peace

Window of Opportunity

French Fries, Dumplings, & Wonton Soup : The Art of being Chinese American

Chamerica. The land and home of the Chinese American. It is a place that we can call home; a place that is simply created for us. Chinglish. It’s national language of the Chamerica; the perfect unity between the Chinese and English language. Food? We eat french fries, hamburgers, rice, dumplings, and wonton soup. Chamerican food is the perfect medley between Chinese and American cuisine. We live in the world of cultural fusion.

Now, you may be asking yourself, why exactly do we need a land of our own?

Because we belong nowhere. Perhaps it is because we can identify with both worlds, but, perhaps it is because we cannot fully identify with both worlds as well. A Chinese American is the solid unity between Chinese and America having grown up with both Chinese and American traditions. In America, we are Chinese first, always identified as “Chinese American”. However, in China, we are identified as “American Born Chinese” otherwise known as “ABC".

As a child, I’ve often struggled with racial identity and my own self identity. Because racial and cultural identity play such a large role in a person’s self understanding, it was hard to see where I belonged. I grew up in a strict Chinese household with rules and traditions that go back generations ago. I was different than others my own age; I had different values, morals and views . In a sense, I essentially missed out on an American childhood. In a Chinese household, education and respect for elders is priority. In grade school, homework and extra homework given to us by our lovely teachers and parents had to be finished before going outside to play. After that there was the hour long piano practice, private violin lessons, art lessons, and of course room cleaning. And then there was singing lessons, private tutors, and more extra homework. And by the time all the tasks were finished and done to my mother’s perfectionist standards, all the kids on my block had already gone home so they could eat dinner and do homework. I swear my mother made it impossible for me to ever a social life.

The clash of two cultures followed me throughout grade school, middle school, and high school. I grew up very confused as to where I belonged and wondering why I was so different from my friends. I would wonder to myself "Why can't I be like everyone else?" There would be days where I would wish to myself that I was white and not Chinese. I hated being different and simply wanted the life of others. As I grew older, I began to appreciate my differences, as cliché as that sounds, and came to realize that my strengths were my "abnormalities". My work ethic, dedication to school and morals were the product of my immigrant parents. However, I never truly understood my culture and the pride that I have of my culture until this summer.

to be continued..

Letting go.

Taking the Initative

It's all about taking the initiative, the strive, ambition and how badly you want it.
If you want it bad enough, it'll happen.
It's about taking what you have and making the best of it.
It's about finding a new direction, a path, a perspective, and discovering the possibilities.
It's about taking the first step, and running until you can't run anymore, and starting your own path.


It's about taking initiative.

Riding off into the Sunset