Heritage and roots
Full Circle
by Jian Ping

   I recently read President Obama’s “Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance.” I was deeply
touched and in many ways, overwhelmed by his life story leading to the time he enrolled at Harvard Law School.
It was a journey of discovery for me. The struggles he had with his identify as a young man, the racial
discrimination he encountered and the search for his roots in Kenya were subjects that resonate and issues we
can all reflect upon. He wrote with eloquence and clarity and his reflection was evocative and candid. The full
circle he was able to come to in his search for identity is source of inspiration for us all. As immigrants in the    
U.S., we face the same issues of identify, cultural heritage, and roots.
   I was not conscious about my Chinese heritage until I settled in the U.S. The different language, culture, and
the “Asian” box I checked every time I filled out a form reminded me of my place as a foreigner in this country.
But being a first generation immigrant who moved to the U.S. as an adult, I managed to adapt and accept this
new culture and society without feeling the need to shed my Chinese self. I came as a graduate student and
made the choice to stay. I encountered many difficulties in establishing myself along the way, as most
immigrants do, but in due time, I overcame the hurdles and became a professional working in business dealings
related to China. My background of growing up in China was an asset in my career and I welcomed the
opportunities of getting exposed to new ways of thinking and behavior. The differences between the two cultures
sometimes collided, catching me in the middle. But I was able to find a balance and learned to embrace both
perspectives.

   When it comes to the second generation of immigrants, however, I find the issue of heritage and choice can often be sources of conflict. I remember my
acquaintance with Miss Lee when I first started working in the Company’s branch office in New York. She worked for me as a part-time assistant and
meanwhile, pursued her passion of becoming a performing artist. Lee was born and raised in the U.S., but of Korean descent. She was tall and her
lustrous dark hair fell loosely upon her shoulders, swinging left and right as she walked swiftly. She was polite and soft-spoken, but strong-willed and
efficient in her work. As we got to know each other, she revealed to me her regret that she grew up fighting against her Asian heritage.
   Lee’s parents immigrated to the U.S. from South Korea. Lee was their oldest child and they wanted very much for her to embrace their culture,
particularly the Korean language and the traditional customs. They exerted extra efforts to train her. She protested and as she grew older, rebelled against
them. She refused to study Korean and perform the role they wished for her. She preferred the independence and freedom her American peers enjoyed and
didn’t want to be different from the mainstream. Further-more, she feared being regarded as stereotypical and amiable Asian girl, rather than as an
individual. Eventually, the tension between her parents and her became so strong that she had to leave home. It was only after she graduated from
college that she began to be curious about her roots and interested in learning Korean and Korean culture. She struggled with her identity and volunteered
much of her free time working with children of poor immigrants and the impoverished, mostly in Harlem. Even while her relationship with her parents
remained estranged, she advised her younger sister to study Korean and embrace their heritage.
   Later, I ran into similar issues raising my daughter in the U.S. and found that many of my Chinese friends encountered the same problems with their
children. We sent them to Saturday Chinese schools, only to find that after years of language study, their Chinese remained rudimentary. I continued to hit a
wall as I tried to instill “Chinese ways,” like the upmost dedication to studies, respect for authority and elders, and devotion to family. She, like Lee,
wanted to merge with the mainstream and leave her Chinese identity behind. She eventually gave up the study of Chinese and demanded her right to
make decisions and choices on her own.
   Like Lee, college changed her. Upon completing her junior year in Europe and being exposed to multiple cultures and languages she came to
appreciate her Chinese heritage. She expressed a renewed interest in studying Chinese and more recently, took the initiative to take private Chinese
lessons. I was delighted when she accepted a job that required dealings with people from different countries and cultures, including China. I feel she has
finally come full circle and taken seriously her identity and heritage.
   I couldn’t forget the last scene in President Obama’s book. After spending weeks with his extended family in Kenya and traveled to visit many relatives,
he returned to his grandmother’s hut. As members of the family joined together, talking and partying, he walked to the backyard where the tombs of his
grandfather and father lay. He sat down between the two and wept for a long time. He didn’t reveal the emotion or thoughts he had at the moment, but
stated that he felt he had come full circle. Perhaps he meant that his two worlds, black and white, African and American, locked into full circle at that
moment for him, and that the connection he reached provided the firm footing he needed to come to terms with his roots and make him feel whole.   
I realize that we all take journeys of our own to find our footings in society, especially in an adopted country as immigrants. Only when we are mature
enough to embrace the heritage and roots of our past and accept the culture of the present, we can truly accept ourselves as who we are and establish
our footholds.  

Jian Ping is author of “Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China.” Visit www.mulberrychild.com for more information or her blog, www.smearedtype.com for
feedback and comments.