The first time I met an Asian person—Vietnamese, to be exact—it was in 1990, when I transferred to the Classen Fifth Year Center for the last month of the school year. Having grown up in a small town in Texas for most of my then-life, the closest I ever came to that culture was on Saturday’s kung-fu movie double-features that aired on the old UHF stations. It was good afternoon entertainment but made for poor personal relations.
Now, however, many years later, my life has been continually enriched by living around and immersing myself in such a resounding atmosphere as the Asian District in Oklahoma City. It was relieving to see how many of my neighbors and other friends agreed by overflowing Military Park with support for the peoples of this district and this town by coming out for the annual Asian Night Market Festival...