When Being Home Means Speaking German on Bastille Day in a Los Angeles Bistro

How I Made Peace With My Curious Tri-Cultural Upbringing

Is it “perilous fight” or “perilous night”?

We’re at a Dodger game and I’ve decided to just mumble that part of the national anthem. I see it as a victory that I don’t have to look at the Jumbotron for most of the lyrics, though my ignorance might shock or offend many Americans. How does an 18-year-old, born and raised right here in California, not know the entire “Star-Spangled Banner”?

That was two years ago. While I have since learned that it is perilous fight, I still don’t know the Pledge …