In the course of the readings, only one book truly made sense to me. The readings from Jung Young Lee gave me a better understanding of my lifestyle. Lee claims that "theology is autobiographical, but it is not an autobiography" (Marginality 7). Theology is dependent upon my life story, but not defined by my life story. And so, in my quest for my theology, I must look at my life story.

I am a first generation Vietnamese-American, a hyphenated American. Born three years after my family fled Vietnam, I am the only child in my immediate family who was born on American soil. I grew up walking the line between the Vietnamese culture within my household, and the American culture without. Living in a neighborhood that consisted primarily of Caucasians, my life was marked by misidentification, by others and even by myself.

As a child, I was steeped in the Catholic Traditions. Baptism, Catholic private school, First Communion; I learned early about God. So I clung to him with the eyes-wide-open faith of a child. In this enclosed environment, I never really learned about the concepts of racism or racial pride. I was merely Asian, merely different. At one point, I was even referred to as Chinese. This was the boy's cry of "'Korean! It doesn't matter. You are Chinaman to me'" (Marginality 26). All barbs and insults, I accepted in the Christian way, by turning the other cheek. In effect, I followed the dandelion, folding up my yellow flower in order to blend in with the green (Marginality 13). Being myself merely led to ridicule: being torn from the ground by the owner. And so I lived my life. I denied myself my Asian heritage.

It was not until high school that I began to question my life more. Commuting to a high school far from home provided an extra measure of freedom from the Asian household. No longer was I limited by the mental constrictions my elementary school placed upon me. Bellarmine is a high school run by Jesuits, a more liberal branch of fathers. Also, moving to the more diverse city of San Jose, I was suddenly immersed in other cultures. At Bellarmine, I learned to think critically and evaluate problems. I realized then how limited my understanding of the world truly was. No longer was I merely "Asian." I had become marginalized within the marginalized.

Here, my theology underwent a massive transformation, my understanding of the world having just disintegrated. If theology is faith seeking understanding, then I had lost both faith and understanding, leaving me in search of myself. In his book, Taylor claims of the misrecognized that "their first task ought to be to purge themselves of this imposed and destructive identity" (Multiculturalism 26). Before I could do this, however, I had to find my true identity and understand myself. I pursued this in any number of ways, taking philosophy courses, religion courses, and others. I finally found my identity in three ways: my senior Kairos retreat, my online journal, and my cousin's eskimo diaries.

On my Kairos retreat, I found my social context. Taylor argues against the monological identity. "Human identity is created... dialogically, in response to our relations... with others" (Multiculturalism 7). I found myself shaped by the interaction between my family, my friends, and myself. As I influence my environment, I too, am influenced by it. As a child, I lived my life knowing I was different. As a teenager, I lived my life understanding that everyone is different. This realization brought with it a release from the misidentification that I placed upon myself. No longer forced to fit into an inflexible mold, I felt free of the constrictions that had been placed upon me. On my Kairos retreat, I discovered my social identity through my friends and family.

The second step in my theological development was my online journal. Unable to share my thoughts when confronted with actual people, I found that writing my thoughts down in monologue form allowed me to express myself more truly. These thoughts I post on my webpage for all to see. Here, I explore the depths of my thought processes, my soul, and my personality. In my writings, I piece together my personal identity, one thought at a time. Through personal reflection and dialogue with others, I see myself in new light, and continually reevaluate myself in these new terms.

The third step towards my theological development is my cousin's eskimo diaries. She and I grew up together and went to the same schools, from preschool until eighth grade. We were very similar while we were growing up, and we still seem to understand each other's situations. Her experiences with racism and identity at Berkeley, under the guise of nationalism and cultural pride, caused her to question her own identity in context to her heritage. Greatly influenced by her writings and experiences, I have become more aware of my cultural context. I stand in-between two cultures. "The marginal person has to live in these two worlds, which are not only different but often antagonistic to each other. From these two worlds, I chose membership in the dominant society, but it rejects me because of my root in the other world" (Marginality 43). I am neither Vietnamese nor American; rather, I am a mixture of the two. Unable to stand fully within either society, I stand with one foot in each. If I returned to Vietnam, I would be criticized and rejected for my American ways. Unable to even communicate correctly in the Vietnamese language, I would be sorely out of place. Yet in American society, I am labeled for my assimilation. I am "white-washed." Neither true American nor true Vietnamese. I am of the hyphenated culture. And I realize, that this is my true identity. I am not of either culture. I am myself, born of both cultures, yet independent. I make my own culture and my own context. I became In-Beyond. "I am more than an Asian because I am an American, and I am more than an American because I am an Asian" (Marginality 58).

Faith seeking understanding. I, however, had worked backwards. I found my understanding of the world. I now needed to seek my faith. All my life, I believed in God. I believed that he stood by my side throughout my life. I was also taught to rely on myself. My faith in God slowly dwindled, replaced by my faith in myself. It was my faith in myself that needed reconciling with my understanding of the world. My understanding of the world came from my personal views. If the Catholic perceptions of God that I grew up with were true, then their God is not as personal as the faith I held in myself. I believe that my conception of God is so interwoven into my personal self, that the two are indistinguishable. "This is why one cannot do theology for another" (Marginality 7). The God I believe in is contextual.

I am not religious. I do not attend church. I do, however, have a spiritual side. I believe in a higher order of things. Whether I term this order God or merely spirituality, I care not, but I believe that deep inside of me there is a kernel of something that can make us better people. This is my faith.