Dustin Kelley: Hello, my name is Dustin Kelley and I am archives librarian at Lewis & Clark College, and I am joined by my colleague Hannah Crumme. Today is June 10, 2021 and today we are interviewing Vo Vo.
Vo Vo: Cool.
DK: Would you be willing to start by stating your name and then just telling us a little bit about yourself?
VV: Yeah, my name is Vo Vo… [side conversation]... My name is Vo Vo. My Vietnamese name is Quoc Anh—either one is fine. My pronouns are they/them and I live in Portland, Oregon.
DK: Have you lived in Oregon your whole life?
VV: No, I was born in Aotearoa, otherwise known as New Zealand. I have lived in the states for about six years.
DK: Have you lived in Portland your entire time in the States?
VV: Pretty much, yeah, primarily.
DK: What neighborhoods in Portlands have you lived in?
VV: I chose to live in Saint Johns, because it was important for me not to displace or gentrify any Black neighborhoods, so I chose an area that was predominantly white working-class to settle in.
DK: What drew you to Portland in the first place?
VV: I was living in Berlin, Germany for about five years before moving to the States, and I had spent some time in Portland, but primarily people had given that feedback of like, “Portland is the Berlin of the States.” And I was like, “Oh, I don’t know about that,” but as an anarchist, it is the closest political place for me and social place for me and as a queer person, probably the most tolerant of all those things outside of Berlin, Germany. Then the States, in general, is because I am at the tail end of a thirty-plus year process of trying to reunite with my family members. So the States was kind of always on the cards since I was a little kid.
DK: What have been some of your first impressions of Portland now that you have lived here for several years?
VV: I cannot say a lot without getting in trouble with many of my employers I guess, but I would say it is the smallest city I have lived in, so sometimes I feel intellectually limited. I feel like culturally, it tries very hard, but sometimes there is a little bit of a bubble or cap on kind of creative and intellectual pursuits. Which is, in Europe or in Berlin, those things might be a little more expansive. Yeah, you know, obviously I have two kind of diverging professions and both are in response to the ways that Portland kind of manifests its identity in some way, especially racially.
Hannah Crumme: May I interject—I am interested in asking about your profession, and I am sure Dustin will do that, but can I first ask how has the limited creative scene impacted you?
VV: It has changed, you know, I think living in Berlin where I felt very unadulterated, I think you are kind of encouraged to just do anything that is in your mind and make it real. Kind of coming to the land of liability and cost-effectiveness and other things, you are limited a lot by those things. So it just really changed the direction of a lot of the work that I do and priorities that I had, which is fine, I am adaptive, so…
HC: I am sure we will hear more about that over the course of the interview but I am keen to know what shapes your work took, but I am sure Dustin's questions will lead us there.
DK: So, can you talk more about your career and some of the different things that you do for your occupations?
VV: Sure, so in Portland, my two jobs are professional artist, which I just started that career about a year ago. I graduated with an MFA about a year ago and I have been exhibiting and selling work since then, public works. My other profession is a radical educator and a consultant which I am currently passing off to Black and Indigenous folks who are younger than me, who want to take over that work. So for the last six years, I have predominantly been a radical educator. So supporting people in DEI, trauma-informed strategies, and anti-waste strategies, mental health strategies. I work with a lot of colleges as well, in looking at systems that could be more person-centered and less institution-centered. As someone who has survived a lot of institutions, that is kind of one of my priorities, and then specifically how those things can collide with the ways that whiteness manifests itself in Portland, which sometimes feels like where exceptionalism is a very strong character of Portland.
DK: Has your experiences in radical education primarily been Portland-based, or is it across the United States or the globe?
VV: It is international, so recently I have done training for the UK, for Australia, for Canada. For the east coast and southern organizations coming up, I have a lot of work supporting different Canadian organizations and British organizations. Oh, I forgot you asked me about my career. So initially when waiting for this visa that never came through, I studied architecture, thinking I was coming into architecture, and I studied acoustic science which I thought I would be primarily focused on like experimental acoustic science, which is more of what I did in Berlin. But coming here there was not a lot of understanding of what that was, so what I studied was— there was no space or niche for weird experimental architecture so that is how I ended up doing radical education, which that was not my education background at all. The art thing also came about accidentally in response to some of the things I was seeing in the last few years coming out of the Trump era.
DK: Can you tell us a little bit more about your artwork, and do you have any favorite projects that you have exhibited?
VV: I studied visual art in my Masters and I had a show, like my first major solo exhibition, in March, and it ended in April. That was covered by Artforum International, and there was an article in the Willamette Week, which is how the person that contacted me found out about me for this project. So the work kind of crosses between diasporic expressions of not just being Vietnamese, not just being from a refugee family, but specifically from a working-class family that experienced a lot of specific types of displacement and community discrimination or violence. So really specific experiences. And then it crosses over to pedagogical formats. So, my last show was really in response to BLM, abolition, the last year of political awareness changing in Portland, Oregon. So that show was a little bit about my experience, but mainly it was a call to action and reflection on the last twelve months.
HC: Can I ask where the show took place?
VV: Yeah, it was in Fuller Rosen Gallery, is where it was shown physically, and then after that, it was dismantled and rehung at Yale Union for a documentary that was filmed.
HC: Lovely. I am interested also in more specifics, in your sense of your last year in Portland? As you know, part of the purpose of this archive is to develop a history of people's experiences in Portland.
HC: So I am quite interested in your sense of the year and...
VV: I mean yeah, so an anarchist and abolitionist, I think it is interesting to see the promises of Portland being a left-wing city really kind of step into some more rhetoric around that. My personal position as a community member shifted— I quit my non-profit job to become a public abolitionist and I was supporting and training a lot of direct action groups and political groups in the mutual aid work that they were doing. So yeah, my work shifted from just organizational support to like applicable support, like Street Medics, like the kind of real application of one, dealing with the trauma of a global pandemic and then two, increased houselessness, increased depression, and suicidal ideation, and mental health changes in community members. So just working with community members while all of that is escalating.
HC: What groups did you work with?
VV: A lot of them would not want to be named so I will not name them, but I have worked with those who would not mind being named, like Portland Street Medics, which is working with a lot of doctors. Trying to think of ones that would not mind being named… I think Snack Bloc would not mind being named.
HC: And you do not have to tell us anything that does not make sense to tell us, I am just curious.
VV: Okay, yeah cool. Yeah, so a lot of groups that were organizing public events and then also groups that were supporting, like philanthropy groups, and groups that wanted to do more relief work or mutual aid work and were not sure how to start. So different levels of the response of Covid response and community response.
HC: May I ask quite an ignorant question?
HC: I do not know what public abolitionist means.
VV: It just means [when] I stepped into working for a non-profit, I could not potentially be really really clear about my stance in not believing in police or prisons and their existence. Then once leaving my affiliation with a structured organization with federal funding I could then be clear about my political position and then do talks and public education around what abolition can look like or how it is already practiced or what projects already exist and how transformative justice works. All these models that already exist in response to a call for abolition, which I think was an abstract thing that people were talking about, that I was trying to bridge the gap between the abstract to the practical.
HC: That makes sense.
DK: Let's switch gears just a little bit— I want to talk a little bit about community. I guess first let's ask about how do you think about the term community. What is a community to you?
VV: I think this is a difficult word for me. As someone who has lived in eight countries and has had to find a home in very abstract concepts that are not physical or tangible most of the time. And then also being part of the thirty-plus-year process of trying to be accepted into a country where my family already lived, meant that I have these specific perceptions of inside and outside, accepted and not accepted, community member and outside of the community. So I think that it can be a tricky term. I think that when we imply a group we also imply people who are out of the group and that is sometimes treacherous. I think when adding that with diaspora and the idea of intergenerational distancing from culture, language, and experience, it is complicated.
So what I always say is like when people are coming into like their Vietnamese identity or their refugee identity or Asian identity, when they are like, “Oh, I want to connect to this thing, but I also do not know the language or do not know anyone from that family or I am adopted,” or you know, all of those things, I just kind of respond with, “Yeah, diaspora is the process of figuring it out, and not necessarily having a concrete idea of identity or community or who you are potentially connected to.” It is just the process of trying to think about that stuff and ask questions around that. The community, even within the Vietnamese community, I am Southern Vietnamese, I am from the Delta. I was living in Berlin where it was mostly North Vietnamese settlers. It was really different from growing up in places where I was around other Southern Vietnamese people. You know, there is a huge class difference. People were laughing at my accent. Vietnamese is my first language. So, I think there is an arbitrary line around Vietnamese people or Vietnamese Portlanders. Like this project, it is very complex and it is important to know what it means if someone is Northern or Southern, or did they fight for the liberation army, like which… what study have they done since then, and what does it mean to be a leftist in a family that was negatively impacted by leftist ideals? So yeah, there is a lot of complexity in that word.
DK: Understanding the definite complexities in the word “community,” do you currently feel any connection to the Vietnamese American community here in Portland?
VV: It is my first time living in a city that does not have a really definitive Chinatown. Like a proper, active, thriving Chinatown. So that is number one, is that I have always had a touchpoint of strong visible Asian richness which Portland has—obviously, their Chinatown has been completely dismantled. Then number two, usually when you go to a particular area like Little Saigon in Seattle or in East Oakland, all those different places, you can go to the store but the store is usually a center point for a very rich Vietnamese neighborhood. But in moving here in the last six years, really not feeling the same concentration in Eighty-Second and Division, or the so-called Jade District, and really noticing the dilution. In other places, you really sense a segregation that is rich and has really strong connections. So yeah, it has been really strange. I want to practice my first language a lot more and I have to just go to a supermarket to do that. I cannot just walk around a neighborhood, which normally I would just do a walk and chat to people who are hanging out in the street. But in Portland, that is almost impossible because everyone is so disparate and spread out. Then also, I am from a Buddhist background and there is a pretty strong Catholic community. That is fine, it is just pretty different from what I was brought up with. I was brought up with a lot of temples and temple foods and temple activities. So yeah, it is the place with the least kind of connection that I have lived in, unfortunately. Then the other part of it is even in Seattle or other places you have younger Vietnamese people who maybe have more leftist ideals and can talk academically and intellectually about politics or philosophy, and there is only a smaller group of folks. I think I know a lot of them, if not all of them, the more leftist people who are my age and have similar political leanings.
DK: Do you still identify as a Buddhist?
VV: I never identified as a Buddhist, no. We just have traditional practices that kind of align with some temple practices. It was mainly my grandparents who have now passed away who were more strictly Buddhist. But I still practice really strong Vietnamese traditions of ancestor worship and death rituals and things.
DK: You mentioned a few advocacy groups that you have participated in, especially in the last year. I am curious if you have participated in any community organizations more generally in Portland.
VV: I do not feel like I have even participated, I just get brought in to support and teach. I think in the past I have been a part of Asians for Black Lives. I am an avid supporter of some Black-led organizations in Portland including the AAPRP Oregon (All-African People's Revolutionary Party). But I think lately since May Day, I tried to join the International Migrant Alliance because again, I am still trying to find this space of like migrants, people who are outsiders in the way that I am an outsider, an immigrant to the States, who also are leftist, who also have an anti-imperial analysis. So that is who I have most recently connected with to try and find that. But I have only met one person from that group. So I have not got to a point where I have built community yet.
DK: I am curious, when have you felt most at home in Portland? Like what do you like most about that city and your community?
VV: I think just knowing— like especially someone who has been in every state in the States besides Hawaii— knowing that I can walk down the street in most places in Portland and not have a Trump sign shoved in my face or not be stared at. I think just the comfort of knowing that you are a part of a dominant culture is really important politically and socially. It is so comforting and relaxing as opposed to being in any other place. So even going to Scappoose, like going down the road to St. Helens or something, that kind of stress comes up. That is partly formed by the twenty or so years I lived in Australia, where we were victimized for our identity and our politics. It was constant arming of oneself when you did move through space. Knowing that I have to not do that in Portland is the most home feeling that I can identify.
DK: Have you ever experienced challenges in Portland, either discrimination or racism?
VV: Of course, yeah, absolutely. I mean I had a gun pulled on me, I had an automatic rifle pulled on me in downtown Portland by people in a truck who I am pretty sure were from Vancouver, Washington. Yeah, of course, nothing new and nothing different from [what] other People of Color [experience] in Portland. I think that, again, knowing that is a minority approach as opposed to a majority approach is still really comforting.
DK: In your mind, what role does being a Vietnamese American play in your life?
VV: Yeah, so I do not identify as the American part.
HC: Right, I was just going to say probably not American.
VV: Yeah, I just got my citizenship in June of last year. That was after, like I said, two rejections and thirty years of process. I have written poetry about this and other things but I think that it is important to be a dissenter and to be a critical citizen wherever you are. So I think personally, the role that I feel responsible to and when I have a kid I hope that I bring up that kind of kid as someone who can analyze and critically reflect on the systems around them, if the systems are not serving people in the way they should be. Yeah, so as someone who has chosen to reside here as a settler colonizer, I attempt to continue supporting Black and Indigenous struggles and communities and recognize privileges of Vietnamese identity and community, and use that privilege to try to benefit people who are more marginalized, and continue to push back against systems that are exploiting or using people.
HC: May I ask a sort of insufficiently formed and complex question?
VV: Sure, go for it.
HC: This comes from—I lived abroad for a long time, and eventually got citizenship in Britain, but never felt like a British person. So I am wondering, as a person who has applied for citizenship several times, and has ultimately achieved it, do you think there will be a time when you feel American? What do you think would make you feel American? Not that you have to feel American, but rather…
VV: No, I do not think that—I mean I identify as someone who is from New Zealand. I identify as a Vietnamese person, I also identify as a queer person, or as an anarchist. So I think identity is multi-dimensional. There are moments where I laugh at how American a moment might feel. Like when I shot my first gun or when I ate my first red meat or when I bought my first car. Like there are just so many things—when I ate my first burger. It is constant when you get moments of like, “Well, I am really living this caricature of American life right now.” But I do not think that is the same as what you are asking. I think that so much of my identity is defined by my outsider perspective and the ability to kind of see how things might not be working. Whether that is attached to being American or not or individuals or not or capitalist or not, whatever the root cause of that thing is, my artistry and my education and my identity is so much [invested in] the outsider perspective that I probably will never be like, “I am American” [says in American accent].
HC: That is how I felt as well, I understand. I am interested in—you mentioned just now a couple of moments or several moments of like, “This is such an American moment or this is such a caricature of an American moment.” Just in terms of stories, I am interested in how you found yourself in those situations and then how those made you feel.
VV: I am someone who is willing to experience new things and put myself into uncomfortable situations, just so I know what it is like. So I am always consenting with all those things. I was vegan for twenty-two years and then hunted for the first time, slaughtered a deer for the first time. So those are things I wanted to understand.
HC: That seems quite adventurous to me.
HC: That seems so adventurous to me.
VV: Yeah, how do I explain this—I try to be responsive to where I am, and if I am in the Pacific Northwest then I will try to be responsive to the call of those spaces. You know, Pacific Northwest spaces. That includes the way I relate to water as well as land. Similarly when I lived in Berlin —a complete urban jungle, no connection to nature at all— I tried to be responsive to that, and I was a weird artist. So I think that yeah, just coming here and being open to learning things that feel like there are ways to connecting to where I am. Like right now I am in the Northeast and I will probably do some Northeastern stuff in the next two weeks. I think for me it is about engagement and how do I attempt to fully engage through my limited lens with where I am?
HC: How do you do that? But particular with how you try to react or engage with water as well as land. How do you engage with the natural scenery and the city of Portland?
VV: Yeah, I camp regularly, even during COVID when we could not leave we would camp in the backyard. Hunting and reading more about Indigenous history in Oregon and current Indigenous struggles with the drought. Yeah, going on a boat, just understanding the tributary around St. Johns and the confluences of two rivers and understanding the history of the Gorge, and Celilo Falls and how that was an important trade spot. Yeah, I don’t know, that is an endless answer I could give, but I think it is a continual period of study and trying to respect the importance of specific places and how they are key to cultures immemorially.
DK: Thank you for those answers, I really appreciated it. I would like to back up a little bit and hear a little bit about your background. What was your childhood like, having grown up in New Zealand and Australia?
VV: Yeah, my childhood was kind of defined by this imminent immigration process. So from the age of six or so I was told, “We are going to the States next week or next month or in six months.” So I was encouraged to prepare for a very big move and I was not encouraged to build relationships or invest in where I was. This continued up to the age of twenty-two or so, to the point of like, “Do not worry about university, do not worry about planning for the future because we are going to go, we are going to the States.” So I think “limbo” would be one word to describe a lot of my childhood. I was an observer a lot of the time, I was a translator for my family members and administrator and the adult as a kid all of the time. I had to negotiate with people who were assaulting us, and you know, targeting our house. So yeah, just having to be a mediator of culture and not just of individuals.
DK: Can you tell us a little bit more about your family context?
VV: In what sense?
DK: Tell us more just about your family in general.
VV: Yeah, so I will give you the historical and then social. But the things I discovered this morning were these ID cards from the Songkhla refugee camp. [Vo shows pictures] I can take proper photos of these and show them to you but that was my dad and this was my mom, her ID card. Because I asked them, "How long did you stay on the beach?" And it was around six months. I was like, “When did you exactly arrive in New Zealand?” And we dug through those things to get the dates, and this was my parents and their arrival into the refugee camp. This is who else they were with which was my maternal half of my maternal family and I love how faded these are as well. But it is my maternal grandparents and three of my mother's brothers. So yeah, I have basically maternal family who were and are scattered through the western world because of this process that divides everybody. So some of them ended up in the States some of them ended in New Zealand or Australia and because of that division, we spent the last thirty years trying to reunite in the States and then my paternal family is still predominantly in the Mekong Delta in Vietnam and I have one sibling who is twenty who, even though she was born in Australia is a strong American, and not just American, a Bostonian, she goes to Northeastern and she has got a really strong identity of middle-class American. Yeah, so just me, one sibling, and my parents, plus the extended [family].
DK: For those who have left Vietnam, when did they leave? And I am sure it is going to be a few different answers, and can you describe what that process was like?
VV: Yeah, so what I learnt today was that my mom's oldest brother left in 1979 and then two more brothers left shortly after that and ended up in the States. And then these people, which is three siblings, her parents, and then dragging my dad along, was in 1980. So they arrived in the refugee camp on the 29th of April of 1980 and they were in the camp until October, which is after that, when they arrived in New Zealand. Well, some of them arrived in New Zealand, they were split up again. And then in an effort to try to get into a better lottery to get [into] the States, we moved to Australia in 1990, so nine years later.
DK: How long did you stay in Australia?
VV: Off and on for twenty years, whilst waiting for—because when your name is on the Visa, you cannot spend much time in the country that you have applied for because people are suspecting that you are trying to settle there permanently. So I was not able to be here for very long [at a time, maybe a couple weeks]. But my mom and dad immigrated from Australia to the States in 2002 and I stayed on until 2009. And then I moved to Berlin. But in that time, the twenty or so years that I was there, or nineteen years that I was there, I lived in Mexico, Nepal, Vietnam, like I moved around as a young person, because I was waiting for the paperwork, so I was like, "Well, while I am waiting, I will just experience this year in this place and teach here or do community work or social work over here." And then after moving... after 2009, I moved to Berlin and then London and then here.
DK: So do you have any questions you hoped we would ask you that we have not today, or anything you would like to share?
VV: I have a really weird life and it is predominantly... I have toured a lot. Before moving here I was on two national tours with my writing. I think Lewis & Clark College has some of my publications in [their library]. So I experienced the States as a visitor, from the age of eight. I do not know why this is important but it feels important: I had an external view of the States from the the age of eight visiting my grandparents, then visiting my parents, so I had this snapshot, this bi-yearly snapshot, that allowed me to have a particular perspective. And then touring twice nationally with the writing, it was mainly universities and other types of venues, again allowed me to have a specific kind of cross-section perspective before so-called “settling” here. So I do not know why that is important but it is not like a linear thing of like I showed up here and then moved in and had some kind of built understanding, I was really critical of the roles that the States in that conflict, the Vietnam conflict, but also in the Middle Eastern conflicts and the way that US imperialism has defined my life in limbo and defined many people's life in limbo right now, on the US-Mexico border.
So yeah, I think that we did not really talk about, I guess, political analysis but I think it is important to think about how being an immigrant or even being an outsider or outside looking in means that you just kind of build this awareness or analysis of a nation's power, you know, over time.
DK: Thank you for sharing that.
HC: Can you tell us more about that?
VV: Oh, yeah, I don’t know, like seeing the direct impact of not just US imperialism but growing up and going to Thailand and Vietnam and seeing the impact of US capitalism and the way Coca-Cola or Nike or McDonalds expands and claims land and claims culture, and seeing the way that US monoculture really taking over subtle local cultures get absorbed into the blob of, “We want to look like Britney Spears,” or “We want to look like Miley Cyrus,” yeah, just I think in living in Nepal and Mexico and Vietnam, just seeing how ubiquitous US hegemony is, not just politically but culturally, through TV and pop culture. And being able to critique that and saying, “Okay, I recognize that,” and hopefully there are ways to immigrate into the States and not also have to assimilate or not have to specifically match a particular mold of so-called success of so-called Americanism. Does that answer your question?
HC: Yeah. May I ask a question that circles way back to the beginning of the interview about your teaching?
HC: I am interested in your curriculum. What type of thing—I mean, I understand broadly, but in more specifics—what do you teach?
VV: So I guest-teach a lot in universities, in the schools of social work, psychology, law, and all of the different arts. So people kind of bring me in to talk about abolition and transformative justice or bring me into anti-racism and social work, whatever the specific subject that they are doing. So that's the school thing. And then I also consult and work for arts organizations, social work organizations, education organizations, elementary up to higher ed. And then I work for people who are doing different types of first response work or community response work [and train in trauma and mental health]. So I think it is all different, but people will just ask me, they will be like... an unnamed national network, I am about to train them, and they are national, they are corporate, and they just want a training in how communication differs between different cultures. So it is an intercultural communication curriculum, and again, these are things that I build up from scratch, from my own personal experience. So you get that all the way from the corporate thing wanting more like, “I am going to train at New Seasons in the next two months in anti-racism,” so people want very specific things that are applicable for their daily... so they just tell me what they want and then I build something for that. But it is essentially, how do you center a client or a customer or a student, how do you move past being authoritarian or trying to... impose an institutional agenda and how do you maximize someone's humanization during that process?
HC: How have you found people respond to that?
VV: So I do not advertise any of my work, I have never advertised, people only invite me—so first of all, I am there because they have asked me to be there, so they are pretty willing participants, even when I worked with rural schools or schools in the south, people are really hungry for that knowledge and that is why they have invited me there. I have never been where I have not been invited, so. And yeah, there is a range of understanding and there is a range of willingness, and that is okay, like that is part of my skill set, is to try to massage people who maybe do not want to even open up to that. So part of what I teach is Black exclusion in the history of Oregon and history of housing policies and gentrification and stuff like that too, and not everyone wants to hear that stuff. That is okay, I have been asked to be there and talk about that stuff, so I just do it.
HC: It seems like conversations around some of these things, at least as far as I have observed as not a professional in this area, have been developing more rapidly than they did earlier in my life. Is that true, have you seen culture changing this, or...?
VV: I think it depends on the bubble or it depends on the sector. The first tour I did was called Race Riot, it was with five other writers of color and that was in 2012. And then the next tour was 2013 with I think ten other writers of color who were all generating thinking and analysis around different aspects of racialized and culturalized experience in the United States. And that was really rich and people were hungry for it. And then, you know, now you have since BLM uprisings and #landback movements, things that are gaining traction, sure, it changes the popularity of the conversation, but those conversations have been passionate for generations, I would imagine. So I do not believe in a steady incline, I do not really believe in critical mass or— I believe that people have been having these conversations for over a hundred years, since before civil rights, it just really depends on the location and the subsection of the group.
HC: That makes sense.
DK: Hannah, do you have any more questions you would like to ask?
HC: Not off the top of my mind, this has been fascinating. I feel like you have a very important perspective that we have not heard many stories like yours. So I do not have any other questions right off the top of my mind.
VV: Yeah, I looked through who you have maybe spoken to and I think a lot of immigrants are pressured to assimilate to have a specific, more capitalist ideals, and I think it is good to talk to more maybe anti-capitalist Vietnamese people, or political—there are so many different weirdos like me that live in Portland, that is why we live in Portland, that you could pick up on. And I could try and send you some names when I am in front of a computer, I just do not have any social media so I do not really know how best to communicate with some of them. Even someone like Kanh Pham who is an Oregon representative now, she is a very definite leftist, ecological activist, so there are lots of different perspectives.
DK: And we certainly want to capture that, and we would definitely welcome any introductions, so thank you for that.
VV: Yeah, I will do my best.
DK: Alright, well, this concludes our interview. Again, this has been Dustin Kelley and Hannah Crumme and we've been speaking with Vo Vo. Today is June 10, 2021, thank you so much.
VV: Cool, thank you. Have a great evening.