NonStick World: Pam Kong's Weblog

I always thought it was tough growing up Chinese American: Chinese at home and American everywhere else. It wasn't until recently that I realized it was and is infinitely harder for my parents.

My parents immigrated to the US from China and Hong Kong over 30 years ago so that their children could have a better life. They left behind everything they knew, family and friends, and moved to a land of foreign languages and cultures. Their only solace was that they could base their new life on their traditions.

The dissonance was not apparent to myself and my siblings until my niece's 12 day celebration. My sisters and I always wondered why my mother was so put out when she cooked healing foods for us after we had our babies. We chalked it up to my mom being a Cantonese mom. She ruled with an iron fist of general dissatisfaction.

Apparently, according to Chinese tradition, our mother-in-laws were supposed to take care of us. Cook us the healing foods. Prepare for and invite guests to the newborn's 12 day celebration. But, my mother had to take on this responsibility because our mother-in-laws were not doing it. They either didn't know how or didn't want to be bothered. She took on a role that was not hers and for which she would get no thanks.

In Chinese tradition, when a woman marries, her parents relinquish all rights. The woman's well-being is the responsibility of her husband and his family. If he and his family do not care for her, tough. Her parents have no say. People would frown upon my mother for stepping in to take care of my sisters and me.

This is what my parents had to struggle with. Do they choose tradition, passed down through generations and over thousands of years, all they know? Or do they choose their children's welfare? Fortunately, my parents chose us, just like they did over 30 years ago.