Before I reached my thirties, it was inconceivable that those words could be written into the same sentence. Looking back, it’s crazy how I went from total ignorance to hidden curiosity and from absolute shame to rebellious pride mixed with feelings of exclusion. Exactly what is the reason for my pride? The shared heritage of which I cannot relate? My experiences and story seem absent from this video that asks, “Are you Vietnamese American?” and then ends with “You might be Vietnamese American when…” I want to add my own to reflect my experiences.
You might be Vietnamese American adoptee if…
you feel uncomfortable around other Vietnamese.
you grew up thinking Phúc was a dirty word.
you ate phở before you could properly pronounce it.
you thought you were white before other kids called you “gook”.
dumbshits ever suggested your Vietnamese mom might have been a prostitute.
other Vietnamese looked at you funny when you tried to speak Vietnamese.
neighbors looked accusingly at you when their dogs went missing.
I could go on and on. Of course, there are places where lines of experience cross but most of my experiences as a TRA-first-generation-immigrant veer off into the realm of the weird and sadly humorous. It’s so frustrating and alienating because there are just some places into which my fluid identity can never flow. Over the years, I’ve slowly begun to come to terms with this but have yet to find true consolation despite finding those who do share my experiences as an adoptee. Ahhh, I’m never satisfied.
ahh, fluid identity – that says it all.
Yeah, I watched this video, too. Although I didn’t completely relate to it, I understood where it was coming from. I really like your list for us VN adoptees.
Somedays, I think I have a chunky, cottage cheese cultural/national identity.
Keep up with the great poems. Each year my parents grow older, I start thinking more and more about all that they provided me and the kind of (financial) support they lent me. Of course, whenever I’m physically with them, they either annoy or bore me to death. That’s why I live on the other side of the country.
Hear hear! I have similar feelings about my identity as a Korean-American TRA. We really are in a third dimension, where 1st generation and 1.5 don’t accommodate us.
(P.S. Or, apparently you might be Vietnamese-American if you just like ‘em a whole lot: http://www.insidebayarea.com/sanmateocountytimes/localnews/ci_4781000)
Heh, Jae Ran…you know it!
Thanks Kevin, yeah, I understand but can’t exactly relate to it all. A lot of people say I’m better off for it, too. I agree for the most part, but still….
I know I keep saying this, but I’m glad your back to blogging and posting more of your poetry. Haha, bad Kevin not that I can say anything. I live half-way across the country. Does that make me only half as bad as you?
Ji-in, that article kind of threw me for a loop and initially made me say grrrrrr! I need to look into this a little more. Hmmmm.
Too true, the fluid identity. So many times I feel this as well and am frustrated with the limitations of identity politics/racial construction. It took me a long time to feel like a Korean American instead of an imposter. Thank the gods for the blogosphere. Great post!
I have 4 adopted Vietnamese siblings (all adopted before 1975) (and at least 3 WERE indeed children of prostitutes/soldiers), and they would probably agree with a lot of what you have written here–especially this feeling of being white but not looking white, since they grew up in a white family; although, in our case, it’s a little more complicated because they grew up in India as well.