Race Relations
Thu, 10 Jan 2008.
So, every Asian I meet seems to play this little game. Ok, so not so much a game as a conversational ritual. When you meet someone new: you find out about their name, how they know so-and-so, the neighbourhood they live in, job, hobbies, etc. It’s getting-to-know-you stuff. And every Asian I meet brings up the topic of exactly which part of Asia we all come from.
It’s harmless, right? Everyone I’ve met kind of shrugs it off but it bugs me no end. I know there’s nothing but good intentions behind it but I feel like I’m being stereotyped based on faulty information. I’m Chinese. My parents grew up in Vietnam and inherited a lot of the culture and food from there. I was born and raised in Australia. I’ve never had much of a Chinese streak to me. I resisted learning the language, I’ve never been to China and I felt like the ethnicity made me an outcast in my white-as-white Catholic schools.
Hui-Ai and Fay; a smoky and humid Chinese New Year in 2005.
My heritage may be Chinese but there’s no connection there and I sympathise with Australians because they had all this European heritage that was conveniently forgotten. There’s a healthy respect for their roots but they don’t huddle in little communities of ex-pats, they don’t suffer from identity crises they don’t identify as Scottish, Irish or whatever. In short, they’re second (if not third) generation immigrants and they’re a world removed from their ancestors.
Moving to Seattle and being lost in Japan has shown me the other side of the coin. In these places, I’m an Australian ex-pat and I glimpsed at the mentality; the need for the familiar and that sense of belonging. At a very basic level, I understand these feelings but I simply don’t belong in a Chinese-centric environment. I don’t like being pigeon-holed as Chinese because I think there’s more to being a certain nationality than blood alone. I feel like a fraud amongst genuine Chinese ex-pats trying to re-create their own little slice of home; a distant relative that may as well be a complete stranger.
A few years ago, we had a distant relative from London visit. He brought with him an 8-year-old son, Sebastian, and I just didn’t understand the little guy. He wanted cheese pizza, McDonald’s and Xbox and everything was in a cockney accent and god forbid any vegetables end up on his plate. It’s the same disconnect I feel now, the tables have turned and I’m the young guy with the convict accent asking for chain food when you’re offering me the traditional stuff that has nourished people for centuries.
wow what an interesting background! id rather have many different cultural influences than one just identity. you’re lucky.
I love this post and I agree with jinius - you have quite the awesome background. You should be proud of every facet of it.
Haha, I’m more confused about every aspect of it. I’ve never taken the time to quiz my parents about it all so there’s a very big cloud of ignorance there.
But I appreciate the positive comments! Thank you! :D
surreal - i have been mentally working on a post about something very similar for the past week.
is there some kind of blogging kool-aid we all drink?
i think your background is amazing. i’m such a culture/language/country/ethnicity whore. history, sociology, and languages were my studies in school - i love learning about different subcultures. i grew up in the smallest, midwestern-est white town never thinking i was “white washed” because i never had problems fitting in (which in hindsight, i find shocking). then i got to college, where there were korean groups and asian groups and southasian groups and all of a sudden, everyone began making me feel very self-conscious about my identity. i didn’t like that at all. then a lot of asian kids began saying i thought i was too good for them and their groups. which stung like hell. i speak my parents’ native tongue - i love the food - i love the culture. but all of a sudden, it seemed like my race was the only thing worth identifying me.
look at what i’m doing. i’m writing my post on your comments board. eesh. sorry.
brilliant post, jack.
Damsel, totally agree. I didn’t realise how “white-washed” I was until I got to Seattle. My Asian friends in Australia were as equally assimilated as I was and we got along just fine.
I can’t wait to see your (complete) thoughts on this!
Really insightful post Jack.
I also feel weird when people ask about my heritage. I certainly don’t consider myself ‘English’.
As someone who is as mixed as they get, I still can’t figure out where I fit in either. When I was in school I didn’t quite fit in with either the whites or the asians.
I have this gut feeling that I will really find myself if I visit Scotland. I feel like things will become clear there. I’ve always had this little voice telling me to go and learn about my ancestry.
I miss it and I’ve never even been there.
nods along I see the same to a lesser extent in London with my Indian heritage. It’s interesting though, because I know I could identify with the Indians should I choose to - I see plenty of Aussie-born-and-bred Indians doing it back home - but I don’t, and some view that as a ‘betrayal of heritage’, that I don’t actively try ‘to be Indian’. You ever get that accusation?