My So Called (Asian) Life: Part One

My model Asian family circa 2003 

My Top Pet Peeves 

The Guessing Game

Basically, when people see me, they immediately like to figure out where my ancestors are from as if they’re cool detectives on the case of This Asian’s Origin. I’m not kidding when I say that this always happens when I meet a new person. Some will ask something along the lines of, “Where are you from?” in a tone with notes of politeness mixed with curiosity but also notes of ignorance. I really just want to say, “Would you like to clarify that question? Because otherwise, dude. I’m from here - the United States of America, same place you’re from. Seriously, I don’t ask you where you’re from because I’d guess probably somewhere in the USA and I’d probably be correct. I’m not an alien, but thanks for asking.” But I usually just say I’m Chinese and move on with my life (even though technically that’s not what I am, and that's not what their question was asking.) Other people turn it into a game, which is kind of fun if you’re friendly with the person, but when you’re not, it’s just annoying. They actually ask me “Let me guess where your ancestors are from!” Like, “OKAY!” They’ll stare at me, observe me from different directions. It makes me feel so uncomfortable. Should I make eye contact with you as you inspect me or should I look at the ceiling and pretend this is normal? I usually stare at the ceiling. Then they’ll say, “you’re Korean/Cambodian/Japanese/Thai/Chinese/[insert Asian ethnicity].” 90% of the time I get Vietnamese or Thai. What - ‘cause I’m tan? Ugh. Your case of ignorance is getting worse. All in all, the guessing game may be one of the most annoying parts about being Asian. I think only two  people out of all the people I’ve ever met in my entire life have guessed correctly - Tommy* and Josh*. In case you’re wondering, I’m half Cantonese (Dad’s side) and half Chinese (mom’s side), although ethnically I’m Taiwanese.

* Names were not changed for the purpose of this story.

They should be proud they guessed right.  

That All Asians Look the Same

Fun fact: we don’t.

So, just like any other race in the world, people within the Asian race actually look different than each other. Some have tall noses, others have small noses. Some are fat, some are skinny. Some are tan, some are pale. (we’re not yellow). Some have big eyes, and others have small eyes, which I’d just like to comment on: next time you want to portray an Asian please don’t pull your eyes as if all Asians have slits. We’re not snakes. We all look different and I wouldn't dare say that two random Caucasian people look the same because you don’t, so spare me, unless of course they actually do look alike. Throughout middle school and high school, I think I had been called by the name of every Asian girl in my grade and by Asian I mean Chinese, Korean, Indian, etc. from Emily to Claire to one girls who is tall and Kashmiri and who really does not look like me. At. All. Like, really?! I really cannot understand how it’s that hard to tell the difference between Asians. Even Facebook, the know-it-all, Mother of all social networking sites cannot tell Asians apart. Facebook likes to suggest that I tag myself as my sister or the aforementioned Emily or Claire. Honestly, Mark - I’m a little offended and surprised. By all means, your wife is Asian. I've just come to accept this sad part of my life that perhaps the world is full of more ignorant people than I'd like to think.

We are related because we are all Asian and play violin.

Coming Off Racist

I promise you, I’m not. I grew up going to Chinese school and primarily listening and speaking Chinese at home. Just like it is between any two languages where some words in one are mildly or highly insulting in another, Chinese and English have these cases. And just like any other language, Chinese has filler words as well. In English these include, “like, uh, um, so, etc.” Well, there’s one particular Chinese filler word that is pretty offensive in the United States, granted when said, it’s within the context of a bunch of other Chinese words, so people should catch on. But it basically sounds like - nigga. I’m not kidding. It’s the two characters: 那 個. Pronunciation wise it sounds like, “nah guh.” Say that fast a couple times and sounds like one of the most offensive words in the English language. Awesome, right?

People Thinking I Have an Ethnic Name

So this one doesn't apply to those who actually do have an ethnic name, but with that being said, not all Asian people have some kind of the ethnically Asian name. This one time at a track invitational meet (back when I thought I could do “land” sports) I was running across the field during warm up where all the other schools were also. As I run past a group of guys from a nearby school I hear them say, “Hey Ching Chang Chong!” “No, they did not just say that,” I thought. But I assure you they did, because my friend gave me that look where you don’t know what to say but you feel really bad so you kind of just send a glance of sympathy. I was fuming to say the least, nearly about to strangle their ignorant little necks. My name is not Ching Chang Chong, nor is it any other clacking sound or noise you can make with your tongue and mouth. My name’s not Wang Plink or Song Hu. I actually have a very “white-girl” name so back off.

The Need to Aluminum Foil Everything

I not sure if this applies to all Asians or just my family, but my mom - who while hereafter go by Cath - believes that aluminum foil in the kitchen is not only a staple but a necessity. Every god damn appliance from our toaster to the wall of our stove to the trays in the oven are covered in aluminum foil. She says it’s because Asian food is more oily than American food so the foil will stop the oil from getting everywhere. But really - the radio too? If you ever get the high honour of coming to my humble abode, please ignore the god awful aluminum decor in our kitchen. I promise the rest of my house looks much less Asian and weird and distasteful.

Adding Tennis Balls To Things

In addition to aluminum foil, Asians like to attach tennis balls to the bottoms of the legs of chairs and tables. Thankfully, my house has only one table like that because it came like that. Seriously, why is that a thing?! The desks in my high school used to have them, which makes sense because it lessens the noise that desks make moving around on the floor, but I can’t understand the need for them  in a normal house setting. I don’t know, I just don’t know.

That I’m Automatically Smart

Just like I said before, there are all types of Asians in the Asian race. Therefore, not all Asians are your stereotypical “Asian nerd.” While many Asians in our beloved United States are quite intelligent, not all of us are. I’ve definitely had my bouts of stupidity that would not hold to the stereotype. When they happen, people are like, “Why do you not know that, you’re Asian.” Okay first off, thanks for pointing out I’m Asian like I didn’t know that before and two, why should I know that? You’d never say, “Why do you not know that, you’re White.” Like, what does my race have anything to do with knowing or not knowing something? Note the recurring theme: Asians are like all other people and should not be automatically treated as a strange breed of human. The only time I can think that an Asian was not the smart geeky character on television was in “Wendy Wu: Homecoming Warrior,” a Disney Channel Original Movie. If you don’t know this movie, don’t watch it, because other than Wendy Wu being the most popular girl in school, all other parts of the movie are mildly discriminatory.  That was pretty cool though, because for once an Asian was the cool girl who was in the running for homecoming queen. Oh and Harold from “Harold and Kumar.” He’s pretty chill and probably not a nerd.

Flying 7,913 Miles To See My Grandparents

(I did just Google the exact mileage from Philadelphia to Taiwan) It’s actually really sad and annoying that I can only see my grandparents every three years. I’m pretty jealous of my friends who get to hang out with their G-rents every few weeks and get giant shopping sprees and free dinners. I don’t get an all paid trip to Urban Outfitters! The cost to see mine is $1000+ just for the plane ride, let alone the costs of food and vacationing. It’s equally difficult to see how much my grandparents have aged in the three years I don’t see them every time I go back. It’s weird how someone looks the same when  you seem them every day/week/month, but give it three years and it’s actually noticeable how much someone has changed. With college and all, it’s even harder to see them and its now been four going on five years since I’ve seen my G-rents. Welp. Anyway, that’s all for the sentimental shit.

With my loverly grandmother circa 2010

Having a Connection to Every Asian

Within at least a 50 mile radius of my town, I probably have a connection with every Asian. We’re all interconnected in this web of Asians. Like, I know this Asian who went to Chinese School with this Asian who took SAT class with this Asian. At most there’s like two people separating me and another Asian. It’s weird. I don’t think the average American is so interconnected. I went to prom with this Asian kid sophomore year from another school and my friend my school was like, “Oh yeah! I know him from [I forget where].” (The story of that prom is also a great one, but a post on proms to come…) It can get annoying because some random Asian will know something about you because Asian parents talk i.e. brag and you’re like why. Why do you know that?! At least I know that wherever I am, there is an Asian to lean on.

Chinese School

12 years. Every Saturday morning, I woke up at 8 am to go to my high school from the age of 3 to attend Chinese School where I learned all things Chinese. It was absolute hell, especially when I got older and actually had to learn shit, instead of eating snacks and singing songs. Especially in high school when I had to wake up on a Saturday morning after having had five days of school, let me just go to more school for three and a half hours in the place from which I had just escaped yesterday at 2:26 pm. They tried to make it more fun by having a coupon system. Every time you did well on homework or a test or something you got a coupon, which was redeemable at the coupon station every several weeks. It was like a big day when it was coupon day. Every grade would get a time to go and when the time came we’d all run out of the room and go and redeem our coupons for random stuff like candy and slinkys that broke within the day and little erasers. It was really exciting when I was little but by the time I was in middle school/high school, it was a time of escape - literal freedom. Yeah, coupons lost their appeal quickly. To make matters worse, there were things like Chinese New Year when each class had to put on some kind of performance and you had to prepare for that or the Academic Contest when each class had some type of academic competition like reciting a Chinese soliloquy and literal judges sat in the room and judged each performance. When we were little, the competition was like who could sing this song the best and then it became who could find the most words in the Chinese Dictionary (which is hella confusing and awful.) Ugh. Chinese School. Kids kind of caught on to how awful it was and each new year brought a smaller and smaller class. Thankfully, I graduated early because I started early so I was out of there by freshman year in American high school. Fun fact: there was a valedictorian every year who got an $100 scholarship. I was valedictorian for a class of 5. *applause applause*

1. How good do I look
2. WOOHOO Chinese School graduation and diploma

Thus ends part one of My So Called (Asian) Life.

Peace out.