But You Speak the Language

I woke up this morning and for no reason whatsoever thought about a situation that seems to occur quite often.

It goes like this. I tell someone, when I compare myself to my other Asian American friends, I feel less Asian than they are. Sometimes I go so far as to say, I don’t feel very Asian at all.

And then my audience inevitably goes, but you speak the language! (Both of them, nonetheless…)

And then I fire, but there are others who speak as well or better than me.

But then they have this great comeback: you can read and write.

And somewhere along the line I give up. I really shouldn’t, but I think opening my eyes this morning was like opening my eyes to something I never thought about.

I think, when I’m around other Asian Americans, it’s precisely because I can speak the language and read and write, that I don’t feel very Asian.

Here’s why. I think I’m generally more direct when I communicate with people. I have my moments of “sweep it under the rug”, but who doesn’t? Thing is, if I’m tired of something I’ll speak up. Sure, I’m all about diplomacy and tact, but I’m not afraid to tell people what I think.

The catch? This is only true in English.

The moment I revert to Chinese, it’s like my thinking changes. Sentences get put together in completely different ways. While I’m still probably more direct than your average Hong Konger, my speech is surprisingly, vague.

In other words, I think because I feel I have a pretty strong grasp of the Chinese language, I’ve put everything about me that is Asian, into a mental computer that only fires up when I flip the Chinese language switch. And vice versa about English. So, while some of my friends have found satisfaction in this Asian-American niche (where they bleed indignation when asked “do you feel more Asian or American?”, to which their answer is, NEITHER YOU IGNORAMUS), I find myself going from one to the other. I am one, or the other, and sometimes both, but never really feel like I belong with this high-identity, special and neither AA crowd.

Back to the point. When I’m with my Asian American friends, we always speak in English–there’s no point in using any other language except to crack a joke. Since I’m using English, my Asian side is neatly tucked away. Therefore, when I’m around said Asian American friends, I feel less Asian.

It’s like a geometry proof. Only less concrete and infinitely more magnetic in terms of hate mail.

Trade, not Aid

I read an interesting TIME article (that was also old, thanks to the waiting room at the doctor’s) whose main premise was that the new way to look at Africa is to do business with them and forget the charity: trade, not aid. Their words.

I haven’t done too much research or thought very hard about this myself, so I can’t say I’m behind the idea, but on some level–and perhaps only in the imaginary world of ideals–it must ring true.

Sometimes, I wonder if those of us who have money, ever think about how the people we are donating money to feel about receiving our charity. There’s a book out there called Dead Aid that speaks about this very issue: aid needs to stop, business is the way to go, and the book has caused a huge wave of support, and quite lot of backlash. But the fact that it has generated such support means something; some Africans, on some level, are tired of being viewed treated as people who must be subject to the charity of other. It’s humiliating, annoying, and to some truth, downright doesn’t work.

So it doesn’t surprise me, that of all countries, China is the one that is pouring investment into the region, building infrastructure, and establishing trade agreements. Yes, it is in China’s interests, Africa is rich in natural resources, but it also illuminates a core belief of Chinese culture: saving face.

China understands that charity can be humiliating, that it makes you look like you cannot do things by yourself, that somehow, your life is worthless and at its core, simply requires you to live off of others.*  China also doesn’t enlist the superstars like Bono or depend on the soundbites of their president to be the face of Africa to their people.

Sometimes we get caught up in the idea of charity so much, we care more about charity on our end of the stick. Do we ever ask, how does the person I’m giving this to feel? If it makes them worse, then what’s the point? You’re just giving them money to feel better ourselves.

I don’t have any answers about Africa, and I’m sure that aid is still very much necessary (probably more so on the NGO level). But there’s the old Chinese*2 saying:  give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.

What does that look like in a real-world context? What does it mean to “teach Africa to fish?” We can keep giving them aid; we can also start trading with them, have them build their own businesses and companies, and treat them with some real respect.

We all need help sometimes; we all also need to believe in ourselves. Healthy balance is key, and somewhere along the way, I think with regards to Africa, we fell a bit off center.

* – Sometimes in life, this is true; you do need the help of others. China gets this too, and you don’t need to look further than the 5/12 earthquake of last year to see that.

*2 – Again, another reason why China at least understands this conundrum better than we do. Whether or not what they’re doing is making it better, well we’ll see.

Today, Nobody is Actually Racist

Well, I take that back. There are a few people that genuinely hate people based on the tone of their skin.

But I would argue, that for the most part, most people don’t care what skin color you have. In that respect, they’re not racist. However, I would say that most people something else: cultural-ist.

In other words, they hate people not for their outward appearance; they hate them for what that outward appearance implies. While years ago, people saw Africans and immediately knew they were of a lower class, nowadays the stereotypical mid-western white man sees a black man and hates that he brings a poisonous culture to his children by means of rap music, sagging jeans and the thugs and gangsters.

It is the slightest of semantics, a remote shade in the gradient of social discourse, but I think it’s one of the most important distinctions we can make. Because once we recognize the problem isn’t with our refusal to accept people who look different, we realize just how insecure we are with others who act differently than we do.

And correctly diagnosing the problem, puts us on a better path to finding a long lasting solution.

Dehumanizer

You know what’s the best way to train a soldier? Drill into his head the fact that his enemy, is just that–an enemy; not a living, breathing human with a backstory, relationships and dreams.

You also want to know what’s the best way to feel good about putting a murderer in the chamber or on the chair? Tell yourself, and everyone else that he’s a cold-blooded killer.

The best way to rile up morale against those who want to have an abortion? Tell the world that they are nothing more than baby killers.

The best way to deal with people with that strange attraction towards others of the same sex? Call them names.

How about the best way to dismiss someone else’s choice for president? Explain away that said person is a liberal. Or a conservative. Or tag them with whatever social consciousness you want to group them with.

You want to know what’s the best way to deal with a living, breathing, tied to family members and friends, person with a unique set of beliefs that simply don’t align with yours?

Box them in. Make them concrete. Tag them with names.

Make them the enemy. They might as well not be people anyway.

Live Your Life Like it’s Your Last Day

I don’t really agree with that phrase actually. It’s slightly self-serving, despite it’s good intentions. I think a better mantra is:

Treat others like it’s their last day.

One of the problems with moving around a lot, is you always feel like there are ‘last days,’ both for you, and all your friends. It’s tough, I’m not going to lie, and honestly it’s taking it’s toll on me.

On Reading Bibles, Again

A little update on this post.

In a Bible study the other night–in Chinese by the way–a woman asked me to read a passage again in English, since I was the one with the English Bible and needed it because written Chinese is impossible difficult. And after I did, she decided to explain herself: she felt that only in the English translation could we accurately interpret what was being said; it was more direct, more concise, and the words were very clear.

I suppose good thing most everyone in Taiwan has some grasp of English.

In other words, here was this lady that went out a limb to declare to everyone, the Bible in our own language isn’t capable of giving us the full, complate 100%  picture, so let’s use another language to help fill in the blanks.

Let’s assume this is true. Is it then possible, that the Bible in English is equally incapable of transmitting certain ideas, therefore causing us to lose bits and pieces of “the big picture?” Naturally, this leads us to the next question.

What about the other hundreds of languages on this planet?

Having a Heart for the Poor

Some people have a heart for the poor. It can never escape their minds as they go about their day that even if they make a measely $30,000 a year they’re already deep into that top, coveted bracket of the richest 10% of the world.  They remember that every day 30,000 kids will die from starvation. Countless others die from disease, and still more will die from prolonged wars somewhat in part fueled by our corporate greed with ten degrees of separation.

Some go to Africa to build better infrastructure. Some go to India and China teach, maybe hand out some Bibles. Some go to develop clean drinking water systems. Others go to Western governments and lobby for these things.

Some people have a heart for the poor. I think, and I can’t say for certain, I might have a heart for the rich.

I have no scientific evidence or statistically significant data beyond anecdotal stories here. Only what my gut is telling me, and I have yet to run across anything that has challenged my gut feeling.

If anyone stabily living in the developed, so called “Western” world, is deeply rooted in the top 10% richest on the planet, then I would guess, that they also live in the top bracket for most depressed and unhappy.

It’s a shocking and perhaps overly bold statement, even for me, but the more I learn about our developed world, the businesses that run it, the governments that run it, the systems and ideals that run it, the more come away feeling that these people cannot be happy.

We’ve become a people that have overemphasized, to the point of mortgaging our own life and society away, our own selves, that somehow we are so important that the world spins on the axis of  our self. Like we have somehow managed to destroy our own soul in the quest for our notion of wealth, comfort, and life. Cultures change, societies change, people change, and so the concept of a 9-5 job isn’t wrong by any means; the concept of searching for our life’s purpose must be worldwide and one of those eternal questions that someone asked thousands of years ago standing where I’m sitting right now, but only in the Western world do we have the physical and material means to ignore that question. Only we have a billion forms of entertainment, the  supposed antidote to the working world. Only we could turn something potentially good like the Internet–something with the power to keep us connected–into a poison that hampers our ability to connect with each other physically as each generation grows not knowing what a life without text messaging is.

I suppose caring for the poor is actually easier. Yes, it requires more mental and physical work, but how does one dedicate their life to changing the modern day world? How do you go about deciding that one will change the lives of the BMW owner for the better? How do you even go about doing such a thing?

For the Christians who read this, I’ll take this one step further. What percentage of America do you think is really Christian? Who lives out their life in a way that God intended? I don’t think that percentage is that high. If it were, our country couldn’t possibly look the way it does now. That said, why don’t we feel the need to do anything about it?

We Don’t Read the Same Bible

I don’t mean to be sensationalist, but it’s something I found, maybe not shocking, but definitely eye-cathing.

I was flipping through a Chinese Bible the other day and noticed, the paragraph titles are different–and not just different, sometimes they’re not even in the same places.

In other words, when printing the thing, someone actually felt that certain passages had more relevance to what came before than what came after, in contrast to another editor.

I don’t mean to make mountains of mole hills; this really isn’t that big of a deal nor does it change much. But it does raise some interesting questions about the inerrantness about the interpretations of the Bible with regards to translation and language. I’m not suggesting that the Bible isn’t perfect, or that it isn’t factually reliable; still, I think it’s a reminder of how different people all across the world are and how they all differently view the same thing.

I think it’s one thing to hold up a Bible and boldly proclaim, “There are no errors in this book,” and another completely to say, “the Bible as it was written has no errors.” If you believe the Bible, which phrase are you going to be using?

Don’t Ask Me Why…

but today I started thinking about the uplifting question

If I knew I were going to die in a couple years, how would I live today? Tomorrow? What would I want to do?

I guess it doesn’t really change anything. My driving goal is still to help people, and to make their day better.

But gosh, if I knew I only had a couple years to do it, I think I would pack up and go to an orphanage. Help those kids build a new life, be the support that they’re supposed to have.

I would also consider going into a large city and opening a pseudo coffee shop, game room, mini library, and a “venting shelter” combined into one. The latter part being something like a psychological shrink’s den, you can come in and just vent and we’d support you. If you’ve ever heard the radio drama “Adventures in Odyssey,” it’d be exactly like Whit’s End. A fun place for kids and adults, and a refuge in the midst of a bustling city.

I’d also write. Maybe a screenplay. Maybe a novel. I feel like I have a lot of things I’d love to share. I just don’t know if they’re worth sharing.

But when the clock is ticking, that doesn’t seem to matter so much.

PR 101: The Customer Always Wins

If I ran a country it would be a mandate that everyone work a shitty ass job that nobody ever “dreams about”. It’d be a required course in high school and you’d have to take it every year. And then after you graduate from college you’d take it again before doing whatever else your life “calls” you to do. You could have the option of being a garbage collector, waiter, plumber or a checkout attendant at a supermarket.* And those would be just the basic courses.

And if after college someone still doesn’t get it drilled into their head that they don’t get to look down on anybody–no matter how low their job is perceived to be–they’d take a remedial course, at something like future SAT research.

This bothers me about our culture: we’re always having people serve us. It doesn’t matter if we’re eating at a restaurant, buying movie tickets, taking the bus or receiving mail. Someone is there making the world spin for us.

Okay, it’s not inherently a bad thing, but when you combine that with the idea that as customers we somehow deserve something, we start treating people less like people and more like invisible slaves who have no life of their own and should be unnoticed anyway. The people behind the desk, waiting on tables, standing behind the counter, the people who pick up our trash…they’re just lowlifes who deserve to be looked down upon aren’t they?

It’s like they exist solely to serve us; they’re all supposed to be there as if somehow we’re better than them because we’re the ones doing their “boss” a favor since we’re the ones paying for something.

You know what? It’s true. We are the ones paying for something and they’re the ones who are supposed to deliver. That’s their job.

But that doesn’t mean we get to be put ourselves on a high rocker and be an ass about it. Nobody gives a wooden nickel how important you think you are, when you’re at a restaurant you don’t get to throw a tirade at the waiter because he somehow got your order wrong.

I can’t think of a good way to end this, suffice to say, give some people some respect. They deserve it more than you do your 44.7% cooked steak.

* “fail” note: I realized I fell into my own trap of labeling these jobs with the amazingly graceful and positive tag of “shitty ass.” My point (I would think, obviously) is not to demean those jobs, but was to be overly biting in how I believe the general perception of these jobs is unfair.