What’re we doing here?
[This brother ^ ruined our Power Rangers Halloween so badly with his attention-seeking appendicitis that I wrote a script about it. The nerve.]
Why am I doing this to myself? Masochist. Why don’t I do something else? Like what, become a birthday clown? Why don’t I just give up already? Love.
That’s right, I said it, love…
I love exploring the depths of people and relationships. I love offering a sense of connection through stories. I love struggling alongside my peers and sharing in their successes. But most importantly, I love the work itself, and I’m driven by the potential it has to affect others.
It’s this love that motivates me to challenge myself, to continuously learn, to stretch beyond my comfort zone, and to constantly, critically, and humbly try to make my work better, because I want to make the world better through thought-provoking, empathetic, yet entertaining stories—even if just a little. That’s what I’m doing here. So, what’re you doing here?
Distance Traveled
I named my production company Distance Traveled to honor sacrifices made for opportunities given. My paternal grandparents came from the ancient mountaintop town of Buccheri, Italy, and my mother, from the rural village of Krasang, Thailand. It’s almost unimaginable that I could be sitting here today surrounded by skyscrapers in one of the most iconic cities in the world, New York. The statistical improbability of these distant lives intersecting weighs heavily on me in the form of one simple thought: This all happened so I could become… an accountant? Pass. I have to strive for more, for the damn near impossible. They did. And where would I be if they didn’t?
In this regard, I wanted the name to also serve as a reminder that we all begin at different starting points in life. So be kind to your fellow traveler. You have no idea how far they have come, nor the impact of where they will go.
One last story…
I threw up in front of my entire class in the 6th grade. Yep, I sure did. And I’d do it again.
It was the end-of-the-year raffle, and the only thing I wanted was a VHS (not even a DVD) of 2000’s Charlie’s Angels. I felt so sick, but so close! One hour left. Beads of sweat and blatant nausea be damned, I was determined to hold out, to see it through. Alas, I’d eat those words if I could, but that would be the wrong direction.
As I show-and-telled my dad’s gourmet eggplant parm sub all over the carpet, my classmates naturally fled, all except one: the cutest boy in class. With a dimpled smile that induced many a giggle, and a swagger that said, Yeah girl, I listen to the *explicit* Eminem tracks, he sauntered over and put his hand on my shoulder — “I know how you feel, I was sick the other night.” To this day, I am still floored by the profound empathy that came from an 11-year-old boy who didn’t know how much Axe was too much Axe (any amount of Axe). This was one takeaway that changed me permanently and for the better, as it was the first time I fully understood the power and importance of empathy.
The second life-altering perspective I gained was to have faith in your own fortitude. I now believe it was fate that I embarrass myself at such a critical and mean age for children. This truly allowed me to continuously and shamelessly embarrass myself as an adult. What’s a “no,” no reply, red hot flop sweat, or socially awkward turn in conversation compared to that childhood nightmare? Nothing. So what a gift. Truly, a gift. I doubt I’d be where I am today without the courage and freedom this, and the countless other horror stories I lived through that were out of my hands and left in fate’s, instilled in me.
Fate? I know, I know. Believing in fate seems like I’m one Buddha statue HomeGoods purchase away from becoming a crystal girlie, or just full-blown Asian (I’m only half). And yet, my first real writing job was with one Mr. Edward Solomon, writer of none other than… the 2000 version of Charlie’s Angels. This is only one of many stories where I can’t understand the awfulness of an experience I’m in, then one day, I finally get to see the awesomeness derived from it and laugh. So who knows.
All of this is to say: for those who struggle to find the good in the bad, I hope this helps give you a sliver of hope and encourages you to keep your hearts soft, minds open, and will strong. It is possible to be at peace with, even thankful for, things we can’t control. To be appreciative of fate—that cruel, twisted bitch with one hell of a sense of humor—and the lessons she tries to impart us with. You’ll just have to try to see them. Good luck