My Autobiography

Preface

When I was little I remember wanting a stuffed animal.  I wanted a big brother to protect me.  I used to tell my teachers in Vietnam that I spoke fluent English even though I spoke no English at all.  I never wanted to be anything when I grew up because I never knew you had to get a job and make your own way in the world. In those days I had long mangling hair that was uncut because my father didn't believe in cutting hair for girls.  In Vietnam I remember taking group martial arts outdoors and after having watched sooooooo many martial arts movies as a child even by the ripe age of five, I told my instructors that I could easily leap onto the rooftops as they did in the movies. I got A's, B's and C's at school.  I think the question that adults often ask children--What do you want to be when you grow up? Is one that needs clarification.  Firstly, your question in living life and getting to know yourself each day, is who am I?  What am I good at?  What am I bad at?  What am I interested in?  What do I hate?  Am I a people person or an introvert?  Then the next task is to decide who other people are?  You can never know unless you participate.  You have to get in the fray to understand how hard it is to get consensus.  If you choose to sit in the corner and never experience life then learning will not magically happen.  The question--What do you want to be when you grow up? Is really asking how well do you know yourself and others?  How much have you put yourself out there and allowed yourself to fail so that you can learn from the experience?   

Being a mom, most and foremost I've made an effort to be powerful in the world to be an example to my children but there's always that fine line between being respectful and allowing oneself to being disrespected, refinement and brutality.  There's a lot that I still have to learn about life.  There's a lot that the future still may yet bring.  What I do know about myself is that my mother taught me to work hard and to keep my word.  Growing up in Las Vegas, Nevada my story became a larger story of a people that immigrated to America and contributed to making America.  It's not always pretty and it's far from perfection.  This is my story.  This is what I have.  This story  is what I own.

So far in my life I have been a real estate agent, an Usborne books consultant, a Toyota new car salesperson.  I have been a bride, a new mother, a daughter and most recently a substitute teacher.  It has been an amazing platform to make a difference in the lives of children.  On some days it's more challenging than anything that I could have imagined.

Chris Bassett and I got married in 1999 and we moved to his house in Beavercreek, Ohio on Spicer Dr.  From Kemp Road, you had to make four turns before you could reach the house.  It seemed a strange house, south facing, with a sunken living room level and a narrow hallway from the areas to the bedrooms but the house was close to Chris's work.  He was very happy about that.  

The house on Spicer is where I crawled around relentless after Bryan who was a tireless child.  My job was his entertainer.  There were endless mom's group activities, outings, me reading to him and us playing kid games.  He was my everything.  Between his naps I read about how his mind was developing and what I could do to help promote his well being.  I remember that I was never allowed to say, "No, that's bad."

Instead I had to say, "We don't that in our family."

I was never allowed to slap his hand because it discourages creativity and mostly I always gave him space to take as long as he wanted at an activity.  I suppose it was a way of being child led.  

My brain literally exploded with things that I learned each day from reading.  When Chris came home from work it was just wonderful, because I got to share everything that I learned that day.  

Then it was over.  When Bryan was fourteen he didn't get on with his little sister, Breeanna.  Chris and I were divorced.  I took Bryan to his grandfather's house and I wanted Chris to raise Bryan.  I didn't know how to manage the two children constantly bickering.  

I didn't know if I would ever find myself again after that day, after that moment.  It felt numb and surreal.  I was exhausted.  I felt like it was the best option at the time.

So let me start here in this redbrick house that I moved into a few years ago.  It sits on a quiet neighborhood street.  I have mementos around the house that reminded me that I once had children, that it was all real, photos of Bryan water rafting with his boy scout Troop down a river, pictures of Breeanna doing art at K12 Art Gallery.  The house is empty and all is quiet.

I was thinking of how late November was rolling into the Thanksgiving holidays and shopping season would be next.  Christmas was always big in our family.  You either had to believe in Santa Clause or return all the presents ever given to you.  

My ex-husband is recovering from a stroke in May of 2021 which affected his right brain and took out control of the left side of his body.  

Bryan is twenty.  And Chris's sister, Cathy has custody of Breeanna, who is currently fourteen.

And here I am, with me and my life, and with but a few things to say.

1

The first place I've ever lived was Vietnam.  I remember the beaches, the rolling waters, the crusty sand.  When we were done swimming and sunbathing my mom and I would walk along the city sidewalk plucking and eating  tamarind from trees that grew along the sidewalk.  

For me there was kindergarten and then eventually first grade.  After school Gna, my nanny and I would go to the open air market to purchase food to cook.  The smell of fresh caught fish was pungent.  Vendors offered their wares.   The Marketplace was bustling with activity.  On the way home was ice cream. My father said I would turn into ice cream in my afterlife because I love it so much.  

Mom was strict about memorizing passages verbatim from my school books.  It felt good to be in school knowing that I had over prepared for a lesson.  I felt like I had the advantage.  

We never celebrated birthdays or Christmas that I could remember.  Vietnam was simply all about New Year and doing things to get good luck and good fortune for the new year.  For kids, we got money encased in red envelopes.  It was called li xi.  Neighbors and family friends would give kids money.  It was just the tradition.  Kids would dress in their finest clothes and all wander the streets with lighted paper lanterns of varying patterns.  It's the only festive holiday I remember.  The house would be laden with sweets and baked treats.  Even though the Vietnam War was ongoing I suppose for a day, we set aside our strife and allowed for hope of a better tomorrow.

My father was a Vietnamese/French paratrooper.  He enlisted for the South side of Vietnam.  I had one picture of him in his uniform.  He was a well decorated soldier with slight curls.  Uncle said that the family frowned on mom marrying someone who wasn't full Vietnamese.  France did colonize Vietnam at the time and they robbed us of our resources.  I could understand how the French were not popular.  Mom never said much of him but I know that she cared for him deeply.  When she became pregnant with me he was announced missing in action.  Vietnam was a third world country so there was no social net.  If you don't have a job, well, you just starved.  I guess life must have been really hard for my mom trying to make ends meet and having a kid to raise.

She was in Vietnam during the Tet Offensive when the North Viet Cong blew up a city during New Year.  Ballistic missiles blasted concrete buildings like a house of cards.  It must have been terrifying.  Afterwards as mom rode her scooter though the countryside, a battalion of Viet Cong made their way along the road.  Mom came up to the captain and spit in his face.  I guess life was cheap in a war, and sometimes the right thing to do is simply to make a stand.

2

We moved first to Malaysia then to Singapore.  In Malaysia we lived in an apartment on the beach.  Each day I would go to collect sea shells which littered the beach like treasure in a dragon's lair.  There were sand dollars and starfish and conchs.  I gathered an army of opposing sides enough to face off and do an imaginary battle.  We lived in Malaysia for a month then moved to Singapore.  In Singapore everyone spoke Chinese which meant that I couldn't readily understand their conversations.  I attended second grade.  My best friend was Lucy.  She lived at the church.  We did most everything together.  She had the most gentle and sweet disposition, very unlike myself.  After school on some days my friend, Monica and I would sneak into the local Chinese cinema to watch epic Chinese battles on the big screen.  We could enter the theater through the exit doors.  In school we had to learn English and a foreign language.  I chose Malaysian and failed miserably.  I could barely understand English at that point even though no one in my circle spoke Vietnamese anymore.  We lived in an upstairs apartment on top of a hill.  Singapore has the best taffy candy.  Daily the candyman would make his rounds through the neighborhood like an ice cream truck but there was no music to announce him.  Of all the candy ever made in all the world nothing ever came close.  

At the bottom of the hill going to school every morning there was a Chinese marketplace that I passed through.  The fragrance of duck noodle soup wifted in the air alluring passersby to a delicious meal.  

School was truly strange.  I didn't understand anything.  And then one day my mind flipped a switch.  I decided to not think in my native language anymore but only English.  I could make more sense of the world after that.  

3

In 1976 we moved to the island of Hawaii.  It was the bicentennial year so everyone had flags fluttering in from yards.  I was well traveled by the ripe age of ten and thought Americans to be strange people compared to other cultures that I had encountered.  Nowhere else do people display flags afront their dwellings to this extent!  In 1977 all the flags were put away and it was back to business as usual.  

The beach had a special calling to me. The water held endless fascination and I swam in it's swirls and ebbs as a native.  We lived in Hawaii for a month.  One day mom took me to the Bird Live Park.  Parakeets would hold tiny umbrellas while bicycling across a tightrope.  Pigeons would play a hardy game of ping pong.  

4

Next we moved to Dallas, then to Wichita Falls, Texas.  I attended third grade and Mark was my best friend.  Wichita Falls was truly my initiation into English immersion so if anyone ever hears a twang in my speech then y'all know the reference point by which it got there.  

During the afternoons when my father, Benny Huggins was at work, mom worked from home, fashioning clothing for Vietnamese people. She took measurements, pricked things into place, and worked her sewing machine. She had a steady stream of customers. The clothing that could be bought in American retail stores were made for a larger breed of people. Simply put, Vietnamese people found themselves living in a land of giants, which meant that clothes had to be tailored, to look appropriate and proportioned. Sewing was a work from home job that kept mom busy.

Texas was the land that bred dad. It was his native country. I remember the smell of cow manure as we drove the lonely roads. Texas is cow country where ranchers drive their herds. It's also an oil country where oil rigs scatter the land constantly pumping black gold.

5

Mom got notice that her best friend lived in Las Vegas, Nevada so that's where we settled.   I'd have to say that Las Vegas is hot.  Summers were sunny and winters were mild. I was in fourth grade and my best friend was Lila Johnson.  After school I went skating.  There was a rink nearby and I could do magical things on wheels including going really fast and darting through crowds, as well as skating backwards.  Mom signed me up for Tae Kwon Do.  My superpower was getting beat up everyday.  There was free sparing before class and inevitably, I would get the wind knocked out of me from a higher ranking belt.  In a way it taught me that however bad the pain was, that it eventually subsided.  That was a very important lesson.  My takeaway was physical confidence. No matter how big someone, was I've started them before and I knew how to win.  In hand to hand combat if you want to win, you must never allow your opponent to recover, not to think, not to plan.  The essence is speed and overwhelming strategy.

Mom got a divorce from Benny Huggins and married Jack Lewis. We drove cross country to Florida one summer. It was the summer that I read the Hobbit series. I became enthralled in the life of the unambitious Bilbo Baggins and his adventures with the wizard, Gandalf and the company of dwarves.  

We saw countless national parks and explored the beauty of our great country.  

By the second half of fifth grade I lived with Hoa and Needham to finish out the school year. Everyday after school Needham and I would play chess. I became rather good at it after a time.

Mom had bought a house south of town out in the country. There was a front house and a back house, a pool. Mom got to know the neighbors and became friends with them. We had chickens and mom grew vegetables.  

Mom never spoke much of sending money home to her brothers and sisters in Vietnam, even when she had made it out.  Our country had fallen and dissenters were sent to reeducation camps for years.  The country was in turmoil after the North took control and sending money was a sneaky proposition as the postal workers monitored all incoming mail.  Mom not only took care of me but also cared for so many families back in Vietnam that didn't get out.  It must have been a hard burden to bear.  Mom was just withdrawn and stressed.  It was hard enough to make a life in the United States let alone having the financial burden of many other siblings helpless under a new regime.

In fifth grade I spoke English with a southern dialect that combined the language of African-American slaves, the lowcountry area of Charleston, the Appalachian and plantation regions.  It was hard for other kids to embrace that difference that lay between us.

Sixth grade was a magical year because my best friend was Rodney Jeldes.  We understood each other.  We had that magical bond that circumscribed words.  I could just be silent with him and have a world of meaning pass between us.  I took the violin but never was very musical.  I took a carpentry class.  We worked leather for a while but then I transferred out.  I got into advanced math but then got demoted to regular math.  Sixth grade was a pivotal year for me in many ways.  My crush was Phillip Bell.  He wrote me a letter when he went away once.  So years later when Rodney said that Phillip never liked me, I had proof!

All too soon it got to be seventh grade then eighth grade.  My friend was John Keen.  He was just the nerdiest goober and I loved him so much.  I actually laid a huge kiss on his cheek for Christmas one year.  He made me laugh in French class all the time.  We played Dungeons and Dragons at lunch on some days.   On other days he was my ticket to playing football with the band of boys.  

Mom decided to open a jewelry store so that was my job after school and on weekends, working at the store.  14k gold meant that there was 58.3% gold and 41.7% alloy. Diamonds were the hardest of gemstones.  Jack got certified in gemology and mom learned how to make and repair jewelry.  

In high school my friends were Mary Lee and Robert Werbicky.  Mary was Korean and very reserved.  She died in a car accident shortly after I graduated from college.  Robert dreamed of creating a space colony orbiting earth.  He was in ROTC and loved blowing things up.  He was my sidekick.

The high school years passed without fanfare.  Summers in Las Vegas were hot.  The sun was always beating down.  Political events happened in the world like Jimmy Carter, the hostage crisis, Ronald Reagan, the cold war.  Those were things that happened on TV.  They were far removed from the life I actually lived.

At home mom was in charge of cooking and left a share of house cleaning on my shoulders.  My retreat from the world was on the pages of books from The World According to Garp to Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, White Ring Wielder to Stranger in a Strange Land.  My nose was constantly between the pages of a book.

My worries about high school could be filed under this heading: Am I good enough?  There were girls that were so incredibly beautiful at school.  I found myself to be incredibly wanting.  I wasn't skinny enough, symmetrical enough, stylish enough.  The answer was no.  High school was a dreary time.  The jocks had their endeavors.  The "in" crowd had their endeavors.  I was listless, just subsisting.  I felt invisible.  I think that life is hard for an only child because of the profound loneliness.  School provided little reprieve from the monotony.  I didn't know the next step for me would be college.  I didn't know what college meant.  If kids knew what they wanted to be when they grew up, it wasn't me.  I was an enigma to myself, a blank slate, entirely unformed.  I took a lot of hard math classes in high school and failed miserably.  In high school, there was just me.  I lived in this bubble.  Me.  Others.  It was hard to relate.  I don't think that I was relatable and maybe that was my worst failing.

...

10

Bryan

I loved Bryan consistently. There was so much joy in his childhood. I've never over managed him. My goal has been to raise an adult. There were guidelines, not "rules". When it came to what was appropriate I made him think about what was right and what was fair. We would then negotiate it.  

I always trusted him to stick to his word. In doing so, it taught him to self regulate, and to think about what was right, instead of merely trusting others. There were laws in society and Bryan must coexist with them to get by, but wherever there was leeway, then the value and extent of right and wrong was something that my son was proficient at. Once he grilled me for precisely 120 minutes about the tooth fairy: why was she late; why was the money on the floor instead of under the pillow; why did she exchange a tooth for money during an afternoon instead of at night when you sleep; why is she inconsistent about money delivery; was she real; what is wrong with her? Good grief! I think there needs to be a manual. 

Being honorable is big. I've always taught Bryan to make choices that not only were good for him, but also were good for others. One way that honor shows itself is in Bryan's sense of humor. He is wicked funny and his jokes never hurt others. Bryan's sense of humor doesn't degrade or put down or demean. It is his superpower because he has a wicked smart brain with a foundation of philosophy and literature. 

I'm proud that the choices Bryan made for himself held him in check and that he never did something that his father and I didn't condone. The question of good and evil was a question that we examined thoroughly in reading and discussion. I've been proud of the choices he made. He's a very kind hearted person and I've loved that about him.  

As far as truth telling, my son was responsible and would have rather beared the consequences of his behavior rather than shirked them. t's something that I was proud of. It's hard for a mother to want more from life than to have a son that embraces responsibility. He's made so many decisions as a child from blue pants or khakis, red socks or black socks, spaghetti or lasagna. From day one, he has made decisions and he has had to sit with the consequences of those decisions.  

12

I can never remember a time when Breeanna did not feel grown up.  She is so charming that she steals the light in every room.  My daughter has this magnetic quality that people are just incredibly attracted to.  

Maybe on occasion she has complained that because Bryan is bigger, that he has certain more privileges than her, that he's more popular, that he's more funny, that he's so smart in school.

I've always treated my daughter as an adult I think.  I respect the way her mind works and I respect that she is a girlie girl except when she was little.

The thing is that Bryan came first.  He's five years older so then of course everybody understands how much money is spent on baby clothes.  It's just ridiculous because kids will wear it for two seconds then outgrow it.  By the time Breeanna came along being second in line and all I had the brilliant idea of saving money by putting her in her brother's clothes.  It's not like he was using it anymore.  Looking at Breeanna people would say, "My, what a lovely boy you have!"

Of course I would correct them and tell them that it's a girl.  

I got away with it because I'm thrifty and really good at saving money.  

It was a great plan until one day in preschool some kid asked Breeanna, "Are you a boy?" Well, that was the end of it.  Breeanna was so flustered by his audacity, that we absolutely had to go out at that very minute and entirely revamp her wardrobe from navy blue to glitter mermaid pink.  

My money saving plan was thwarted by a preschool boy!  Grrgh!  

There is girl power and society is very confusing to me as to how it deals with boys and girls.  With boys society doesn't give permission to have feelings.  American society teaches boys to downplay their emotions.  It's not healthy.  Boys experience sadness, pain and anger but they are not allowed to demonstrate it.  It's like society puts boys in an emotional straight jacket.  

Girls have so much freedom to be themselves but they are repressed in some ways, like girls have menstrual cycles.  It's arduous and crampy and emotional.  It's not like you're in control of your body.  Your body simply goes on this cycle where it expels blood monthly.  Boys don't have to deal with that.  Boys don't have monthly PMS, where a girl's hormones just disregulates them.  

As a mom I wanted to embrace milestones.  I told Breeanna to let me know when her period started because I wanted to celebrate it.  After all she is becoming a woman at that point, and can start having babies.  It's a big deal.  When that day finally came it was such a big hoopla in our family.  I was over the moon for Breeanna.  We celebrated by going out to eat.  I got her a gift.  It was an All About Breeanna Day and I did everything to make it festive.  The fun did not end by 5pm.  When Chris got home from work I told him that it was her day and Chris spent special daddy daughter time with Breeanna.  She just had the most amazing day because she is a girl and society is hard on girls.  For one special day we took a breath, and were simply in the moment.  We marked time from before the moment to after the moment.  

It's a book nerd thing.  I read so many books on raising kids and that was one of the ideas that was recommended so I went with it.