Ever since moving to Michigan, and especially since coming back from taiwan, sometimes I get these episodes where I get so antsy for something that's specifically Chinese that I can't focus.  I remember once I woke up in the morning really craving being able to have a conversation with someone in Chinese.  I woke up at 9.  By 10, I was so agitated, that I couldn't focus.  By 10:30 I felt like if it didn't happen, I would go crazy.  Fortunately my friend Irene was home.

The other day around 3pm I started craving Chinese food so badly that I couldn't even focus on my work.  Given that I had just eaten lunch two hours ago, I tried to stave off the craving until a more socially acceptable time to start cooking.  Furthermore, the all important debate raged in my head.  To cook or not to cook? Take out?  Making the dishes I was dreaming about would require at least an hour of time.  Take out? Can I spend the money? I'd still have to go pick it up. Maybe I should cook.  What leftovers are in the fridge right now?...

After a little bit I realized that I was actually unable to hear certain parts of the lecture that I was watching because the daydream that I was having about braised tofu was overwhelming my mind.

At 4:55, I gave up.  I couldn't see my lecture slides because this big bowl of mi fen was in the way.

By 6:15 I was sitting down to eat tofu, mi fen, cabbage, and tofu/egg drop soup.

Around 7:00 I had eaten enough to qualify me for the International Federation of Competitive Eating.

Despite the mainstream perceptions of the discipline of psychiatry, the field itself is quite orderly.  Maybe it's because our understanding of the way the brain works is so limited (esp in comparison to other parts of the human body). In an attempt to have some sort of order, the definitions for every psychiatric disorder are very specific and detailed. My initial attempts to start this entry started with the statement, “I feel like I'm going crazy.” That made we wonder. Is that really an accurate way of writing? What did I mean and did that colloquialism actually make any sense?

The psychiatric definition of an illusion is the misinterpretation of actual sensory input. Unlike hallucinations, when one perceives things that do not actually exist, illusions are reality misconstrued. Lately it feels like the part of my brain that is supposed to interpret what's going on isn't functioning properly. I feel like I'm losing touch with reality.

Psychiatrists define the term “insight” as the ability to tell how crazy oneself is. In terms of prognosis, it's generally accepted that the more insight a patient has into their condition, the greater their chance of recovery. And so, as a good medical student, in my mental checklist, I put “insight” under the list of “good things” to have. However, I've recently come to realize that while insight might be good for prognosis, it's probably one of the most distressing experiences I've ever had. In some cases, it means that you become a bystander of sorts that desperately is trying to get your mind, and thus life, back.

Patient: Jessica
Age: 25
Sex/Gender: F/F

Chief Complaint: possible illusions
History of Present Illness:
J first started to feel like she might have illusions about a year ago. She noticed that her medical school class was highly, however informally, segregated by race, not only in social groups, but also in such simple things as seating within the lecture hall. While others noticed this phenomenon not everybody interpreted it as manifestations of the same thing. J was convinced that, however unconscious, the root cause was in the worst case scenario, unconscious racism, and in the best case scenario, unconscious xenophobia. She was able to find validation of this belief among selected classmates.

As time has continued J has grown more alienated from her surroundings (not just in medical school, but also in the general community of Ann Arbor, and sometimes even to mainstream America). Her possible illusions have grown proportionately.

J believes that her opinions, when shared with her classmates, are generally perceived differently than when her white or male or straight classmates speak out. She points out examples where other folks, by her estimation, have sent out more inflammatory emails that have been better received than her own emails that have caused her to be perceived as angry and scary. She says that she has received emails from anonymous classmates telling her to take her “op-eds somewhere that cares” though she is sure that other folks who expressed their opinion on the same topic were not sent the same email. At the same time, classmates, even close friends that she trusts, seem to imply that her perceptions of this dichotomy are not quite accurate.

J is pretty sure that the poor handling of her girlfriend's car being mistakenly towed from her apartment complex parking lot was due to discomfort with her queer relationship. However, certain discussions about this event have led J to believe that folks do not totally agree that homophobia played a role.

In general J gets the sense from several interactions that her reactions are seen as “too angry” and “too sensitive” to issues related to identity and the state of “other.” Folks point out that her examples have mediating factors and furthermore, she's not the only woman, person of color, or queer person in the class, yet she seems to be the only one who feels this way. One person has told her that it was just her personality, not anything related or race or homophobia. While a year ago, she was more certain that her interpretations of the world were valid from at least some perspectives, lately she feels like she gets so much feedback that she's wrong in both her feelings and opinions, that she's sure she must be unable to interpret reality correctly.

J has spent a significant amount of time and energy trying to analyze if she is suffering from illusions. She describes intense feelings of guilt and a decreased sense of self and self worth for being unable to conform to what seems to be a more appropriate world view. In an attempt to hide her possible disconnect from reality, she has tried to stop discussing such issues, especially with those that she believes might disagree with her. She reports “being scared” of conversations that might remind her that her interpretations of reality do not align with those around her.

When asked if this has ever happened before, J states that all her life she's seemed to be a bit outside the mainstream and did not always hold popular opinions or feelings. However, this episode seems to be different. In the past she had the confidence to believe she was different but not necessarily crazy. She does not know why this time is different.

When asked if she ever feels like she's not going crazy or that her feelings and perceptions might be valid she says, “Yes, but only when I'm talking to my girlfriend or I'm reading books by folks of other about race/identity or when I go to conferences about marginalized communities. Then I feel ok, but then sometimes I get angry that I feel crazy in my life when maybe I'm not.”

These days, diversity and multicultural experiences are all the rage. And while in previous posts I have agreed that xenophobia seems to be a natural response for most humans, I think that it's also true that so long as our own ways of life are not threatened, we're also very curious people. We like exotic experiences.

While much of my life has been spent sharing my own culture with others, certainly nobody would be surprised to find out that I also enjoy learning about other people's culture. This includes white American culture. Yes, despite growing up in this country, despite living in mostly white areas for much of my life, white people still confuse me sometimes. Sometimes so much so that I feel like I'm in a different country. Maybe it's a regional thing.

So my most recent cultural experience: tailgating.

To be honest, I have not ever been given a formal definition of "tailgating," but the word seems to derive from “tailgate” which refers to the back of a car. One hangs out around the tailgate of a car preparing for a football game. Presumably this started in the parking lot of the stadium and has become such an event of its own, that a car, parking lot, stadium, and/or ticket are no longer necessary. Incidentally, this usage of “tailgating” is separate from the same word that is used to describe a method of driving that is aggressively close to the car in front of you. “Tailgating” around a sporting event has a positive connotation. The latter has a negative one.

So I appeared on a golf course in Ann Arbor on Saturday morning dressed in as much blue and yellow as possible. As most folks do when faced with a new cultural experience, I tried to learn the social rules and trends:

[one] Drink alcohol. Drink to get drunk.

In general, I'm a huge fan of it being socially acceptable to get drunk especially if it's in the morning. This was no problem for me.

[two] Though there is a fair amount of mingling and eating going on, many folks partake in playing simple games with each other:

[a] bean bag toss – Two pairs stand about 10 yards apart from each other. Each pair has a wooden stand with a hole drilled in it. You take turns trying to throw a bean bag into the hole. Ok, the last time I witnessed this game being played was at a school fair for third graders. If any of those nine-year olds were able to throw the bean bag in, they were given a paper ticket that they could then trade in later for a piece of candy or a plastic toy that would in the next hour either 1) fall apart or 2) get swallowed. It was difficult for me to watch grown, burly men with straight faces and serious scowls play this game without cracking up. However, no one else seemed to this this was funny so I did not make a spectacle.

[b] pee in the trees without getting a ticket from the roaming police officers - I did partake in this game and I have to say I'm not too bad at it. My friend, Josh, who was kind of showing me the ropes for the morning shared with me his secret strategy: if you notice a police officer coming, immediately stop peeing. Then if they question you tell them you hadn't started yet. Urinating in public may be illegal but the intent to pee in public is not.

[c] throw golf balls tied to strings and try to get them to wrap around a three tiered bar - A quick google search of “golf ball string game tailgate” reveals that this game is “ladder golf.” I have actually only seen this game played once before in my life. I was at a friend of friend's house “up north”. It was at a barbeque and the only other game available to play was “throw this heavy metal part of what used to be a car as far as you can.” I chose to play ladder golf.  Later, one of the guys throwing the barbeque said to me, “I'll run around the yard naked if you do.”  On Saturday morning, I looked around the tailgaters, however, I did not see either my old BBQ host or the old car parts. Maybe because they wanted to protect the golf course grass.

[d] donate your recyclables - This game is a two player game. You can only play if you're drinking from a recyclable container. Each time you finish your drink, you become player one. Player one's role is to put your can/bottle on the ground. Player two is any one of tattered looking folks wandering around the golf course picking up your garbage and putting it in their shopping cart.

[e] beer pong - This game I had been exposed to in college so I was able to pretend that I was not a newcomer to the tailgating experience. I decided to play and teamed up with a very friendly young man named Uri. There are several social practices in this game:
1) Make sexual references. If you and your partner both sink your throws, make sure you crow, “gang bang!” If you ask for a re-rack, make sure you comment on whether or not the new rack is attractive. At this point Uri said, “I like this rack. Well, I like all racks.” At this point I noticed that he had been putting his arm around me between shots. Hoping to head off any confusion about our relationship I also chimed in, “I've never met a rack I didn't like.”
2) Make fun of the other team.
3) Always blame the wind.
4) Always make your sexual references palatable to a male heterosexual mentality.
Though I played better than I ever had in my life, in the end Uri and I lost by one cup. However, I definitely came out ahead as before the end of the game I was given the ultimate compliment by Uri, “You know, my friend says that he doesn't think Asians are attractive, but I don't agree. I think you're hot.” I had nothing else to say except, “Well, on behalf of my race, I accept the compliment. Um, have you seen my friends? Did you see where they went?” Uri was persistent, “Just tell me, do you have a boyfriend?” “um. I have a girlfriend.” “REALLY! You?! No!” “Um. Yea. You know, I just looked around and I can't see my friends. Maybe I should go look for them.” “You know, I've always thought that two women together was really hot.” “oh really? I've never heard that before.” “Oh yea. I'm really open minded about that sort of thing.”

In the end I'd have to say that, like most experiences where I learn about a new culture, I enjoyed the experience. Apparently the Ohio v Michigan game is quite an event. Maybe I should invest in my own set of bean bags.

The one year anniversary post:

Ever since I was little, I think there was something in me that just knew that I wouldn't end up with another Chinese person. I don't know why. Maybe because I grew up in a really white suburb of Connecticut. The odds just weren't there. At the time it didn't seem too disturbing. It was clear to me that other Chinese parents wanted their kids to end up with Chinese partners. While I figured that was also my parents' preference, they also made it clear, they would never make me date a Chinese person. That felt liberating and I was proud of us! This is America!

However as I got older, this soon became a point of anxiety for me. It was still clear to me that I would probably not end up with a Chinese person. On the other hand, my concern about how much Chinese the next generation would be infused with grew. I did some quick math in my head. My Chinese language ability, understanding of the culture, and ability to cook was, by my liberal estimates, was about 10% of my parents. This was in a household of two Chinese parents that grew up in Taiwan. I projected forward. Since my household would only have me, it might be reasonable to estimate that I would actually be able to pass on maybe 3% of what I actually know (surely, it could not be 5% as I was positive that two Chinese parents had a synergistic, not just cumulative effect). That meant in the span of two generations, our culture would be reduced to three tenths of a percent.

And, because I'm a “worst case scenario” kind of person, I figured I'd end up with a white person. This is not to say that white folks are worse than other folks. But in my head, what I was thinking is that white, American culture is so mainstream, that any child growing up in the states would undoubtedly experience it, learn about it, and incorporate it. Having a white parent was culturally redundant.

And so for a long time, this was something that I had resigned myself to. There wasn't anything to be done about it. The most that I could do was try to bolster my percentage so that my children had a slightly larger pool to draw from. And maybe I would make my parents hang out with them. And the dreaded Chinese school. My kids were definitely sentenced to years of Saturday morning torture.

I realize that the way I'm talking about culture right now makes it sound like this mechanical or discrete knowledge set that I want to force upon my children. I think that's how it comes out sometimes because we grow so anxious about passing these things on, that we don't know what else to do. Certainly as a child, sometimes I felt like Chinese things were a just an exercise in culture that I was required to do because my hair was black and I had squinty eyes.

However, around the time that I got to college, I began to realize that culture was more than that. It was part of my family; it was part of my history; it was part of who I was. I remember showing up to my friend's house late in my freshman year. We were getting together to make dumplings and I realized that participating didn't just bring the promise of yummy food. When I walked through the door and saw everything laid out on the table, I suddenly had this huge sense of relief. Somehow, some part of me had returned home in some way. I realized how much I associated Chinese culture with an anchor in life.

And so when I think about my kids, my anxiety is that the less I pass on to them, the less they understand me, the less they understand their history, the less they understand themselves. I think about all the things that I associate with my childhood and I fear that I can't reproduce it for them. I can recognize some of my favorite dishes when they're cooked, but I can't remember them all myself. And I can't cook them all. I don't even know all their names. We want to show our kids all the things we cherish and it makes me anxious that I can't do that. It's stressful to think that I was the last to know.

And so it was this mindset that I left the states, and my white girlfriend, for, ostensibly, the last summer vacation of my life. I was heading to Taiwan. I would live with my grandmother. I would learn Chinese. I would learn to cook.

As I've alluded to in the past, arriving in Taiwan was so fantastic it felt like a dream. My grandmother was finally letting me watch her cook instead of just having food ready when I showed up. I remember how satisfying it was to feel like my Chinese was actually improving. The words that I found in my books I found on the street. Phrases that I used to understand but could never use myself, seemed to roll off my tongue. And the pinnacle of achievement: I wandered out of the house one day, found my way around the city on my own, ordered from a menu I could read, and then found the right bus line home.  Given the bus route signs in Taipei, this was no small feat.  My eyes shone with pride.

As time went on I seemed to calm down a bit. The concerns that my Chinese would again disintegrate when I got back to the states seemed to fade. This trip had shown me that I could pick it up if I wanted or needed to. The foundation for that was there and that would never go away. And with that I came to realize that if my Chinese wasn't perfect, that was ok. I wasn't born in Taiwan. I don't live there. I'm from the states and not having perfect Chinese is part of who I am.

And I began to look around a little bit more. As freeing as it was to be so enveloped with Chinese culture, I began to notice how the homogeneity could be stifling. For example, gender normativity is still very strong. I began to understand why my mom has always preferred living in the States. I could not find any good Mexican food to save my life. That sort of thing.

So I guess culture is this balance of old and new. I'm reminded once again that it's a fluid entity that's constantly evolving. And it occurs to me that for the first time I can really appreciate that though things are lost, at least in terms of culture, things are always gained. Instead of just looking at the negative consequences of what not having two Chinese parents might be, I can finally recognize the benefits that also might bring. I think about all the time and emotional energy that I've spent in the past year sorting out being in an interracial relationship. I think about the strength that my partner and I have gained from unpacking race and all the baggage that, unfortunately in this world, race brings with it. I can't help but think that my children are bound to benefit from growing up in a household where interracial/intercultural dialogue is a culture in it of itself.

They say that folks find people that they have things in common with.  It's the common experience that brings folks together.  Maybe it's no wonder that Soo-Rae and I are such close friends.  We're both Chinese American.  We both don't eat meat.  We're both liberal.  We're both loud.  We're both obsessed with food.  That would seem like enough for a solid relationship, but the parallels get deeper... and creepier.  Both of our parents are from Taiwan.  They all came to the states for graduate school.  Her dad did his graduate degree in Chemistry in Michigan.  So did my dad.  Her mom did her graduate degree in Ohio.  So did my mom.

Anyway, because of these similarities we often laugh about/lament/help navigate life as second generation vegetarians.

We help each other try to figure out how to cook:

We try to find vegetarian versions of Chinese food that usually have meat but also grow suspicious if they taste too good:

But then we get confused...

more doomage:

Just some perspective... Nougat is such a big deal in Taiwan that there's a museum about it. [english link]


And then we just finish with dreams for technological advancements in food for our children. And California. Mmmmm. California:

NYT: South Koreans Struggle With Race:
"South Korea, a country where until recently people were taught to take pride in their nation’s “ethnic homogeneity” and where the words “skin color” and “peach” are synonymous, is struggling to embrace a new reality. In just the past seven years, the number of foreign residents has doubled, to 1.2 million, even as the country’s population of 48.7 million is expected to drop sharply in coming decades because of its low birth rate.

For most South Koreans, globalization has largely meant increasing exports or going abroad to study. But now that it is also bringing an influx of foreigners into a society where 42 percent of respondents in a 2008 survey said they had never once spoken with a foreigner, South Koreans are learning to adjust — often uncomfortably.

In a report issued Oct. 21,  Amnesty International criticized discrimination in South Korea against migrant workers, who mostly are from poor Asian countries, citing sexual abuse, racial slurs, inadequate safety training and the mandatory disclosure of H.I.V. status, a requirement not imposed on South Koreans in the same jobs. Citing local news media and rights advocates, it said that following last year’s financial downturn, “incidents of xenophobia are on the rise.”

In South Korea, a country repeatedly invaded and subjugated by its bigger neighbors, people’s racial outlooks have been colored by “pure-blood” nationalism as well as traditional patriarchal mores, said Seol Dong-hoon, a sociologist at Chonbuk National University."

The article ends with quote from a bricklayer whose job is threatened by foreign migrant workers, "Our ethnic homogeneity is a blessing.  If they keep flooding in, who can guarantee our country won't be torn apart by ethnic war as in Sri Lanka?"

With so many things that could be said, it's hard to know how to respond.  It occurs to me, that yet again, people are people and for some reason we're naturally xenophobic.  It also occurs to me that maybe folks in the US have something to offer.  As one of the countries with one of the more racially charged histories, we've been struggling with this for years.  Other thoughts: is it reasonable for folks to expect to reap certain benefits of globalization without having to face all of its effects?

What I've really been thinking about lately is the way in which we frame race issues.  The NYT article frames the issue from the angle of a country combating racism.  It discusses the inequities and social harassments that foreigners (and those who associate with them) must face.  Certainly, it's an important topic.  South Korea's government has discussed trying to implement programs that downplay the virtues of "pure-blood" nationalism.

Admittedly, South Korea's history has strongly associated diversity with subjugation and abuse, an additional hurdle, but I often wonder how often we actually focus on the inherent benefit that all folks gain from diversity instead of simply equality because it's an ethical value.  Outside of educational environments, I feel like the main dialogue around race and diversity has more to do with "equalling a playing field."  Basically we focus on making sure that diverse elements do not harm those outside of the mainstream, but we don't spend as much time focusing on how bigotry actually harms all involved, not just those that are "other."

I guess what I'm saying is that when we focus only on the lack of privilege that bigotry creates, it inevitably sets up a zero-sum game with the mainstream losing something (jobs, scholarships, anything really).  Addressing racism means that folks have to give something up.  However, when the issue is reframed as 1) yes we will be ethical human beings by treating everyone equally AND 2) look at what richer lives we will ALL lead with increased diversity, I'm wondering if it's easier to accept and support.