Now-a-days I proudly announce that I am from Taiwan, a small Asian island forever seeking for its identity and seeking for independence. Perhaps that's where I got it from. In the beginning, I never thought it was a cool thing to be Asian. Many of the traditions and things associated with being Asia just wasn't my cup of tea.
Moving out at the age of 18 was a big deal in the 90s. That's exactly what I expected when I turned 18 and got myself into a university placement.
“I am moving out on Friday. A friend is going to help me with my stuff.” I said at the dinner table, determined. I figured that was one way to keep your parents from arguing with you. Don't give them a question; just give them a solid statement to work with.
“Why can't you just stay at home like all other girls? See the Wong girls? They are working full time now but they still stay at home.” Mum protests, as expected.
“What about the Johnstons then? They all live independently now”
“Oh, but they are different.”
That's so typical of Mum's arguments. Always bringing other families she knows into it, and only the ones that favour her opinions. The ones that don't are just “different”. They are different because they are not Asian and apparently that has a big impact on how kids are to be raised and how we should behave, even if we all live in the same country.
“You are not old enough sweet. You will understand when you are.”
I didn't understand, and even to this day, I still battle the question of when is exactly old enough. When I turned 18, I thought that was "old" enough. It was for all my other friends and I couldn't comprehend why it wasn't for me.
I remained silent and ate the last pork chop on the plate. I knew I wasn't coming back to live. Moving out had been on my mind for a long time, all my friends have their own apartments now, I just couldn't understand why my parents can get so upset. I often envy how my friends' families can be such great friends among each other, how they now have experienced everything about life and know how to deal with things. I wanted out. I wanted freedom.
“She thinks she is all grown up now and don't have to care for her family anymore” Said dad sourly, “she thinks she can fly away far far away, after all we've done for her.”
I hated it when they made me feel bad, ask if I was unreasonable and unappreciative. I glared angrily out the window.
“Why are you not grateful? Why do you hate us?” My mum insisted in knowing.
“I don't hate you, I just think it's time for me to be independent.” I put down my chopstick, the half eaten pork chop left cold on the plate. I wasn't hungry anymore. “Moving out just means I can have my own life, I will always come back to visit.”
“Your own life? Your life belongs to this family. Your life is our life. Until you are married, you belong to us, not to your husband or someone else!”
With this comment, they really broke me. I stood up.
“My life belongs to me!” I run up the stairs and shut myself in my bedroom, just as my father yelled after me.
“Your mother gave you your life. Don't think you can just disappear now!”
I have always been stubborn, and knowing what life can be having grown up in Australia, I refuse to believe I should sacrifice my western upbringing to suddenly devote myself to these ridiculous tradition thoughts and family practices as set by our ancestors. For a while now, I have been accused of denying my own culture.
Can I not be Asian? I pleaded silently to God.
Being Asian was just so un-cool. Besides the continuous arguments over differences in opinion and value, going out shopping with my parents were also a nightmare. As they argue loudly in Chinese down the aisles over which brand of cereal to buy, I purposely walked slower, pretending that I was out shopping by myself, following them from a couple of meters away, just in case people I knew saw me. I felt extremely embarrassed and feared that everyone will see me as just another Asian girl.
I remember pretending that I wasn't just Asian. I would lie and say that I am actually half white. I started doing things just to prove that I can be as good as the other girls. I would proudly speak my perfect English on the phone refusing to speak Chinese. To strangers, I tell them I couldn't, as if it was cooler not being able to. By doing this, I was hoping they could see that I am also white, on the inside.
Today I am still struggling with my parents. They are still struggling with my decision to live with my partner and how "improper" it must seem to their friends. However, I no longer doubt my identity, and I no longer want to be white. I am proud to be both Taiwanese and Australian, when I can take quality advice from both worlds, and casually flick the others over my shoulders.
