Re-introducing myself (culture bearing & storytelling)
Culture bearing and storytelling may or may not pay the bills, but they light the way.
I delayed adding culture bearer as one of my titles - understood only by a subset of arts professionals even. It seemed like no matter what I’d cause confusion. If I say artist in the mainstream, most think painter or visual artist at best. If I say Thai dancer, all people see is a sparkly costume onstage. If I say chef, people think the only place I work is in a restaurant or cooking show. If I say Taiji instructor, people limit my reach to a yoga studio.
It puts our minds at ease to see each other in single lanes. But upon closer inspection, if I look at all my teachers, while they trained in one artform at depth, they are multi-faceted. My dance director has also been a restauranteur/chef (food), cosmetologist (presentation), and community leader (gathering). My Taiji teacher a bonsai hobbyist (nature) and mechanical engineer (building & upkeep). My Zen teacher a political strategist (peace), calligrapher (flow, energy transfer), flower arranger (configuration), cook (timing/estimation). In her words about what makes good tea, “no one wants a one-note oolong.” They all chose their disciplines in formation and in configuration towards their respective purposes: community, wellness, spirit. Interlocking pieces of a whole.
Yesterday, I had an exceptional Sunday that reflected all the facets of my work as culture bearer. (Not all days are like this, by the way.) It gives a glimpse into the life and logistics of a culture bearer.
8:30am Pick up meditation cushions borrowed from a Zen friend for an Artists’ Talk in Redwood City on May 10.
9:00am Returned costuming to Thai temple that was used in a school presentation - meanwhile got fed noodle soup by the director, informed her of an upcoming grant deadline, and ate with a five year old before temple school - the age I started :)
11:30am Back to Redwood City to drop off cushions at newly opened, volunteer-run Center for Creativity where I am on the steering committee. Chatted with showcasing artists and sat at a community sewing table.
1:30pm Lunch (gifted spring rolls and curry puffs from the temple)
2:00pm Listened to virtual live Dharma talk on the Platform Sutra (Zen text)
4:00pm Gym and dinner prep
6:00pm Dinner (teaching myself aloo palak, spinach and potatoes, to familiarize myself with Indian cuisine)
7:00pm Solo Taiji practice at dusk along bayside waters with fishers, birds, dog-walkers
9:00pm Reviewed calendar, TV, wind-down, shower
11:00pm Bedtime
Which brings me to storytelling as a necessary element to de-mystify culture-bearing. Modern story listeners don’t need to practice these artforms to apply their wisdom. Nowadays, culture bearing involves taking old and evolving forms and bringing them in new ways to new physical spaces and new audiences because traditional schools have declined. Yesterday, I drove around the loop of the SF Bay Area (90 miles) - stopping at traditional temples, household temples, virtual temples, nature temples, and non-explicit temple - all sites of cultivation, community, and spirit, nonetheless - and all antidotes to today’s challenges of isolation, loneliness, and disconnection.
Even though not award-winning drama, these “in the weeds” stories need to be told. Stories are the ancient, cultural “data storage and download.” So that future generations know how it was done. The recipe. The song. The stitch. The stretch. Culture bearing and storytelling may or may not pay the bills, but they light the way.
As a part Asian Pacific Islander Heritage month, I’ll be giving an adapted, virtual version of talks I gave to travelers during the December Thailand trip: Temple Ways & Wisdom, May 19 at 3:30pm PT (includes relationship to motherland, temple learning, and wisdom words - a deconstruction of Thai wisdom via language).
My long history with the Thai temple taught me well. It wasn’t just dance moves and festivals. As I led the trip in December, and chatted with our partnering tour guide, I asked her to point out a key moment in King Naresuan’s life to our group. As a Thai-American, I have holes in my Thai history, and I couldn’t tell it with confidence. And apparently, even as a tour guide, neither could she. It was not a question that non-Thai travelers would know to ask. In a moment where we could have felt embarrassed for not knowing our jobs, she said, “Damn, you American Temple kids know your stuff. Hats off to your elders.” Instead, a moment of pride between us, knowing that the ocean between us did not stand between our stories.
