Crossing culture

Steve gave me some great advice last month, about not feeling the pressure of educating my non-Asian students, friends, and staff about indirect communication quite yet, but starting off with, "Let me tell you about Chinese New Year." I've taken this to heart and have really enjoyed throwing in snippets here and there about food, family life, traditions, etc. It's on my mind so much that I almost feel like every day I'm telling someone about something Chinese.

As I drove away from three days of being the only Asian-American at our leaders retreat, I thought: Okay, I'll do this. I'll tell you about my foods and how excited I am about Chinese New Year. I'll share related stories of my immigrant parents and what life was like overseas--even things as simple as rich, ripe mangoes; fresh watermelon juice; and noodle stands. I'll share with you how all my family is overseas (you look surprised) and conversation at my family is a hodgepodge of dialects. We'll start small with these experiences, so maybe you'll see how I am so like you, but also that being Chinese makes me different. I feel like I did this well...though part of me wonders if I am too excited, too insistent, too eager to share about my life, ethnicity, culture with others. If I am making it too much a point of who I am.

But as I get home I also realize: I am tired. A weekend with no one like me? Some of it is funny, like how not one of our students had ever seen a hot water dispenser. But then there's the gals who talk about finding out that so many InterVarsity's break things up by ethnicity, and they don't like that (not realizing that nearly all our fellowship are the same ethnicity anyway). Or there's switching gears and being super direct all weekend, partly because I can: Sure, I'll take your free shirts if I don't want them; can I bring the leftover food home?; is it okay if I don't do dishes after lunch because I have to prep? But then I realize I am tired of it, too. Tired of having to tell people what to do because they haven't volunteered. Tired of having to watch out for myself. And annoyed by having to hide how rude I think it is for you to assume you can bring my cookies to your small group...without asking. And still in disbelief that the guys at lunch were telling me that sushi restaurants don't use real raw fish...and that they were rather convinced they were right and not me, though they hadn't actually eaten sushi often. Really now.

There are so many different pieces. On minor topics, even in the food we love to eat, we can't connect quite as much because they've only had Japanese food a few times, let alone pho or Korean or Malaysian. That they haven't had tofu. On more serious notes, so many people and conversations where I jump in and invite myself to talk, and in some ways, I guess never really feeling like I can relax, be myself, and be invited into a place, conversation, or relationship.

Tired. So tired. Even without the conversations and shifting gears to fit into this, my brain alone may be tired of registering so many, "so this is how it is", of holding back comments of "not every one is like that", of mentally noting how me in my natural Asian-American self may react differently, or how a group of my Asian friends may approach a particular situation. Which is probably why in safe places with trusted staff, the intern trek (where it all started), and regional experiences...I find myself trying to absorb as much as possible, of grasping for air and space to be who we are, and finding deep gratefulness that who I am is just fine...and that it is more than okay: it is right for there to be spaces, environments, people where I can operate......the way I am.

edit. text from best friend: "God is with you and He knows what real sushi is"
From a staff comment on a scripture study on crossing cultures in Daniel 1: "Daniel is dealing with the critical tension of how to stand out and how to blend in - and the answer is not always obvious"