Day-Old Rice

I am the youngest of four brothers, and three sisters. We emigrated from Vietnam to the US in 1994, when I was one year old. We had the typical strict, immigrant parents that expressed their love not through words, but through actions. Full tummies? Check. Dressing us up in an unnecessary amount of layers before we left the house? Check.

The majority of my Sunday mornings consisted of being woken up by boisterous laughter, mixed with the…

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