Seeking out culture

The unfortunate part of being a child of immigrants is that you can’t wait for culture to arrive. You have to seek it out. 

There are a few relatable memes out there about West Coast Asians vs East Coast vs Midwest (though the Midwest is often forgotten in these comparisons). One said that the difference is that the Midwest ones have social anxiety (lol, too true), and another said that if you are now a confident person, it was homegrown, in the corn fields, because it certainly was not available around you. If you grew up being the only or one of a few Asians in your class, there’s a certain protective layer you had to create and wear. You probably also had internalized racism and rejected your culture. 

But the West Coast? There are so many boba shops, loads of dragon and lion dancers, a recognition of the new year from outside the cultural community, immersion schools—every time I think I have seen it all, I see more and am astounded. I bought shrimp chips at my local Walgreens! I can’t tell you how many Chinese grocery stores there are by me, because there are that many! In the last two weeks, I’ve walked by and recognized the smell of incense that you use at temples (these were used at the shrines inside private homes). If you grew up in this kind of culturally supportive environment, I can only imagine the confidence and growth you must’ve had. 

Kind of like how some Christians are Christmas and Easter only (I guess called “Chreasters” or “CEOs”??), my parents celebrated the most important cultural holidays: the new year and the Mid-Autumn Festival. We also recognized Father’s Day and the Dragon Boat Festival but no one was racing dragon boats in a Midwest suburb. A quick google has me finding that, of course, there’s a whole association in California and regional groups/festivals. 

My holiday traditions and cultural superstitions are pieced together, like puzzle pieces, except I don’t know what the puzzle is supposed to look like, and it’s locked in to the year my parents immigrated. 

As I grow older, I find I have to really push myself to do the celebratory things, but it’s a lot of energy, and I don’t do it all the time. I have a hotpot, but it seems excessive for two people, plus I have to go to the stores with hotpot ingredients and there are multiple hotpot restaurants by me. I can make dumplings, but it is a drag doing it by yourself and handmade dumplings are everywhere. I could make tangyuan with black sesame paste stuffing…or I could buy it from the dessert shop down the street. In some ways, it’s been easier than ever to access these traditions. Simultaneously, it’s made me conscious of how much I don’t know, which leads to shame, guilt, loneliness, and disenchanted grief. 

I also just realized I missed the Lantern Festival’s celebration of eating tangyuan on the 3rd. Whoops. Some slight shame here, but I’ve been working on this feeling and don’t have it as intensely as I used to. I can pick some up this weekend—no one is playing the cultural tradition police and telling me I’m doing it all wrong. Can you imagine if that were real, though? Someone make a comic about this, please!