villagers avoided her because of her radical choice to not have any children. I’m sure my parents had something to say about that, as well. Her house was at the edge of the village. I didn’t remember anyone living this far out, but I also rarely came this way. Ivy grew along the gray stone walls. Some shingles were missing from the otherwise intact roof. A raven perched at the top studied me with its ink-filled eyes. “Thank you for helping me, sweetie,” she said, a warm smile filling her face. “Your parents raised you well.” “Happy to help. Is there anything else you need before I go?” I really needed to get back to the meat vendor before the lamb ran out, but my manners had a mind of their own. “Actually, there is one thing. Are you familiar with the cave inside the Burning Forest?” Everyone in the village knew about that cave. The hills surrounding the valley were dotted with caves where the dragons made their nests. The humans lived peacefully with the dragons mostly because both species stayed a respectable distance from each other. However, there was one cave in the Burning Forest that supposedly not even the dragons entered. If the swirling rumors of the village were to be believed, it housed a cursed dragon. No one could verify it because no one dared to find out. The Garushans were a superstitious bunch. The strange noises and lights that emanated from the cave were seen as bad omens. The leader of our village forbade anyone from venturing into it. We all obeyed her; even Basho and his male ego never went. All the rumors only made me more curious about the cave, though. But as much as I wanted to investigate, I could never work up the courage to, lest I invoke the wrath of my parents if they ever caught me. I shuddered. “The one no one is allowed to enter?” “Yes!” she said with enthusiasm. “I go up there to meditate.” She said it so casually, I almost missed it. “Wait, you’ve been inside the cave? The one with the cursed dragon?” She dismissed my words with a wave of her hand. “Child, there is no cursed dragon. In fact, there’s nothing in there at all. Just rocks and bugs. It’s precisely because no one else goes up there that it’s the perfect place to fortify the mind.” It made sense, but the fact that someone had been going to the cave still unnerved me. Our village prospered because everyone followed the rules. Although, that never stopped me from wondering what secrets hid in plain sight in the valley, and that included the cave. And it was because my curiosity was stronger than my comfort that I asked my next question. “What do you need from me?” “I’m leaving for some business tonight. I forgot a jewel in the cave. It’s a family heirloom that has been passed down for generations. It reminds me where I came from, so you can understand the sentimentality I have for it. I would fetch it myself, but I have to tie up some loose ends before I go, and venturing to the cave will take up too much time.” Her implication was clear. “You want me to go to the cave to get this… jewel?” “If it’s not too much trouble.” I bit my lip. Going to the cave was forbidden, but that just made me want to see it even more. If this woman was going up there to meditate, then it had to be clear of any danger. And it would be disrespectful to not help her… “No trouble at all,” I said, ignoring all the trouble my mind was imagining I would be in. If anyone from the village found out, the news would spread like wildfire. My parents would confine me to the house until I died if the village leader didn’t exile me first. What if they ate a buffet of food in front of me and left me nothing but scraps? The thought chilled me and almost made me reconsider. I just needed to be back before dark. The only thing more ferocious than the dragons were my parents when I was late for dinner. The woman clapped her hands. “Wonderful! The jewel is in the shape of a teardrop. It’s the color of a blazing sunset. You can’t miss it.” The description made me even more excited to see the cave. I pushed down the nerves bubbling to the surface. I would be in and out, and no one would know. “I’ll go right now and bring it back here.” “That would be much appreciated.” She clasped my hands in gratitude and gave me another smile. In the light, her dark eyes almost looked violet. “You’re a reliable person, Yuri. You must bring great pride to your parents.” “You’re going to bring so much dishonor to your parents,” said my cousin, Jinda, “and to your cow!” I poked my head out from behind a tree, searching for any dragons. Their eyesight and sense of smell were far better than ours—they would find us before we found them. The only living things I saw in the forest were a family of robins and a squirrel running up a tree, its cheeks packed with nuts. Well, them and Jin, who, similarly to the squirrel, was stuffing her face with almonds like she was stocking up for winter. “We don’t have a cow.” “Well, if you did, it would be ashamed of you for breaking the rules,” she said between bites. “I still think this is a terrible idea.” She adjusted the strap on her bag that contained enough snacks and medical supplies for an entire army. A roar in the distance drew out a startled squeak from her. “I told you not to come.” I glanced back at her. Where my short hair curled into wisps of shadows, hers was tied in a braid and fell down her back like spilled ink. Jin’s eyes were the color of rich soil flecked with gold, a trait that was prevalent in our entire family. Her skin was a slightly lighter shade of brown than mine. People used to confuse us for siblings, given our similarly rounded cheeks and small lips, and how much time we spent together. She kept looking over her shoulder. Jin may have been fourteen years old, but she had the anxiety levels of a farmer whose crops hadn’t grown all summer. “And I told you that you would rush into danger headfirst and get yourself injured and probably die.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sixteen years old, Jin; I’m basically an adult.” She snorted. “A real adult would remember to pack food, but I suppose that’s what brilliant cousins are for.” She tossed an almond in the air and caught it in her mouth. Other family traits we shared were a quick wit and a healthy appetite. “And what did you tell your parents you were doing? Not the truth, I imagine.” I dashed to another tree. Even if there wasn’t a cursed dragon, I could still pretend there was and act like I was sneaking up on it. “I told them I was hanging out with you. It’s not a lie.” “It was a lie when I caught you sneaking off by yourself.” “And then you threatened to tell my parents if I didn’t let you come with me.” She was bold, that much was certain. We made our way through the trees and up the hill. The Burning Forest was, in fact, not actually burning. It got its name from the leaves on the trees. Instead of the typical green, they were the color of fire—deep reds, bright oranges, and vibrant yellows. A traveling merchant once told us this was the only place he had seen leaves this color outside of autumn. No one in the village could explain it. We thought it was normal, but the merchant’s observation made it sound like the fiery hues were another part of the cave and the cursed dragon. Regardless, the vision of embers caught in the branches was stunning to behold. A lark flew nearby, and I traced its path. It flew across the valley, gliding on a soft spring breeze. I went to the edge of the hill and gasped at what I saw. “Jin, come look at this!” She muttered something about pushing me off but stopped when she reached me. Garusha Valley was spread out before us. The hill we were on wasn’t too high up from the village, but the perspective was still breathtaking. The homes of the village were arranged in two lines down the wide path that had been carved out by our ancestors. Smoke rose from vendor stalls as they cooked their specialties. The villagers milled about like the toy figurines I used to play with. The rice fields north of the village took up a large part of the land. The grain was a huge staple to our way of living, so we made sure we had enough. The golden stalks swayed in the wind. To the east, the Zonlei River snaked through the ground and into the Halgongu Sea. On the other side of the valley, emerald trees dotted the landscape. Over a dozen cave entrances were laid out among them. The homes of the dragons. The caves were hard to see from the ground, but you could catch a glimpse if you stood in the right spot. Dragon sightings weren’t uncommon, especially since the fearsome creatures lived so close to us. The roars shook our homes. Streams of fire streaked across the sky, disappearing until they were little more than sparks blending in perfectly with the Burning Forest. Sometimes the fires were misinterpreted as falling leaves, but it was far enough away not to cause any danger. Up here, though, there was more activity. I spotted two baby dragons wrestling with each other on the mountains in the distance. Despite being babies, they were still twice as long as I was tall. Their long bodies sparkled like water. Small antlers protruded from their heads. A face emerged from one of the caves. This dragon was the same cerulean as the babies, but three times as big. Her antlers nearly scraped the top of the cave mouth. Two long whiskers trailed from her massive jaws. When she called out to her children, I saw rows of sharp teeth gleaming in the sunlight. The baby dragons stopped their play fighting and flew into the cave. The dragon sniffed the air and flared her nostrils. She swiveled her head and stared right at me. I held my breath. We were separated by the entire valley, but I almost believed I could reach out and touch her. She held my gaze for a few seconds and then retreated back inside. “Did you see that?” I asked. “The baby dragons?” “No, the mother. She looked right at me.” Jin sighed. “You climb one forbidden hill, and now you think dragons are staring at you.” “I swear, Jin, she—” “Yeah, yeah. If we’re late for dinner, I will do things to you that would make Basho cry. Are we going to the cave or not?” The cave. The jewel. The woman. I had almost forgotten why we were up here in the first place. The view was mesmerizing, but the spell was broken. The sun was just about to kiss the top of the mountains. Time to get what we came here for. Jin led the way this time, motivated by the simple fact that the sooner we got the jewel, the sooner we could go home. She pulled out freshly made pork buns from her parents. She tossed one at me, and I almost fumbled the catch. The bun still gave off steam. I blew on it, took a bite, and savored the soft dough combined with the seasoned meat. It tasted like home. I appreciated the snack and burst of energy, but I wasn’t going to tell my cousin that and give her the satisfaction. “Wait, do you smell that?” I took another bite. “The pork bun you just gave me?” Jin took a large inhale through her nose. “No, it smells like… incense.” “Incense?” I tilted my head. We only lit those when we were praying to our ancestors. And Jin’s nose never lied; it’s why we were convinced she was a dog in a past life. We increased our pace, spurred by our curiosity. The trees cleared the closer we got to the top. Eventually, they ended in a small clearing at the top of the hill. A large cave loomed in front of us. The sunlight only reached a few feet inside. Beyond that was a thick, impenetrable darkness. I couldn’t see anything, but I could certainly smell something. The familiar scent of sweet, fragrant smoke wafted from inside the cave. Jin was right. Someone had lit incense sticks and given how strong the smell was, it was recently, too. I should have been worried, or at the very least suspicious, but instead, I wanted to find the source. Besides, Jin was nervous for the both of us. “Who would light incense up here?” she asked. “It’s probably the woman. Maybe it helps her with her meditation.” But as I said the words, they didn’t feel right on my tongue. Jin frowned. “What was her name again? I can’t think of anyone in the village who looks like the way you described her.” I started to answer and paused. She hadn’t given me her name, now that I thought about it. But she knew mine, even though I didn’t remember telling her… I shook myself out of my thoughts. I was overthinking it. The woman was most likely acquainted with my parents, which was how she knew my name. “Let’s just hurry up and find the jewel, and then we can go back to the village.” “Ugh, being related to you is so stressful. Hold on.” Jin rummaged through her bag and pulled out two lanterns. They were smaller than the ones the village lit at night but much more portable. Jin struck a match, careful to avoid the trees. She lit the wicks of the candles inside the lanterns and handed one to me. We entered the cave. Our lanterns barely pierced the blackness, but we pressed forward. Something scurried across the floor, and Jin yelped. “If there is a dragon in here, you just cost us the element of surprise.” “If worse comes to worst, I’ll use you as a shield and go get help while it’s feasting on your skinny bones.” The cave was longer than I thought, but we didn’t see any diverging paths. Stalactites and stalagmites dotted the ceiling and floor like the broken teeth of a long-dead dragon. We followed the smell of incense. It reminded me of the village’s New Year’s celebrations. The scent of the sticks guided our ancestors to the world of the living, much like they were guiding us now. In addition to blessing us with health and good fortune for the next year, the spirits would partake in all of the food we offered them. My mom liked to joke that the ancestors on my dad’s side only came for the alcohol. Lighting incense in a dark cave on top of a forbidden hill seemed… lonely. A soft glow appeared in the darkness. Jin and I shared a look. We moved faster, heading toward the light. At last, we reached the end of the cave. The glow came from a plethora of candles. Many were on the ground, while a few were carefully placed in recesses in the walls. Incense sticks stuck out from jars of dirt. In the middle of the light and smoke was a stone pedestal that came to my waist. A small object glinted on top of it. “This is it!” I cried. I bent down to study the tear-shaped jewel. The woman wasn’t kidding. Blues and pinks and golds swirled inside, like a sunset frozen in time. There were even a few swaths of white that resembled clouds. I reached down for it— “Stop!” shouted Jin, making me jump. “Are you crazy?” “What? I’m taking the jewel for the woman.” My cousin arched an eyebrow. “Okay, not crazy. Stupid. You said the woman forgot her ‘family heirloom’ here.” Jin gestured to the pedestal and the surrounding decorations. “How do you forget something that important that’s been placed in some… shrine? Altar? Yuri, something’s off about all this.” I drew my hand back. Jin had a point. This was clearly the jewel the woman had mentioned. Did she not know about the altar? Before I could sift through my questions, the sound of footsteps shuffled against the ground. No, not footsteps. There was a scraping sound that accompanied them. My heart stopped. They were claws. “Who dares trespass on these grounds?” The deep voice echoed throughout the cave. Dust rained down from the ceiling. “Jinda, get behind me.” I searched for an exit, but it was pointless. The cave was just one long tunnel. The wall was at our backs, and whatever had spoken came from the front. We were going to be trapped if we didn’t do something fast. The source of the voice came into view, illuminated by the light of the candles. White scales shimmered like a rainbow across a serpentine body. An ivory horn protruded from its head. Two long whiskers flowed in an unseen breeze. Purple eyes trained their focus on us. Rows of teeth as long as my arms flashed their dagger-sharp edges. So much for just rocks and bugs. I gulped. I always imagined I would meet my first dragon by pulling a thorn out of its feet. Then we would become best friends, and it would let me ride on its back after dinner every night. Suffice it to say, the current circumstances were a far cry from that scenario. The creature narrowed his eyes at us. “I thought I had imagined smelling two small children near my cave. Didn’t your leader prohibit anyone from traversing this hill?” Jin quivered behind me. Somehow, I found my voice and managed to not soil my pants. “She-she did.” “And yet, you still came, the first of your people since the order was made. Why?” “Yeah, Yuri, tell him why.” Jinda had mustered up enough courage to deliver her trademark sass. I figured lying to an apex predator was a bad move. “A woman told me she left her jewel here. The-the one on your altar.” The dragon paused. “No one alive knows about the crystal. No one except…” He drew closer. I could smell the burnt meat of his last meal on his breath. His eyes widened. All of the scales along his body bristled. “Your eyes… They’re flecked with gold. That means you two—” I had no idea what he was talking about, and I didn’t care enough to find out. Getting Jin out of there was my first priority. So I did the most logical thing in the face of danger. I threw my lantern at the dragon. The glass shattered across his face, startling him more than hurting him. The few seconds it bought us were enough. I grabbed the jewel, barely registering that it and the woman were the reason I was about to be eaten. “Run!” My cousin didn’t need to be told twice. She dashed out of there faster than a gazelle. I followed after her and her shaking lantern in the darkness. I didn’t make it very far, though. Something strong yet soft swept my feet out from under me. The jewel was thrown from grasp. I fell against a stalagmite, the stone cutting into my arm. Jin called out my name. I pressed my hand against the blood and looked over my shoulder. I expected to see an enraged dragon about to have a late lunch, but instead, alarm filled his eyes. “The blood of Tung Ra…” he whispered. I needed to get out of there. I scanned the ground for the tear. It had landed a few feet away from me. I staggered to my feet. The dragon’s voice was almost a roar behind me. “Don’t touch the jewel!” Ignoring him, I wrapped my fingers around the crystal, my blood staining the surface. The jewel grew warm at my touch and then turned hot, as hot as the fires back in the village. Searing pain lanced up my arm, burning me from the inside out. A scream ripped from my throat. I tried to let go of the tear, but my fingers wouldn’t release it. My mind and body couldn’t handle the agony. I collapsed to the ground. The last things I remember were the sound of glass shattering and the cave exploding with light. Editors: Joyce S. Nikki J. Nadine R.

Dear Asian Youth, All good things must come to an end. This will be my last piece for Dear Asian Youth as a member of the writing team. Typing those words feels simultaneously strange and calming. But I’m getting ahead of myself. After all, what’s an ending without a beginning? It was January 2021. My friend–shoutout to Julianne Liu–sent me an Instagram post about an organization called Dear Asian Youth that was taking applications for writers. My first thought? What the heck is Dear Asian Youth? I had never heard of it, but I saw the word ‘Asian’ in it and was immediately intrigued. After doing some research and realizing it was an organization by Asian youth for Asian youth, I knew I had to apply. My job at the time had transitioned to a hybrid role due to COVID, so I had more time to write. As cliche as it sounds, I remember thinking to myself, The stars have aligned for me to do this right now. After an interview with the then-Editor in Chief and Chris Chew (who was late and made it to the last five minutes of my interview), I was offered a position as a writer. Of course, I was ecstatic for this new role. However, it didn’t take long for me to get hit with a wave of imposter syndrome. It was very apparent that, at 24 years old, I was on the older side of members. I was overwhelmed, to say the least. Here was this majority of high schoolers who were so passionate and active in their communities. And there I was still finding my voice and feeling like the new kid at school. I had no idea what I was doing. Then the tragedy at the three Atlanta spas in March 2021 happened. I was already wrestling with my feelings from the surge of anti-Asian racism during the pandemic. This was a blow to my heart. Within DAY, a call was put out on Discord for people to write a piece together detailing what happened and what it meant for the Asian community. I wasn’t going to join because I was still so new and hadn’t written anything yet. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the tragedy fueled by the anti-Asian rhetoric that surged when the pandemic began. And what do I do when I can’t stop thinking about something? I write. I pushed through my own insecurities and volunteered to join the writing project. If memory serves, I contributed one paragraph because I didn’t want to step on anyone else’s toes. I didn’t think much of it until the piece was posted to Instagram, and I saw my name listed as one of the contributors. A balloon of pride swelled within me. It wasn’t just for the fact that I co-wrote my first piece for DAY; it was also that I had done it with other people who felt just as strongly about the incident as I did. I wasn’t used to working on a group project where all of the members actually pulled their own weight. Being a part of and witnessing firsthand other Asians coming together made my imposter syndrome evaporate. I was chosen to be a writer. There were no mistakes. I deserved to be there just like everyone else. That was the start of my journey. Almost two years later, I’ve written 13 other pieces, including this one. If it weren’t for the posts on the website, I wouldn’t have believed that I had written all of those. In case you were curious, my favorite pieces I’ve written are… How Do I Tell Him? (It was the first solo piece I ever wrote for DAY) Wrought with Gold (I am very proud of navigating the rhyme scheme) Letter to You (This one gave me closure) I Accidentally Break the World (This was a labor of love that I hope to expand on one day) Being a part of DAY has taught me a lot about writing and about myself. I learned that my words resonate with people. My ideas have weight and they matter. That’s as gratifying as any compliment I’ve ever received. I learned that Asian voices are loud and strong. We just need a stage to let it all out. I thought I would be with DAY for at least another year, but the funny thing about life is that it happens when you least expect it. As much as I love writing for this amazing organization, it did take away a lot of time from my other writing projects. I have a first draft of a novel I hope to publish one day that has been collecting virtual dust. I put that and other endeavors on pause, so I could focus on DAY. Now it’s time to focus on me. Writing this last piece is bittersweet, but it’s time for me to start a new journey. Before I go, I’d like to acknowledge some pretty awesome people. Thank you to all of the editors at DAY who have given me feedback on my work. You made me a better writer (I’m still working on having varying sentence lengths). I appreciated that your feedback was always constructive and never demeaning. You helped sharpen and refine my pieces to what they are now. Be nice to the writers and give them scraps of positive reinforcement every now and then. Thank you to all the writers who are putting their work out into the world. Your voices are vital and necessary, and I am inspired by you. Get your drafts in on time, so your editors don’t come for you! Thank you to the leadership team who created a safe space for Asian youth to be their authentic selves. Amidst constant restructuring, you’ve maintained the core values and atmosphere of what DAY represents, and I know the members are grateful for that. Thank you to the “mute channel” option on Discord. You’re all delightful people, but getting the onslaught of notifications made me want to throw my phone across the room. I will miss the app the least. And most of all, thank you, dear reader, for making it through the ramblings of a young adult. I hope you were able to take away something from what I’ve left here. If you’re thinking about applying, do it! You have nothing to lose and so much to gain. There is space for you, and DAY will give you the opportunity to grow and cultivate your potential. Plus, it looks good on a resume. If/when you’re accepted, get involved as much as you can. Ask questions, attend meetings, join writing nights—whatever you can to get the most out of DAY, so you can give it your all. You won’t regret it. I sure didn’t. Sincerely, Eric Nhem