Asian-American Pie (probably has chicken feet in it)
"Don't be a disgrace to the race."I get this warm fuzzy feeling every time I listen to NPR on San Francisco's public radio station, KQED. Because for an hour, I feel like I could be a part of the Midwest, farming grain while my neighbors farm soybeans. Then we'd have a laugh because I'd point that out and remarked at "how things have changed." Or maybe I could be in Mississippi, jamming with a zydeco band, because I really like zydeco.
In short: Garrison Keillor makes me feel American.
There's a reason why the University of Minnesota has a huge Asian American Studies program. There's a reason why most everyone believes Asian cultures and women are exotic. And there's an even bigger reason behind the high incidence of suicide in Asian American women. The fact of the matter is that Asian culture is different, way different. And Asian-American culture trumps that to the fifth degree. And there's no YouTube video, no college professor, no indie filmmaker that can come close to describing just what the deal is. Nobody, that is, until I came along. (hehe..man, I wish)
Today, I went to a dim sum restaurant in Oakland with my family. My family includes my parents, my grandparents, my three uncles, their wives and sons, my grandfather's brother and his wife, and their son and daughter who just arrived from Hong Kong last week. Late in the brunch, my grandma (like a total G) manages to steal the check from my grandfather's brother. As he fights back, my grandmother unleashes the fiercest frown I've ever seen from her in my entire life. Scorn this concentrated is used to pacify hostage situations. Scorn this intense can be focused into laser beams and used to power the Death Star. White people in the opposite table ducked their heads and ate nervously as light bulbs blew out overhead. I couldn't tell who ended up paying the check as my blast shield had obscured my view. I was pretty surprised myself at the thing. But where did this strange dance come from? This ritual has confused many an American, myself included. To that, I say, roll with the punches.
My point is...there are some things even I don't understand, because that's not my culture. My grandmother's culture is different than my Mom's culture is different than my own, and will likely be different than the next generation's. Because we're slowly but surely becoming part of this country. We're quickly becoming the farmers in Minnesota, the music stars crooning in English, the aides to the President. Our culture is the real melting pot. Our tie to our ancestry is one of obligation and rote action. But for us, the second generation, it's still second nature. We experience that exotic culture as Americans and pull it into our own melting pot. We're truly what you'd lightly call "Asian-American".
So America you're really cool and all. And I'm still gonna groove to zydeco as my Mom wonders what the hell I'm listening to. (Kids these days and their music.) But don't get me wrong when I say I wanna go back to China. There's something about the culture that's almost undeniable. Even I am drawn to that lure of good food and beautiful Chinese girls. Even my Mom thinks they're hot. ...My words. Not hers.
(The article on suicide in Asian-American women is originally from the ladies of DISGRASIAN.com, my favorite source of Asian-American commentary and lulz.)