My mom recently returned from her first trip to China. I imagine growing up as a Chinese American in the 50's was not easy, particularly with a bitter mother, still stinging from her arranged marriage at 17 to a smart but unimpressive American-born Chinese fellow. For more years then I can remember, my mom wanted to just be American. Sure, we ate with chopsticks every now and then and had shrimp in lobster sauce on special occasions, but on most days, she tried hard not to be Chinese.
Being Chinese meant being hated - as a young girl with a traditional Chinese mother with an abusive nature. Her buck teeth and thick black hair made her stick out amidst the blonde and blue-eyed WASPs at the desks next to her. She married my dad to get away from them and their Asian-ness. They didn't speak again until I was born and even then, we only saw them on rare holiday gatherings.
I don't blame my mother for her choices. Diversity wasn't a concern until the 90s, and by that time, she had long lost her Chinese speaking abilities. Her only positive childhood memories were of her grandmother - the one who had always believed in her - the one who had always shown her what being Chinese meant.
I was always fascinated by pictures of my great-grandparents, and I loved hearing stories about my great-grandfather, one of the "fathers" of the Washington DC Chinatown and the first American born Chinese citizen in that same city. We would play cards with my great-grandmother for hours - in her little house on Georgia Ave. I only knew her as the caretaker of my great-grandfather who had suffered a stroke the year before I was born. But I loved her.
I could never understand a word she said, but I was always amazed at how my mom could. My great-grandmother would put out yesterday's dinner for breakfast, give us Chinese date candies, and let us watch the only two movies she owned - Grease and Ben Hurr. I remember her scratchy crocheted blankets and amazing gold and jade jewelry, particularly the circular necklace she always wore. It was a beautiful light green from being near her skin for so many years.
Her hands were wrinkly but soft - and her nails were always well manicured. We'd play cards for hours and hours - her muttering only quiet words like "good cards" when she'd pass me a handful of crap during our hearts games.
I never knew how much my mom loved her until she died and my mom decided to stop talking to her parents. And then I knew that my grandmother had saved my mom whenever she could. That she was the one who made being Chinese proud and honorable.
And so, as my mom returns from a trip she has dedicated to my great-grandmother, I'm so proud that she has reclaimed her heritage and not allowed it to be her downfall. That she has taken what could have been a deep and dark history and made it into something worthy of remembering. And I hope that she found what she was looking for - for herself and for her grandmother.
Perhaps they met again in the beautiful place where it all began - through the sights and sounds of a country my mom has never seen, but in a way, has known quite well. And I hope that it brings her the peace that she desires and deserves.
This is fabulous and it is awesome that your mother took this trip. I hope you are able to take one as well during your lifetime, to discover your heritage and understand your mother and your grandmother even more.
Very well scripted post. Thanks!
Posted by: Kathleen Marie | July 24, 2006 at 07:36 PM
It is so wonderful that your mother did that. I envy my husband because he is Italian through and through and he loves it. I on the other hand am a little of this, a little of that, a hint of something from here and a dash of something from over there. I envy anyone who can trace their roots so closely.
Posted by: Silly Hily | July 24, 2006 at 04:26 PM
That was a beautiful post, Kristen. I am glad too for your mom -- and for you -- that she was able to take that trip and reclaim that part of her history. And I enjoyed your lovely description of visits to your great grandmother's house -- such vivid images.
Posted by: Nancy | July 24, 2006 at 10:32 AM
Does your mom read your blog? She might enjoy reading this post. It's beautiful.
Posted by: Mary Tsao | July 24, 2006 at 01:42 AM
This was a beautiful post. Immigration is a tough issue. My mother immigrated to this country from Europe at a young age, but has had a major complex about her ethnicity ever since and that has had a huge impact on me--not always positive.
I'm glad that your mother was able to visit China and I do hope, with you, that she has found some peace through her trip.
Posted by: Mommy off the Record | July 24, 2006 at 01:33 AM
I just love when you get personal like this. It's so wonderful to see someone go from full-out assimilation at the expense of all cultural identity, to embracing his or her own past. America, what a country!
Posted by: Mom101 | July 23, 2006 at 11:25 PM
Coming to America at age 12 from Viet Nam, I know how it felt like to be discrimnated daily, so I can relate to how your Mom feels about her ethnicity. But time has changed and we're lucky to be surrounded by such diverse group of people. Thanks for such an honest post.
Posted by: Waya | July 23, 2006 at 10:12 PM
Beautiful post, Kristen. I'm always happy when you write about stuff like this, since this isn't your everyday subject matter and so when you do write about it, you're exposing your vast readership to some thoughtprovoking stuff. (Though the fact that your story automatically calls to mind Amy Tan...yikes...there's more to AsAm lit than her.)
Posted by: daddy in a strange land | July 23, 2006 at 08:20 PM
That's beautiful. It reminds me of Amy Tan's fabulous books. I hope it was a wonderful and uplifting experience for your mom.
Posted by: Izzy | July 23, 2006 at 06:01 PM
beautifully written post.. i have no other words....
Posted by: fidget | July 23, 2006 at 04:41 PM
very nice post. Very well written.
I couldn't help but think of the movie Joy Luck Club. Probably very stereotypical souding isn't it?
Posted by: Laura | July 23, 2006 at 02:24 PM
What a wonderfully written post. I can't imagine how difficult is was for your Mother growing up save for your great-grandmother. Thank you for sharing, I love reading such wonderful and honest posts.
Posted by: motherbumper | July 23, 2006 at 11:07 AM
What an amazing post, and a wonderful glimpse at your family's history.
Posted by: mamatulip | July 23, 2006 at 11:06 AM
I'm glad your mom had someone like your great grandma in her life. Change comes at all stages and in many ways....there's peace that later in your mom's own life, she's been able to make this trip. Claiming something as your own is liberating.
Posted by: Fizzle | July 23, 2006 at 10:20 AM
What a beautiful post, Kristin. It's a shame your mother did not embrace her culture earlier, but I'm glad she finally saw it for all the beauty it possesses. Wonderful.
Posted by: Karen Rani | July 23, 2006 at 09:57 AM
How wonderful that you were able to spend time with your mother and great-grandparents when you were young.
While I remember almost none of the Chinese I learned as a child, I do remember how open and accepting our Chinese family friends and the Chinese school were of our white family. My parents visited China in 1999, and someday we will visit too.
Posted by: mothergoosemouse | July 23, 2006 at 09:57 AM
Beautifully written. I can't imagine what it must have been like for your mom growing up in the time that she did. I bet this was an amazing trip for her.
Do you think you'll ever go?
Posted by: TB | July 23, 2006 at 09:51 AM
I am so sad that your Mom experienced such discrimination, Kristen.
Your great-grandmother sounds like a wonderful, strong woman. I suspect that lineage carries on in you.
Posted by: Kristin | July 23, 2006 at 09:34 AM