Ocean Vuong

So he goes to work at Colt, which is a gun factory, and also in Connecticut, Newington.

And

He makes a smaller screw that goes into the Colt Magnum.

And gas pumps and guns is the most quintessential American story.

Every day after work, he hung up his uniform in our living room on a thumbtack.

We didn't own it, so we could not put anything on the walls.

We couldn't paint it.

We had to get permission.

It's a bureaucratic nightmare just to paint your walls.

He hung his shirt there because on the right chest, it said, no, N-G-O-C, his name with the diacritic stitched in beautiful blue thread.

And every time someone come over, he would point to that.

He said, I work at Standard Eye.

I have healthcare.

That's how low the bar was, right?

It's like, and we're still feeling that bar.

It's a big thing to say, I have healthcare.

It's a big thing to say, I have a salary.

It's a big thing to say, I belong to a place with a uniform.

They believe in me enough to give me a uniform with my name on it.

I looked at that for years, similar to how you describe your family in the farm.