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I am reflecting a lot these days about my "ambiguous brown" identity. In the USA I am seen as a typical "other". When I am back in Vietnam or Italy, I am also seen as an "other." Its interesting how my ambiguous social identity often causes confusion, curiosity, and disbelief. I am often told that there is no way I could be Vietnamese.

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I think the mother and working parts of my identity become so conflicted at times, I automatically put those terms together. It's not lost on me how much there is to balance and honor.

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I see all of these parts come together to form someone who is proud of his family, loves his wife, continues to learn as both teacher and student, strives to offer care to those in most need of it, who on any given day fluctuates between able-bodied and disability and whose race calls on me to do better if I know better. My grandparents fled oppression in Germany before WWII to come to America to offer a better life free of fear and persecution for their family. I frequently reflect on that bravery as an inspiration for my own voice to call out injustice and stand for the values they instilled in me.

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The identity I am choosing to ignore is my age. :)

I know that my age can unintentionally create a disconnect between myself and the families represented in my community. It will be essential to embrace the generational gap, strive to be informed, and encourage open, honest communication that facilitates understanding and responsiveness.