*Previously a Featured Story on Medium.com

Growing up, I had the unique, interesting, and irreconcilable experience of learning Uyghur (also Uighur) dance from my Beijing Dance Academy-trained Chinese dance teacher. A late immigrant to the states, she did not so much leave China as she came to America. In other words, when she left her mother country, she had no reason to leave behind her allegiance to her country nor disagree with what it had given her. She was, after all, one of the luckier lot to have gotten out of her rural home and into the big city of…


In this inaugural post-graduation blog post, I would like to write on two things: (i) the bizarre but also intimate experience of graduating from Stanford University in the comfort of my own living room, and (ii) my relationship with San Francisco illuminated by this physical circularity of ending right where I started.

To dim an already drab morning, my June 14th graduation day began with the city’s usual fog and an absence of any light (a metaphor, perhaps). Knowing that what would’ve been an elaborate outdoor ceremony in the company of friends, family, and teachers has now been demoted to…

Angelina Hue

Writer based in San Francisco. Stanford ’20.

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