When the Great Recession hit in 2008, millions were downgraded to part-time, furloughed or simply laid off. But if there’s one thing the recession has proven, it’s that sometimes a downturn in life can be a blessing in disguise.

ISSUE: Fall 2011

DEPT: Features

STORY: Shirley Lau

It’s impossible to look in any direction without seeing someone playing the Words with Friends app on their iPhone or messaging a friend on their Blackberry. Despite government-issued checks being the sole source of income for many, it’s not hard to find restaurants with people waiting in a line that goes out the door, eager to spend their scavenged cash on a nice meal. It may look like the economy is getting better, but looks can be awfully deceiving.

Being unemployed or making a career change during what is considered by economists to be the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression of the 1930s, is anything but an anomaly. As of this past summer, the unemployment
rate was nearly 10 percent, about 31 million people. And with constant fears of a possible double-dip recession, it doesn’t look like things are going to get better any time soon.

So what is one to do when she’s living off unemployment and sending hundreds of résumés into a black hole? Some may choose to make a career out of being couch potatoes, while others are just trying to stay afloat, holding out for the day when they can make a career out of what they’re most passionate about. And then there are those fresh (and once fearful) faces who’ve changed their lives for the better — and they have the recession to thank for it.

Back to the Books

{ Enid Portuguez, 30, Filipina American }
Previous job: Los Angeles Times staff writer
Current job: Graduate student

She’s in graduate school and accumulating debt like there’s no tomorrow. She spent all summer in Europe doing an unpaid internship. At the age of 30 and after nine years of having real jobs, this isn’t the life Enid Portuguez had in mind.

“I kind of realized it was time for something new,” says Portuguez about her choice to go back to school. “I really wanted to do something that was practical and was different from what I was doing before.”

Despite the recent debate over whether college, especially graduate school, is really worth it, Portuguez decided to not only pursue her master’s degree, but also change careers. Her bachelor’s degree was in criminology, her last job was in journalism, and now she’s getting her master’s in conflict resolution.

After falling victim to the second round of about five mass layoffs at the Los Angeles Times, Portuguez decided to return to her old stomping grounds of New York — just a week after the stock market crashed. “That was kind of a downer, to say the least,” she says. She toiled away working at a restaurant, while also freelancing and continuing to blog for the Los Angeles Times for extra income.

“Don’t count anything out,” says Portuguez. “Don’t think about how old you are; don’t think about how ridiculous it might sound. Don’t think about how outlandish or impossible it may seem. Now is the time to try what will make you happy.”

As Asian American women in today’s society, it is important to remember where we came from, our roots, and give ourselves the opportunity to connect with others sharing our stories to relate our differences and similarities.

In light of 13 Minutes’ recent release of the new collection of stories, “Pho For Life: A Melting Pot of Thoughts,” I chatted with “Pho For Life” contributor, Kelly Banh about her story, experiences, and inspirational view of the road of life.
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In a letter to Jean-Baptiste Leroy, Ben Franklin wrote, “In this world nothing can be said to be certain except death and taxes.”

I would add one more certainty: writing is hard.

I am reminded of this truism on a regular basis, usually when I’m staring at my blank computer screen and muttering something as eloquent as, “Writing is hard.” To help ease the self-induced pain of writing, I try to find the best possible place to write. This varies between my house, the public library and a nearby coffee shop, depending on my mood and what I hope to accomplish. When I’m productive at home it is pure joy. There’s a kitchen full of food and drink, a dog who shows her affection regardless of the quality of my work, and when I have to go to the bathroom, I don’t have to ask anyone to watch my belongings.

I would like to think I’m a trusting person, however, when it comes to my laptop, I do nothing but worry that someone is going to swipe it. This fear has been exacerbated by the new signs posted at the Burbank library warning patrons to not leave their belongings unattended. My concern is less about my computer and more about the embarrassment I would feel if someone actually stole it. I realize my priorities might be out of whack, what with my embarrassment being free whereas a new laptop is not.

“So what you’re saying is you left your laptop on the table and walked away?”

“Uh, yes?”

This would be similar to the stupidity I felt when, as a 17-year-old, I left my purse in the car. It was in plain view, so no surprise when I returned only to find that it had been stolen. Joke’s on them, I had $6 cash. This was of little consolation to my parents considering it was their car that had a smashed passenger window.

So last week, in order to avoid having to ask people to watch my belongings while at the library, I simply drank fewer fluids so as to avoid going to the bathroom. It goes without saying this was a terrible idea because this week I ended up with a urinary tract infection.

Besides the requisite doctor’s appointment, I have one other beef with working in the library. Despite my general love and affection for the public library system, there is nothing more frustrating while in the midst of writer’s block than being surrounded by the work of published authors. It’s as if I’m being mocked. These people did it. What’s your problem, Goss?

Naturally, I won’t be back to the library anytime soon. At least not until I have a head full of ideas and have finished my antibiotics. So the lesson of the day is this: Death and taxes are unavoidable. Urinary tract infections should be. And writing is hard. Anyone who says differently is lying.

We were excited for former Audrey contributor Shannon Goss when she landed a (dream) gig writing for ER, but sad to see her leave for greener (and well-paid) pastures. Now that ER has ended, she’s back to sharing her writing skills with us, this time with a regular column looking into her life as a writer, a hapa Asian American, and all-around modern woman.

I was asked to kick off my bi-weekly columns with an introductory piece. For anyone who has visited my website knows, I’m not big on the “About Me” page.

So what follows is an essay, which is my veiled attempt to get you – the reader – to like me, read me and clamor for more.

One of my high school classmates was convinced that I, with my non-white skin, was not an American. He was equally convinced that my fair-skinned best friend was. He was wrong.

My nationality? American.

My best friend? A green card-holding Canadian.

My ethnicity, which he confused with my nationality, is half Japanese; the other half equal parts Irish, Scottish, English and Welsh. In Hawaii, where I was born, I am known as a hapa, that is, a “half.”

Despite growing up in small town Oregon (read: not a Japanese restaurant in sight), I identify more with my Japanese side than my British Isles side, thus writing for Audrey magazine and not, say, Irish Lass Monthly.

My annoyance over the misuse of “ethnicity” and “nationality” probably has to do with the fact that I was raised by parents who were teachers. In our house, words and how you used them mattered. This supports the life assumption that we can blame pretty much anything on our parents.

Fear of abandonment? Thanks, Mom and Dad. Although in my case a little unwarranted considering I’m basing this entirely on the time I thought my parents boarded a cable car without me. Spoiler alert: They didn’t, something I realized after successfully chasing down the trolley with no money to pay my fare, what
with me being 8-years-old and all.

Inability to wake up early? Totally my parents’ fault, despite my mom’s best efforts to wake me from my teenage slumber by threatening to spray me with a water bottle and/or sing Chinese opera (she is neither Chinese nor an opera singer).

Comical confusion between rights and lefts? I want to blame this on my parents because I don’t know how else to explain my consistent ability to say, “turn left” when I mean, “turn right.” My boyfriend has accepted this as one of my adorable (my word) foibles despite the fact that when I make this error he’s generally at
the wheel of a moving automobile.

In my parents’ defense, however, I also take responsibility for my hang-up about words because I am a writer. Most of the time word choice is a matter of taste. Was she agitated or incensed? Overjoyed or jubilant? This changed while on the writing staff of the show ER where one wrong word could be the difference between life and death (in a fake TV show way).

So yes, words and how they are used matter to me. But hopefully not in a pretentious, you want to punch me in the face way. More of a I’m-laughing-with-you-because-you-misused-the-word-“literally” way.

– Shannon Goss

Have a secret stash of stories hidden away in your sock drawer? Tired of seeing all your writer friends find fame and fortune while you toil away as a barista? If you are, you could probably use some cold hard cash, like say, $1,000 bucks in addition to the recognition you so rightly deserve. Here’s the break you’ve been waiting for:

Submission deadline is March 31.

Hyphen magazine and Asian American Writers’ Workshop is putting out the call for the next best Asian American writer. This is no small writing contest — Houghton Mifflin published past winner Preeta Samarasan’s book Evening Is the Whole Day, which was long-listed for the prestigious Orange Prize (and, more importantly, was featured with an excerpt in Audrey, thank you very much). And this year’s judges include no less than Whiting award winner Alexander Chee, author of Edinburgh (Picador), and Jaed Coffin, author of A Chant to Soothe Wild Elephants (De Capo Press). The winner not only gets one thousand ducats, she (or he) also gets her (or his — hint hint) story published in the pages of Hyphen itself.

But you don’t have a whole lotta time — the deadline for submissions is March 31. Go here for submission guidelines and info. And get writing!