Family Communic(asian)

One of the great benefits of creating a space like Dipped in Fish Sauce is to not only share the writer's thoughts on important issues, but to welcome the readership's opinions and perspectives too. Let's make this blog a community sound board yeah? The more participation, the better!

So after hearing some feedback on my latest post, The Blame Game, I had a chance to thumb over some thoughts about family communication, and I guess in this case, family communic(asian). Basically...how Asian families communicate.

When I referenced communication in Asian families to be insensitive, closed off, and full of saving-face pride... I was being sarcastic. And unlike very many people who have possibly internalized the way they were raised to communicate (which is totally okay!), I am actually very proud of how my family, especially my war-inflicted-refugee parents, express their love to me.

When I think about how my parents communicate with me, I try to consider a whole host of factors including: How the war hardened their emotional vulnerabilities. How my grandparents raised them in the 40s and 50s. How much additional energy they must put into raising me after resettling in America and raising 3 other siblings already. How my American values conflicts with my Vietnamese values. And how the American educational institution challenges a Confucius influenced disciplinary routine.

As children of immigrants and refugees born in America, think about how you were raised to socialize with others... from what perspective do you criticize and question your experiences? Here's my perspective.

'I'm so upset at you, Ba Ma. Frosh-soph, junior varsity, varsity. This is my FOURTH year playing basketball and you haven't come to ONE of my games. Why can't you be like Stephanie's mom and dad? They haven't missed any games. Whatever. I'm used to it. Teacher conferences, open houses, and after school day care. I'm used to it.'

Sound familiar? Well, maybe a variation of it then?

I threw tantrums when Ba didn't buy me flashy expensive toys. I didn't care that he brought home the newest Disney movie on VHS for me every other week instead. It didn't matter that my parents missed so many basketball games because they were working their asses off dealing with corrupt HMOs while getting ripped off by insurance companies daily. I didn't care that my siblings were obligated by my parents to sacrifice their youth growing up to take care of me instead. I didn't even realize that they chose to buy moderately-priced cars instead of BMWs and Lexuses to save money for my college education. And I sure didn't appreciate how my mom managed to make home-cooked meals every single night of the week despite coming home far past the 9am-5pm work day. These subtle sacrifices, comprises, and expressions of love... they never occurred to me.

Why? Because my Vietnamese parents didn't express their love to me similar to the way I saw White parents treat their children on TV, in books, and in my own white-suburban neighborhood where stay-at-home-moms flocked local schools at 2:30pm to pick up their kids (while I walked home from the bus stop)... I just couldn't believe that they cared about me growing up.

But I was wrong. So so wrong. And pretty selfish, self-centered too.

My perception and definition of what family love and communication should be like was blinded by an un-contextualized sense of resentment created by my immersion in American culture and societal norms.

Now when I define healthy communication, I define it from a set of experiences untainted by the dominating influence of my American values.

Insensitive, closed off, and full of save-face pride? Nope, just the opposite for 'Asian' families. But only if you look beyond the surface of their actions will you find real, deeply rooted intentions. Intentions that are clouded by ideals imposed on our "place" in this society, but full of love and care for you.