The other night my mom tells me that I’m too American. I’ll never make it she says. I’ll never survive. The ironic thing is that my friends think I’m so Asian. I eat rice porridge and fish for breakfast (voluntarily!) and watch tons of Asian cinema and television shows… So in a way I’m super annoyed but in another, I’m laughing inside. There is no easy middle ground for me. My mother thinks my thinking is too American, even the way I pack is too American. I almost want to point out, if she hadn’t noticed that I have been living in America for almost 28 years. How else am I suppose to be? Then again, to many Americans, I am Asian. Can’t a person be both and not have to choose one or the other?
Funny Face and I were sharing crazy Asian mom stories and sometimes we feel as if we could write our own Joy Luck Club. As much as I love my mother, the cultural and personality differences between the two of us makes it really hard for us to be in the same place for too long. Until I find a job and move out though, this will be a crazy couple of months. Wish me luck!
