Photo by Brian Nguyen
steam, salt, pink crabs on their backs
grandpa sucks the spit through his teeth
splits the belly open
drinks from the shell, announces this delicacy loud enough to reach
the uncle who refuses to learn my name
……..when he is drunk he tells me, it is because you all look the same
the shell cracks like a stone strikes a flock of pecking birds
……..grandpa does not move
windows open like an apology
……..grandpa is telling a story
front door slams then he takes
……..street gang scraps and a cherry tree
the ocean’s place
……..in the springtime he will bring us bootleg herring roe
grandpa drags his spoon along the spine
he tells me
we will eat fish and duck and crab on his birthday
at fancy tables with thick white cloths
and round, heavy turn stiles that I can spin
and in the corner of that room, there will be a hakujin table
and for one delicious evening,
that is where uncle will sit
Erica Mika is a Yonsei Japanese Canadian writer born and raised in Mohkinstsis (Calgary) on Treaty 7 territory. Her writing focuses on reclaiming moments of resistance and refusal in intimate spaces and memories past. She is currently completing a PhD on the politics of literature at the University of Toronto.
Brian Nguyen is a visual storyteller whose creative path has taken him from Hanoi to Busan to Vancouver. Recently joining Ricepaper Magazine as Visual Editor, Brian brings a fresh and dynamic perspective shaped by his cross-cultural journey. With a background in Professional Communication and a passion for photography, he believes his mission is to connect with people—visually and emotionally—through stories that uplift, encourage and humanize. For Brian, visual storytelling isn’t just about aesthetics; it’s about reaching people where they are and making them feel seen.