“Catch!” Ten yards away, my friend flings a frisbee in my general direction. I brace myself, eye the projectile, lunge, and miss. I blame it on the rain. It looks like a rainy June night — but today is by no means no ordinary rainy June night. Here on Glover Field, the baseball diamond and its surrounding field has been invaded by a horde of vibrantly-colored tents. Harsh white light from the overarching floodlights haloes the stalls and the wide, grassy...

Every Thursday, with my violin case strapped securely to my back, I descend into the basement of St. Gabriel’s Church. Immediately, I am surrounded by smiling children, half-sized cellos, and the sound of a pianist working through the opening bars of Ave Maria. Songcatchers is as familiar to me as a second home. For three years, I have been volunteering as a violin instructor, teaching my craft to kids unable to afford private lessons. In that church basement, my...

In Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club, Chinese American immigrant families in 1940s San Francisco form a tight-knit club steeped in shared culture. Similarly, my family and our Chinese friends throw potlucks every month. There is no occasion; each feast is a celebration unto itself, a way to commemorate sacrifices and find comfort among kin. Upwards of six families crowd a table overflowing with Chinese dishes: dumplings, baozi, mapo dofu. In these feasts, I embrace my heritage while bringing...