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Perspective: Then and Now

 - the voice of Pi

An article that I wrote back in early 1999 for my Take A Zhance can be seen as a precursor to this blog. I suggest you read it first before continuing with this current article for a more complete understanding.

At the time I wrote the article for Take A Zhance, I was obviously having some sort of identity crisis. Some traumatic event must have convinced me that I was no longer Chinese. I remember not really feeling Chinese compared to the buckets of HK and FOBs in my engineering class at Waterloo. If I was no longer Chinese, the logical conclusion at the time was that I must be Canadian. Unbeknownst to be, the answer was not so clearcut.

The first problem is with labels. What does it mean to be Chinese? Canadian? Chinese-Canadian? Canadian-Chinese? I don't know the exact answer, but I know that I'm not "pure Chinese" nor "pure Canadian". I usually refer to myself as a Chinese-Canadian. I'm not sure how it differs from being a Canadian-Chinese, but some people assure me that there is indeed a difference. As a Chinese-Canadian, it can be the best of both worlds, or the worst of both worlds. I was convinced that I had been stuck with the worst of both worlds. I had traditional Chinese parents in a Canadian society that wasn't so warm to children from different cultures. I belonged in neither world.

Fast forward a few years later. I've graduated from university and am living in Toronto while working in Mississauga. I notice a definite change in myself. I go shopping in Chinatown and use my broken Cantonese to buy vegetables or buns. But I am actively learning. I listen to them speak. I see how they act. I learn. I realize that I actually have a lot in common with these people in Chinatown. I also realize that I have a lot in common with the people I work with. I realized that I could have the best of both worlds if I tried to find it. And then somewhere along the line, I heard about Banana Boys from multiple independent sources within the span of a few weeks. I knew this was a book I had to read because the lives of the characters reflected my own so well. They attended university in Waterloo and were now living in Toronto. And they were Chinese males who lived their lives in Canada. I could have easily been one of the characters in the book. I read the whole book in two days, almost non-stop. I had found my home.

My discomfort of being called Chinese-Canadian was changed as I now say I'm a Banana. It's a much more colourful term and usually catches people's attention. Although there are still arguments about the definition of Banana, it is a much clearer description of my cultural makeup. It seems almost as if the word has permeated pop culture. Almost all of friends know what this term means.

I'm sure that I've regained more of my Chinese roots while living in Toronto, but I've also expanded my Western culture and experiences as well. I've grown and understood in the four years that have passed since Take A Zhance. Hopefully my education will never stop.

Quarter Century Angst: And the perpetrators of this affliction

 - the voice of banana_appeal

Okay, so we can't blame this affliction completely on our Asian parents. But they do provide a significant amount of pressure. They and society have a predetermined schedule that has been drilled into us to follow. So one day we'll be happily doing our own thing and it can be completely ruined by our parents calling and asking us if we have a "boyfriend/girlfriend", a "real job", "getting married" yet, "kids?".

It takes a very strong person to hold themselves up against this wave of criticism, even if it's a caring type of critiscism. Mind you this occurs with almost all parents. The difference though is that almost all Asian parents use the guilt complex that they've instilled in us. If you don't do any of these things they claim you're being a bad daughter/son. And they also add an additional layer of responsibility. Instead of just being responsible for ourselves and our lives, Asian parents tend to expect that we'll also be responsible for them as well. Of course we have to be successful so we can be their trophies and their retirement plan.

Most Western parents actually try and plan for their own retirement, maybe even leave something behind for their children. While most Asian parents expect the children to take care of their retirement. It's important that the young show respect and care for their elders, but obligation can be a heavy yoke.

I understand my parents love me, but sometimes I feel I'm expected to be nothing but a bank machine or an adult even while I'm being treated like a child. At least bank machines get some respect.

The Western solution to the problem is, "not care", but as good little asian kids, we do want to take care of our parents. We just have difficulty sometimes negotiating a workable solution because of all the emotional minefields.

It's bad enough to have our own critics and internal clocks telling us we should be here at this point, there at that point - in our careers, our lives, but to have it from our parents who aren't being supportive, it can be truly devastating. Even the strongest will, eventually bends with enough time in the pressure cooker.

And how does one resolve the "moving out" issue? Most Asian kids who want to avoid this battlefield usually just find school or work as an excuse to move away from home. And the rest? Not everyone wants to move out, and lose all the comforts of home, but it's pretty difficult to resolve the western lifestyle, that is promoted in everything from TV, movies, magazines, and books with the Asian lifestyle of living at home until you get married, and even then maybe still living with your parents.

I'm beginning to ramble, so I'll wrap up with a borrowed joke. Why is there a stereotype of the quiet Asian lover? It's because the parents are in the next room knocking on the door, asking if you want soup. [sorry if it's not that funny.] This is also why there are "love hotels" in Japan and not all hour rental rooms in HongKong are sleazy.

Measuring Up

 - the voice of Fervidus Humanus

So today, I wrote my last final exam, and I failed it. I hate people who talk about failing the course and then end up getting 70+. But as I was in the middle of bullshitting through Numerical Methods this morning, I found myself doing the infamous mark calculation: "final exam mark*0.65 = desired mark - midterm mark*0.35." Now, usually, 'desired mark' is somewhere in the 80s. This time, it was 50. My calculator revealed to me that I need a 38% on the final to pass. Normally, at this point, I would laugh or breathe a sigh of relief knowing that it could be done. But on this exam? Not necessarily. Later on, it was brought to my attention that one actually needs to pass the final to pass the course, which just put the final nail in the coffin. In a twisted sort of way, I would love to show people how my marks span 50 percentage points, from 42-92.

I started thinking about how I would tell my parents. Regardless of how it would be done, my parents would be disappointed. There's no way around it, and I wouldn't want to get around it anyways; they deserve to know the truth. But inevitably, they'll apply their 40-year old perceptions of the ideal Chinese offspring and attempt to "help me back onto the righteous path." I know they'll play the guilt card immediately (as Banana Appeal commented, Chinese parents are quick to invoke the guilt complex). But if they're in a bad mood, they might even threaten me with some sort of punishment! I'm 22 now, for heaven's sake. Aren't we beyond silly punishments? I obviously need to work on gaining their respect.

That's another issue that bananas have: respect from parents is hardly ever respect, it's usually just obedience. When will our parents learn to treat us like human beings and not like kids? Never. It's either them taking care of us or us taking care of them; there is no in between. We can't possibly be on the same maturity level. That would just be preposterous! The ideals that we learn at home disagree with the ideals that we learn from society. Our parents tell us one thing while the world tells us something else, and that is a conflict that we must face every day. While this problem occurs in many households, Chinese families tend to be especially rigid and non-conformist.

Measuring Up Some More

 - the voice of Fervidus Humanus

Some people brought up some interesting ideas in the Banana Board >> Banana Banter (please check it out) concerning my Measuring Up post. So I decided to just write another main post, since it's about parents.

I tell the truth to my parents because I am and always have been tactlessly honest. I don't feel it has anything to do with maturity. In my own way, disproving their image of me is my way of rebelling. Though failing a course is a pretty sharp penalty for my defiance. I'm 22 now, for heaven's sake, aren't I beyond juvenile acts of rebellion? I think I WOULD feel like I disappointed them. More of the parental leash at work there. If I wasn't so obedient, it wouldn't affect me as much. But since I do wish to please them a bit too much, I sometimes feel like I'm living my life for them. However, if they were to suddenly have a moment of realization and not act like I disappointed them, it would be a sizeable weight off of my shoulders, and hopefully, their shoulders as well.

Here's something I noticed about my parents: I seem to treat them better than a lot of my friends treat their parents. I actually attend their personal functions, events, or meetings, and make time to spend with them. I often integrate them into my plans instead of having them as a fallback plan (well, if my plans with my friends fall through, then I'll spend time with my folks). So why do I spend so much time with them? I think I'm obedient and would feel guilty otherwise. It occurs to me that this is not healthy for either party. Am I only doing this out of guilt, or actually because I love them? Many of my friends hardly seem to care about their parents, or probably wouldn't go to as much trouble to spend quality time with them. But who knows how tight their family actually is? Certainly not I. So even though I spend a lot of time with my parents, am I really treating them better? Who's the "better" child?

Hot Soup made some good comments and some questionable comments about the parental POV. Some of the arguments are logical, but I disagree with a couple of the assumptions upon which those arguments are based. For example, I have become increasingly critical of those who try to control the futures of others. Why would it be obvious to put pressure on them? Wouldn't it be much more obvious to show your disappointment and offer some condolences to your son, who is clearly unimpressed by his own performance already? Express your concern and your interest, but encourage him to improve, then leave it at that. As children age, they mature, and should begin to make their own decisions, especially concerning their own lives. How dare our parents claim to know what's best for us? We are individuals and deserve to shape our own lives as we see fit. Why would they see it as a failure on their part? They had nothing to do with my Numerical Methods course, and it's clearly my responsibility, not theirs. I think parents need to instill values in their children, but that is accomplished early in life. In that respect, my parents did well, for I consider myself a moral person with a good set of principles. They've done their job, now they need to let me take care of the rest. If it's a lapse in judgment, then it's my lapse, not theirs. I'd like to think if my 22-year old adult son/daughter made a mistake, it's their fault, not mine. They should know what their priorities are, and if I haven't taught them well by now, then it's a tad late. They know what their mistakes are, so why keep pushing their buttons? If they are mature enough to understand what could be improved, and I know they know, then we are both in agreement. This is a convenient, and unintentional, segue back to Hot Soup's concluding remarks about making sure both parties recognize the situation and each other's POV. More meaningful than just placating them with short apologetic answers or just trying to get the issue out and over with is mutual understanding. Hot Soup is right on the money with his last paragraph.

"Choosing who to date is like taking a multiple choice test," she said.

 - the voice of 14_of_Spades

"So that's why a lot of Chinese girls date white guys. They just aren't that familiar with them."

"Like a multiple choice test," I gasped, not hearing the follow-up remark. "How so?"

"When a Chinese girl meets a white guy, she may see behaviours that aren't positive, but since she isn't as familiar with "white" behaviours, she won't recognize them as being negative either. As such, rather than eliminate the guy outright, she may continue to give him a chance."

"The Chinese guy on the other hand, will get eliminated the first moment the girl recognizes a trait she doesn't like. Chinese girls understand Chinese guys well and thus the elimination occurs very quickly."

"White guys benefit that Chinese girls dating white guys with ambiguous traits may not know enough to recognize the ambiguous traits as being negative."

"The situation is akin to selecting a multiple choice answer, not because one knows it's the right answer, but because one isn't able to eliminate it as a wrong answer."