But, even though I've been granted all of these things, sometimes I just can't feel satisfied with them. I know I've gotten more mature in the past two to three years, but I can't help just feeling bad and wishing things had gone another way.
In my first major rant, entitled "A Fine Mess," I complained endlessly about my parents' harsh punishments. Now, however, I can see just how immature I was at that time; everything I said, everything I thought, everything I told other people was just an excuse to justify the fact that I was too lazy and distracted to remember to do my homework.
I forgive myself for that. I was young and naïve back then, just like many people I know are today. Who was I to understand the importance of a good education at such a young age? But my conscience doesn't forgive me. The memories of my complaints come back to haunt me every few weeks. And today, I still find myself complaining about my parents, even now as I'm writing this post.
Okay, I should get back on topic.
My life has been really messed up. As an only child born to a nonreligious family, there wasn't exactly a set of morals from the holy book taught to me the moment I learned to speak. I don't know how they expect me to learn the basics of life, but apparently my parents believe that manners, respect, and common sense are supposed to be taught at school. In fact, every time I've been remotely "rude" to someone, they thought it was because I wasn't paying attention in class.
Whatever happened with my parents, that's the way it is in Anhui province, China, where my mom was born and raised. But here's the problem: <b>I'm not in Anhui province.</b> I'm in America. Obviously, things are different in America, and one difference I can point out right now is that <b>teachers don't teach manners, morals, and common sense. Parents do.</b>
I'm a first-generation overseas Chinese. My parents say I'm a second-generation Chinese American. I identify myself as the former: 100% Chinese who just happens to live somewhere else. But regardless of my identity, one cannot dispute the fact that my parents spent most of their lives in China.
About two weeks ago, my World History teacher brought up a question regarding culture. It went something like this:
The answers, respectively, are teachers, nobody, and nobody. Nobody told me not to talk to strangers. I used to do it quite often until I somehow became shy overnight. Nobody told me not to eat things off the ground. (In fact, when I lived in Japan, I used to eat chips that I found on the asphalt road. Then I realized that that was disgusting, and I stopped.) Every bit of common sense, every moral, every rule that I live by, I made up myself. (I even tried making up my own religion. That didn't last too long.) But because I communicate with mostly Americans these days, many of the morals and manners I use today come from Americans, and many of them contradict with Chinese tradition. And when I act in a manner that is polite in America but rude in China, I get an hour-long lecture. An hour of my parents yelling at me. (They always seem to yell at me over everything. In fact, there was an explosion in my house just about two hours ago; I was home alone, and the first thing my parents did when they got home was yell at me, because how was I supposed to know that wet coals were combustible.)Ms. V wrote:Who were the ones who told you not to cross when there are cars? Who were the ones who told you not to talk to strangers? Who were the ones who told you not to eat things off the ground?
It's the same with the language. When I talk to my parents in English, they always have trouble understanding. In fact, half of the times my parents scolded me, it was because they thought I said something bad in English, but I didn't.
It's pretty funny how my parents are always yelling at me about everything, and when I say "sorry" they yell at me even more, and whenever my dad does something, he just makes excuses, blames it on me, and never apologizes. And that makes me so pissed because here I am being burned by the fire of their wrath, while every time they do something bad they just say that there's nothing they can do about it, and that they'll try to fix it next time, and end up doing the same thing the next week. All that while I'm fixing my mistakes and getting yelled at (which included one death threat, over which I could go on and one about, but I'm not gonna) for forgetting to turn in my homework ONCE after like a month of A+'s. And when I tell them to stop yelling at me and LET ME FINISH MY SENTENCES BEFORE JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS, they say "I'm not yelling you" in a loud and accusing tone. Friggin hypocrites. Always forgiving themselves and scolding me for the same mistake.
On another note, I'm homesick. Yes, homesick. In my own house.
As many people already know, I've lived in three countries: China, Japan, and the United States. The thing is, over the past century China and Japan haven't been getting along so well, and many people hate Japan because of war crimes and propaganda. (Believe it or not, propaganda actually works. How else would Uncle Sam be so popular?) And I'm sure that my mom is one of those people.
Last summer, my family and I were trying to decide where to go for a vacation. I suggested Japan. My mom started yelling me in the loudest voice I've heard from her, and this is what she said:
And you know what? Next, I suggested Canada, another place we've already been to, and we ended up going there.My mom wrote:We've already been to Japan! Why should we go there again?!
My mom's bad connotation towards Japan is really hurting me, because I loved living in Japan. I loved being able to ride the trains to anywhere. I loved how everyone was so polite. I loved ramen shops. I loved the Japanese language and speaking Japanese. I loved those cool melodies they play at public service announcements. I love those cute chibi mascots and stick figures they use on public signs. And I loved the lifestyle of Japan. And today, I still love all of those things. But I know my mom won't approve. My parents try to get me to stop speaking Japanese because "[I'm] not Japanese." And when they do that, my reply is always "I'm not American; how come you let me speak English?" And their conclusion is the same as what everyone says: "Because you live in America."
But I lived in Japan, too! Even if I left at the tiny age of five, Japan was my home, and like I explained earlier, I loved it there, and I honestly don't believe I should let it go just because my parents decided to move. In fact, I plan on moving to Japan in the future. It's painful to live so far away from your old home. The idea of being able to go back to Japan, to Raspberry Heaven, is what keeps me going. It's what motivates me to complete my homework, go to a good university, and graduate with at least a masters degree. Without it, I would have no reason to be the best that I can be.
I haven't told my mom about my wish to move to Japan, because I'm afraid of what she'll think. She's used a plethora of excuses to lure me away from Japan, and I don't know how to tell her that Japan is where my heart is, even though it's not my country and I haven't lived their that long.
And then the thing that pisses me off the most is that everyone treats me like an American even though I'm not and they always make these stupid assumptions about me. Like, for example, today during lunch my friend Neji (online name) asked me what sashimi is. I laughed. (If you don’t know what sashimi is, I’m going to laugh at you.) I mean, only an idiot doesn’t know what sashimi is. It’s like not knowing what wasabi is. Everyone knows what it is, regardless of where they’re from.
So the whole time I was like “You don’t know what sashimi is?”, and then Neji goes like “Well, yeah, we’re Americans.”
Pretty interesting, that statement. Basically proves that everyone’s a hypocrite.
Every time I don’t know what something American is, I get bugged about it just like how I bugged Neji today. I’m not an American, and I couldn’t care less about American things. Like flag football, for example. I asked what it is, and Neji bugged me for like 10 minutes. I don’t give a crap about America because I’m not American, and nobody seems to understand that. Everyone goes like “You’ve been in America for like 8 years,” but honestly, I DON’T CARE! I don’t waste my time watching football games or listening to crappy music. I don’t waste my money buying popular clothes. I’M NOT AN AMERICAN, and it just pisses me off that everyone gives me sh*t for being myself, for doing normal things every once in a while.
So yeah, that's it. Pretty long rant. I'm sorry if I bored you to death; it's just that nobody'll listen to me talk, so I had to write it down.
