Host: Chloe Salmon
[violin music]
Moderator: [00:00:01] Truth or dare? How about both? This fall, The Moth is challenging what it means to be daring. We're not just talking about jumping out of airplanes or quitting your job. We're talking about the quiet courage to be vulnerable, the bold decisions to reveal the secret that changed everything.
This fall, The Moth Mainstage season brings our most powerful stories to live audiences in 16 cities across the globe. Every one of those evenings will explore the singular theme of daring. But the stories and their tellers will never be the same. So, here's our dare to you. Experience The Moth Mainstage live. Find a city near you at themoth.org/daring. Come on, we dare you.
Chloe: [00:00:57] Welcome to The Moth. I'm Chloe Salmon. And on this episode, in honor of Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, we'll be sharing three stories from AAPI storytellers, who'll take us everywhere from a Korean spa to a crisis hotline.
First up, we've got Helen Langley Wyss, who told this story at a StorySLAM in Asheville, North Carolina, where the theme of the night was Home. Here's Helen, live at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Helen: [00:01:28] I should have known something was up when my mom opted out. I was on my first adult trip to Korea, my mother's homeland, and a friend had suggested that I had to go experience jjimjilbang. I said, "What is jjimjilbang?" "It is a Korean spa." I said, "That sounds awesome." And my mom said, "Count me out." All right. Well, I get to jjimjilbang, and the first thing they do is separate the men from the women. There's a big sign over the women's door that says, "No entry to the male." [audience laughter] I should have known something was up then.
The second thing they do at jjimjilbang is remove all clothing. All clothing. This was unlike any spa I had ever been to. No robe, no slippers, nothing. Well, they did give me a towel. It was the size of a kitchen hand towel. [audience chuckle] I did some quick calculations and figured out that I was not going to be able to cover anything with it. So, I just tossed it over my shoulder nonchalantly. [audience laughter] Like, "I do this all the time." The truth is, I did not do this all the time. For as long as I can remember, I have never felt comfortable at home in my body.
As a kid, the other kids would tease me about being chubby. "Helen Bellen, Watermelon." I know. Really creative, huh? I remember looking at my mother's Cosmopolitan magazines and thinking, that's what a female body is supposed to look like. So, later, all that insecurity was reinforced by boyfriends. [clears throat] I had a really toxic boyfriend in college, who would actually pinch my love handles and say, "I thought you were going to lose that." [audience aww] I know. The worst part about it was I would apologize to him and say, "I promise I'll try harder."
I had a really long-term partner who used to drape a towel over my midsection, so that he wouldn't have to look at certain parts of me while he was enjoying other parts. So, I know it's awful. [chuckles] I'm so glad I'm grown up now. Needless to say, by the time I made it to Korean spa in my 40s, I was not feeling particularly body confident. But I did my best. I was faking the swagger with a towel over my shoulder. After steaming and jacuzziing with total strangers totally naked, it was suggested to me that I try a scrub down as part of my jjimjilbang experience.
So, the scrub down takes place behind a wall in the shower room. They have these massage tables set up. And behind each massage table is a middle-aged Korean woman in a black lace bra and panties. [audience laughter] I don't know why they got to wear underwear. But they were also wearing very stern expressions, [audience laughter] so I did not ask questions. I just climbed up on the table. They were also wearing on their hands these things that look like oven mitts, but with a scrubby sponge kind of surface, like the hard side of a two-sided sponge that you use to get food bits off, you know, really dried on for days. [audience chuckle]
So, I just did the best I could. I tried to listen to the instructions in Korean and tried to maneuver the way they wanted me to, so that they could scrub places that had never been scrubbed before. And then, every once in a while, without warning, the scrubber lady would take a bucket of warm water and just throw it on me. Just slough off all the dead skin. I know it sounds traumatic. [audience chuckle] But as the day went on, I was actually having fun. I was enjoying myself. I was actually becoming a little more comfortable in my body [chuckles] in a state of undress. I noticed that the other women did not look like the women in Cosmopolitan magazine. They were beautiful.
By the end of the day, I was feeling happy and a little more free. All of that was 12 years ago. These days, I am newly married to a wonderful man who values me, every inch of me. [audience cheers]
And more importantly, I am learning to value myself. Even though I still get dressed in a closet and I still wear big baggy clothes, I do believe that jjimjilbang, Korean spa day, did bring me one step closer to being at home in my skin. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Chloe: [00:07:48] That was Helen Langley Wyss. Helen grew up straddling the cultures of her Korean mother and American father. Her lifelong journey with body confidence continues through yoga and dance. She teaches Zumba classes near Asheville. Helen's been back to Korea twice and never skips jjimjilbang. I feel for Helen.
When I was an intern at a nonprofit in New York during my last summer of college, the other two interns and I decided to go to a Korean spa one weekend. We were also unaware of the no clothes policy. Nothing like surprise nakedness with your kind-of colleagues. Though once I got over the awkwardness and made sure I was laser-focused on their faces at all times, it was a fun day.
If you'd like to see a photo of Helen and her family enjoying the part of the spa where they were allowed to wear pajamas, we'll have a photo of that on our website, themoth.org/extras.
Up next, someone finds their voice, literally. Hari Sanghvi told this story at a Seattle GrandSLAM, where the theme of the night was Occasional Magic. Just as a note, this story mentions the existence of suicide. Here's Hari, live at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Hari: [00:09:01] I'm 19 years old, and calling into a sports radio show to talk to one of my football heroes on my hometown, Buffalo Bills. I'm taping the call, because I am so excited to be on the radio and I want all my friends to hear. After the conversation, the player says to me, "Thanks for calling into the program, ma’am." [audience laughter] Horrified, I say, "I'm not a ma’am." He corrects himself by saying, "Oh, sorry, man." [audience chuckle] Rather than that deep husky voice that makes your knees buckle, I was blessed with this high-pitched, nasally voice, like I overdosed on nitrous oxide. [audience laughter] I have always detested my voice. A few years ago, I spent a ton of money on dental work, which actually made my voice deep by reducing the gaps between my teeth. But until age 40, I basically sounded like one of those talking dolls.
I tried online dating, which was great, because you can't hear voice through typing and it would start out great until that first phone call. I remember going back and forth email for days with this wonderful woman. And in the first phone call she says, "Well, you sound like a kid!" "No, no I'm not." [audience laughter] She says, "Okay. Well, do you even like women? You sound gay." "Nope, I'm not gay. I'm not a small child and I'm not a gay small child either." [audience laughter]
When I graduated from college with a psychology degree, I was thrilled to get my very first job at a crisis center. The only problem was that some of the work involved taking phone calls on a hotline. My calls would go something like this, "Hi, you've reached the crisis line. This is Hari." "Hari, that's a guy's name?" The callers would think that I was lying to them about my gender. My supervisor took me aside and said that I was confusing the callers. I felt like I'm the one in crisis. I mean, where is the crisis hotline that a straight guy with a problem with a high voice can call? [audience chuckle]
I thought maybe I should switch careers, something that doesn't have to do with voice, like mathematics or an accountant or how about a mime. That's in high demand? [audience laughter] But one thing I was absolutely sure of, there was absolutely nothing redeeming about this voice.
One day, I'm on the crisis line and I receive a really serious call from a 15-year-old girl named Kelly who is despondent and has a bottle of pills next to her. My supervisor is listening intently, ready to possibly trace the call and send an ambulance if she needs help. Kelly goes on to tell me that she's come out as gay and her family doesn't understand. So, I'm doing everything that I'm trained to do. I'm listening so sympathetically, I'm asking about her feelings, but I become speechless when she asks me, "Hari, you're gay too, right?"
Here we go again. The situation gets brought around to my issue. I don't know what to say. If I tell her I'm gay, that's absolutely the best thing for the call and keeping the connection going, but I'd be lying. If I say I'm not gay, then what if she feels alienated and thinks that I don't understand. So, I decide to tell her the truth. "Kelly, I'm not gay. But I do understand what it's like to feel judged for something you feel you can't change. And I have felt unaccepted and unloved my life, but because of my voice."
We end up having this very deep 45-minute conversation. She's the very first person to tell me she actually likes my voice, because she felt that it was very caring and we both felt good. It really struck me that this thing that I have been so ashamed of, I've hid my voice for my entire life, but the one time I unapologetically revealed it, it might have helped save someone's life. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Chloe: [00:13:58] Hari Sanghvi is from California and loves all kinds of animals, especially cats. He participated in The Moth shows a few years ago and remembers the warm friendships, kind producers and encouraging atmosphere.
After the break, we'll hear about an important memory. Be back in a moment.
Welcome back. Our final story is a favorite from the archive from Wendy Suzuki. She told this at a New York City Mainstage. Here's Wendy, live at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Wendy: [00:14:31] Good evening, everybody. So excited to be here.
Long before I ever wanted to be a neuroscientist, I wanted to be a Broadway star. [audience chuckle] I thought the people that could sing and dance and act all at the same time were the most talented people in the world. But you have to remember that I came from a very serious Japanese-American family. My grandfather came from Japan in 1910, and he started the largest Japanese language school in all of the West Coast. So, our family was serious about education.
We were very pleasant, very polite, but never overly affectionate. So, you can think of us like a Japanese-American version of Downton Abbey, [audience chuckle] without the accent, the servants or the real estate. That was us. [audience laughter] So, despite those early Broadway dreams, I quickly and easily fell into a life of total science geekdom. After a while, I decided to follow those science geekdom dreams to UC Berkeley, my family’s alma mater. And so, mom and dad packed me up in the car and drove me to UC Berkeley, and again, Downton Abbey. We didn’t hug, we just waved goodbye, “Bye, mom and dad.” [audience chuckle]
Soon after I arrived at UC Berkeley, I found the perfect outlet for my science geekiness. And that was a class that I took at UC Berkeley called The Brain and Its Potential, taught by Marian Diamond. I’ll never forget that very first day of class. She looked like a 1950s Hollywood movie star. She had blonde, bouffant hair. She was wearing a beautiful skirt and blouse with a crisp white lab coat covering it. And not only that, she had a hat box with her in front of that classroom.
And what she did, she slowly opened that lid, and very carefully she pulled out a real human brain. [audience chuckle] I had never seen one before in my life. She told us that what she was holding in her hands was the most complex structure known to mankind. This is the structure that defined our personalities and allows us to go from laughing to crying in one minute or one second. Not only that, she told us one of the most amazing things about the brain, is that it could change in response to the environment, that is, the environment could change the brain’s anatomy, physiology and function. That was called brain plasticity. And when she said that, that’s the moment I realized that I wanted to be a neuroscientist.
Now, during this time in college, I was your typical, “I don’t need your help, mom and dad. I can do everything on my own.” And despite the fact that I only lived an hour away, I only went home at Christmas and we only called each other. I only called them at most once every three months. I was busy. I was busy learning how to be a neuroscientist. There’s a lot to learn.
One form of brain plasticity that I became fascinated with was memory. How did the brain allow us to take a sensory perception and let us remember that for 20, 30, 40 years, a whole lifetime? I studied the anatomy of the brain areas important for memory. I studied the physiology of the patterns of neural activity. I wanted to understand the neural code underlying memory function. I became an expert in long-term memory, and fascinated with all those mechanistic details.
But then, one day, I was sitting at my breakfast table. I know it was a Wednesday morning because I was reading the Wednesday food section of the New York Times, which is my very favorite section. I was excited to see an article about Thomas Keller. He's the famous chef that owns Per Se and The French Laundry. I was really looking forward to an article about special butter or unusual speckled eggs that he uses in his dishes. But I was really surprised to find a very touching article about his relationship with his father, that happened late in life and they got very close. And in the end, the father died of a tragic car accident. I was almost in tears at this point.
But then, they described a quote that Thomas Keller gave and which he said, "At the end of the day, all we really have is our memories." I realized at that moment that I'd spent so much time focusing on the mechanisms, and the mechanics and the anatomy of memory that I hadn't really given a lot of thought to how deep and emotional memories were in our lives. Well, sometime later, I got a call from my mother. She told me that my dad wasn't feeling well. And not only that when he was driving around, he couldn't remember how to get to the 7-Eleven, where he had been buying his morning coffee for the last 30 years. That was very scary.
And so, the first thing I did is I called my colleagues at Stanford University and got him the best neurologist that I could find. But during all of this process, I couldn't help but feel so guilty. I was an expert on long-term memory. I knew everything about the anatomy and physiology, but I couldn't do one thing to cure my father's memory problems.
Well, during this time, my relationship with my parents had gotten closer. I would call them religiously every Sunday. I would first talk to my mom and then I'd talk to my dad. But I knew after this happened that I wanted to shake things up, I wanted to change the culture of my family. We knew. My brother and I always knew that my parents loved us, despite the fact that we never said those three words to each other as adults, I love you. Remember, this is Downton Abbey, not Brady Bunch. [audience chuckle]
And so, I realized that I wanted to start saying these words, I love you, to my parents. But it was a little bit weird. We'd never said it before, so I couldn't just suddenly start saying it. I realized that one of our Sunday calls, I would actually have to ask them, "Would it be okay if we started saying this?" which is very, very awkward. I'm an adult. [audience laughter] I have to ask my parents’ permission to say I love you? But that’s what I had to do.
I was feeling very uncomfortable about this. I realized I was feeling more than uncomfortable. I was feeling scared, because I was worried that they would say, "No, I'm not comfortable saying that. I really don't want to say that." And that would make me feel so bad. But I knew the only way to find out what they would say is to ask them. So, I gathered up all my courage and I called mom on Sunday night. And my mantra was, "Keep it light." [audience chuckle] So, "Talk to mom and dad. How you doing? Here's my week. How was your week?"
Sometime during the conversation, I said, "Hey, mom, you know we never say I love you. What do you think about the idea of starting to say that when we talk to each other? [audience laughter] What do you think?" And she paused. My stomach went from down here all the way up to my throat. She paused, and then she said, "I think that's a great idea." And I went, "Oh, thank God." Okay.
So, we finished up our conversation, but then the tension started rising again. Because it's one thing to agree to say I love you, [audience laughter] and it's another thing to actually say I love you. So, we both knew were getting to that part of the conversation [audience laughter] where we had to say it to each other. We were circling each other, not sure what to do. It was my responsibility. I was the one with the idea. I took the bull by the horns and I said, "Okay, get ready. [audience laughter] I love you." And she said, "I love you too." We both went, "Oh, my God. Thank God, that's over.” [audience laughter] It's so hard. But we made it through. We made it through.
And because that went so successfully, I wasn't worried about my dad at all. I knew he would say yes. I asked my dad, he said yes. We did our awkward I love yous. And the phone call was over. That was so great. But I have to say that after I got off that call, I broke down in tears. It was so emotional to actually have said that and it was so emotional to know that I had actually changed the culture of my family that night.
So, the next week, I called and you'll be happy to know that my I love you with my mom got ever so much less awkward that next week. So, we're doing really well. We're working it out. And then, I start talking to my dad and I realized that he might not remember that we hadn't made this agreement last week. So, I was ready to remind him. [audience chuckle] But you know something? That week, he said I love you first. He said I love you first every single week after that.
But you have to remember that my dad, sometimes he can’t quite remember whether I’m visiting for Thanksgiving or Christmas, but somehow, he was able to make this memory work. And guess what? I know why, because I’m a neuroscientist. [audience laughter] And I know, I know that emotional resonance is helpful for memories. It really pushes those memories into our long-term memory. So, the beautiful emotion of his daughter asking him whether she can say I love you to him, it beat dementia and it allowed him to form a new memory. [audience aww] You can be sure that I will keep that memory for the rest of my life. And now, that is why I study memory.
[cheers and applause]
Chloe: [00:25:21] That was Wendy Suzuki. Dr. Suzuki is Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences and Professor of Neuroscience at New York University. Her research focuses on how our brains retain long-term memories and the effects of exercise on our cognitive abilities.
That’s it for this episode. If listening to these stories has given you the confidence to tell your own, why not get up on stage at one of our Moth StorySLAMs? They happen throughout the year and all over the world. To find one near you, visit themoth.org/events.
Thank you to our storytellers for sharing with us and to you for listening. And to all, happy AAPI Heritage Month. We hope you’ll join us next time.
Marc: [00:26:02] Chloe Salmon is a director at The Moth. Her favorite Moth moments come on show days when the cardio is done, the house lights go down and the magic settles in.
Wendy Suzuki's story was directed by Meg Bowles, and Hari Sanghvi's story was coached by Michelle Jalowski. This episode of The Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin Jenness, Sarah Jane Johnson and me, Marc Sollinger. The rest of The Moth’s leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Jenifer Hixson, Kate Tellers, Marina Klutse, Suzanne Rust, Lee Ann Gullie and Patricia Ureña.
The Moth Podcast is presented by Audacy. Special thanks to their executive producer, Leah Reis-Dennis. All Moth stories are true, as remembered by their storytellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.