Dear America,

I understand what it feels like to want people to think you were great again. Trust me, I've been just as insecure about my own worth lately. Do I even matter to people? Do people even value me? Do I still have influence in the South China Sea disputes? Okay, maybe not that last one, that's kind of a "you" thing. But I want to fill you in on a little secret - I don't love you because you were great or because you are great. Truth be told, you've had your share of failures - slavery, Jim Crow, mass incarceration, Japanese internment, the Dawes Act, segregation, the Trail of Tears, voting prevention measures, taking on a lot more than you should've in the Middle East - to name a few. And you've done a lot of good too - becoming a trendsetter in the whole "republic" thing, establishing checks and balances, giving power to the states, being known as a beacon of artistic ingenuity and technological innovation, turning the tide in world wars, starting civil rights movements, providing a space for people to speak freely online and in the press about their faith and beliefs and thoughts and hopes, having incredible food, and attempting to be a salad bowl of cultures and ethnicities where everyone is represented and where all men are created equal. Notice I use the word "attempt" - we're not there yet, but I at least admire the ambition, if not the slight effort (wish you'd try a little harder tbh lmao).

I don't love you because of what you've done or what you're doing. What you've been doing lately actually makes me kind of sick. Electing a balloon full of cheese dust as President who spews blatant lies and divisive rhetoric was not one of your better moves, to put it mildly. And while we have incredibly high ideals of equality, of liberty, of justice for all, we haven't done a very good job of putting it into practice. My great grandfather was called a "ching chong Chinaman" and had rocks thrown at his laundromat, and my grandparents found that there were some cities that they could not move to because they had laws and housing covenants banning Asians from living there. Emma Stone says hilarious things and then the creative team laughs and gives her jokes to her male co-stars. I don't intend to draw any false equivalencies, but understand that our country was built on and by people who didn't look a whole lot like each other and that the only way we've moved forward from the mistakes we've made has been when everyone works together - those with power and privilege, and those without, and everyone in between and in the margins.

I take into account all of the morally questionable things you've done when I say that I still believe in you. You know why? I still see so much potential in you.

This year, Asian people stopped taking it without a fight and started talking back - and got noticed and heard. When the Oscars made jokes about us, we let them know how we felt, and then we kept talking about getting ourselves on-screen so we could get the chance to tell our own stories in our own ways. We may still not be demographically represented yet, but already so much has changed within a year. We are no longer relegated to just the silent and stoic asexual guy, the sage mystic, the hypersexual Asian woman, or the Dragon Lady. We get to be detectives, romantic love interests (The Edge of Seventeen), White House assistants, restaurant owners, and chefs, and as we continue to make strides, there's less pressure to have to try and encompass an entire community as one of the lone voices, and we're able to be flawed and show nuance and emote. Artists spoke back too - if it wasn't against Trump, they were trying to raise awareness of important issues, talking about the Syrian refugee crisis, the objectification of women, and standing up for Native Americans protesting the Dakota Access oil pipeline. The cast of Broadway smash hit Hamilton ignited a national controversy for their attempt to start a dialogue with Vice President-elect Mike Pence, to which he responded by saying he enjoyed the show and wasn't offended.

I didn't really live up to a lot of my goals this year, America, but what I got instead turned out being much better. I tried talking to people who I didn't normally talk to: from different aspects of Berkeley, and people who think differently about issues and culture than I do. I went abroad and saw the world differently from the other side (that's another set of articles for another time). In leading a small group this year, I learned that it takes a certain kind of humility to admit that I can't do everything on my own and that I'm in need of someone much greater than myself to even have a chance of becoming whole. And in all of these nooks and crannies of the world, I entered into, I only came out of it more enriched and encouraged because of the conversations I had with amazing people.

For as much as technology ripped us apart, it also brought us together. Every day at work in Hong Kong this summer, my coworkers and I checked the Internet to see if there was any news on when Pokémon Go would come to Asia - and when it did, we'd walk through the mall and city streets, sweating in our work clothes, moving in packs and not alone. Memes let us express the flaws we share in ways that challenged the conventions of how we talk about our failures in ways that were hella funny (and required angry reacts only). I related so much to the 'me to me' (Evil Kermit) memes that I wondered if maybe I had a problem (read: yes, yes I do), and Prankster Joe Biden gave us a little peace and let us laugh at moral outrages in petty ways. While cable news, social media, and journalism failed us in helping us root out the lies from the truth, we came to put a higher value on authenticity. Media started honestly depicting mental illness and depression (see: Bojack Horseman, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, You're the Worst, Lady Dynamite, and so on), and continued to talk about how we look like and how that affects our identities (see: Insecure, Atlanta, black-ish, This is Us, Fresh Off the Boat). The Internet was already weird and got weirder, and that musical honesty played out on the charts, with Chance the Rapper, Kendrick, Frank Ocean, and John Legend staying up in popularity and in relevance. We stopped spending our money on as many sequels and reboots and requels, and Hollywood noticed that we showed up to support originality instead (so what that there's another Transformers next year - Hollywood's always done that).

One of our greatest Olympians closed out strong with 23 medals, and we kicked butt in Rio like we always do, making stars out of strong men and women who were white, black, Latino, Asian, and everything in between. The Chicago Cubs kept us riveted to our screens, and when they won, it was hard to imagine anyone besides the city of Cleveland NOT jumping up and down, representing years of hard work and investment by GM Theo Epstein. In the midst of a seemingly endless amount of Ls, we got some wins too, America.

So neither of us had the year we wanted. It seemed like all of these things seemed to collide in exactly the right way to prevent us from moving forward - but it didn't stop us from making at least a little progress. I learned that it's better to get through all of this when you're not alone, and when you look around and realize that you're not the only one in the boat. But you know what? There was a moment on Election Night when I realized something was happening. I have struggled for so many years to articulate exactly what I think and believe, and as I saw something I clearly knew to be wrong, happen, I felt a moment of despair hit my entire body and physically tranquilize me, just as it had ravaged my body before over and over again throughout this year. This time was different. The next morning, I was a bit disheveled (another night of sleeping on the couch) and the feeling was gone, but this time, I was MOTIVATED. I was angry, and not just for myself, but for the others who weren't able to speak out in the ways that I could. For the first time in a long while, after weeks of getting sidetracked in mediocrity churning out paper after paper, I was galvanized into action, and that history was happening, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I understood my role. In everything I do, one of my mottos has always been to be a voice for the voiceless. After seeing multiple responses to injustice this year, I understand that I do not need to shout through a megaphone to incite change. I can incite change as an artist, writing my first screenplay, continuing my writing for this publication and online, and working with friends on new music. I can continue to incite change as a student by working hard and getting my education. I can continue to incite change as a friend, as a son, as a brother by listening and continually engaging, including with people who threaten those I love. I can continue to incite change as a person, and work to try and bring back decency, respect, and empathy to discourse, and not let Trumpism further divide us between the city and the country, the conservatives and the liberals, the "us" and the "other," and the blue states and the red states.

It is 2017 and I am embattled but not embittered. There's a line at the end of my favorite movie this year, La La Land when Ryan Gosling's character trying to convince Emma Stone about why jazz music is so interesting and worth investing in. Jazz is both chaos and order working in tandem, with multiple instruments playing together, but taking a variety of unique sounds and different approaches to really get a groove going. Gosling sums it all up by proclaiming, "It's conflict and it's compromise and it's all very exciting!" So get excited, America, as bleak as the future may look right now. It doesn't have to be, and it depends on our mutual efforts to make a better country together. Can I be honest with you for a quick sec?

You're really not all that great. You never were and you aren't right now. But there are many of us who, regardless of your flaws, still believe that you are ANYWAY, because we believe in the ideals you set forth 240 years ago, and we believe in what you still can be. And that's why I walk into 2017 as Lin-Manuel Miranda of Hamilton penned the Schuyler Sisters into existence with his words: "Look around, look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now!"

I sincerely believe that, America. Please don't turn on us completely and enter into the whole authoritarian phase and then get OBSESSED with Putin and Twitter wars and that whole thing. I really wouldn't want to have to come back here at the end of the year and repeat myself again. You're better than that.

Love,

Josh