(no subject)
So I met a little girl yesterday that both amused and saddened me. I forgot about it until now, as I was reading more about AmazonFail, which is not really related at all to the following story.
This little girl approached me really randomly, as I stood outside the door to the choir balcony in the back of the church. She literally just popped out and stood looking up at me from about waist height. Then she asked me a question in Vietnamese that, as I continued to stare blankly at her, got translated into English as, "Brothers?" From there came an endless stream of talk as children are wont to hurl on you, starting with asking if I had siblings to pointing out to me a garage-like sale across the street that sparked the part of the conversation that made me sad.
She asked if I wanted to buy any of the clothes over there, saying she wanted some herself, mainly the dresses. So she asked me what kind of dress I'd like to buy (note: I was not wearing anything remotely like a dress, decked out in slacks, a button-down shirt, and my jacket). I humored her and she moved onto talking about "bags," i.e. purses. She asked me if I had one (answer: no), what color bags I like/would like, then said I should get one and made the first comment that made my heart kind of sad. It went along the lines of "All girls should have bags." She added that she wanted two when she grew up (I'm sure she'll have way more than two). Gender socialization much?
Our conversation digressed into dreams. She told me about how she dreamed about being a princess and having a prince. (Me, inside: Ach.) She asked me what I dreamed about. I humored her and said, "A castle." She asked if I were a princess in this castle. Me: "Maybe. Being a princess is hard work." Her: "Is there a prince in your castle?" Me, thinking: No. But I couldn't tell her that. I impressed her by saying: "No. Maybe a king instead." That appropriately wowed her and she took a moment to digest that. I said there was a dragon in my castle too. Immediatley she asked if he was mean. I said, "No, he's my friend." That, too, threw her for a loop, as if she hadn't considered that this fairytale set up of a princess, prince, and dragon could could have different relationships between the players other than the princess being harassed by the dragon and needing rescuing. That thought made me sad.
At some point, too, she brought up Mulan and how Mulan was Chinese and . . . actually, I don't remember what she said about Mulan, I was just so sad thinking, "Man, here's this little Asian American girl, specifically Vietnamese, and she has no role models/popular cultural figures to look up to in this country except an animated Chinese character." (And that movie was released in 1998--probably before she was born!) It hit me, too, how little I knew, until recently, of the awesome female figures in Vietnamese history and folklore. Hell, there I was unable to actually understand the Vietnamese Mass--if I didn't know the Catholic Mass like the back of my hand and the familiar rhythms of the Vietnamese prayers (very chantlike), I'd've been so lost. Ethnicity fail much?
Now I just think how there was that little girl, oblivious to all these thoughts running through my head, happy to rant and rave at the whim of any thought. I wondered if I, too, were like that at her age.
This little girl approached me really randomly, as I stood outside the door to the choir balcony in the back of the church. She literally just popped out and stood looking up at me from about waist height. Then she asked me a question in Vietnamese that, as I continued to stare blankly at her, got translated into English as, "Brothers?" From there came an endless stream of talk as children are wont to hurl on you, starting with asking if I had siblings to pointing out to me a garage-like sale across the street that sparked the part of the conversation that made me sad.
She asked if I wanted to buy any of the clothes over there, saying she wanted some herself, mainly the dresses. So she asked me what kind of dress I'd like to buy (note: I was not wearing anything remotely like a dress, decked out in slacks, a button-down shirt, and my jacket). I humored her and she moved onto talking about "bags," i.e. purses. She asked me if I had one (answer: no), what color bags I like/would like, then said I should get one and made the first comment that made my heart kind of sad. It went along the lines of "All girls should have bags." She added that she wanted two when she grew up (I'm sure she'll have way more than two). Gender socialization much?
Our conversation digressed into dreams. She told me about how she dreamed about being a princess and having a prince. (Me, inside: Ach.) She asked me what I dreamed about. I humored her and said, "A castle." She asked if I were a princess in this castle. Me: "Maybe. Being a princess is hard work." Her: "Is there a prince in your castle?" Me, thinking: No. But I couldn't tell her that. I impressed her by saying: "No. Maybe a king instead." That appropriately wowed her and she took a moment to digest that. I said there was a dragon in my castle too. Immediatley she asked if he was mean. I said, "No, he's my friend." That, too, threw her for a loop, as if she hadn't considered that this fairytale set up of a princess, prince, and dragon could could have different relationships between the players other than the princess being harassed by the dragon and needing rescuing. That thought made me sad.
At some point, too, she brought up Mulan and how Mulan was Chinese and . . . actually, I don't remember what she said about Mulan, I was just so sad thinking, "Man, here's this little Asian American girl, specifically Vietnamese, and she has no role models/popular cultural figures to look up to in this country except an animated Chinese character." (And that movie was released in 1998--probably before she was born!) It hit me, too, how little I knew, until recently, of the awesome female figures in Vietnamese history and folklore. Hell, there I was unable to actually understand the Vietnamese Mass--if I didn't know the Catholic Mass like the back of my hand and the familiar rhythms of the Vietnamese prayers (very chantlike), I'd've been so lost. Ethnicity fail much?
Now I just think how there was that little girl, oblivious to all these thoughts running through my head, happy to rant and rave at the whim of any thought. I wondered if I, too, were like that at her age.