The Truth About Getting An MFA And Being Asian-American

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Far be it from us at Low Lift Ask to discourse-hunt, but it must be said: people are talking about Asians and diaspora literature and creative writing fellowships. I actually think this is a vital and necessary public reckoning. Much like all conversations happening on Substack across disparate quasi-diary blogs with low readerships, it’s being carried out thoughtfully, by good-faith actors and smart, really incisive commentary. I’m just so blown away by all the thoughts everyone’s having. Being who I am, of course, I think I have much to offer to this space.

Last week, I was listening to a podcast, and came across this clip. It stopped me dead in my snowy tracks—the frank truth, the clarifying honesty and rigor with which all of these ideas are said, plainly and out loud. It almost brought me to my knees. Take a listen for yourself:

Wow. What else even needs to be said?

Ritam’s Footnote

Erm, far be it from me to wade into the murky, brackish waters of discourse, but—ow. Just got bit by a mosquito. Oh god, they’re breeding in this still, viscous water. Ow. Ow. They keep biting! Ow!

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