Tag: Labor

2023 in Review: Hard Launched

Posted on by Elise

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”

― Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

On book release day at CNN in New York, reacting live to host Richard Quest in a Korean jimjilbang

It was the year of Taylormania, the year of ongoing wars and displacement, the hottest year on record (and climbing), the year of Ozempic, the year artificial intelligence advances demonstrated astonishing capabilities and triggered serious concerns. Life comes at you fast. Faster than we can humanly process, I think. The AI field is apparently advancing three times faster than Moore’s Law (in other words, doubling capabilities and speed every six months). In the US, the year started with 17 excruciating ballots to elect Kevin McCarthy as Speaker of the House and it’s ending with him not even serving in the House anymore.

The podcasting industry (ahem, my industry) got clobbered. Companies folded. Spotify laid off hundreds and killed its in-house podcast units, and my longtime employers in public radio laid off swaths of talent. The film industry effectively went on hiatus this summer as both the unions for screenwriters and actors went on strike, which, living in Los Angeles, I saw in my backyard. I even joined in the picketing with my screenwriter partner, until the stalemate with the studios finally, finally came to an end.

My year was about giving my heart and soul to launching and touring my first book. Energy and love came back to me in surprising, rewarding, heartfelt ways. Superstars moderated book talks with me in cities across the country and most recently, in Hong Kong. People like my tax accountant, high school prom date, and my former and current bosses all showed up. I had the great honor of being invited on national broadcasts and podcasts and featured in magazines. I met and corresponded with thousands of readers directly, who shared similar desires to resist factory-issued beauty culture and stand up for bodily autonomy and liberation. Friends and readers, I cannot say thank you enough.

Photo credit: Sarah Makki for LAist

Favorite TED Talks: Research-backed ways to manage pain. Dr. Becky, on repair.

Best gift: Rob wrote me a song about all my paradoxes and performed it with his band at my birthday party

Favorite Film: Past Lives

Firsts: Picket line. Ketamine treatment. Book release. Book tour. Writing a film treatment. Mahjong.

Disappointments: Facebook page got hacked and they couldn’t restore years of photos and videos. Not enough newborn meetups! Have my friends all stopped having little babies?! My opinion piece for the New York Times got spiked at the last minute. I missed my BFF Sudeep’s wedding party in DC because of schedule conflicts.

New cities: Yosemite National Park, though I suppose it’s not a city. Ensenada in Baja California, famous for its blowhole. Isa observed this natural phenomenon sandwiched by Mennonites, which she didn’t even notice because she was so mesmerized by the blowhole.

Isa in Ensenada

Notable New Friend: Janet Yang, who is a force in the entertainment industry, the current head of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences, and walks the walk when it comes to Asian representation and excellence. She’s opened the doors to a network of badass Asian women that I admire and feel fortified and nourished by.

With Janet at one of her mahjong parties

Fave Tennis Player: Daniil Medvedev — he’s blunt, he’s precise, he is genuine. He’s had an incredible year. He has gawky fluidity and a smothering wingspan. All I’ve ever wanted is gawky fluidity. All I have ever been is gawky.

Favorite podcast episode: Radiolab’s episode, The Seagulls, on how same sex behavior is far more common in the animal kingdom than scientists thought. It’s evolutionarily adaptive. Here’s a WaPo story on the same idea.

Purchases and practices that fed me:

  • Iced Honey Lavender Latte from Love Coffee Bar, in LA’s Mar Vista neighborhood. So creamy and so delicious. It better be, because it’s $7.50, not counting the tip.
  • Making Ram-Don, the instant noodle+steak combo popularized in a crucial scene in Parasite. Maangchi teaches it best.
  • Xirena white button down, and I liked it so much I got the same shirt in black

In no particular order, this year I…

Was in the live audience of The Masked Singer, a longtime bucket list item
Released my first book
Toured the book in 14 cities
Sold the film rights to said book(!)
Started a documentary project related to the book
Went to the pop culture event of the year: The Eras Tour
Learned how to play mahjong (poorly)
Dislocated my shoulder (again)
Appeared on 38 podcasts (including three of them I host)
Met two K-pop groups at KCON at the Staples center
Trained 24 times with my personal trainer neighbor two houses down
Got my neck and back cracked three times
Tried ketamine at a sub-anesthetic dose
Threw three big parties, including Deck the Balls, my ball-themed potluck and attended lots of book parties for Flawless and all the food was delicious
Met a member of Mac Sabbath, the McDonald’s+Black Sabbath tribute band
Saw a lot of artists perform live: Depeche Mode, Taylor Swift, Gracie Abrams, HAIM, Rain, XG, ATEEZ
Hosted a parade of friends at my house: Matt Thompson. And Bryan Tradup. And Pamela. And Lawrence and his family. And our staffer Mary. And my unstoppable actor friend Mari.
Returned to Asia for the first time in two years
Went to Washington DC five times
Read 28 books, reviewed a few of them
Attended two weddings: New York (Pamela and Jeff), DC (amy and Alli)
Flew 51,493 miles to 18 cities, five countries and spent 71 days away from home
Reunited with my brother in Hong Kong and visited my parents in Taipei

PREVIOUS YEARS IN REVIEW

2022|2021|2020 |2019 | 2018 | 2017 |  2016 | 2015 | 2014 | 2013 | 2012 | 2011 | 2010|2009 | 2008 | 2007 | 2006 | 2005 | 2004

2020 Year in Review: Brave New World

Posted on by Elise

“It felt vaguely like being forced to live in a building splintered by a wrecking ball before the rebuilding had begun. Quarantine didn’t just take things away; it revealed — with a harsh, unrelenting clarity — what had already been lost.”

—Leslie Jamison

Into the unknown. L to R: Eva, Luna, me, Isa

This year forced us to our knees. Like so many others, I found myself disoriented and trapped inside, falling to my emotional nadir. We lost Kobe Bryant. John Lewis. Ruth Bader Ginsburg. And some 300,000 Americans to the plague. We yearned for the days when the rule of law was a given. America as we know it came apart at the seams. Even our best efforts to bridge differences won’t work by themselves, they require that the digital platforms shattering reality in the name of “consumer choice” will have to dramatically change or be regulated into doing so.

I experienced COVID year primarily as a loss of innocence — the year I finally, finally had to grow up. At one point this summer, we were under stay-at-home orders (for rioting) in the midst of stay-at-home orders (for coronavirus). Did we ever think we’d miss each other like this, that we’d yearn for the joy of company and coincidence, serendipity and surprise, the magic of sharing poorly ventilated spaces with strangers? Grief, loss and identity shift defined 2020, both in the universal sense, and in a personal one.

Despite a year of radical change, I write this post feeling privileged and contented. The threat of the virus took away so much — loved ones, freedom, hugs, travel, an entire way of life I took for granted. But it gave, too. A return to nature. A stillness in which, egad, we could be alone with our thoughts. Time for introspection! And for me, a real deepening of my relationships. Because there were no longer the “friends” you just run into at a drop-off, or at conferences, you had to be intentional about how you spent your time and who you reached out to check-in on. I was more deliberate with my friendships than ever, and I felt that intention among the loved ones who supported me. 

I’m also fortunate to be surrounded (more than ever, since they aren’t in school) by my loud, vibrant, healthy kids who remind us how adaptable humanity is at its essence. To borrow from Des’ree’s anthem from my millennial coming-of-age, we gotta be a little bit badder, a little bit bolder, a little bit wiser, harder, tougher.

Culture That Got Me Through 2020: Bong Joon Ho (just his entire energy), PEN15, Run, I May Destroy You, Younger, BTS’ “Dynamite,” Palm Springs, Dave Grohl’s epic drum battle with a 10 year old he met on social media, the series ending of Bojack Horseman, this TikTok about Mitch McConnell 

Moments of Unadulterated Joy: This gas station in LA, the day the networks finally called the election for Joe Biden. These kids, experiencing the drum solo in “In the Air Tonight”

MVP New Friends: Jenn and Drew, who are the parents of my daughter Eva’s good friend Leif. They were rocks as we made Sunday pool time a regular thing to get through this hell year. Sarah Svoboda, who is my producer at VICE, became one of my closest girlfriends overnight. Rob, with whom I’d split giant breakfast burritos after five mile runs. I am now simultaneously fatter and in better cardiovascular shape.

Big Ideas: The fallacy of emphasizing individual responsibility over systemic fixes. We’re in a care crisis that connects to everything else in our society — the economy, gender, education, politics. The nuclear family ideal is not workable on its own. Neoliberalism failed.

MVP Snack: Brown sugar boba popsicles saved my 2020. I became an accidental boba pop influencer! My only other influencing was for the Saved by the Bell pop-up in West Hollywood, which was a special treat.

Firsts: Book deal. Hosting an hour-long nationwide radio special. Global pandemic. Shelter in place order. Wearing a mask every day. Not leaving the country all year. TV work for VICE. Homeschooling my children. Social distancing. Going a year without being with my parents.

The Energy To Bring To All Things: It’s what I call the Michaela Coel energy, after reading this landmark profile of the singular artist who brought us Chewing Gum and I May Destroy You. We say this, from here on out: ‘This is what I need. Are you good enough to give it to me?’ Not ‘Am I good enough to deserve the kind of treatment that I want?’ 

Fave selfie. Celebrating Luna’s 3rd birthday, at home.

Regrets: Never did learn how to play the ukulele. Barely made progress on my book, which was supposed to be mostly done by now, in a parallel universe. My relationships felt very COVID-blocked, to different degrees.

My Gamechanger: Jungian depth psychology with a dream analyst. This is the most woo-woo I’ve ever sounded, I realize. But after dipping in and out of traditional, more conventional cognitive behavioral therapy for most my adult life, Friend Jenn told me about her dream analyst and I started seeing him over Zoom and I have never had a clearer and deeper understanding of my inner life. I feel more whole and more grounded in an organizing philosophy for meaning than, well, ever. I credit it with keeping me contented through the crucible that was 2020.

One of the year’s proudest achievements, squatting for around 15 minutes straight to conduct an interview with a man experiencing homelessness.

Also this year, in no particular order, and an admittedly incomplete list:

Wrote letters to more than 50 strangers, got the most moving responses
Got to know all the parks around here
Ran 301 miles
Held a squat for 15 minutes while conducting an interview
Watched 252 TED talks
Gained five to eight lbs, depending on the day
Never once got to hug my mom or dad 
Signed my first book deal
Went to so many Zoom meetings, Zoom parties, Zoom milestones and Zoom conferences that I never tracked it
Helped link doctors so they could share COVID lessons in its earliest days
Started hosting TED Talks Daily
Didn’t go to TED (the conference, because the plague canceled it)
Started working as a freelance correspondent for VICE News Tonight
Signed with my broadcast agent in January, who negotiated a lucrative deal by December
Co-created and hosted Labor, an indie podcast about why motherhood’s messed up  
Meditated more than ever before
Drew my first zine
Got a new cat, Abe
Did not get COVID19, at least not yet
Volunteered every Tuesday in the summer, delivering meals to neighbors in need
Got to know the homeless community in Venice
Went drinking with my high school economics teacher, Mr. Coates, 20 years after being his student. He re-explained the Laffer Curve to me at a punk bar in Chicago!
Reconnected with Matt Weiner
Read 39 books, a far cry from the 52 books of previous years
Moved into a new town home
Got a sandwich named after me — The Elise Hu, which is, shockingly, vegetarian
Flew 24,469 miles to 10 cities, never once left the country and spent only 29 days away from home — all of it, before March 13.

Previous Years in Review

2019 | 2018 | 2017 |  2016 | 2015 | 2014 | 2013 | 2012 | 2011 | 2010|2009 | 2008 | 2007 | 2006 | 2005 | 2004

The Big Idea

Posted on by Elise

If there is one big idea I have really spent the year interrogating and emphasizing through my work this year, whether it’s my book (which is about capitalist-driven definitions of beauty that drive an endless cycle and competition toward unachievable standards), or through my newish social science and parenting podcast, Labor, it’s about the fallacy of emphasizing personal responsibility over systemic fixes.

Whether we’re talking about climate, health and caregiving policies, how we treat poor people or reckon with race, it all boils down to this: The US consistently asks individuals to take both the blame for systemic problems and the responsibility for solving them. This strain is synonymous with neoliberalism, which dominates the globe’s economic systems, and especially so in American society and culture.

The toxicity of this idea is made tragically clear in our largely preventable COVID hellscape this year. Ed Yong writes:

“Pushing for universal health care is harder than shaming an unmasked stranger. Fixing systemic problems is more difficult than spewing moralism, and Americans gravitated toward the latter. News outlets illustrated pandemic articles with (often distorted) photos of beaches, even though open-air spaces offer low-risk ways for people to enjoy themselves. Marcus attributes this tendency to America’s puritanical roots, which conflate pleasure with irresponsibility, and which prize shame over support. “The shaming gets codified into bad policy,” she says.”

I also serendipitously got to reinforce this idea in a TED Talk I introduced this summer, from the journalist George Monbiot.

“Our good nature has been thwarted by several forces, but I think the most powerful of them is the dominant political narrative of our times, which tells us that we should live in extreme individualism and competition with each other. It pushes us to fight each other, to fear and mistrust each other. It atomizes society. It weakens the social bonds that make our lives worth living. And into that vacuum grow these violent, intolerant forces. We are a society of altruists, but we are governed by psychopaths.”

Worth a watch.