My birthday, my life – Growing up with two cultures

Growing up in America was the most confusing and probably the darkest period of my life. My parents raised us with the traditional values that their parents taught them. They also expect us to be respectful as their parents expect of them. We were never to answer back when our parents yelled at us, even if they are wrong. We are never to protest when we get punish, even if it’s unjust. We are never to walk away when they are talking to us, no matter what it is. We are to respect our elders and forgive the younger ones. Being a middle child, that just mean you can never win a fight with your sisters nor ever be right.

However I was taught the opposite at school. I was suppose to speak up when something is wrong and the teachers expect that of me. I was suppose to look people straight in the eye when I speak to them. I tried it at home and got spank for being disrespectful. The more things I learn from school, the more I get spank at home. It doesn’t help that my two older sisters are good, obedient children who always as they are told. I am the one who always challenge them. I got the worst of the culture clash and couldn’t tell what’s right anymore. I got hit so much as I was growing up that I became rebellious, angry, and detached. (In my dad’s defense, he was under tremendous stress when we all first came to the US. He had to work 3 jobs to support the family of 6 and have 4 rowdy girls to keep in line while trying to get some rest. The sleep-deprivation and stress makes him very hot-tempered and wasn’t himself.)

High school was the worst time because I had became so rebellious and out-of-control that my parents basically gave up on me. I am just thankful I had the sense to never let my grades fail, no matter what was going on at home. My parents wanted me to grow up the way they grew up and I couldn’t do it because I’ve adapt the American culture. I always talk back to my dad whenever I disagree with him and that threw him into an angry fit every time. It’s a slap in public, a spanking in front of all my sisters, or a death threat. The one time that I vividly remember is when he couldn’t find some old phone and accused me of giving it to my boyfriend at the time. I don’t know what he’s talking about but I am suppose to keep quiet while he goes on this angry rant and demean me. I can’t be that person so I talked back. Talking back means disrespect and he went on this angry rampage. He slapped me and threw me around against the wall. I was hard-headed and just look at him in hatred. I refuse to cry, ask him to stop, nor yell for help. I just stare at him in silent hatred while he beat me. This fuel his anger even more and he punched me in the stomach twice, knocking the wind out of me. That’s the only time in my life that I had ever been punch in my stomach. I remember I was sharing the room with my oldest sister and she got scared and run out when he came in full of rage. I am wasn’t angry at my sister, even at the time. She was just as scared as I was and I didn’t want her to get involve. I think a part of them think that I brought it upon myself, and maybe I did.

After he got tired of beating me, he went to his room and I heard him trying to get the gun and cocking it. He told my mom that he’s going to kill me and I heard them fighting in their room. I just sat in my room with no emotion and cold. The whole time he was hitting me, all I had in my head was “the worst he can do is kill me” and I wasn’t scare.

My mom managed to get him to calm down and stayed in his room. I put all my things in 3 large trash bags, get out on the street and called my closest friend of the time to come pick me up. It was the first time I ran away thinking I would never come back.

I stayed at my friend’s mom’s house and my mom came looking for me the next day. I was black and blue all over my body and couldn’t walk upright from the punches. I felt bad that my mom has to come get me and that I made her cry but I wasn’t planning to come back home. She asked me the realistic question of where will I stay? I said here and she said “you can’t stay here forever and have her mom take care of you.” That’s when it hit me that I haven’t plan too far ahead. She’s right, I really can’t stay there long-term and I don’t think my friend’s mom wants that burden. My mom begged me to come home and she was crying so I agreed to do so for her. I came home and my dad was sitting in the living room. He tried to tell me in so many words that he didn’t want to hurt me..that no parent wants to hurt their child..I didn’t remember what else because those words mean nothing to me. The worst of it is that I had to APOLOGIZE to him for leaving the house. I knew it was wrong and every stubborn bone in my body protest. I had to swallow all of them down to do it for my mom.

I became super rebellious the rest of my high school years. They pushed, I push back harder. I was determine to do everything opposite of what my parents said because I have this intense hatred for them. I was very angry with everything in my life and no one who understands what I am going through. I sneak out of the house in a frequent basis. One time in my senior year, I snuck out every single day for the entire week. My mom caught me one but I didn’t care. I don’t do anything bad when I snuck out, just go over a friend’s house to watch a movie or drive around with some friends listening to music. However to my parents, I was a slut. I hung out with bad friends, I started smoking but quickly stop. My oldest sister saw me smoking in the backyard once and she started crying asking me to stop. No matter how rebellious I was, I am still extremely close with my sisters because we all face the same parenting issues. I didn’t want to disappoint my sister so I stop at her request. I don’t know how I have the sense to keep my grades up and stayed off drugs during this time. I am just thankful I did.

I met Hieu in my sophmore year in college. My parents didn’t like him at first because he’s from the North and we are South Vietnamese. It’s just that old prejudice from generations before. He was a poor student so he comes to our house almost everyday to have dinner without bringing anything and they think he’s mooching. He grew up in the US so he doesn’t know all the ettiquettes and proper manners that is expected of Vietnamese guests. One time he left the door in the powder room and my older sister made a comment to my mom about how he can never “get it right”. I was with Hieu on the first floor and can clearly hear them. I was embarrass and mad so I went upstairs to confront them. It turned out to be this huge fight and Hieu was caught in the middle of it. I decide that night to move out with him. I have had enough of my parent’s rules and righteousness.

Hieu came the next morning with his friend’s truck to help me move my stuff. My little sister was napping after coming home from school and I woke her up to say goodbye. I am closest to her so as soon as I said I am leaving, I can see tears welled up in her eyes and she started crying. She asked if I had to leave and I said yes, I can’t stand it anymore. As I was getting up to leave, my oldest sister came home and saw me. She is the one I am second closest to so it was hard for me. She tried to stop me but couldn’t so she called my dad to ask him for help. The message he relay to me was “tell her to give back the house key.” That fuel my anger more and further convince me that I made the right decision. I told my sister “with pleasure” and hugged her to leave. As soon as I walk out of the house, the emotions washed over me I stood in front of the house hugging Hieu and sobbing uncontrollably. He held me like that for a long time.

The first three months I moved in with Hieu was the saddest for me. I wasn’t allow to see my sisters nor talk to them. I had to sneak around and talk with my little sister on the phone whenever I knew my parents aren’t home. I wasn’t allow to come to family functions anymore so on Mother’s Day, I left my mom some flowers at their front door with a note. I miss my sisters terribly and was crying everyday. I felt like I left a part of me back at my parent’s house. My life was just not complete.

My mom called me after she got the flowers and tell me and Hieu to come by for dinner. She also told me that the only way I can come back to see my sisters again is if not only I apologize to my parents, but also Hieu. They felt that Hieu shouldn’t have encourage me to leave the way I did but he was really just an innocent bystander. At this time I was willing to do anything to be in contact with my sisters again, even swallowing all my pride. Hieu protest about his apology but did it because he loves me. We went to my parent’s house for dinner and both of us had to stand in front of them to apologize for me leaving. It’s the second time I stood in front of my dad to apologize and not meant a single word.

I think me moving out was the best thing for everyone, no matter how hard it was at the time. I grew up and matured after living on my own and start understand my parents a little more. I encouraged all my other sisters to move out and my mom was mad at me each time they do but she gets over it. I eventually gain their respect and they start calling me whenever they have a problem with my little sister.

I don’t have the closest relationship with my parents currently but we all get along just fine. I am probably the one they think they can count on the most, which is very ironic. I don’t hold any ill wills towards my parents, especially my dad. He’s a different person now and I leave all the ugliness in the past. I don’t hold a grudge against them because I think they struggled with the culture clash as much as I did. I can only imagine how difficult it is to adjust when everything you were taught is now challenged. That may also be why I chose not to hit my kids but try to teach them with love and nurture. Maybe I am too Americanize for my own good. ^_^