Enmeshed Between Two Cultures
As an ABC, born to a Fujianese father and a Taiwanese mother, I am often enmeshed between two clashing cultures. In the United States, I am taught to strive for my dreams, whatever they may be, but as a child of immigrant parents, I juggle between the traditional, more conservative values embraced by my parents, and the Western values of American society. More often than not, on my path to discovering myself, I willingly choose to follow the more traditional values instilled within me by my family. I am a cultural hybrid— a child of two worlds— but beyond that, I often find myself at a loss when trying to describe myself.
The Museum of Chinese in America (MOCA) presented a variety of Chinese individuals who have achieved fame and success for their accomplishments in their respective fields and careers. As I gazed upon the rectangular displays, I realized that I recognized many of these faces. In a matter of a few sentences, the brief descriptions accompanying the photos summed up the whole of their accomplishments. These are the faces of great Chinese Americans; faces that are proudly published, perhaps even flaunted, on Chinese and Taiwanese newspapers and magazines distributed overseas and here.
From childhood, my mother has posted newspaper clippings and photos of these famous faces— scattering them throughout our home to remind my brother and I who we can become. Before reaching for floss behind the three-paned bathroom mirror, I used to see the talented Yo-Yo Ma smiling next to his prized cello or Gary Locke, the 21st governor of Washington who is now the Secretary of Commerce, among others (Interesting side-note: It has now been replaced by the title of the highly controversial book on the superiority of Chinese parenting, The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother). That is her American dream— it is not the white picket fence that many of us have tied to this clichéd notion— it is for her children, the fruits of her tireless labor, to become accomplished, extraordinary, and perhaps, even famous and remembered. All Chinese immigrants have their very own American dream. Just ask any one of them and you will find that their responses are never quite the same.
Before going to the museum, I remembered my father’s own story of immigration to the United States. Unlike the many Fujianese immigrants studied by Kenneth Guest in his book, God in Chinatown, my father, the eldest among nine siblings, has a very different story to tell. Over thirty years ago, my father and his siblings arrived in New York City with the help of their father, who provided all of them with all the right immigration papers. In God in Chinatown, however, many Fujianese immigrants came here illegally as a means to survive, often using religious institutions based in Chinatown as their cover, with little opportunities left in their small rural hometowns. My great-grandfather was also a war veteran of World War II, which meant that immigration for his family into the United States was infinitely easier. Today, my family has established a modest Chinese takeout restaurant in Elmhurst, Queens.
So I’m curious…What are your families’ stories?