Cookie Do
Everyone has heard the Asian American smelly lunch story a million times and can relate to—or, at least—understand the feeling of otherness that BIPOC experience. While that’s not our origin story, growing up in a predominantly White area such as Portland, Oregon pushed us to disconnect from our roots in a lot of ways.
Our family always stressed the importance of maintaining our language so we spent every weekend learning Vietnamese. Saturdays were writing and grammar courses at a local college; Sundays were more writing and grammar alongside bible study at our Vietnamese Catholic Church. We exclusively spoke Vietnamese at home and ate Vietnamese food for every meal, save for Top Ramen and Hot Pockets. Being constantly surrounded by Vietnamese language, food, and culture made our lives a stark contrast to the realities of the American public school system and navigating interracial friendships. Within that system, we existed as minorities in every way.
We didn’t really have Asian friends growing up, simply because there weren’t many Asian people in our area. Consequently, I happily turned away tradition to embrace American culture as I grew up, but I always ended up feeling stuck somewhere in between. I think this is a feeling shared by most first-generation Asian Americans. In our youth, it’s much easier to assimilate to white culture than be anything considered out of the norm. These past few years have been more time spent reconnecting with family through our culture, and it’s been a very grounding, yet empowering experience. I am Vietnamese and I am American—and I am thankful to say that I no longer feel a stark contrast between the two.
Everyone deserves to exist in this world as they are, on equal footing as their peers, and without judgement. The experience of otherness is one of our drivers for activism. We empathize with the Black community, but we recognize that the injustices we have faced as Asian Americans are incomparable to theirs. With BLM, we have been pushing to educate ourselves and to figure out methods of meaningful allyship. This journey intersected with our quarantine-sparked baking experiments. One afternoon, our aunt stopped by and we brought out some baked goods for dessert. She liked them so much that she offered to pay us for a couple dozen. We joked about turning this into a business, but a few laughs later, Cookie Do Bake Co. was born.
Making and sharing food and resources is a big part of our culture. Vietnamese people are quite collectivist, and this is something that has always been instilled in us by our family. The idea of baking cookies for a cause made us really happy, and we’ve been excited to contribute in a small way. 100% of our proceeds are donated toward organizations that advocate for BlPOC. So far, this has included PAALF, Black Visions Collective, The Loveland Foundation, and Elijah McClain’s Memorial Fund.
Cookie Do is our little dedication to supporting the creation of an inclusive community that fosters opportunity in healing, empowerment, and liberation for BIPOC—a world where otherness is nonviolent, celebrated, and embraced.
Caitlin Do is a Vietnamese American type and graphic designer born and raised in Portland, Oregon. She is currently working on revival typefaces at Republish and as a contributor to Viets4BLM.
When she’s not staring at a screen for work, she stares at a screen for gaming. She also enjoys researching butterflies and spends a lot of time dancing in front of a mirror. In June 2020, she co-founded Cookie Do Bake Co. with her favorite sister, Audrey Do.
Photography by Caitlin Do & Audrey Do
Illustrations by Clare Q. Davidovich