On Friendship

By Joy Jeng

When I was young, I didn’t have much appreciation for things in my life in general: I overlooked a loving family, regular meals, a closet filled with toys, another with clothes, a crime-free neighborhood, and clean air to breathe, and underneath all of this, it certainly never occurred to me to value my culture. Celebrating and understanding my ethnicity was a very distant idea, almost abstract in my mind. Although my childhood included nearly all of the stereotypical Asian experiences, such as music lessons and reams of Kumon homework, I was quite indifferent to these things as a means of distinction, a cultural classification separating Chinese children. It wasn’t that I wasn’t proud of being Chinese. Sometimes I simply didn’t remember, and the result of all of this is that I looked upon my Chinese friends and my American friends as one. I missed the opportunity to form unique connections with them.

My outlook on my culture changed completely after I joined Chinese school. As I made friends among my classmates, I recognized my own life reflected in their conversation, their habits, and their daily routines. Here are other kids who share my interests, and endure the same crosses that I have to bear as a Chinese teenager growing up in the United States. My Chinese friends can offer more than polite concern when I am worried or angry; with them I came to learn the sweetness of friendship balanced by perfect understanding, and even beyond sympathy, my Chinese friends are able to give me strength and support because they are right there where I am, moving with me and seeing and feeling the same things. With my Chinese friends I can find a match for every mood, and we whine, waste time, brood, share happiness, and be giddy together, whatever the occasion requires. When I am with them, I see our common experience picked out in delicate relief against the background of American society that surrounds us everywhere else, save at Chinese school. Our similarities brought us close very quickly, and as we grow older they will keep us close and hold our front, preserving our Chinese heritage as we continue our lives in the United States.

Accordingly my interest in my own culture was launched. For the first time I was thankful that my parents had tried in my early childhood to teach me to read and write Chinese themselves, but after a few years of sweating blood had to admit defeat—hence Chinese school—and insisted on at least speaking the language at home. I love observing customs and holidays and participating in Chinese New Year programs. Every aspect of being Chinese—eating the food, watching anime, straining to reach sky-high standards on the academic scene, anything that defines the Chinese culture—became appealing to me after I discovered that I had friends to share my experiences with. The more I understand my culture, the more I realize how deeply it is a part of my life, and I treasure it so much more.

My life did not exactly flip upside down when I joined Chinese school four years ago. But my old perception of my place in society came crashing down to the floor. I love my non-Asian friends, but I feel a connection with my Chinese friends that I never suspected I could share with any group of people. I hope that Chinese youth everywhere will continue to find support in one another, and that the friendship they share will be an inspiration to keep the traditions of our culture alive.