Asian-Americans running for office have made headlines and history in recent years, something that must continue to achieve meaningful change in the US. To create a pipeline of future policymakers, we need mentorship programmes to excite and attract young people to consider opportunities in politics.
While breast cancer remains a leading killer when it comes to Asian women, innovation, such as using AI for detection, is fast emerging. However, the stigma attached to cancer in the region makes outreach challenging. We need more survivors to share stories, and greater awareness and education.
In the wake of movements like #BlackLivesMatter, companies and institutions in the US have scrambled to raise their diversity and equity credentials. Yet within the new departments and programmes, Asian voices are few and far between, despite a worrying rise in Anti-Asian sentiment.
Many have experienced loss of structure during the pandemic, but none more so than those suddenly thrust into early retirement by Covid-19. Amid such uncertainty, finding daily activities that provide us with a sense of normality is more important than ever.
Harvard University will expand its Asian-American Studies programme after receiving a US45 million donation. The move comes as spikes in anti-Asian racism highlight the need for Asian-American history to be better incorporated into the US education system.
The bottom line is that there is an opportunity for a new generation in their 20s and 30s to produce food locally by tapping into the agtech sector. It will take the combined efforts of the government, private business, growers and educational institutions to make that happen.
Daily life is now viewed through the lens of race, where any possible discrimination, bias or ignorance comes under intense scrutiny. But out of the negativity has come a greater emphasis on diversity and inclusion by corporate America and public and private organisations.
The tragedy in Atlanta is an awakening that enough is enough when it comes to the escalating hatred. Asian-Americans can help bring an end to violence and discrimination by keeping their voices at the forefront of change and celebrating their history.
The discrimination unleashed by the pandemic may not be a temporary aberration, after all. Asian Americans must advocate for change or risk losing what little gains they have made.
Chinese restaurant numbers in the US, which have been falling for years, are dropping off a cliff due to fear, ignorance and racist associations with contagion, a product of the pandemic and even, perhaps, a sad reminder that old prejudices linger.
The death rate for cancer patients can be brought lower through education and awareness, which will be easier to achieve when we are freer to discuss and educate others about the disease
As the festival in California marks its 61st anniversary with artists Norah Jones and Herbie Hancock, and its sister event in Noto, Japan, celebrates 40 years, organisers hope China will be next.
Newly single in her 40s, Amy Wu quickly discovers the dating game has changed, with dates expecting her to split the bill and app users seemingly all after the same thing
Don’t expect to fill up on great Asian food on a tour of Portland’s Chinatown; feast on reminders of its past instead, and make the most of the other cuisines offered by the west coast city’s eclectic dining scene
Tired of boring dates and bad company, Amy Wu decided to throw caution to the wind and enjoy activities by herself. After wine-tastings, hotel night, spas and other fun things, she wonders why she waited so long
I was travelling on the Washington metro recently, and watched as people moved swiftly away from a young woman who was coughing and sneezing and most likely suffering from a cold.
For a long time, Americans haven't cared less about Hong Kong. It was nothing personal. It was just that there was very little from Hong Kong that directly affected or interested them.
My perspective of self was altered after I got a smartphone six months ago and was swiftly thrust into the world of selfies. At university, I observed an entourage of young women brush their hair back, pout and pose. "Selfie!" they screamed.
I got my first "Yo" the other day through my smartphone. It was from a friend who had gone missing for a while - phone calls and e-mails unreturned, the Facebook pokes long since faded.
It's no surprise that social media, notably Facebook, is quickly becoming the core of our social lives, thanks to the availability and affordability of slick smartphones.
I used to be a sucker for romance - blame it on an overdose of Hollywood movies; Casablanca, Sleepless in Seattle and, more recently, Love Actually and Eat Pray Love, to name a few.
There I was, surrounded by a mountain of jelly beans spiralling down onto a factory conveyor belt in central California. I was on a packed tour of the Jelly Belly factory, whose sweets hit the headlines in the 1980s, thanks to US president Ronald Reagan's penchant for jelly beans.
A mother-in-law can be a blessing in disguise, I started to say to an American friend who was feeling down after her six-month-old daughter was rejected by the day care centre because she was crying too much. (But isn't that what babies do?) My friend was desperate.
With a single click I was engaged - just like that, the virtual ring appeared on my newly minted fiancé's page and on mine once I'd confirmed it. In less than a day, there were 67 likes and 32 comments, the most I'd received in my entire Facebook history. On the one hand, I was delighted; I am lucky in love. On the other, I was miffed that, despite how far we've come in women's rights and in accepting alternative lifestyles, marriage remains the ultimate achievement for women.
First, the good news: the furlough season is over. Being based a stone's throw from the nation's capital, the topic hits home. A friend, who'd been on furlough since the government shutdown began on October 1, e-mailed me on day 10 and said she was suffering from cabin fever. "Feels good to be back at work," she now e-mails.
I did a double take; I'd left Hong Kong and arrived at the University of Maryland and everywhere I turned there were Chinese and the familiar sounds of Putonghua being spoken. I had expected to be one of a few Chinese here or maybe even one of a few Asians, but I was anything but.
There we were, sitting in a nice Cantonese restaurant in the heart of Central's business district. It was at the tail end of lunch hour. The server disappeared after seating us.
