Growing up Chinese

It's 1:59 AM as I start to type this blog post.  I'm sitting here still working on the Research Assistant rut that I've taken upon myself to burrow through, during Thanksgiving break, having consumed most of my "resting" days (insert mopey face here).  At first, I was thinking, "Why on Earth do I get myself into these things along with 2390859043 other things that make them turn into annoying inconveniences?"  And then I realized my research would be so much easier if my parents weren't so Chinese.  I know it sounds terrible, but please, allow me to explain.

My research consists of interviewing and recording the interview with 26 Americans. I must fit the criteria to complete the leftover demographically reflective sample with these 26 people: a certain amount of males/females, a certain amount of Republicans/Democrats/Independents, a certain amount of high school education only/college education, a certain amount of young-/middle-/old-aged, and on and on.  Then I have to transcribe the recordings (the interviews last anywhere from 10-90 minutes and it takes three times as long as the actual recording to transcribe it).  Then I have to do all kinds of neat analysis type things with it.  And well, despite the tedious and meticulous work, nothing is quite as difficult as the part where I have to find these 26 people.

It's been over a year since my family has moved to Texas.  This project would've been easy if I could still interview my fellow South Carolinians that I've come to know over the ten years I've lived there but I'm required to do face-to-face, in-person (meaning no Skype) interviews.  But you'd think that one-and-a-half year here in Austin would be enough for my parents to have made enough friends to help me recruit some potential interviewees for my research (since, from what my professor told me, that's how the past Research Assistants worked their connections).  And you know, my parents have made enough friends.  But the problem lies in that they are mostly Chinese people who have recently arrived in the U.S. or have such heavy accents that the interviews with them are often rendered useless and void.  I'm still missing seven more recruits, and I need my entire project done by this coming Wednesday.  I'm in a desperate crunch.

And it's this part of my anxious, running thoughts where I realize that this would all be so much easier if my parents had been, well, more assimilated into the All-American community.  Then, golly gee, I'd have loads of recruits to interview and I would've been done already!  Sad, but true.

Then upon even further revelation, I realized that's how it's been my entire life.  Everything seemed to be a little more difficult for me than my peers (or maybe that's because I grew up mostly in South Carolina so it's warped my perspective, but nonetheless, it's troublesome!).  I mean, don't get me wrong, my parents are fully-functional Americans who have careers - my dad's a professor and my mom works for a big company.  It's just that there's still the cultural and language barrier (I came over to the States at the age of two so we're still pretty Chinese despite my own super Americanized-ness).  It was always weird trying to get my parents to socialize with other parents at any given high school occasion.  In fact, I was this lone butterfly for a while because from where I came from, the parents of the kids who were best friends were also best friends.  Not only that, often in academics and extracurriculars, my parents couldn't help me like other parents did.  In the areas where I saw other parents helping my peers with their school projects or talking teachers into playing favorites, I worked hard to accomplish what I have, on my own.  I mean, I was never mad at dearest father and mother.  How could I have been?  My parents are truly the most supportive and encouraging parents anyone could ever have.  Though honestly, I've kind of always felt like I was on my own, and it's kind of lonely sometimes (or rather, often times).

But somehow, I'm so thankful (no, I did not prepare this blog post for Thanksgiving, though I feel like I should have). For all of it.  For all this independence I was forced into.  I can veraciously say that my independence is unlike any other independence.  Because I can do things on my own...but I've always had the encouragement waiting for me when I turn around, and a shoulder to cry on for the colossal number of failures I've encountered as a consequence of this forced independence.  And it's made me more aware - more aware that I'm, in fact, not the only one - that there may be another just like me, going through all the trials they have to, just because they're different.

In the end, I must say that growing up Chinese has made me recognize my strength - that I'm stronger than I normally take myself to be.  But most of all, it's made me recognize that there are other individuals out there who are just as beautifully strong.  And some of them don't realize it yet.  So, I'm going to take it upon myself to help them see it.