H called me. I was in my new second home, the university library, writing a policy memo on the conflict in Yemen. I knew something was different about this call. I stepped out of the library and picked up the phone.
“Hey, what’s goin on?” I answered naturally.
“Um,” she was quiet. I listened intently.
“Derek P, you know. He passed away today. He crashed into a semi-truck.”
I grew up in a small, coal-mining town in Utah. As mentioned before, I was the only half-Asian around and I was often teased for being ‘weird.’ Luckily, I had great friends to help me survive the battlefield called elementary school, but middle school was an entirely different playing field.