Fierce Women I Know

Today I woke up angry, annoyed, frustrated–at waking up late, not being able to sleep earlier than 4 am, for procrastinating on grad school assignments, at being corrected in a work email by someone outside of my department whom I’ve never met, for not cleaning the house. For feeling so out of control of even simple, daily behaviors like sleeping early or reading a book out on the deck for 30 minutes.

I turned to writing and performing to calm myself. To channel energy into something positive and good and worthwhile. To remind myself of a time in my life when I was surrounded by an incredible community who helped me find my voice and sense of purpose. A community I’m not sure I still have as I have not nurtured it or been part of it for a while. A community I’m hoping is still there somewhere.

So here’s a little poem I wrote ten years ago that I rediscovered just last week. I wrote it for Creative Explosion, the first show I curated and hosted, and which celebrated Asian and Pacific Islander women.

The Fierce Women I Know

The Fierce Women I know
have fled countries carrying nothing
but the memory of their homeland on their skin.
 
They have outlived world wars
been bought, enslaved, persecuted
and denied the right to an education.
 
They have engaged in battles for their bodies
witnessed power corrupt their families
and felt the force of a fist against flesh.
 
The Fierce Women I know
have survived history's attempts
to break us down and wipe us out.
 
They use their strength to rewrite
what's miswritten about us
fighting slogans and stereotypes
stamped across our chests.
 
They roar from rooftops and cages
from City Hall to the steps of Congress
demanding equal access to resources.
For everyone.
 
Fierce Women know their own minds.
They call you out on your ignorance
and love you at the same time.
 
Fierce women know their own hearts
though doubts may set in once in a while.
We take on too much
but we take care of one another.
We cry out in unison when our spirits are broken
and wander alone, together until grown enough
to return home.
 
Fierce Women may hold grudges
but we remain critical and conscious
knowing the movement's beyond us
and the time and space we occupy.
 
My Fierce Sisters and I misbehave and play outlaw
Bound to nothing and no one but to who we are.
We are survivors, community organizers, lawyers,
students, poets, movers and shakers.
We are mothers, daughters, sisters, partners
Holding up the sky.

The Smithsonian Asian Pacific American Center also released CARE PACKAGE today, to help us all heal and live throughout times like these.

Workshop Performance of YAPPIE: A Musical Comedy

Two months ago I officially signed on to write the book and lyrics for an original musical about Asian Americans. As of today, we are 11 days out from the workshop performance of Yappie: A Musical Comedy.

Hours before rehearsal last night I started to get nervous. My leg was twitchy; I felt my heart rate rise; I tried to control my breathing. The magnitude of this project and the urgency to get it ready by October 4 finally hit me. I’ve spent most of the past two months writing dialogue and lyrics; thinking about dialogue and lyrics (which come at the most inopportune time, like when you’re in the bathroom); editing scenes; reading scenes out loud; discussing scenes, themes, and dialogue with the creative team; reworking the storyboard; calling my sister at random times throughout the night to ask if a scene, situation, or line is funny; doubting my own sense of humor and ability to write humor; and staring at the blinking cursor on Microsoft Word for long, excruciating minutes.

I knew October 4 was coming, but I was focused on the script, trying to let a story unfold. A story I wasn’t too sure of when I first began to write it. A story I wasn’t sure I could write given my inexperience with writing plays and songs.

At some point in rehearsal last night, I hit my stride. I heard the actors breathe life into two new scenes I wrote this week, and I let myself be proud of it. I was proud of my work. Scratch that. I AM proud of my work.

Sometimes I don’t give myself enough credit. I know a lot of women who don’t; we just do the work and keep doing the work, praise or no praise. That’s not a cycle I want to continue, so I am taking up this space. I am embracing the compliments and assurances the creative team and cast send my way. I am owning this story and this experience and everything that comes with it. I’ve been full of excitement; I’ve been frustrated; I’ve been upset; I’ve silenced myself; I’ve procrastinated on grad school assignments because all I want to do is write this musical; I’ve let the doubts take over my day; I’ve been happy. And I am always grateful.

I am beyond fortunate to work with and be supported by the dream team of Roger Wu Fu + Bobby Ge + Donna Ibale. So many factors in our individual lives converged to bring us together. When I think about it, the machinations began last summer: an arts organization focused on AAPIs was in the works in which Donna was a founder; Roger and Bobby started their graduate program at Peabody; I quit my job. None of us thought we would be here right now, days away from the premiere of an original musical (maybe Donna). But here we are. And it’s exactly where I want to be.


Yappie (a combination of YAP, a young Asian professional, and yuppie) follows the story of Grace, a young Asian professional living her best life in the corporate world. Or is she? Passed over for a promotion, Grace finds herself in the unlikeliest of places: auditioning for a musical. Having spent most of her life living up to the expectations of her family, Grace begins to question who she is, what she wants, and what it means to be Asian American. Yappie: A Musical Comedy promises to be a fun journey asking hard questions about identity and stereotypes with tons of empathy, warmth, and lots of laughs. 

Story by Roger Wu Fu, Jenny C. Lares & Bobby Ge

Book & Lyrics by Jenny C. Lares | Music & Lyrics by Bobby Ge

Directed by Donna Ibale | Produced by Roger Wu Fu & Donna Ibale

Tickets: $8 General Admission, $5 for college students, Free for JHU students/faculty/staff