Cold Rice Creative Cohort

Channelle Jose

Home is not just one place for me. Home is the area where I bring my friends who come from out of town. I introduce them to different restaurants and tell them about my childhood growing up in the neighborhood as we drive by. It is where I can drive by some houses and talk about how those houses did not exist when I was growing up. Home is where my heart smiles, where I am reminded of my grandmother and the struggles my family overcame as immigrants. This specific area is between San Pablo, El Sobrante, Pinole, and Hercules.

Annabella (Bella) Mey Saechao

My art pieces actively work to break down generational barriers and address traumas within my family, and myself. My art is a platform for those who feel outcasted and lost in the world. Through examining the intricate details of my drawings and vivid symbolism, my creations serve as a guiding force for myself and others to reflect on self-understanding and growth. This artistic practice is my sanctuary and is what I call home.

Miyah Saeyang

Home for me can sometimes have a quite literal definition. It is the place that I eat, sleep, rest and create… It is the physical space that I curate. My home is full of color and soft surfaces and smoke from the jasmine incense floating in the air. Sometimes my home holds a mental purpose. There’s a sense of security and occasionally complete isolation. I can rest and exist without performance. Growing up and still today, I feel as if I am always attempting to perform. The pressure of people’s perspectives is exhausting… at work, in public, with family. We change who we are to fill the form that’s expected of us. We aim to appear solid and well-adjusted. When I am home, I feel good in my physical body. My spirit is fluid and boundless in my space. I am with myself or with community that requires nothing of me.

Mich

I believe that what “home” is greatly varies from person to person. Personally I think that home is a feeling. The feeling of comfort and familiarity, knowing that you are safe and not in any sort of danger. Growing up I’ve always felt unsafe in the place where I live. I’ve always had a tumultuous relationship with at least one person living in my house if not multiple. Once I got my own room and space, that was when I began to conceptualize “home” more. For the longest time I wouldn’t let anyone into my room because it was my only true safe space- It was the only place where I didn’t have to keep any secrets. Home for me is where I can be comfortable and open about myself; my room, my friends, and (some of) my family.

Madi Lapid

My sense of home is not confined to a single physical place or a certain group of people. Colors are universal; they can communicate an array of emotions that are too difficult to translate into words. I find blue to be a vast and flexible color because of its dual existence in the physical world and abstract ideas. Blue is also indicative of other emotions besides sadness, such as imagination and freedom. For this reason, blue has the power to describe the complex experience of having minor feelings. On a personal level, the color blue holds a place of safety for me because of its vulnerability and nakedness. It has a deep cultural connection to me as well, as Hmong embroidery is commonly done on blue cloth.

Lee Thao

My personal definition of home is with my family. I believe my close relationship with my family members and the family focus tradition of the Hmong people is what influenced my understanding of home, belonging, and safety. I feel as though no matter where you go, as long as I’m with them I know that I’ll be safe and sound. When I think of home, I am sometimes reminded of the traditional ceremonies held at my grandparent’s house. Usually all my relatives show up and I have fond memories of running around as a child with my siblings and cousins, all united under a roof for a certain time. Additionally these traditional ceremonies can be done to heal the spiritual soul which always brings me comfort to know that my family is watching over me.

Kylie Lapid

There are places where I return to after a long while and get a sense of nostalgia. I remember that at one point, that place was my home. I think of the memories I have at that place and I think of who I was in those memories. Home may be a place of familiarity and belonging, holding both good and bad memories that shaped who you are. But those feelings come from things other than places: friends, pets, family, etc, they all can hold familiarity and belonging too. After moving houses multiple times in my life, I’ve learned that home can be better defined as a sense or feeling rather than just a place. When my family moved out of their house in Lodi, I didn’t feel too sad. I had nostalgic memories of this house sure, but looking back at it most of these memories were me with my family. The feeling of home wasn’t from the house, it was from my family. So even after moving, I never lost that feeling of home.

Grace (Gen)

Comfort and familiarity has been a big factor in shaping my understanding of home, belonging, and safety. Growing up home, belonging, and safety meant pungent smells of herbal medicine for aches, falling asleep in fetal position on grandma’s lap cradled in her junh after a bath, home cooked meals after school (that I always counted as my lunch so I could have a second dinner later) and enjoying the taste of soft day old cold rice with some freshly cooked veggies. Those are some memories that made home, home for me and gave me comfort, belonging, and safety. As I’ve been learning to grow into my own person I’ve learned that home doesn’t have to be one entity. Home doesn’t always have to be physical either. Comfort is still something I look for in a home; however familiarity isn’t always something that I can find, but that doesn’t mean I can’t foster it into existence.

Chua Xiong

Home is where you create it and the people you can return to. I resided in the same house for 19 years before deciding to move two hours away, discovering my second home where I formed lifelong friendships and met my partner of 9 years. In Sacramento, CA, I relocated at least 5 times over 8 years. I made a move to Hawaii to explore and live my most authentic life, and moved back to Sacramento during the pandemic. Despite my frequent moves, one constant remains—I've maintained and often strengthened my relationships. Home, for me, is with the people who provide a sense of familiarity, safety, love, and comfort.

Asia Saechao

How and where I define home, as well as how I navigate my relationship to “home” is actually a great responsibility that ultimately impacts the land and peoples (human/nonhuman) that have lived in relation to these places since time immemorial. In that sense, home for me is spiritual, and relational. As someone who is neurodivergent, it’s always been easier for me to form nonhuman relationships. These relationships have deeply informed how I feel belonging and understand/shape my definition of home. I feel the most at home in places where I’m able to form relationships with the land and the life that also call it home, particularly, plants, trees, water, fungi. Through these relationships, I’ve come to recognize that when land and people are separated, people are not the only ones who must mourn a loss, that land and nonhuman elements also grieve - this is evident in today’s climate crisis/collapse.

Nyingv Jae Saechao

Home is an experience to me, a feeling, sometimes a memory. As someone whose reality is significantly shaped by complex trauma, I’ve found that home is wherever I can actually be present without the itch to escape or tune out my immediate surroundings. Some days home feels quiet, uncrowded, a space where I can be with just me, the sky, feel the wind on my face and the ground beneath my feet. Home is also in all the moments, places and people that offer me the safety to be soft, go slow, breathe deep, have fun and allow me to take off all my masks and hang up all the hats I have to wear to survive in this world. As I’ve grown, I’ve learned that there is a difference between belonging and familiarity– that just because places or people feel familiar, that doesn’t mean they’re inherently safe. In every form, home is sacred to me, so I fiercely protect them.