My parents told us they loved us
My father and I used to argue a lot.
My 20s and 30s were particularly acrimonious and again when he died, just because I loved him so and yet we were at odds over so many things.
I also wasn’t exactly right in the head back then, but I’m guessing you knew that.
Both my parents were stereotypical Tiger Parents in that we never played sports – ever – and instead spent every single summer and afternoon studying; we studied for school, for the SSHATs, then the SATs, AP classes, whathaveyou.
In one particularly bad argument, I accused my dad of stealing our childhoods.
Me: That was crazy that all we did was study.
Him: When you have three kids that made it into Stuyvesant and an ivy league, then you can tell me that I did something wrong.
Having a kid of my own, I realize how impressive what he did was. After all, he came here not speaking the language, with almost no money, and – within a generation – had three ivy league-educated Stuyvesant grads.
That would be an accomplishment for everyone.
But in two distinct ways, he was radically different from most Chinese fathers.
The first was when he dropped me off at Cornell and both he and my mom told me they loved me and were proud of me.
After they left, my Chinese roommate came up to me.
Him: Were your parents born here?
Me: (laughing) What? No, they’re both from Taiwan.
Him: I’ve never heard of any Chinese parents that told their kids they loved them. (thinking) My parents have never told me that. (pause) They’ve never told me they were proud of me.
Didn’t know what to say.
If anything, my parents would go out of their way to scream that they loved me on the top of their lungs when they dropped us off someplace just to embarrass us.
This is such a stereotype that this Asian comedian has a whole bit on the subject:
But that wasn’t my experience at all.
I’ll tell you the second thing that made him very different – at least to me – on Monday.
Location: my basement, being told that the building’s electrical wiring all needs to be pulled out
Mood: nostalgic
Music: Can’t go back to the place I’ve been. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I been away too long (Spotify)
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One reply on “Tigers with different stripes, Pt 1”
[…] The other thing bout my dad/family I also learned in Cornell: When I took my first Chinese language class, the teacher asked how to say “maternal grandmother” in Chinese. […]