Posts Tagged ‘childhood’

Family life

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , , , , , , , ,
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At times I wish I had more family living near me, or a greater extended family sprawled around the world.  I have always dreamt of having an older brother to rely on (or a gay best friend).  Since I tend to connect a lot better with guys, I have always wanted to have one who was very, very close to me in a platonic way.  Unfortunately, though such figures have come and gone, I can’t really claim one guy who I can run to when I am hurt or scared or just have a great secret to share.  More than that though, I wish that my cousins and I were closer.  When I was young, I would always follow them around so closely that they nicknamed me their shadow.  It was true enough, since I only got to see them once a year for a few weeks and that was my only tie to my background.

I have lived my life very much alone, or in a tiny family unit consisting of me and my parents.  I always love to have people over to my house simply because nobody ever visits!  It’s always just me, my mom, my dad, and for some years, my cats.  There are no random second cousins or great aunts, twice removed who can swingby to say hi.  In fact, there isn’t a single other person in our family in the country, from either side of the family.  So, other than the summers that I got to go back to China in my childhood, I’ve hardly ever seen my relatives.  Lately, I have also spent a lot of my time on my own, first as I went off to college, then as my dad moved back to China, then as I studied abroad in England, then as my mom moved back to China as well, and finally as I moved out to Singapore to work.

Granted, I am not alone alone.  Yet, I have had nobody I can call family in the same country as me for the past two and a half years, but for the few months my mom came to visit, the couple of weeks my dad has spent back, and the lucky few days that some of my aunts and uncles got to come watch me graduate from UCLA.  Family, after all, are the only people who are linked to you from day 1.  And in my life, they are the only ones who have always been there, even if it was largely in the background and rather out of reach.  But year after year, they are there, growing in their own ways, and eventually we will catch up again.  For me, friendship has not worked out quite that way, since each move brought another group of people to leave behind.  I can never claim a best friend from my childhood who watched me grow up.  The only people who truly watched me grow up were my parents.

I have certainly been blessed with a lot of wonderful people in my life, but once again I find that they come and go.  I’m so used to people leaving my life and becoming a great memory that I didn’t even notice I do that, until a close friend pointed it out.  Perhaps I got too conditioned to having to leave people behind with every move we made over the years.  I don’t have the mindset that makes me think of someone, pick up the phone and call them, or drop them an e-mail to catch up.  Instead, I just wonder whatever happened to them and how they are doing.  I am always grateful when I do hear from a long-lost friend and get to see how they are doing in their lives.  I love that we are becoming a more globally connected world now and facebook was the first social media tool that allowed me to get in touch with friends from lives past.  I also love that you don’t need to be maintaining a conversation with each other to keep tabs on and be able to find each other years down the line.

I like to dream about a handful of aunts and uncles and dozens of cousins bustling around during Chinese New Year, as the whole family makes time to be together.  Sadly, I’ve only been in China once during that time of year since I left (which was when I was too young to remember anything anyway) and I don’t recall a thing about it.  My dad has told me that to truly experience Chinese festivities, I need to spend Chinese New Year back in his hometown, the little place that he grew up in.  Now that truly has small town flair in its celebrations, with all the stops pulled!  Maybe if I have time next year, I can make it come true, in the second Year of the Ox that I will experience since the one I was born in.  2010 will be an important year for me because I will have gone through two full Chinese zodiac cycles.  I’m sure that has some sort of significance.

Someday, I’d like to be able to gather with all my relatives (or at least one representative from each family unit).  But over the years, even our not-so-big family has had trouble reuniting as my cousins married off and started to create their own little families.  Between work, children, spouses, and friends, it’s hard to find time to get together like we used to when everyone lived in the same town and the only ones missing were me and my parents.  Now I’m embarking on my own life as well, sacrificing time with loved ones in hopesof building a strong foundation for a successful future.  Work is hardly as flexible as tertiary education was, with more hours and less ease of changing schedules.  Plus, there’s a lot less time off per annum.  On the other hand, I am very fortunate to be working for a company that would, like no other, work with me to try to make it happen, if I so chose.  One of the things I will miss most about education is the lovely summer months filled with enrichment learning, extracurricular fun, and personal fulfillment.

Despite all this daydreaming about a huge family, I still don’t want more than two or three kids, if only because I don’t know if I can handle any more.  Growing up so independent and with all the attention focused on me makes it difficult for me to conceive how it would be with a handful of children running amok.  The grass is always greener on the other side, isn’t it?  And that is why I wish I had a companion to grow up with, whether sibling, cousin living nearby, or best friend from childhood.  But, because I know there is this tendency to think that the other way is so much better, I do recognize the benefits of only childhood.  Thus, I don’t want to overcompensate by having so many kids I don’t know what to do with myself.  Instead, to create that feel, I’d like to live in a neighborhood where everyone knows each other and the kids can play together.  This would also be a great way to expose them to how others live their lives, especially if it’s a multicultural communit

Doctor Qin, Professor Qin

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , , ,
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This summer when I was spending time with my parents in Beijing, I got a chance to drop by their office and see where they work (and who they work with).  While I was there, it was the strangest feeling to see my dad’s fancy pants office, with mahogany furnishings and all kinds of cool decorations.  It reminded me of one time when I went to see him at his last US office (in LA county), where he had a secretary to liaise with.  People had to go through her to get to him and that, to me, was so odd.  After all, I’ve always had full access to him!  What was all the more strange this time though, was hearing him being called and referred to as "Dr. Qin" – umm, what?

I don’t often see my dad operating in his element, working hard at what he does best, so I’ve been rather sheltered from the professional side of his life.  He gets a lot of respect in the office and seeing that really reminded me that my dad is a valuable resource at my fingertips.  He has a lot of work experience, especially in mangerial and executive level work, plus he’s always willing to advise me for anything I need, me being his only child and all.  I often lose sight of that, which I shouldn’t, since there is so much wisdom he has to share.

I think it’s funny that my parents named me Qin Bo (??), where the ? (bo) part, which is my given name, represents the ? in professor.  The complete term is actually ?? (bo shi) and ??? (Qin bo shi) translates to Doctor or Professor Qin (aka someone who has earned a doctorate degree).  In actuality, ? by itself means "rich, abundant, plentiful, win, or gain" so that works out to be a good meaning too.  My parents had decided to name me this because professors are one of the most highly regarded and respected positions in China.  Thus, in naming me this, they wanted me to become a successful, smart, and respected figure later in life.

So, when people call my dad Qin bo shi, it’s a bit awkward for me not only because it’s odd for me to see people so formal with my dad, but also because my name is nestled in there and at first you can’t tell who they’re going to call.  All my life I’ve grown up wanting a docorate degree if only to be able to call myself Qin bo shi as well.  I’m already halfway there with the "bo" part, so now all I need is years of hard work to get myself a "shi" part as well!  😛  Unfortunately, the path that I’m taking and the subjects I’m interested in don’t lend themselves to needing a doctorate, so it doesn’t look like I will be going in that direction.

In fact, I may go get my MBA more as a rite of passage than for any real purposes.  I’m sure there’s still plenty to be learned, but in terms of the extra mileage I could get from business school versus what I learn every day at the office, it may not be worth it.  Instead, I’m still aiming for business school because I want to prove to myself that I can do it.  I can also use it as another way of networking and truly finding like-minded people who are every bit as amibitious as me.  And who knows, maybe a few years down the line I will want to try a different line of business and it will be useful for my transition.

Bothersome bugs?

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , , ,
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Why do people have this aversion to bugs (and amphibians and reptiles)?  Generally they are not going to hurt you and if you just let them be, they will not bother you too.  Yet, it seems that a dislike for these creatures is widespread, from girls who squeal and hide to guys who rush off in a different direction.  Reactions and distaste can range from just avoiding them as much as possible to chasing after them in an attempt to kill them.  But for me, it’s a completely different story.

I know that my own fascination for them stems from my upbringing in the plains of Kansas and interactions with a lot of boys.  When you grow up without being taught to fear or even dislike those critters, but rather play with them and use them as your personal scientific discoveries, it’s hard to want to run from them or kill them.  I remember days on the playground spent thinking of the best ways to catch the grasshoppers that would jump so far, the butterflies that flitted around so high, the praying mantises that would blend into the grass, the spiders that would scuttle so quickly, or the worms that would squirm away into the ground.  I was always so interesting to see all that they could do, from jumping long distances to flying great heights to doing crazy disappearing acts.

Sometimes in my explorations I would accidentally kill the creatures, but eventually I learned how to take care of them and keep them alive.  I even developed a theory that praying mantises will go blind in captivity after one that I was playing with at home developed black eyes that were blind.  I learned how to test he it was blind by slowly moving my finger or a blade of grass towards him.  When he didn’t react as he had done previously, I was quite certain he could not see.  Saddened by this, I took him outside and let him back into the grass, following him around as he moved slowly along the ground.  I don’t know how long this lasted, but at some point, his eyes became clear again!  Then when I tried to get too close, he then scrambled off, probably cursing me in his head, if he’s capable of that.  Look at how educational it can be!

However, there are some bugs that I don’t like either, mostly mosquitoes.  I find them interesting nonetheless, but ultimately annoying with their buzzing and affinity for my blood.  I get a morbid sense of pleasure when I hear them zap in those blue light things that you turn on at night to kill them off.  Yet even with that, I can’t help but be curious about why they make that sound, why they are attracted to the light so much, if it hurts, etc.  Learning about other forms of life make you question all kinds of things about life!  It can be an educational experience if you question all the whys and hows.

These experiences and preferences can work for me in a good or bad sense.  Good in that I am not afraid of them, so I can come in quite useful in getting them out of a room or away from an area, but bad in that I usually don’t want to and can’t kill them, much to my friends’ dismay.  Don’t you find it fascinating that this thing can fly?  Or make silk strands so strong they are virtually indestructible?  Or climb walls or hang around upside down?  Personally, this intrigues me beyond normal curiosity and it gives me a great deal of respect for them.  I think they’re rather cool.

Why look for aliens when you’ve got so many strange life forms in your backyard?

Motherly affection and devotion

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , ,
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You know when your mother loves you when she is willing to fly to a country she has never been to to live with you to help you with your language skills.  o.O  And you know she really sacrifices for you when she’s willing to make time outside of a full-time job to help you translate things.  Sometimes, it still amazes me how much my mom has and would give up for me.

It all started pretty much from birth.  My dad had to leave for the US 6 months before I was born, so she bore the pregnancy herself.  Then, 6 months after that, she had to leave to join my father in Pennsylvania.  She and my father had to work as Research Assistants (and my dad was also a Teaching Assistant) to save up the money to bring me over three years later and support us from there.

From then on, she supported my dad in every move we made, from PA to Kansas to Missouri to New York to California to China again.  Sometime in Kansas she decided that to provide the sort of flexibility in mobility that we would need, she would stop working and be a stay at home mom.  That meant that growing up, I was rather spoiled with the ease of having my forgotten homework delivered to me during the day, being driven to all kinds of activities (mostly sports meets), and having my mother on call for all of my wants and needs.

Starting the day she started staying home, other than the years she went back to China working on a business she started with my dad, I never had to go home to an empty house.  She’d wake up at 4 in the morning to drive me to swim practice, she’d sit around waiting in the car for me every day after school that I had to stay late (back before we had cell phones), she’d trek out to school in the middle of the day to drop off something I needed, and she even came back from China to live with me after I graduated UCLA to keep me company until I started working.

Throughout those years, she has also spent her time managing our finances, making sure we were saving up and investing wisely, laboring over the pains of day trading (thank goodness she gave that up), anticipating my dad and my own needs, finding a balance between giving me what I wanted and what I needed, always supporting my dad with what he needed, cooking, cleaning, and tirelessly devoting herself to being a great mother and an amazing woman.  She did so much behind the scenes that I may never know about, but one of the things I learned a few years ago was that she always carefully planned trips to either be the whole family traveling together, or she and my dad splitting up.  That way, it decreased the odds of both of them getting killed in an accident, leaving me an orphan.

Beyond that, she had great potential to be a highly successful engineer (and potentially, manager) in her own right, but she gave that up to be the cornerstone to her husband and daughter’s success.  Even now she is extraordinarily gifted in that area and could be a great engineer for an aerospace company (which is her dream), but being out of the work force for so long has hindered her aspirations.  She has never complained about what she has given up for us and happily shifted her life to fit our needs.

Now we are all in different countries, though she is based in Beijing with my dad, and she is willing to come to Singapore to stay with me!  I was explaining to her how it seems that people here seem to assume that I know so much of the background for Chinese language and culture just because I have a very standard accent and sound quite like a native, but I essentially grew up American, so much of that knowledge is lost on me.  I am concerned about my reading and writing skills in Mandarin that I may need to use for an upcoming project, so she suggested she come so she can be here with me and help me.  Of course, she’s still got her own work to do, so that would be a lot of time out of her day to help me improve my Chinese.

To her it may seem like a small gesture, but to me it really speaks volumes for her deep commitment to me, my future, and my success.  It really meant a lot to me.  I’m learning to appreciate her more and more.  A few years ago, I probably would have thought it was normal and nothing special.  That’s just how much she has conditioned me to her support.  So I hope she doesn’t feel under appreciated, because she isn’t.

Packrat tendencies

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , , , ,
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I have a habit of collecting things and never throwing them out.  I just can’t bear to.  This has been a problem since my youth, when I couldn’t even throw away homework that I wrote.  I blame it on my intense sentimentality.  Everything is a memory to me, good, bad, or otherwise.  Well how do you throw that away?  However, though I do love to keep things around, I would like to cut back on the superfluous things I have lying around the house.  After all, who needs clutter?  So whenever I move or pack, I try to clear out some of my stuff in an effort to stop the growing piles of boxes.

I am finally getting to the point in my life where I have outgrown some of my clothes, yet I still haven’t put them all together to donate.  Some are just a tad bit small now, but mostly they are just not a style that someone my age would wear.  Despite the fact that I will never need them again, they sit in my closet, reminders of my high school days.  Perhaps one day I will start an electronic photo album database with pictures of all the items that I’ve owned, so even when I get rid of something, I’ll have it stored away in a memory bank of sorts.  At the same time, I recognize that once that stuff is gone I will hardly ever think of it again.

This goes for a lot of things I own.  My mom is always doing some spring cleaning in my room, rummaging through my things and throwing them out as she sees fit.  Many of these items I don’t miss for a long time, which should indicate just how much I don’t need them.  Yet, it doesn’t make it any easier for me to let go, since the moment I do remember, I feel a great loss.  Why do I have such an attachment to my personal items?  Maybe it’s because my memory is not as good as I would like, or that I fear losing it too soon.

Right now it’s been hard to not pack certain things, since I can almost always convince myself that there will be that one circumstance in which I would need to use that item.  I had to constantly remind myself that I really won’t be needing a dozen jackets in Singapore, seeing as my research into their weather patterns has shown very consistent results: hot, humid, non-jacket conditions.  It’s a pity, since I have suddenly been rediscovering jackets that I have not worn in ages and would love to!  Alas, I will just have to console myself with the thought that I can make up for that when I get back.

I even had trouble deciding what office supplies to bring – how many highlighters?  What color pens?  How about pencils?  Erasers?  All of this is largely irrelevant, since I will likely be using a rather plain black or blue pen most of the time, which I’m sure the office is abound with.  Besides, how long does one pen last you?  Ages!  So it’s not like I’m going to be pumping through them, but nonetheless I took special care in deciding just what to throw in my suitcase and what to leave out.

So there you go, I confess my packratting habit.  It could be worse… right?

How I was molded into an independent person

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , , , , , , ,
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I just overheard my mom on the phone, booking her plane ticket to Mongolia, due to leave just about 12 hours after mine to Singapore leaves LAX.  The past couple of days she has been lamenting what to do about our mail, since many statements cannot be sent to P.O. boxes and there is no one in our family here to take care of it for us.  We used to get it forwarded to a family friend’s place, but that’s such a hassle to do for just a month or two.

Now that I’m leaving the country, my mom is left to figure out what to do with the house (and her life) again.  When I was studying abroad in England, she rented it out and moved back to China with my dad.  Should she do that again or stick around to try to pursue a career in aerospace, as she’s dreamed of doing?  Strangely enough, my life is what gives her some stability – whenever I’m around, she can stay at home and do various types of work happily.  Yet, once I leave, she needs to figure what her life is about, sans moi.

All of this made me think of the fragmented time I spent with my parents growing up and how multiple moves affected my sense of independence.  It’s no wonder I did become so independent, what with one parent or the other often away and our family hardly ever staying in one place long enough to make lasting friends.  As I grew older, it became my time to be away from home and friends on my own – to swim camps, to boot camps, to a swim competition in Australia, and the frequent visits to my relatives in China.  Another factor contributing to my independence was early on: I didn’t even meet my parents until I was three and a half (my dad left six months before I was born and my mom left six months after I was born, so I hardly remembered her).

In the early days, my parents were busy finishing up their graduate degrees at Penn State – a Master’s for my mother and a Doctorate for my father.  To support us, they had to be research assistants and my dad worked as a teaching assistant as well.  From there, it was off to Kansas, where my dad worked for the government and my mom found a random job with Payless Shoes.  I would come home to an empty house and do homework or play by myself.  I think that’s when my desire for a sibling or pet began to grow, as I spent many quiet afternoons alone in the house, waiting for my mom to get home from work.  I had one or two good friends, but mostly kept to myself.  I enjoyed playing around during recess, but I rarely mixed home life with school life.

Three years later I was sent back to China for a year to reacquaint myself with the culture and language.  It was a blissful time of no homework, no worries, since I was so far behind in all the subjects – except for English, where I was so far ahead – that I was kind of just a dead weight in class.  Nevertheless, the kids loved me because this little 3rd grader was stronger than the 6th graders, and faster than anyone in school.  I didn’t really contact my parents much during that year and when I returned to the US, I had no viable way of staying in touch with my friends from that school.

When we moved to Missouri, my dad had been working there for awhile.  He had secured a position with a company that kept him traveling as he and my mom started their own company, so my mom went back to China for two or three years to work on that.  The internet had just gone public and I was immersed in the world of HTML, making a variety of websites that I have since forgotten about.  I was also an extreme bookworm, preferring to spend time poring over novels to that of physical company.  At school, I was a social butterfly, known by everyone but not close to many.

By the time we made the move to New York, I was in the smack middle of my middle school years.  Afraid that I would get gaps in my knowledge if I took the honors track for math and science, my counselor advised me to follow the normal track and then test out of it after 8th grade.  The classes, unfortunately, were far too easy and filled with immature peers who I did not connect with.  My close set of friends didn’t have many classes with me, since they were all on the honors track.  After finishing middle school, I found that this test that my counselor talked about did not exist.  I was stuck.  Meanwhile, my mom busied herself with the stock market as my dad worked hard at his new Vice President position, often going on business trips.

During my freshman year of high school, I took a math class that was nearly a joke for me – algebra.  I aced nearly all of the tests and quizzes and got a disappointing 99 on my final.  Frustrated with the lack of challenge, my mom had me talk to my teacher to find out what I would need to know for the next level of math.  I spent that nextsummer learning geometry with my mother, meticulously practicing, learning, and writing out homework.  At the beginning of my sophomore year, we took all the paperwork to the principal and my new counselor to show them that I had mastered the material.  It was agreed that I should be allowed to learn trig at that point, however, I still had to attend geometry class.  (Apparently a New York State law that I needed to spend a certain number of hours in the classroom – utterly useless.)  So, I took two math classes simultaneously that year (along with either other classes, ensuring I never had a lunch period).  Though I finally caught up academically, socially it was a bit too late – the honors track students had already formed their cliques.  And I was not a part of them.

My dad had moved to Texas when his company moved headquarters and waited there for us to move there to join him sometime in the future.  Instead, a headhunter found him and convinced him to take a new position as VP over in a Californian company.  So, with just two weeks notice in the summer following my sophomore year, we packed up and moved across the nation.  Being that it was summer, not many people knew what had happened to me and why I left.  Once again I had been the social butterfly, knowing everyone in my grade, but hardly close to any of them.  Only my closest group of friends saw me off and the rest of the school I didn’t know well enough to call up to inform.

I started life anew in California as a junior.  With just two years of high school left and a lot of focus on college prep work, I made friends only with people in my classes, on my swim team, and in my JROTC unit.  This was the most present my parents had ever been, but I was far too busy with schoolwork, SAT prep, ROTC training, swim practice, and meets to really spend time with them.  For the last blissful weeks of high school, I lived it up driving around with my friends and enjoying life after APs and before college.

Then came UCLA, where I was so busy with being a college student that I only went home when I needed to do laundry.  When I was about to start my second year, my dad moved back to China to work and has been there ever since.  My third year of college I went abroad and by the time I returned, my mom had joined my dad in China.  I spent my fourth year and extra quarter on my own in this country before my mom came back to join me until I found a job.  Now I’ll be off to Singapore and by the time I get back, who knows how things will be.

So you see, much of my life was spent with my parents traveling around or busy at work.  I had a lot of time to myself in the afternoons when I came back from school and spent many years away from them.  Even when we are together, we all are busy with our own obligations, so I don’t just hang out with them much.  In fact, the only true bonding we get is the periodic family outings we go on – road trips my dad concocts to all kinds of places.  It’s been an int
eresting lifestyle and it just amuses me that in a week, our family will once again be split amongst three different countries.  I do love being independent and traveling a lot, but eventually I’d like to settle somewhere long-term to have as a home base.

Bilingual, bicultural

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , ,
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I am not sure how it happened, but 8Asians started to follow me on Twitter!  When I was notified of this, it got me to go back to their site to read some of their entries.  I eventually came across an article about teaching your kid Chinese, as a response to an article that the author had read about the decision to not teach your kid Chinese.  It was interesting to see the perspectives on this issue, being one who went through years of Chinese school.  Though I hated getting up on Sunday mornings to go learn, the extra homework that inevitably came with extra schooling, and the difficulty of learning the characters, it is something that I am tremendously grateful for.

So I, for one, lie on the side preferring bilingualism.  I grew up speaking Mandarin at home and English at school.  Any notion that children will get “confused” learning two languages simultaneously is absolutely absurd.  I’ve never had a problem with that, not even accidentally saying a single word in the wrong language.  Some people seem to have it in their minds that integrating two languages into learning is conflicting, but it certainly is not.  That’s the beauty of a young mind.  It can pick up on so much so effortlessly (or at least so it seems).

As I read through comments to those posts, I started to think: it’s not just about the communication aspect.  Being bilingual (or multilingual) opens the doors to be bicultural.  And to be multicultural is to understand.  That is not something that can be learned very easily either.  Though plenty of people in their adult lives can move elsewhere and adopt their new culture, a lot of the old culture still remains at odds with the new one.  It’s not easy to balance the differing views.  Growing up learning to mesh them, however, could give you a worldly view on things.

Plus, from a practical point of view, if you want to stay in touch with your family abroad and allow everyone in your family to understand each other, it’s an important skill to have.  Otherwise, you will end up having to translate (or be translated for) at family gatherings.  I have always prided myself in my Mandarin fluency – it allows me to get around as I need to when I am visiting the country and it allows me to interact with my relatives without needing my parents to translate.  Just by knowing the language, I feel so much more connected to the culture too, since so much of it has historical and cultural roots.

I think the older generations also respect you more if you know the language(s) of your heritage.  So many of them shake their heads and mutter to themselves when they hear of other children who don’t know the language or can barely get by with it.  For me, however, they are either proud that I can speak to them or holding back from their mutterings because they know I’d understand what they’re saying.  It gives you so much more freedom.

Now I can understand parents who may want to wait for their child to start learning another language (like the lady in the article mentioned above, about not teaching your kid Chinese).  For the first few years, it will be relatively easy for them to pick up on the language, so there’s no need to throw them into lessons when they’re still learning to walk.  This is especially true for people who may not be native speakers themselves, since there isn’t much they could teach the child.  However, I do think that anyone of a heritage growing up in a culture other than the one they were born to should start learning the language sometime in elementary school.

I certainly want any of my future offspring to be bilingual, if not multilingual.

Native nothing: problems with my identity

laelene Posted in general blog,Tags: , , ,
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This is a thought that comes up periodically in my life.  It’s not that I’m a nomad, but I have no true hometown to speak of.  I am not really “native” to anywhere.  Though I was born in China, I grew up in the United States.  Does that make me “native American” (as opposed to Native American)?  I don’t feel so.  Then do I feel Chinese?  Not enough, especially when I go back to visit and the very way I look and hold myself gives me away immediately.  Plus, my way of thought is greatly influenced by the American culture.

Being Chinese-American has always posed a slight problem for my identity.  I am equally both?  More one or the other?  I didn’t grow up questioning this, but it’s always tricky to answer that inevitable question: “So, where are you from?”  Where am I from originally?  Where am I from now?  Where is my parents’ home?  It’s complicated, so I usually try to answer with whatever it seems they were looking for.  But really, what am I?

I lived in China for three and a half years (split between Shenyang and Jieshou), Pennsylvania for two years, Kansas for three, back to China for one, Kansas for another one, Missouri for two and a half, New York for three and a half, California for four (split between Valencia for two years and Westwood for the other two), England for one, California for another year and a half, and now Singapore for six months.  So you tell me, which is my hometown?

Even if I were to claim American roots, where do I belong?  The East Coast?  The West Coast?  The Midwest?  I even almost moved to Texas (and would still like to for awhile).

All I know is that England and Singapore are out the running, since they were rather brief stints that didn’t occur until adulthood (not that I feel like an adult).  One was for studying abroad and now the other is for working abroad.  Since they are not permanent relocations, it’s easy to rule them out.  However, that still leaves the eight major areas I have lived in.

I don’t look American because I am Asian.  I don’t look Chinese because I have been out of the country for too long.  I don’t really fit in to either place like a native would.  I’ve stayed in places long enough to get to know the area, but not enough to leave a lasting imprint.  Most of my childhood friends would have been lost to me were it not for Facebook.  Yet, even after finding people I knew early on, things have changed so much that we don’t even know each other anymore.  Sure, they look similar to what I remember them to be, but watching them mature and go on their own paths… well, that is not something you can really predict from elementary school!

I am quite comfortable with all of this though.  I don’t mind being seen as an outsider sometimes.  I still feel at ease where I am and with who I am.  It’s just hard to explain to anyone.  I am a melting pot of East meets West, East Coast meets West Coast.  There are so many different factors that shaped my opinions, from my cultural background and upbringing to assimilating into a new culture and traveling the world to experience more.  So if you really want to know where I’m from and how I think, grab a seat, get some tea, and we’ll chat…

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