This article is part of Mochi’s fall 2024 issue on Resilience, redefined as “finding agency in adversity and fighting for radical change.” We highlight the strength of individuals and communities and their courage in dismantling systems of injustice. Our hope is that you will feel the strength pulsing through these stories and that you also are inspired to pair resilience with actions that lead to real, necessary, and revolutionary change.
Mango green tea, regular ice, 30% sugar, with — most importantly — boba. More than just my classic order, during the past few months, it became almost a mantra. Throughout a grueling spring semester, I drew motivation from an unexpected source: the boba I bought myself after work every Friday. Often, this became the highlight of my week. Some days a friend accompanied me; other times, I frequented Tea-Do or Boba King alone. Either way, the effects were clear. After the first sip, my tension dissipated. A rush of happiness — sometimes the first I’d felt in days — permeated my body, the tangy flavor of mango dancing on my tongue. Even the simple act of carrying my drink across campus, sipping intermittently — trying to savor each pearl’s subtle sweetness — was a transformative one. Every face I passed belonged no longer to an impassive stranger, but a potential friend, linked to me by the cup in my hand.
I am immensely grateful for the privilege to be able to treat myself in this way, as the price of even the cheapest boba is an unjustifiable expense for many. Still, in recent years, its prevalence in America has only seemed to increase.
A brief history of boba, also known as bubble tea, reveals its origins in Taiwan. While its roots trace back to the development of shou yao during WWII, the drink assumed its current form in the late 1980s, when two different tea houses — Chun Shui Tang and Hanlin Tea Room — claim to have concurrently invented it by adding black tapioca balls to milk tea (the dispute over…
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