mcdull

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

I like to drive him crazy, and i do that almost every day.

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

I like to drive him crazy, and i do that almost every day.

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

Honestly, because I really decided to wear jeans the last minute, I was going to wear my national clothes.  And I didn’t want to explain because we were already running late. 
 
I did tell him later.  

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

Long story short, came here on a CR1, had an ROC interview and became a citizen last Thursday. Passport in hand on Friday. 
 
Purged all those papers by Saturday. 
 
my journey is over. 
 
Before i I took the oath, I realised that I couldn’t find my 10 year green card. went to an infopass and was told it’s all good. I will be able to sign a sworn statement. Knowing USCIS, I couldn’t take their words at face value and worried all the way till I walked into my oath ceremony. 
 
When I was called to surrender my green cards, I told the officer I couldn’t find my 10 year card, to which he answered :” that’s ok, you don’t need it anymore.  Sign your initials here, NEXT!”
 
well, basically that’s it. No sworn statement, no trouble. Everything went smooth. 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

I like to drive him crazy, and i do that almost every day.

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.
 
 
 
 
 
 

I like to drive him crazy, and i do that almost every day.

"Honey, you sure you don't want to change?" My husband yelled as he was jumping out of the shower.  "You look gorgeous in that cheongsam!"
 
"I am 100% sure!" 
 
My husband was baffled. Why would I wear jeans at a such solemn event? on this very day I became an American?
 
little did he know,  I wore it to honour my aunt, who was killed by the Chinese communists over a pair of blue jeans.
 
My dad escaped the Chinese civil war and arrived in Hong Kong, left behind two other  siblings who remained in communist controlled China. Dad worked few odd jobs so that every time we visited our relatives, we would be able to bring necessities, be flour, rice, clothes, radio or even salt and sugar.
 
I still remember my dad's loud cry when upon returning to China, he learned my aunt had committed suicide, over the very pair of jeans he brought her from Hong Kong.
 
Only when I grew up, I heard the story from my cousin that auntie Mui lost her life to the heydays of cultural revolution, when every single wrong doing could land you in jail and every little mistake earned you a good beating.  Jeans in all the madness became a gesture of contradicting  supreme leader Mao and a symbol of supporting American Imperialism.
 
So her very friend and comrade stripped her and did the unthinkable and unspeakable in public.  My aunt couldn't take the humiliation and took her own life the same afternoon.
 
As years go by, all my families escaped communist China and landed in Hong Kong, Aunt Mui was gone, but she was never forgotten. 
 
And that is why I wore jeans, a indisputable symbol of Americanism at my oath ceremony, and if aunt Mui is above there somewhere watching over me, she knew I did it for her honour.