Generational Welts
Megan Leung
Some people inherit wealth. Others inherit scars.
Through this darkly hilarious show, watch the journey of a Chinese-Vietnamese woman Mai, who survived 1970s Vietnam: a world of war, scarcity, and spicy gossip. Mai lives her life under a red light.
Stop. Be small. Don’t feel.
She overcame adversity by burying emotional landmines.
She tries to keep her Chinese-Canadian daughter Megan safe, living under a yellow light.
Cautious. Alert. No mistakes.
Growing up in Edmonton, Megan just wants to fit in, trying to take risks that continuously trip and trigger these traumas. This raw, one-woman show is an unapologetic look at cultural expectations, where daughters are told not to take up space, where mothers never get the chance to heal. It’s for anyone who’s ever been stuck between languages, between generations, between the conflict of never having a parent that will apologize and living in a city where strangers say sorry for bumping into you.
Laughing through the pain can guide us through a reluctant journey of healing, as we begin breaking cycles, setting boundaries, and learning not just to survive under a red or yellow light, but thrive in the limelight.
Be sure to remove your shoes before you step inside, leave behind your mismatched tupperware containers, and come join me as I unpack the invisible baggage of our mother-Phonging ancestors.
Through this darkly hilarious show, watch the journey of a Chinese-Vietnamese woman Mai, who survived 1970s Vietnam: a world of war, scarcity, and spicy gossip. Mai lives her life under a red light.
Stop. Be small. Don’t feel.
She overcame adversity by burying emotional landmines.
She tries to keep her Chinese-Canadian daughter Megan safe, living under a yellow light.
Cautious. Alert. No mistakes.
Growing up in Edmonton, Megan just wants to fit in, trying to take risks that continuously trip and trigger these traumas. This raw, one-woman show is an unapologetic look at cultural expectations, where daughters are told not to take up space, where mothers never get the chance to heal. It’s for anyone who’s ever been stuck between languages, between generations, between the conflict of never having a parent that will apologize and living in a city where strangers say sorry for bumping into you.
Laughing through the pain can guide us through a reluctant journey of healing, as we begin breaking cycles, setting boundaries, and learning not just to survive under a red or yellow light, but thrive in the limelight.
Be sure to remove your shoes before you step inside, leave behind your mismatched tupperware containers, and come join me as I unpack the invisible baggage of our mother-Phonging ancestors.
