Coffee Ice Cream

Last May, it was a normal Saturday family-get-together at my grandparents’ apartment. With good food, family, laughter, and conversation, an ordinary evening soon became very disappointing. I noticed that the design of the Häagen-Dazs coffee-flavored ice cream cups that I had eaten my entire life had changed. The timeless, simplistic coffee bean illustration and patterns lining the side of the cup were replaced with a bright, colorful, and, frankly, childish design. “It’s just a design,” I thought–I was wrong. Design has this special way of capturing memories, creating nostalgia, conveying emotion, and spreading a message.

All of my life, my grandparents have bought the Häagen-Dazs ice cream cups not only for me and my sister but for my entire family. Visits to my grandparents’ house quickly became a way to fill our sweet tooth cravings. In my junior year, when I was prompted to write an essay about food and memory, writing about the ice cream cups was a no-brainer. After I told my mom about the packaging change, she encouraged me to read this essay to the rest of my family. “The ‘old days’ of the uneven roughness of the tan carpet on my bare feet, the tune of the old Vietnamese song that was always playing quietly in the background, the sound of a knife, knocking on the cutting board over and over again, as my grandma cut me and my sister a plate of apples to enjoy with a cold glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.”

I could see the flood of memories into their minds and tears out of their eyes. We were, at the moment, in the room where my sister and I spent our childhood summer days, where my grandparents have spent their retirement after their long lives as war survivors and adjusting to American life as refugees, where my relatives spent quality time with each other, where we have all eaten those tiny ice cream cups, where we all have been happy.

*Nathan & his sister with their ông bà ngoại*

I’ve always had a fear of being judged for my actions so as a result, I have always done what others wanted me to do. Deciding to pursue a career in design was not easy for me. I doubted my ability to artistically and financially succeed in the field and did not want to be judged by friends and family. At the beginning of junior year when the questions of, “where do you want to go to college?” and “what do you want to be when you grow up?” arose, I was afraid—afraid of committing to what I really wanted to do: Design. Ultimately, I was afraid of disappointing my family. I felt that if I failed, I would have destroyed everything they have worked for and everything they have done for me. However in the back of my mind, I knew that my family would be there for me—they always have. After countless days of consideration, I decided to go for it; I wanted to follow my dreams and do what I wanted despite the risk of failure and judgment.

The Häagen-Dazs ice cream cups are a reminder to me of how fortunate I am to have loved-ones that will support me no matter what. My grandparents have instilled this virtue of unconditional love into my cousins, my aunts, my uncles, my parents, and my friends that has made a deep and positive impact on people’s lives. My goal for my design career is to create this same sense of meaning and impact on the world with my design. With so many negatives in the world, it is easy to lose sight of what we, as a society, need to do in order to grow. Much like the Häagen-Dazs ice cream cups, I want my design to be that reminder, that positive impact, and that call to unconditional love for the world.

Mama