Cousin Harry’s Tale
All posts by Kimberly
The Muggle Born Dursley
The owl came on a Wednesday morning, right as Dudley Dursley was buttering toast and trying not to think about calories. His daughter, Emma, was eating cereal with the quiet intensity of someone who had, two days earlier, accidentally exploded the vacuum cleaner.
The owl perched on the kitchen windowsill and blinked at Dudley in a deeply judgmental way.
Emma frowned.
“Dad… there’s a bird.”
“A very big bird,” Dudley muttered. He put down his toast, walked to the window, and — with the grim resignation of a man who had expected this since the vacuum incident — opened it.
The owl swooped in, dropped a thick envelope onto Emma’s cereal, and flew out again without so much as an apology.
Emma stared.
“Dad… is this…?”
Dudley sighed. “Yeah. It’s the thing Harry warned me about.”
Emma tore open the envelope. Inside was the cream-colored letter, the green ink, the crest, the impossible words:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
She screamed. Dudley flinched.
He took a slow breath. “Alright,” he said carefully. “Don’t panic. We’ll call Harry.”
Emma blinked. “Why?”
Dudley scratched his head. “Because he’s… sort of the family expert.”
He didn’t tell her the truth — that somewhere between the dementor attack, the apology he never voiced properly, and the awkward Christmas cards, Harry Potter had become the only person Dudley trusted with this.
Betting on Reality: Kalshi
I’m pretty late to the game when it comes to the Kalshi app. For those who haven’t heard of it, Kalshi is a betting platform, but not just for sports. It lets you wager on almost anything: elections, pop culture, even whether a public figure will make a surprise appearance somewhere. It’s the stock market of “what if.”
I’ll admit it’s oddly thrilling. I’ve lost some, but I’ve mostly won. My bets are small, a dollar here, five dollars there. Just enough to make it interesting. If the risk is too high, I scroll past or add it to my watchlist. It’s not about chasing money; it’s about watching the world unfold in real time, and feeling—however briefly—that I might know what’s coming next.
I first heard about Kalshi from South Park. The episode aired back on September 24, 2025, lampooning the idea of everyday people trading on the news. I laughed at the absurdity then. Two months later, on a slow November afternoon, I downloaded the app myself.
Up until now, my only wager had been a simple one: Will Donald Trump attend the next UFC event? He didn’t. I lost.
But the thing about gambling—whether in Vegas or on your phone—is that you should always play with the expectation of losing. If you win, great. If not, that’s the price of curiosity.
Today, curiosity got the better of me. I deposited $100. After several hours of betting on questions ranging from geopolitics to Trump’s media habits, my portfolio was up eight bucks. Not bad for a day of digital guessing.
Some wagers even pay out early. For instance, if a market closes on December 31, 2025, but the event happens sooner, your result gets locked in. It’s oddly satisfying — like breaking news, but with a cash prize attached.
My current record?
Will Trump release the Epstein Files before December 2026? No: +$0.63
Will Eric Adams stop being a Democrat? No: +$1.00
Will Trump meet with Xi Jinping this year? Yes: +$1.00
Will Trump’s approval rating increase this week? No: +$12.00
Will Trump attend UFC 320? Yes: Lost $0.90
I haven’t touched the sports markets yet. As a Los Angeles Kings fan, I checked the odds for their upcoming game against the Toronto Maple Leafs. The numbers depend on whether Auston Matthews plays. If he’s out, the Kings’ odds rise to about 55 or 60 percent. If he’s in, it’s a toss-up. That’s not a gamble I’m ready to take—not when my heart’s on the line, too.
In the end, Kalshi isn’t just a betting app. It’s a mirror for how we experience uncertainty. Each market is a reminder of how little control we have over the future, and how much we crave the illusion of it.
As you can see, I’m more up to date on politics and current events than on sports or entertainment news.
For now, I’ll keep my bets small, and my expectations even smaller.
I Am Not AI
With AI on the rise, it’s difficult to tell what’s real and what’s not. There are some content, for example, images, videos and writings that are obviously AI, but some, not so much. Is it really getting that advanced? As I am writing this, I’m using a very casual tone. So, if I put it in an AI detection post, I should I expect 0%, right? RIGHT!
Of course, I’m right. That’s because this is the most casual tone I am writing in. Are we going to write academic papers like this? Nope.
As a college student, how do you protect yourself from being accused of using AI when all you did was work with a tutor? I suggested a student of mine (whose second language is English), take our essay to the writing center at your school and if your teacher accuses you of AI, tell them you just went to the writing center.
Why are we “blaming” the writing center? Beacuse the school’s blaming the student when all he did was… hire a tutor.
Notes
1. This is the most casual I can be without typing in “dude,” “like,” in random places and phrases like “yeah, no” to mean no… and “no, yeah…” to mean yes. California, right? Gotta prove I’m not AI, amiright?
2. Yes, this style was intentional. No, this isn’t how I usually write. And if you’re a parent or student wondering whether this is how I tutor—rest assured, it’s not!
3. As of this posting, the professor/school has not accused the student of AI– the AI detector accused him of it. I’ll keep you updated… (see how casual that sounded?)
Executive Dropped from Miss Grand International Following Explosive On-Camera Argument
Updated November 9, 2025
By now, many of us have seen the viral video of the blatant disrespect shown to Miss Mexico, Fátima Bosc, by pageant director Nawat Itsaragrisil. I was so happy to see, not only the strong women of the competition, but also men and women around the world supporting her and condemning Nawat. If you haven’t heard this story, the gist of it is–
Fátima Bosc was elected to represent Mexico in Miss Grand International to take place in Thailand in October 2025. Bosc is a Mexican model and beauty pageant participant known for her work within national pageant competitions. She developed an interest in modeling and personal fitness at a young age, building a public presence through social media and local fashion events. Her confident stage performance and strong communication style helped her advance through state and national pageant circuits.
Having grown up in Tabasco, she has openly shared that she was diagnosed with ADHD, dyslexia and hyperactivity, which she overcame with determination and used as a platform to inspire others in similar situations. She has collaborated with the organisation Fundación Gritos de Amor supporting unaccompanied migrant youth, and has spoken out about cyberbullying and the need for positive digital environments.
Miss Grand International was founded by Nawat Itsaragrisil– a television producer and businssman based in Bangkok, Thailand. Nawat launched the pageant with the slogan “Stop War and Violence,” promoting the idea of women coming around the world to promote a more peaceful world. Today, it is one of the most popular pageants alongside Miss Universe and Miss World.
Nawat founded Miss Grand International (MGI) pageant, which he launched in 2013. The competition was built on the vision of creating a modern and interactive pageant, unlike traditional pageants. Nawat has a hands-on leadership style and frequently uses social media to communicate with the public directly addressing controversies and defending the decisions he makes. He has been both praised and criticized by the public for his authenticity but also for his confrontational persona.
What was the conflict between Fátima Bosc and Nawat Itsaragrisil?
Nawat addressed all the ladies encouraging them to not only promote Thailand’s tourism industry, but also promoting his private businesses. It is not unheard of for the contestants to promote their host countries. However, just because Nawat is a sponsor for the pageant, should he also get this “free” promotion from the contestants.
It is not unheard of for contestants to be paid for endorsements. However, they are usually legal contracts between the businesses and the contestants. Bosc simply stated that she must speak to her director before promoting any person, business or cause. This makes sense.
Rather than addressing her concerns privately, he criticized her in front of thousands of viewers. During the livestream he mocked her, calling her a “dumb head” outraging people around the world.
In solidarity, other contestants followed Bosch leaving the event. Nawat then calls security to close the doors and LOCK THE WOMEN INSIDE THE ROOM WITH HIM!
After international outrage, Nawat offered a crocodile-teared non-apology.
Boo-hoo!
The situation quickly turned into an online controversy, with fans debating who was in the wrong. Many people supported Bosc and said no contestant deserves to be insulted for speaking about their experience.
Unfortunately, Nawat has not officially faced any consequences via the pageant. He still runs Miss Grand International and is still active on livestreams and social media. However—there were reputational consequences after the conflict with Fátima Bosc and other contestants. Fortunately, he is no longer allowed anywhere near the contestants. According to MUO’s executive decision, Nawat has been restricted from participation in the pageant events for this year.
Who owns Miss Grand International? Miss Grand International was founded by Nawat– I was curious to know who was in charge and why Nawat was not removed from the pageant after this viral incident. He simply faded into the background. So, it turns out… it’s his pageant! What does this mean? It means… it’s his pageant! He is a businessman who just created this pageant. He owns this pageant!
Miss Grand International is run through Miss Grand International Public Company Limited (MGI Group), which has been listed on the Stock Exchange of Thailand (SET) since 2022. Because it is a public company, it is required to have a Board of Directors, corporate filings, and shareholder meetings. So on paper, yes—there is a board. However, the key point is that Nawat owns the controlling stake, meaning he controls the voting power, appoints board members, and can remove them at any time. As a result, while the board technically exists, it ultimately answers to him, not the other way around. This is why he can fire national directors publicly, criticize contestants openly, change rules without consultation, and make sudden policy decisions—he holds the real power within the organization.
Since this controversy, Nawat has faded into the background. Is he gone completely? Nope. Sadly… it’s his pageant. (Didn’t I already say this?) Maybe with enough pressure, he will be forced to give up his stakes and truly step away from it.
Unfortunately, “what he says goes…” This doesn’t mean he doesn’t suffer consequences for his extreme disrespect for the women recently and in the past (which is well-documented). His reputation in the international community has been shattered– especially in Latin America. He can’t be removed from his own organization, but the backlash he has faced will for sure damage the trust, credibility, and global support of this organization.
Note: This executive’s full name Nawat Itsaragrisil. However, he is usually professionally referred to by his first name Nawat. Nawat has branded himself around his first name. He signs off on livestreams as “Nawat”
The Smoke of War and the Question of Justice
In the searing silence after an airstrike, amid the dust and cries, lies a question that haunts the rubble: Can there be justice in war? And if so, who is held accountable when justice seems absent?
Nowhere is this question more visceral than in Gaza, where the long-standing Israeli-Palestinian conflict has entered yet another blood-soaked chapter. With images of bombed-out hospitals, collapsed schools, and children buried under concrete flashing across our screens, a legal—and moral—reckoning looms. Across the world, diplomats, lawyers, and human rights observers are asking: Should Israel be charged with war crimes for its actions in Gaza?
The term war crime is not rhetorical. It has a legal definition under the Geneva Conventions and international humanitarian law. It denotes violations of the rules that govern the conduct of armed conflict: targeting civilians, using disproportionate force, destroying civilian infrastructure without military necessity, and obstructing humanitarian aid. These are not accusations to be made lightly. But they are not new either.
In recent months, Israel has faced intensifying scrutiny for what many call a campaign of disproportionate retribution. Entire neighborhoods in Gaza—one of the most densely populated regions in the world—have been reduced to ash and twisted steel. The stated target is Hamas, the militant group responsible for deadly attacks on Israeli civilians. Yet the overwhelming force unleashed upon Gaza’s 2.3 million inhabitants, more than half of whom are children, raises a grim question: At what point does self-defense become indiscriminate violence?
International law demands distinction between combatants and civilians. But in Gaza, where militants may fire from rooftops above families, or move through tunnels beneath playgrounds, that distinction becomes tragically blurred. Israel argues that Hamas uses civilians as human shields—a tactic the group has been credibly accused of. Yet legal scholars argue that this does not absolve an attacking army of its obligations. If a target is surrounded by civilians, the laws of war still apply.
In one particularly chilling incident, a refugee camp was bombed in pursuit of a single Hamas commander. The strike flattened buildings and killed dozens, including children. Israeli officials said it was a necessary operation. Critics, including human rights organizations, called it a textbook example of disproportionate force.
The concept of collective punishment—punishing an entire population for the actions of a few—is also at the heart of the case. Israel’s blockade of Gaza has long been a subject of international criticism, but in the latest war, the siege has tightened. Electricity, water, medical supplies, and food are restricted. Aid trucks wait for days or are turned away. UN officials describe Gaza as “hell on earth.” One called it “a graveyard for children.”
These aren’t just the laments of war-weary observers. The International Criminal Court has opened investigations into alleged war crimes by both Israel and Palestinian armed groups. The process is slow, often toothless. But the fact of the investigation matters. It signals that the machinery of justice, however creaky, is engaged.
To some, accusations against Israel amount to political theater, ignoring the atrocities committed by Hamas—suicide bombings, indiscriminate rockets, and hostage-taking. But others argue that accountability must be universal. Justice is not a ledger balanced by who suffered first or most. It is a principle applied without regard to who you are, or which side you fight for.
And so, the question remains: Should Israel be charged with war crimes for its actions in Gaza? The answer may not lie solely in the legal chambers of The Hague, but in our collective willingness to insist that war—even war—has limits.
Because if justice does not reach the rubble of Gaza, where will it reach at all?
References
Amnesty International. Israel/OPT: Unlawful Israeli Attacks Kill Civilians in Their Homes. October 20, 2023. https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2023/10/israel-opt-unlawful-israeli-attacks-kill-civilians-in-their-homes/
Associated Press. “UN Says 100 Children Are Killed or Injured in Gaza Every Day Since War Resumed.” AP News, April 5, 2025. https://apnews.com/article/un-gaza-children-war-deaths-cc3c58ea21de6a982f20cb82b6e5a2b0
The Guardian. “Israel-Gaza Conflict: IDF Bombing Kills Dozens in Jabalia Refugee Camp.” The Guardian, October 31, 2023. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2023/oct/31/israel-bombing-gaza-jabalia-refugee-camp
Human Rights Watch. Gaza: Israel’s Warnings Do Not Make Strikes Lawful. October 12, 2023. https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/10/12/gaza-israels-warnings-do-not-make-strikes-lawful
International Criminal Court. Situation in the State of Palestine. Accessed April 30, 2025. https://www.icc-cpi.int/palestine
Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA). Occupied Palestinian Territory: Humanitarian Needs Overview 2024. United Nations. https://reliefweb.int
United Nations. “Gaza Has Become a ‘Graveyard for Children,’ Says UN Chief.” Al Jazeera, November 6, 2023.
Why “Boom Boom Tel Aviv” Became So Popular—and How It’s Making a Difference
A Song That Broke the Internet
Released on June 20, 2025, “Boom Boom Tel Aviv” instantly ignited a global reaction. Reports estimate the track racked up nearly 600 million views within 24 hours on platforms like TikTok, Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and YouTube—despite being repeatedly removed due to policy violations. Its virality was so intense that even after takedowns, the song kept resurfacing across the web.
A Political Pop: Using Music as Weaponized Messaging
Rather than a feel-good dance hit, “Boom Boom Tel Aviv” is a deliberately provocative political statement. Its lyrics depict a powerful act of retaliation—offering Tel Aviv a taste of the terror that Palestinians have endured under Israeli military operations:
“This is what you get for all your evil deeds
You were mocking dead kids, but now you’re getting hit
Iranian missiles have your entire skyline lit
Now you feel terror like the Palestinians”
Visually, it pairs stark footage of missile strikes on Tel Aviv with that aggressive refrain, amplifying the song’s symbolic power.
Crafted by a Controversial Creator
The song’s author, Lucas Gage, is a former U.S. Marine turned political artist. In interviews, Gage frames the project as an act of truth-telling against what he perceives as Israeli oppression:
“For a few months now, I’ve been making music to spread the truth about Israel and Jewish supremacy. After Iran’s retaliatory strikes, the idea… just came to me—leading to the creation of ‘Boom, Boom, Tel Aviv.’”
He underscored the power of music to move emotions—a universal language that transcends borders and beliefs:
“If you want to capture the heart and soul… you need music… The enemy has used the music industry… it is only logical for artists to turn music into an antidote.”
A Digital Banner—and Real-World Usage
For many sympathizers, this track became more than music—it became a digital protest anthem. Users strategically paired it with videos of Iranian strikes, turning it into a shared expression of outrage. In some cases, the song was even displayed prominently on a banner at the funeral of an Iranian commander—cementing its symbolic role in resistance narratives.
Divided Reactions: Support, Satire, Criticism
Across regions like Iran, Turkey, Pakistan, and Lebanon, the song received acclaim as a poetic form of retaliation and justice. It resonated with those who believed Israeli aggression had gone unchecked for too long and saw Boom Boom Tel Aviv as retribution delivered creatively.
Why It Struck Such a Chord
The track deploys direct, incendiary lyrics paired with punchy beats—ideal for short-form creation. The repetitive “boom‑boom” hook is instantly memorable, making it irresistible for creators looking to sync visuals or tell a story in 15 seconds.
Unfiltered Messaging
Unlike polished protest songs, this track offers a blunt, almost primal message. The absence of nuance—its unapologetic tone—only amplified its resonance among listeners who felt traditional discourse had failed to hold power accountable.
Sociopolitical Ripples
Digital Solidarity and Protest: The song became a tool for digital activism, bonded across borders under a viral hashtag. It allowed users to express solidarity in a format that blends politics and pop culture.
Censorship vs. Visibility: Attempts to remove the song from platforms only increased its visibility. As Gage put it, censorship only highlighted its unifying power.
Cultural Flashpoint: Boom Boom Tel Aviv has become a cultural divider—embraced by some as anti-imperial expression, and decried by others as extremist incitement. As social discourse evolves, its role remains a litmus test for where cultural satire ends and hate speech begins.
The Verdict
Boom Boom Tel Aviv is more than a viral hit—it’s a sociopolitical phenomenon that leveraged the emotional power of music and the immediacy of digital media to become a flashpoint in global conversation. It demonstrates how a short, aggressive track can resonate universally and polarize in equal measure.
By stirring both solidarity and controversy, the song highlights the complicated interplay between storytelling, activism, and identity in our global media landscape. Whether viewed as resistance or propaganda, its ability to spark debate marks it as one of 2025’s most consequential musical statements.
Recognizing and Diagnosing Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder
Prevalence and Overview
Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) affects an estimated 9.8% of American children aged 13–17 (CDC, 2022f). Globally, about 5% of children and adolescents under 19 are diagnosed with ADHD (Wüstner et al., 2019). While occasional inattention or impulsive behavior is normal for children, ADHD involves more severe and persistent symptoms that disrupt school performance, home life, and peer relationships (CDC, 2021c). Common symptoms include:
- Daydreaming
- Forgetting or losing items
- Fidgeting or squirming
- Talking excessively
- Making careless mistakes or taking unnecessary risks
- Struggling to resist temptation
- Difficulty getting along with others
Diagnosis
ADHD diagnosis requires a multi-step evaluation by a pediatrician or mental health professional. There is no single diagnostic test. Because other conditions—such as anxiety, depression, sleep disorders, or learning disabilities—may mimic ADHD, assessment typically includes:
- Medical examination
- Hearing and vision screening
- Symptom checklists completed by parents, teachers, and the child
ADHD often persists into adulthood, with about one-third of affected children continuing to meet diagnostic criteria later in life. Adult treatment options include medication, psychotherapy, or both (CDC, 2021c).
Types of ADHD
ADHD is classified into three presentations (CDC, 2021c):
- Inattentive: Difficulty organizing tasks, following instructions, or paying attention to details; easily distracted; forgetful in daily routines. Symptoms may be mistaken for laziness.
- Hyperactive-Impulsive: Excessive fidgeting, talking, restlessness, or constant movement; impulsive behaviors such as interrupting, grabbing objects, or speaking out of turn; difficulty waiting or listening.
- Combined: Equal presence of inattentive and hyperactive-impulsive symptoms. Presentations can shift over time.
ADHD Across the Lifespan
ADHD is not limited to children. Older adults, often undiagnosed, may seek medical advice when they notice increased forgetfulness or difficulty completing tasks. Diagnosis is sometimes prompted by family history, as ADHD is one of the most heritable medical disorders (Collier, 2020).
Nursing Support for Families
Nurses play a key role in supporting families by:
- Educating parents about strategies such as consistent routines, organized environments, minimal distractions, clear instructions, and positive reinforcement.
- Encouraging exploration of extracurricular activities to build self-esteem.
- Promoting healthy habits, including balanced nutrition, physical activity, and adequate sleep.
- Referring families to community resources while considering cultural, financial, and social contexts.
Clinical and Safety Considerations (QSEN)
When caring for a client with ADHD, nurses should:
- Recognize that inattention may hinder participation in care.
- Support involvement in healthy, social activities.
- Allow decision-making time to respect individual abilities.
- Screen for co-occurring disorders (e.g., anxiety, depression, learning disabilities).
- Emphasize injury prevention due to impulsivity and risk-taking behaviors.
Medication Management
Stimulants—such as methylphenidate (Ritalin), dextroamphetamine (Dexedrine), and mixed amphetamine salts (Adderall)—are first-line treatments due to their rapid onset and proven safety record. These medications act on dopamine and norepinephrine systems and are available in short-, intermediate-, and long-acting forms.
Key considerations:
- Pre-treatment evaluation: height, weight, vitals, cardiovascular history, substance use assessment.
- Common side effects: insomnia, appetite loss, stomach pain, headache.
- Less common: tics, emotional blunting.
- Abuse potential: classified as Schedule II controlled substances; monitor for diversion or misuse.
Alternatives:
- SNRIs (e.g., atomoxetine/Strattera): helpful for comorbid depression or anxiety; no abuse potential; black box warning for suicidal ideation in youth.
- Alpha-2 adrenergic agonists (e.g., clonidine): used alone or with stimulants to reduce hyperactivity or aid sleep.
Behavioral Therapies
Behavioral interventions aim to reduce disruptive behaviors and increase positive behaviors. For children under six, parent training is the preferred first-line therapy. For those over six, a combination of medication, parent training, and school-based support is recommended (CDC, 2023e).
Community Resources
Families can access resources such as:
- National Resource Center on ADHD (CHADD, 2023): helpline, educational materials, advocacy.
- American Academy of Child & Adolescent Psychiatry ADHD Resource Center: treatment information, video guides, clinical resources.
- SAMHSA provider locator for local treatment options.
Pinkies Up! Phones Down!: The Tea Party
It begins, as many rebellions do, with something small. A kettle whistles. A hand reaches for a ceramic cup. The clink of porcelain, the scent of bergamot, the hum of conversation at a volume that does not require raising one’s voice. Somewhere in Orange County, a grown woman is hosting a tea party, and it is not ironic.
The return of the tea party among adults may seem, at first glance, like an indulgence in nostalgia: lace doilies, cucumber sandwiches, a brief flirtation with the trappings of an imagined Edwardian leisure. But spend an hour in the hushed, leaf-scented glow of such a gathering, and something else emerges. This is not regression. It’s resistance.
Tea parties have always been about more than tea. In the Victorian era, they were a sanctioned space for women to hold court, discuss politics (obliquely, of course), and perform domestic grace with sharpened edges. In today’s iteration, the performance is gentler, less prescribed. The modern tea party trades status for presence. There is no DJ, no signature cocktail, no pressure to network. Just warm liquids, eye contact, and, occasionally, cake. There is definitely no talk of politics. The hostess once said, “If all my friends talked about politics, I would have no friends left.” So… no politics.
This is not to say tea parties are inherently profound. They can be frivolous, even fussy. But that’s precisely their charm. In a world calibrated for optimization, the act of steeping loose leaves, of ironing napkins, of preparing food too small to be practical—feels like a deliberate reclaiming of the inefficient.
There was no formal menu, no spreadsheet or signup sheet, and yet everything arrived as if preordained. A fancy cake from 85°C Bakery with a smooth lavender fondant. A plate of finger pastries arranged like a constellation. Each guest brought a dish—not out of obligation, but out of care, the kind that says: I thought of you while boiling this jam. The host, meanwhile, had conjured a setting so improbable it felt like a dream remembered from childhood. A table in the garden, draped in linen the color of antique postcards, flanked by thrifted chairs and the rustle of nearby leaves. China cups with gold rims caught the sun in uneven flashes. Everything matched, from the china down to the flowers in the garden. This was not a potluck; it was a quiet choreography of intention. The food was imperfect. The setting was curated. The moment—like the tea—was warm, generous, and wholly unnecessary. Which is to say: perfect.
The adult tea party is not a lifestyle brand or a call to tradition. It is, more often, a soft refusal: of noise, of urgency, of the transactional nature that has come to define so much adult interaction. It is a space where stillness is not awkward, where silence can steep.
Whether it lasts an hour or an afternoon, the tea party offers an elusive intimacy—one that asks only that you show up, sit down, and pour.
Note 1: We forgot garden music! I think that would really add to our ambiance. I love the classical takes on modern songs… like the Bridgerton soundtrack!
Note 2: No images are AI-generated. Yes… that’s really our tea party!
“Child Wants a Coffee!” A Request from Generation 2.5
Child Wants a Coffee
If I walked into a Vietnamese café and wanted to order, I wouldn’t know how to say, “May I please get one coffee to-go?” I might say, “Child wants a coffee.”
Despite growing up in a Vietnamese household, I barely learned enough to talk to my grandparents. I don’t understand the news. I can’t follow a political debate. And unless someone speaks the exact dialect my family uses, they might as well be speaking Klingon.
What I do know is the basics: how to show respect, how to eat, how to say happy birthday. I really didn’t learn to speak in complete sentences until I was 20. It was difficult and it still is. But when it comes to being polite, precise, or even casually fluent? I’m lost.
Generations
On average, it takes 2 to 3 generations for a family to lose strong ties to their homeland and cultural identity—unless active steps are taken to preserve them. Cultural loss is not inevitable, but it is likely without intention.
First-generation immigrants often hold tightly to their homeland. They speak the language, observe cultural rituals, and maintain close ties.
Their children—the second generation—are usually born or raised in the new country. They might be bilingual and bicultural, but they often feel pressure to assimilate. Cultural practices shift. Traditions are selectively passed down.
By the third generation, many speak only the dominant language and feel distant from ancestral customs.
Sociologists often refer to the “three-generation model” (sometimes called the “third-generation rule”) which observes that:
“What the son wishes to forget, the grandson wishes to remember.”
— Marcus Lee Hansen, historian
Yellow-Americans
You know what’s funny? In Vietnamese, a white United Statesian is called “Mỹ trắng.” A black United Satesian is called “Mỹ đen.” There isn’t a word for a Vietnamese or Asian person born and raised as an American. I once asked my mom, “Wouldn’t I just be Mỹ vàng,’ then?” She laughed knowing that maybe I would be the one who coined this word.
In Vietnamese, a white American is sometimes called “Mỹ trắng” (literally white American) and a Black American “Mỹ đen” (literally black American). But what about someone like me—Vietnamese by ethnicity, but born and raised entirely in the U.S.? One day I asked my mother, “Wouldn’t I be ‘Mỹ vàng’ then?” (literally yellow American) She laughed. I might be the first to coin it.
There is actually another word, “Việt Kiều,” which means “Overseas Vietnamese.” I have been told it is an outdated word.
There isn’t actually a term—no tidy phrase for Vietnamese Americans born here— and that says something. It reflects the tension between being “from” somewhere and being seen as always a bit foreign.
I lean just a bit more American than Vietnamese. (Actually, a lot more). My dad once told me, “Your grandma is Vietnamese, you’re just American.” It was in a joking kind of way, but I think somewhere in the back of his mind, there would be some time in my life that I would lose my Vietnamese identity completely.
This search for a word—any word—that captures who I am linguistically and culturally, reveals the bigger question: what happens when language can’t catch up with identity?
Note: “Yellow-American” is not an appropriate phrase in English.
Hay quá! Hay quá!
Any non-Vietnamese speaker who married into my family would do their best to learn a few polite phrases in Vietnamese. And the response they would always get is “Hay quá! Hay quá!” (“So good! So good!). But here’s the thing—Vietnamese has no exact word for “good” the way English does. A child being obedient, a person doing well in school, a magical performance—these all require different descriptors. When someone says “Hay quá!” after hearing you attempt Vietnamese, it’s like clapping for a great performance. It recognizes effort, not perfection. And it always makes me smile.
Pronouns, Titles and Third-Person
What I learned in Vietnamese is that everyone has a title. I don’t mean for it to sound fancy, but I was never taught to use pronouns. In English, whomever I am speaking to is “you,” and I would always refer to myself as “me.” That really isn’t a part of the Vietnamese vocabulary. There is “toi,” which is kind of formal, kind of informal, but definitely not familiar. And a really funny thing I learned watching Vietnamese Masterchef… “you” is “bạn” …which literally means “friend,” whether or not you’re friends. That’s always bugged me, because being a worldly traveler myself, I’ve come to learn that whenever you start hearing someone call you, “My friend! My friend!” Run.
So, I learned that we speak in 3rd person and everyone has a title (kind of). I don’t mean a title like Sir Elton John. But we all get some sort of title. For example, I am my parents’ child, so they call me “child,” and they would call themselves “mom” and “dad.” There is no “you” or “me.” Here’s an example (if my mom and I spoke Vietnamese with each other):
Mom: Hello, Child! Is Child hungry?
Me: No Mom, Child is not hungry.
Mom: Are you sure, Child? Mom can make Child something to eat.
Me: Child does not need Mom to make anything. Child is not hungry.
Yes… you read that right. No matter how old I get, I will still call myself “child” when speaking to my mom…
It sounds absurd in English. But in Vietnamese, it’s natural. The structure reflects hierarchy, respect, and relationships. You always know where you stand with someone—literally, by the word you use for them.
How Fluent is Fluent?
In my opinion, true fluency in a language goes far beyond everyday conversation. You aren’t truly fluent until you can understand legal jargon, follow a president’s State of the Union address—whether it’s inspiring or laced with propaganda—or make sense of a scientific report or complex medical terminology. By that standard, the only person I know who is truly fluent is my mom.
Generation 2.5
I will probably never be fluent in Vietnamese. I can speak bits of it, but I don’t consider myself bilingual. I can’t read legal documents, I can’t follow debates, and I can’t switch registers the way fluent speakers can. I don’t even speak “Vietlish,” the casual mix of Vietnamese and English some families use. Mine didn’t teach me slang or informal speech. I learned phrases for meals, birthdays, and ceremonies—not for daily life.
So when someone asks, “Do you speak Vietnamese?” I say, “Not really.” I know words. I don’t know jokes. I know titles. I don’t know the language the way it lives and breathes.
And yet, I feel tied to it. I’m part of that in-between generation. Not quite second-generation, not quite third. Maybe 2.5. We exist in a gap—not fluent in the language of our ancestors, and never fully embraced by the country they left behind. But we carry the sounds. The laughter. The echo of what was almost lost.
That’s the funny thing about being 2.5 generations removed: you feel both close and far, fluent and frozen, local and foreign—all at once.
And sometimes, you just want a coffee. Even if you have to ask for it like a child.
*The image of a woman with a coffee is AI-generated