By Sabrina Lin (guest author)
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Sriracha: The Spice of the Asian-American Lifestyle
The new SCA-5 law that may be passed soon brings up lots of feelings of unfair and unequal treatment. The law wants to repeal Proposition 209, which states that the government cannot base admission to a public state school based off race, ethnicity, or sex. As an Asian American living in San Francisco, I often take the respect that I receive as a person, regardless of the fact that I’m Asian, for granted. But I’ve realized over the years that once you venture outside of the Asian bubbles in California, Asian people are often ridiculed or considered second-class citizens. The ridiculousness of these actions either bring me to tears or makes me want to punch all those ignorant people in the face or in the balls, depending on the gender. (Though, I’ve heard that getting kicked in the crotch regardless of gender is quite painful.) I would say that I’m pretty damn American; in fact, quite a number of my peers and friends say that I’m whitewashed. My favorite cuisine is Italian, my Chinese is quite mediocre, and my favorite subject is history, not math. (Seriously people, I hate math. My C in Precalc Honors will prove it to you.) My family and I do family hiking trips and travel the country just to walk trails, love baseball and are season ticket holders for the Giants, and relax like every other stereotypical American, through eating and watching TV. So please, next time, before you start generalizing all Asian Americans, think of me coming to you and kicking you in the balls or not-balls. But the one thing that irks me the most about Asian generalizations is one that I already hinted at, academic excellence. Holy F!@#, if another person comes up to me and says, “Hey Asian girl! Wanna help me with this math problem,” someone is going to get murdered. STOP. JUST. NO. Not all Asians are good at math y’know? In fact, here’s a news breaker, NOT ALL ASIANS ARE GOOD AT SCHOOL. Sure, you’re always going to have those really smart Asian kids who take 7 AP classes and then manage to get a 5.0. Those are the ones that you will always think of us Asian kids as, but really, think about it realistically. People often only think of the cream of the crop or the worst of us all, but no one stops to pay attention to the majority of us in the middle. Most of my friends have B’s on our transcripts. (OH NO, B’S? WHAT IS THIS? WHY HASN’T YOUR FAMILY DISINHERITED YOU YET?) My grades aren’t stellar at all, and I’m pretty sure I’m almost like the average American kid who wants to go to a decent college. But just because I’m Asian, people set my standards higher because I’m supposed to be that perfect student. The SCA-5 law will make my journey to getting to a UC even more difficult than ever just because of my ethnic background. It’s not based off my academics, personal statement, or extracurriculars. How is this fair? Why am I, just another student getting a public education in the state that often scores the lowest and has one of the lowest education budgets in the country, getting singled out because I’m “supposed” to be better and more academically driven than any other race? The entire state of California is fueling the segregation of races, trying to divide the melting pot that the United States is. Now, Amy Chua and her book about how Asians are successful and all that jazz isn’t helping my case. (No, my mother did not threaten to burn all my stuffed animals if I wasn't perfect and force me to practice the violin for hours a day.) But if you think about it, she helps me prove my following point. Asians are afraid of failure. Failure is not an acceptable option. Thinking about the famous and successful people, the Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerbergs, and the Steve Jobs, of the world, notice how they aren’t Asian? When you think of successful Americans, do you think of an Asian person? Probably not. My Asian and American instincts are pulling at me; my Asian ones tell me that failure will result in the world ending, but my American ones tell me that I will rise and do better next time, as cheesy as that sounds. And by learning more and more about myself over the years, the American approach is the better option for me. But with SCA-5 possibly going to be in play when it is my turn to submit those dreaded college applications, where can I possibly fail and learn? Must I always be another incredibly successful stereotypical Asian in the fact that I get a respectable job that pays extremely well? I’ve always known that I don’t want to just disappear into the San Francisco fog as just another well off Asian person. This may be my 16, almost 17 year old naiveté, but I want to be the risk taker, the greater fool, the person that makes an impact on the world, especially in college, where I will have the chance to experience the world in a whole different light.
By Sabrina Lin (guest author) Submit your writing here Like us on Facebook
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In light of the passing of yet another major holiday, I'm prompted to reflect on the role and meaning of family. Most people close to me pretty much understand I'm not the most expressive person or the most keen on expressing my deeper emotions. When something's really wrong, I tend not to say anything, which, for the most part, doesn't really end well. I'm working on learning to confront my problems and not allowing them to pass in silence, but my own problems have not been the only thing that has been roaring around me lately. Let's just say that Asian families often mean complicated relations, most if which contain major back-stabbing/hate. My family hasn't reached anything too extreme (which unfortunately doesn't apply to all of the Ideal Sriracha authors) but that is not to say that we are without our problems.
Here's something about Lunar New Year that makes it so special: In China (and for most chinese people around the world) Lunar New Year is a chance to go home, eat dinner with the entire family and spend some quality time with loved ones. Yup, that means loud, crazy Asian people all gathered at one place to celebrate. It's actually a really heartwarming sight to see, but like I've said, complicated family relations (and for some reason, especially those in Asian-American homes--from my observations, at least) keep this from actually happening. This past season has been particularly awkward for my family. I don't know if it has always been this way and I was just too young/blind to see or whether my family has just stopped trying to get along at all, but let's just say that Christmas dinner was a mix of silence, silverware clanking on plates and small talk that really was more like polite words to fill void rather than actual discussion of meaning. And so yea, here we are again during Lunar New Year and I can't help but feel like a douche for not having better communication skills or working harder to make my family work(?). I don't really feel like that's my job but I guess I kind of screwed up and sometimes fear of further screwing things up stop you from trying to make things right. Sure, we avoided awko-taco situations this time, but I can't help but feel like I've failed, like I've done wrong, like I've let people down with what I haven't done and said. So with a heavy heart and clouded mind, I will say good bye to this Lunar New Year and hope to the heavens that maybe, despite the lack-luster start, the year of the horse won't be all so bad. How did your new year go? Hopefully better than mine, but hey, this is just the beginning right? I have a whole year to do amazing and wonderful things. Let's not waste it fearing or thinking of useless things. Leggo! Now, before we get started, I guess I should give some background on myself and my life. I am Asian-American living near Ocean Street. My Chinese mother is from Emeryville, Ca and my father from HK. By blood, I am a European, Indonesian, Chinese American. (As if this doesn't give enough to explain the title) For most of my childhood, I have identified more with my Chinese side. However, I have always felt have in and half out of the Chinese community...and here's why.
As many San Franciscans know, there is a large Chinese population within our 49 square miles. Most of us are from Canton/Hong Kong. Likewise, Cantonese is more dominant here than Mandarin. You can here waiters shouting Canto in a dim sum house and endure a Chinese grandmother arguing on the Muni. The pre-recordings on Muni speak it. Kids speak it. Adults speak it. Every Cantonese person in this city speaks it...except for me. I'm one of the few first generation Cantonese-Americans who doesn't know how to carry a conversation in our language. Sure, I know how to order food, insult people when needed, and the difference between m goi and do jeh (both=thank you), but ask me about the weather and all you will get is a smile followed by my insecure voice in English. Ever since I walked into preschool, I have always been jealous of all my friends who can speak. I often wonder what it would be like if I did. Often, I feel left out because I can’t understand. Often a friend will start speaking in Canto to my other friends and while I miss the whole conversation even though I’m sitting with them. (The amount of jokes and gossip I haven’t understood could fill a book) And don’t get me started on the looks I get. “Oh…so you’re first generation, and your dad is from Hong Kong…and you don’t know how to speak Canto…(insert puzzled judgmental look)…well thats ok.” Yep. I’ve gotten that look from people my age to senior citizens. The look I get when I tell people I can speak Spanish is even better. (Been studying since 3rd grade) Canto has been a wall that blocks me from connecting to my Chinese side. I know it really shouldn’t but it does. There are moments where I feel like a Chn-Am expat in China, an outsider looking in at one own’s culture. Yet, getting back to my cultural confusion, there are moments where I feel like singing the Chinese national anthem at the top of my voice. For about 9 years of my life, I went to a rich, private K-8 school in Pac-Heights. While I did learn a lot at my school, I was the butt of many jokes. Like a lot of Asians, maybe not here in SF but in other cities, I endured being treated like a second class citizen. To many of my classmates, I was that Asian kid who was so Asian and for some reason didn’t act like “normal” American kids. The ironic part though…wait for it…is that it was mainly the hapa kids who made jokes about me. It always amazed me that someone could come up to me and say “You look and act so Asian…whats wrong with you?” with a face that looked more Chinese than mine. After pondering this daily occurrence, I realized that they felt ashamed to be Asian and wanted me to share their shame. While being made fun of for years was not fun, it did cultivate a lot of pride in my heritage that helped with my lack of Canto skills. This pride has stayed with me to this day. It also made me realized that while having pride in my culture was important, it was also important to have pride in my individual self. As I write this article, I’m blasting the latest K-pop songs along with a few Narcrocorridos (Mexican ballads about drugs) into my ears. I’m drinking Genmai Cha while eating ice cream with chopsticks, though very quickly before it melts. I’m texting my Latino friends in Spanish while updating my status of Facebook. I realize I’m not the most typical Chinese-American, but that’s ok. I’m happy with the way things are. San Francisco is a Meca for diversity. I like to think culturally confused kids like me at to it. by James Wen |
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