The Window
Chan remembers a bitter fight with her mother when she was younger. Her mom rejects and insults Chan for her queerness. Even as the words hurt, the daughter starts inching toward the window and her suicidal ideation. She remembers, however, how feelings change. And, after all, her mom is only so enraged because she cares, in a misplaced and close-minded way, but she cares nonetheless.
Names
Torn between her filial affection for her mother and loyalty to her female lover, Chan remains on guard so as not to open her lover up to her mother's criticism. This amounts to a sacred protection of her lover's name, even a few lies to shield against needing to her name. Although obviously this is a painful compromise for Chan, she doesn't wish to see her mother's disappointment or perhaps anger. She can identify how her mom yearns for her own love and approval, but at the same time Chan carries guilt for her own role in her romantic relationship because she understands that the secrecy harms her lover as well.
what my mother (a poet) might say
In this creative endeavor, Chan imagines what her mom would write if she were a poet. She crosses out line after line of intimate detail which she knows about her mother, but which she understands the woman would never dare confess in a poem. Instead, there is one repeated, perfectly impersonal line about historical calligraphy. The moment which comprise a life are not allowed to grace the page in Chan's understanding of her mother's ability to be vulnerable.
Flèche
Chan interweaves her personal life and her fencing. In school she joined the fencing team only to discover that her mother cared about the competition just as much as her. She found a new freedom in the gear, the clothes, the stances, and the company -- all of which awakened a comfort for Chan in her queerness. In the end she credits fencing with teaching her to embrace her own abilities as well as her identity.
