Who am I? I’d like to say that I’m a mature, independent, altruistic adult unabashed of my Asian heritage. But when I share a friendly glance and smile with a neighbor who quickly averts her gazes, is it wrong to become insecure? And when I spend time with people of various ethnicities other than mine, is it incorrect to succumb to their stereotypes of my varied ethnic makeup—Japanese, Chinese, Native Hawaiian—in order to fit in? How can I proudly participate in cultural activities in the safety of my home while feeling dismayed and somewhat shameful of my slanted eyes, round face, yellow-hued skin, and short stature in the public sphere? Does that make me a hypocrite? Can I have two identities simultaneously?
Many scholars assert their astute opinion as to the process in which an Asian individual develops their bicultural identity: the ability to draw values from or associate with an ethnic population to constitute one’s identity. Regardless of their stance on this circumstance, the experts conclude that one’s family and its ethnic values influence her identity. A discussion of their argument shows three familial nurturing modes that a budding youth falls into at the end of their development. The first model assumes that an individual in search of her core of beliefs becomes acerbically overwhelmed of her stringent, band-aid like family and their conservative values that she escapes her prison and never returns. That individual seems incapable of possessing a bicultural identity. Since she cannot manage to meld her two worlds together, she succumbs to the most appealing one. On the other hand, there exists nurturing, understanding, fresh-baked apple pie families that rear their children through humble example rather than through stark discipline; those adolescents understand their role and significance in their family. Those families have allotted their children the autonomy to explore the diversity around them but, by example, revealed the importance of their ethnic heritage. That type of rearing enables the “rearees” the freedom to identify with both worlds—two separate, exotic spheres. Finally, the conciliation of the previous models asserts that a young adult can leave her family in frustration to the alluring surprises of American society but become disenchanted when she realizes that she remains unfulfilled. She then rapidly retreats home much like the Prodigal Son: who returns home into the warm, familiar embrace of his father. Those disenchanted individuals—after realizing the pros of the opposing worlds—boil down their accrued values into one swirling, melting pot identity. However, can all young adults stringently fall into one model like coins sorted into moneybags? Is it possible for a young adult to challenge any neat fit within a certain mode of acculturation by dabbling in an assortment of rearing models much like how an assortment of coins of various values can constitute the same one-dollar bill?
The author Mei Ng in her semi-autobiographical novel Eating Chinese Food Naked paints an interpretive masterpiece of the archetypal story of the Chinese immigrant youth’s ‘coming-of-age’ experience—of children rebelling from the overbearing familial unit in favor of independence only to realize how profoundly their Chinese values constitute their identity. The protagonist’s family emigrates from the “Middle Nation” to the poor, immigrant-ridden Chinatown in New York City where they open a Laundromat and raise three children. Franklin and Bell try to raise their children—Van, Ruby, and Lily—according to Chinese familial values in the fact of American pop culture. While Ruby initially embodies this Prodigal Son model, her brother Van personifies the opposite by hastily running away from his family without one final remark or afterthought. Eating Chinese Food Naked portrays the rainbow-like spectrum of responses to this stringent structure of Chinese value development suggesting that immigrant children can epitomize overarching bridges connecting Chinese and American society. Ruby’s struggle to formulate her identity when barraged with the seductive American culture opens her eyes to the three models of acculturation and receptive to her familial values. Mei Ng focuses on the protagonist’s liberal, sex-starved promiscuity typically denied in her conservative parents’ ascetic discipline to embody the true Chinese immigrant child: one who builds bridges between two worlds.
The author Mei Ng in her semi-autobiographical novel Eating Chinese Food Naked paints an interpretive masterpiece of the archetypal story of the Chinese immigrant youth’s ‘coming-of-age’ experience—of children rebelling from the overbearing familial unit in favor of independence only to realize how profoundly their Chinese values constitute their identity. The protagonist’s family emigrates from the “Middle Nation” to the poor, immigrant-ridden Chinatown in New York City where they open a Laundromat and raise three children. Franklin and Bell try to raise their children—Van, Ruby, and Lily—according to Chinese familial values in the fact of American pop culture. While Ruby initially embodies this Prodigal Son model, her brother Van personifies the opposite by hastily running away from his family without one final remark or afterthought. Eating Chinese Food Naked portrays the rainbow-like spectrum of responses to this stringent structure of Chinese value development suggesting that immigrant children can epitomize overarching bridges connecting Chinese and American society. Ruby’s struggle to formulate her identity when barraged with the seductive American culture opens her eyes to the three models of acculturation and receptive to her familial values. Mei Ng focuses on the protagonist’s liberal, sex-starved promiscuity typically denied in her conservative parents’ ascetic discipline to embody the true Chinese immigrant child: one who builds bridges between two worlds.
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