My mom’s hero donated $880,000 to Bill Clinton in 1996.

Such philanthropy seemed implausible, so I did a little research and asked my mom about this mystery Asian woman-who apparently really loves the Clintons-during winter break. Defensive and fighting back her tears, my mom insisted that “Supreme Master Ching Hai” is the panacea for the scourges of today’s society. The very mention of Ching Hai as the wolfish cult leader she is sent my mom into rage of emotion: this is now her god.

Ching Hai readily accepts this title. She is a Vietnamese vegan who runs a worldwide chain of restaurants called Loving Hut. She lives in a chateau in Europe. She runs a 24-hour television network with programming that’s subtitled in 21 languages (the text itself fills more than half of the screen). And she has allegedly sold her bathwater to the highest bidder to drink. Little else is known about this woman. She is incredibly secretive and she gains followers by promoting her dubious Quan Yin meditation method, not to mention by hawking her overpriced art and jewelry.

I asked my mom, “If you met Supreme Master Ching Hai, what would you say to her?”

“I love you,” my mom said without hesitation.

This is worrisome to me. My mom was raised Buddhist and has always been devout. Last year, my mom learned about Ching Hai and for some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t see past the hoax of the grimacing woman with Lady Gaga blonde hair or the cartoon animals with word bubbles coming out of their heads saying things like “We pray for your souls. Please don’t eat us.” My mom plunged into a period of staying up late at night streaming Ching Hai’s videos off the Internet. She stopped going to Buddhist temple. And she bought 50 copies of a Ching Hai children’s book called “The Birds in My Life” (a tacky, grammatically unsound scrapbook replete with odes to Ching Hai’s poor, poor pet birds) and donated them to the Salt Lake public library system. Needless to say, the library staff never put the books on its shelves.

And Bill Clinton, too, rejected and returned the funds, which were dubiously raised.

Yet the Daily Northwestern’s advertising section went ahead and welcomed Supreme Master Ching Hai’s ad dollars. On April 26, the first ad was published on page 11 and I immediately contacted the Daily with my concerns. Today, you’ll find the ad again. Three more times this quarter.

But, hey, anything for a buck, right?

I am concerned that the Daily published and will continue publishing this ad and I hope that no reasonable student, faculty, or Evanston resident takes the ad seriously. No, you won’t save the world if you are vegan. I’m glad to say that my vegan friends at NU don’t suffer from the delusion. And you probably won’t save the world if you purchase Ching Hai’s jewelry or bathwater either.

I want to laugh about all of this. The ad is absurd and the message is sickeningly blithe. But this woman is tearing my family apart under the guise of philanthropy and environmentalism. I cannot stay quiet about this. Even as a member of the Daily staff, I feel compelled to raise this issue.

The fact that the Daily Northwestern, an award-winning student publication at a university that houses one of the leading journalism schools in the nation, continues to run this advertisement is a farce. To do so is to accept and, worse, to promote a known and dangerous cult.

-Dan Tham

Medill sophomore