Particularly, I focus on problems in smart grid, multi-agent systems, and distributed optimization and control, where there are many emergent and challenging issues arising from the integration of stochastic and intermittent renewable energy sources, the control approaches for demand response and real-time pricing, the detection and protection against cyber-attacks, etc.
HOA NGUYEN SERIES
My aim for the series is to investigate historical, personal, and cultural pressures of the period-as well as the difficulties of distance, memory and language itself.My current research mainstream is Applied Mathematics for Energy Systems which intersects between control systems, power and energy systems, and optimization, through collaboration with WPI-I2CNER. Part verse meditation and part documentary on 1960s Vietnam, it is a poetic narrative that includes a verse biography on my mother, Diệp Nguyễn, a stunt motorcyclist in an all-woman circus troupe. This poem is my way of answering back to these kinds of stereotypes and lack of true representation and is part of a series that I am developing.
Which taps into another racist, misogynistic tradition of exotifying and hyper-sexualizing Asian women.” They are more likely to be referenced in relation to sex work than they are to speak. In fact, women of color remain the most indistinct group of all in No Escape. The critic elaborates: “Meanwhile, not a single girl of color or woman of color speaks an important line of dialogue in the entire film.
HOA NGUYEN MOVIE
Just today I was reading this analysis on the vilified and anonymous representation of Asians in the film No Escape, an action movie set in a nameless Asian country with white people as the only central characters. I’m interested in representing Asian women outside of the typical stereotypes offered in the West in literature or popular culture. That’s when I decided that I needed to claim my life as a poet. And standing in front of a large group of grieving family and friends and speaking what I had written on love and loss allowed me to understand the incredible transformative power of words. The experience made me realize that I needed to make the most of this life even if it meant risk and failure. The collective grief was a horrible roar. When I told June that I was thinking about applying for a Masters in Social Work-my attempt at being practical-she asked, “Why not get an MFA in writing?” I put the thought aside as unworkable until several months later, just before Christmas, when a young woman I worked with, a friend, died in a fatal car accident.
I knew from watching my mother’s life how hard it was to have a career in the service industry. At the time, I was working as a bartender trying to figure out my next move. I took poetry workshops as an undergraduate at the University of Maryland and after earning my degree in Psychology, I enrolled in a workshop at the Bethesda Writers Center at the encouragement of poet friend June Coleman Magrab.
I think I always wrote poems, but I didn’t claim my life as a poet until in my mid twenties. When I was maybe 12, I discovered an anthology of Vietnamese poetry translated into English in my public library called A Thousand Years of Vietnamese Poetry. The first line from the introduction read something like, “The Vietnamese people have always considered themselves poets” and it unlocked something in me and granted me a kind of permission to write poetry.
0 kommentar(er)
