I grew up living in a different lifestyle than most Americans. I remember waking up asking myself ,“Why am I so  different from all of my friends?” What I should be asking is, “Why am I different from the people who share the same culture as me?” My culture dictates that the ideal man gets a job and becomes successful, wants to start a family, raise a son, and teach him to be strong and courageous to pass down the family name. I, however, orbit the idea of the social norm in our tradition culture of being Asian, not being completely part of the Teochew (chinese) culture yet I haven’t left it. Both of my parents tried to raise me to be the best at math and science so that I could go to college and become a professional doctor. As I grew older, I realized that being a doctor never interested me. Being a doctor was just an option, but making movies was something that has been in my mind as something I would want to do as a career for a very long time. As time thickened the air of maturity, I consulted myself and began to wonder what my parents’ opinion would be about my career goal of becoming a filmmaker.

I’ve lived the life of being an Asian American, who was raised by a pair of Chinese Cambodian immigrant parents. The American culture was never embraced with my parents and they haven’t adjusted to the norms of what the typical American would do in the United States. As a family, we have always strictly followed our multiculture of being both Chinese and Cambodian. From food to language to family roots, gender roles were never a conflict for my parents because of where they are from. It was as if they already knew what their responsibilities were and what they wanted to do in their future. My mother was raised to stay in a home to cook and clean, and my father was raised to survive hard times through many jobs and small businesses just to make an effort of living. Once they came to America to escape the war that was happening in Cambodia and Thailand, they thought about the possible “freedom” they could have in a new country. After having three children once moving here, they realize how my siblings and I grew up with are different than what they have experienced in their country. They keep telling us, “You don’t know how lucky you are to be born in America with more freedom. You don’t have to do what was expected to for you do back in our country.” They claimed, “You didn’t have to wake up four in the morning to work day and night and come back home to cook and clean the house.” My father would then sometimes tell my sister to sweep around the house and he would tell me to go unload and load the restaurant stocks with him. This is when I realized that the gender roles are becoming a mental concept and what acceptance is for a typical Asian family. I have to learn to accept both options myself as a responsibility. Masculinity hides what I want to do in the future without being judged by others and especially my parents.

What I wanted to be was a professional filmmaker. Directing a film and working with cameras was a dream of mine since childhood. Ever since my parents allowed me to watch horror movies as a child, they told me that it couldn’t be real because the camera man would have been killed the minute the movie started. It brought a question to my attention: “What if I could make movies like that and understand how people make movies.” Unfortunately my parents disagreed to my thought process. They said, “Making movies is a waste of time and it’s not as fun as being a doctor. You get to study for money. Once you become a doctor, you can help people. That helps your good karma and you don’t have to struggle with losing anything.” The words stabbed me like a burning hot knife gutting my heart out.  As their son, they want me to be better than who they were. As the oldest of the siblings, my parents only supported me to be highly skilled at math and science, training me to do multiplication when I turned four. My mom thought it would help if I learned the multiplication table of two in Cambodian as well. They set the expectation so high, but after reaching the seventeenth year of my life I feel as if I was the one who is backstabbing my parents of their hard work raising me for something they didn’t expect. Filmmaking to them seemed unmanly and non-educational in a traditional Asian family.

For generations, my family has been very traditional with gender roles and how masculine a son could be. America is still changing the norm of having a diverse culture and gender is becoming a loose idea of how we consider our identity to be. From New York Times, The Boys Are Not All Right, the author stated, “It’s funny because it shouldn’t be that easy to rob a man of his masculinity, but it is.”(1). When describing what masculinity looks like around different cultures, Asian men are very vulnerable of how masculine they are. Whether it is a situation of life and death or something smaller, we accept the fact that we can be light hearted in the inside. Most men won’t show how they feel as if there was a secret male language that could not be spoken. In The Boys Are Not All Right by New York Times, the author mentioned, “They are trapped, and they don’t even have the language to talk about how they feel about being trapped, because the language that exists to discuss the full range of the human emotion is still viewed as sensitive and feminine.”(2). Not showing any sign of being feminine, males consider themselves not vulnerable or sensitivity. Cooking and cleaning in a household would be considered feminine and ladylike, but in my case I cook and clean as a practice to when I leave for college. From Coming Home Again by Chang-Rae Lee, Lee wrote, “She shooed me away in the beginning, telling me that the kitchen wasn’t my place…” I find the skills of cooking to be essential to my everyday life, rather than focusing on how masculine I needed to be in order for myself to be accepted in certain societies. Sometimes masculinity is viewed as “life or death” for mankind, especially when I have two different cultures to fit into. I feel as if I live in two different lives, one at home being some of the Asian expectations, and one socially in the American society where people are more accustomed to the American Culture.

What is considered the most valued aspects of being Asian is that we surround ourselves with our culture and our “identity”. Also being a American citizen, I have to consider the cost of what is accepted of the American society and what is accepted within the traditional Asian family. Playing two different people is hard enough as it is, and trying to bring one culture into another is a pessimistic goal.  What I want is a lot different from what other people expect, but it isn’t always the case where two diverse cultures can go hand in hand with each other. However, I can live two lives but the only assumption I have is that I have to expect the unexpected. I will expect disappointment from certain people, and others will expect disapproval.

Work Cited

Black, Michael Ian. “The Boys Are Not All Right.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 21 Feb. 2018, www.nytimes.com/2018/02/21/opinion/boys-violence-shootings-guns.html.

Introduction

The main goal of my written essay is to a point of view of someone who speaks multiple languages. People have different experiences with languages and how it affects their knowledge of education. I wanted to express the issues that my parents see and how I experience a daily life being a multi linguist.

Hidden In Plain View Of A Multi Linguist

Language is a beautiful way to communicate with people In both spoken and written ways. Most languages have culture behind them and sometimes are much different than others. Although, language is sometimes referred to as person’s identity because it is how others see how well educated they are. Education plays a huge part in how a person’s identity can classify how successful they might be in the future. A person without the knowledge of learning how to read, write and properly speak can effectively cause someone to look down upon them.

In Mother Tongue, Amy Tan discusses the way her mother uses English, that it is “fractured” or not as fluid as how other Americans speak. She grew up influenced by her mother’s speech and she adapted into the language of “broken” English. Tan is first generation Asian American, and readers can see the view of point of how the author experiences her mother speaking English is very different in comparison with most Americans. She believed that it wasn’t her mother’s fault for not speaking English fluidly as she is an immigrant who is making an effort to effectively communicate, and Tan claims Americans dismiss her mother’s speech just because it is not standard, writing, “I’ve heard other terms, ‘limited English,’ for example.”

Language has always been incorporated to how well educated a person can be. How well a person is taught, shows in their knowledge and their mindset. In I Just Wanna Be Average by Mike Rose, the author’s work describes his personal experience of going to college as an Italian American. His environment was different than others. His identity was a label of how his professors would consider him as a student and the work he turns in. Rose mentions that education does not have the best system: “School can be a tremendously disoriented place.” He believes that sometimes schools can judge based on identity and the person’s origin.  

Growing up as an Asian American, there are unique things to learn that are essentials to life. My main issue is my primary language, Teochew. I was told that English was an American language, and that the only way to be able to communicate in America was to twist my tongue to English. However, my life at home is different. The language that I speak at home is Teochew, a dialect of Traditional Chinese. It is one of the Chinese dialects that still exist, but barely a fraction of the world knows how to use it. Sometimes speaking the language made me feel like I was different from the world around me. Here in America, the most common language is English

I remember a time when my dad and I were coming back from Jetro, a restaurant depot. As we came back, my dad was driving and I sat in the passenger seat. Everytime we drive back home as the sun begins to set across a highway, we have a long discussion about life and ways I can be independent. One of the discussions that we talked about was about the culture that my parents grew up with. The best conversation is when one topic become another. Though, coming from Jetro, we were tired and exhausted from lifting supplies into the trunk of our mini van. My mood was stressed and tense from lifting so often and my arms sore from shoulder to shoulder. My dad started talking about how my sister’s future would might become if she didn’t start being wise about her own surrounding.

My dad said, “I fear for her life. What might become of her when she has a husband and a child of her own. If she doesn’t start now, she wouldn’t be able to help her own family. She is powerless. Her intelligence is poor. She could barely communicate with me in Teochew words.”

I told my father that I didn’t know I feel. I told him that I have experienced times when she was being lazy and doesn’t want to do things herself.

My father stated, ”She relies on others to help her get through many things that she wants. If she doesn’t put effort in her education and worry about her future, she won’t have a future.”

I agreed. I sighed and watched the remaining rays of light glow in red and orange across the thin clouds from the sunset.

The conversation began to switch about how much of the Teochew we each knew. My father pointed out that I was fortunate that I had parents who was able to teach me to be bilingual. There were a lot of perks to be able to speak another language than English.

He told me, “When there are times of trouble, you can communicate without others knowing what you are saying. If you were hostage and you see someone with a gun, you can warn people who speak the same language to be cautious of the armed person. You don’t want to be the first ones dead. Having to learn two languages is a gift. The gift should be used wisely.”

He explained why I was lucky to be born in America and have a school to get education from. My father never had the ability to learn in a school because his parents never had the money to pay for school. He was one of the children that hid behind an open window to be able to listen to what the teachers were teaching. He ended up with a bit of education to start with. He wasn’t able to read and write properly, so speaking Thai, Teochew, and a bit of Khmer (Cambodian) was part of his identity. Now in America, he learns a bit of English to be able to communicate with the people around him. My question that I keep asking him was, “Why do not a lot of people not speak Teochew?” Most of the people that I have met spoke popular languages such as: Khmer, English, Spanish, Cantonese, or Mandarin. After years of researching, there were people in certain areas that was able to understand and communicate with Teochew. Not everyone is perfect in the dialect and accent but they have a sense of understanding.

Citations:

Rose.pdf. http://userwww.sfsu.edu/mmartin/rose.pdf. Accessed 11 Dec. 2017.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B8Cvq7ioloJpZGNkYTM0ZjUtNDczZC00NWE2LWEyMTQtMjgzZDRhYTAzNTBi/view

“Our Fears and Treasures” was written for the purpose of showing what it felt like to overcome the anxiety and fear each and everyone has. I wrote the memories of my point of view to describe what loyalty felt like in a way that friendship can still bond. I tried to accomplish the idea that memories can still be descriptive after so many years. It is within ourselves that memories aren’t very detailed but the emotions are. Though, writing to an estimated limit was a challenge, detailed emotion are worth more than gold.

Our Fears and Treasures

Everyone acquires something and treasures it for a lifetime. In some cases, people are born with a treasure. That treasure is within ourselves and it is what makes us who we are. Blood. We are made out of water and colored with pigments from the red blood cells. When the time comes, we lose the treasures. We were born to die. In some cases, treasure can mean something totally different to others.

Everything seemed to suit me well. Nothing bothered me. Prioritizing my education over socializing, I was alone until there was a new student that came into middle school. His name was Omar. He approached me first. During recess, I always sat at the benches to keep myself from playing any sports or getting anywhere near a group of people, especially the teachers.

A couple of years later, Omar and I are still loyal friends. We have stood by each other’s sides, but happiness wasn’t the only emotion I felt. My grandfather on my mother’s side lived with me for the past several years. After he recovered from a serious cold, he decided to move with my uncle in August of 2015. A couple of weeks later, my mother whimpered, “Your grandpa passed away.”  I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I spent the rest of the day in silence.

The school year began a few weeks after my grandfather passed. Omar came over to me noticing that I have been ignoring him. He noticed my mood change and my isolation. I explained my situation and he felt sorry for me. As a friend, he changed subjects until he found a way for me to smile again.

“Oh by the way, happy late birthday!”

I didn’t cry, I stared at him and smiled instead.

“Thank you buddy,” I said softly.

October came fast. My class had to write an essay. I wrote my name and the date in the corner, “October 15, 2015” and underlined it in red. I looked out the window. The clouds grew grey and dark, fogging up the windows. Looking at my blank sheet of lined paper, I sighed and started my assignment. After the day had passed, my father drove to pick me up with a surprise.

My father addressed me. “Liang, my dad passed away.” Tears flowed beneath his specs.

The next day, I came to school early as usual and was Omar waiting for me. A tear dropped down my face slowly. Instead of walking to Omar sitting in the cafeteria, I ran to the restroom. Omar watched me and then followed.

“You can cry on me. I’m here for you,” his soft voice helped calm me down as he hugged me tightly. I thought deeply on how to repay him back for all the emotional support he has been giving me.  

A couple of years have passed again. The third year of high school began. On Saturday, I took a morning shower and came back to my room to get dressed. I checked my phone and at the same time, I received a text from Omar. It was a group text. There were four other unknown numbers that I have never seen before.

“Hey, I really need someone to talk to right now.”

“I’m here.” I first replied.

Suddenly in a split second, my phone started vibrating and Omar’s contact picture appeared. I quickly swiped to answer the call.

“Hey! What’s up buddy?” I said playfully.

“Ben! Help me!” Omar cried. I froze in time for a second. Hearing Omar cry for the first time shattered my heart.

“Bro, speak to me.” I demanded, trying to get every information out as possible.

“My aunt passed away.” Omar whimpered. He bursted into tears, hearing him shaking, body curled, creating a tight echo in his voice. “She was my grandmother. My grandma is literally going insane. I don’t know what to do!”

I sighed. The only way I could calm a friend I hadn’t seen in so long was to give a lecture. He was lost for words and his depression took over him.

“Look man, I’m sorry for your loss. I know it’s hard for you to take in the message that you have lost a loved one but my suggestion is for you to cry. There is no other way to resolve your situation at the moment. Forget manhood! Humans are designed to cry when they are stressed. Think of this, imagine how happy your aunt would be if she, in the heavens, knew that you were crying for her. You didn’t forget her, okay? There will be times that she will cross your mind again and you will cry. Go in a bathroom and cry if you feel embarrassed. How do you think I felt when I lost both of my grandfathers? No teacher was there to help me. It was you that helped me, so I’m here to help you back.”

“I understand” Omar said breathing heavily. “Thank you. Thank you, Ben.”

“Yeah, no problem. If you need me call me, I’m here.” I said confidently.

“I can’t thank you enough.” Omar was finally lightened up. He stopped shaking and his voice became light as a feather. I was able to still hear him crying softly as he sniffed while breathing.

“Okay, I have to go for now, but I’m always available to talk.”

Omar thanked me again and hung up over the phone. As for me, it was a treasure for me to help out a sincere friend. I was finally able to repay what he had done for me in the past to conquer my depression. It made me feel like I was able to unlock my safe and take some of my gold for Omar’s treasure chest. We both lost someone we loved. That was our treasure. It felt like a phoenix emerging from the flames as this long battle. We both burned our past for new ones.

Una Oda a Adrian Castrejon y sus oficiales

Guapos, bravo, y  joven

Cuando yo te veo pienso en la guerra

Me haces llorar porque los ellos son muy jóvenes y los son van guerra

Better Together

“Umm… this is awkward don’t you think? I mean class is over and the teacher has left. Should we be here? I mean, yeah, the school doesn’t lock up until eight tonight but doesn’t it seem too quiet?”

*deep sigh*

“Sure, I’ll talk now in here but I have to leave in about an hour. You said you wanted to ask me something important, so I guess it is better to get it over now than later, right?”

*pause*

“Hmm? What was that? What type of people do I hang out with? Well… I don’t have a certain group of people nor certain person to hang out with. I am able to pop in a group of gossiping people. Then there is the Asian Group where all food is good. I love Asian food. I am what I eat haha. A lot of people have trust in me. Do you not have a group to hang out with?”

*pause*

“Oh, I see. Well the thing is, you don’t need to be in a group to be popular. Like I said, I don’t have a certain group I hang out with. Just be the shadow and find out you think is going to be a great friend to you. Personally, I have been in depression for almost four years. People thought I was creepy and had no life in school. We are in high school now and there are people from all over the place. It’s not like there isn’t anyone that will be perfect and be with you all the time. I struggle with that same problem too.”

*pause*

“ I see… I’m sorry to hear that your friends abandoned you. I was also abandoned because my secret was spilled out a while ago. If you think I’m that popular, then you’re wrong. I treat people with kindness and respect so that I can receive the same back, but they all take advantage of me and think that it okay to take my life like their own personal pawn. Those people who keep smiling at me and those who seems like my friends who treats with respect are FAKE! Those smiles on their faces were just to show me that they are happy with my existence, but inside those eyes of their souls they don’t care if I was around or not.”

*short pause*

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you my secret. Well, hahaha it is not a secret anymore. Most people know already. I just don't want to see the same damn expression from another person! I had enough, honestly.”

*blank stare for a few seconds*

“No, I’m not lonely, I’m just more independent and the type of person who doesn’t stick to a certain group of friends. Tyler, I  don’t get noticed by people a lot. You by far this year are the only person who would talk to me and have a decent conversation with. I thank you for this moment.”

*pause*

“I have to go, I’m sorry to interrupt the conversation, but I have an urgent text about an issue at home! But we can pick this conversation up tomorrow if that is okay with you?”

*pause*

“Okay cool! I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then. “

*narrator pauses and looks back at character #2*

“Wait… I just had a thought… we are both in the same position, would you like to be my friend? We can always hangout whenever. We both have the same classes together and the same lunch periods. We can be our own independent group, am I right? You seem like a cool guy to be honest.”

*Pause*

“OKAY! Awesome! I’ll definitely look forward to our friendship! I promise you that you won’t regret this! Thank you for this talk! It put me out of my comfort zone and finally be able to talk to someone with a real conversation! Okay! See ya tomorrow and thank you again Tyler!”

Mi vida de Cambodia

Soy yo Benjamin Seing

El niño de una familia muy triste

Soy completo y soy Budista

Un niño sin mis abuelos

Producto de Cambodia

Un elefante amable

Yo veo de maldad

Veo la oscuridad y miedo de escuela

Saboreo el dulces de las frutas

Oigo la musica de naturaleza

Toco muchas hoja de papel

Yo huelo libertad

Hablo muchos en inglés en escuela

Escribo en inglés es muy dificil

Paso tiempo hago mucha tarea

Entiendo muchos en inglés y español

Somos productos de Cambodia

Somos Cambodia y Americanos

Hablamos Teochew, Inglés, y Español:

La lengua de arroz y pad thai

No somos Americanos, vivimos en Filadelfia

No somos Cambodia. Cambodia está en nosotros, porqué allí no tenemos hogar

Mí padrés están en la major océan y somos completos.

Correr es mi destino

Destino de amigos

The Board game title “Who killed King Duncan” is a fun, challenging, and  mental game for all ages. This board game is 4 players minimum. My partner, Lauren Matthews, and I decided we wanted to do a board game because a board game is the best way to find out about Who killed King Duncan . In out board game, the main objective is to use the quotes from the book as clues to find out King Duncan’s killer. The first person to guess the right killer with all the clue cards gone from in the center of the board, wins the game. The board game uses quotes from all over the the book, including the “suspects” quotes,  provided in the game. The suspects in the board Lady Macbeth, Malcolm and Donald, And Macbeth as himself.

There are four stages in the board game. Stage one is King Duncan’s  room, Stage two is the Ballroom, Stage three is Malcolm and Donalbain room, and Stage four is Lady Macbeth and Macbeth’s room. Just like in the book, all the suspects that was named, was in the house with King Duncan when his death was announced. Each player rolls the die on their turn and move on the board to the number which was roll. If the player who has the turn rolls on a  square “goblet” they pick up a clue card with the goblet in the center of the board. On the card there is certain quotes chosen from the book to that help determine who is King Duncan’s killer.

When the player at least has four of the clue cards, they have the opportunity to guess the killer or continue to gather more clue cards. If the player guesses the killer wrong twice, they automatically lose the game. To make the game just a bit challenging, there are “hot spots”. The hot spots are spots on the board where the player either moves forward or moves backward. For example on of the hot spots could be “move three space back” this prevent the player from winning.

Working with my partner has been a great way to over look Macbeth in a fun game form. Some things we had found challenging was finding time and creating dates to do the project. There wasn’t no lack of communication in this project. We found it really easy to make the board and the design of the board. We really wanted to base the board off of the game “Clue” but it was hard because we didn’t want to steal the idea . So we came together and we kind of used the layout of the board.

Game rule!

• 4 players

• - Pick a character figure.

• - everyone is a victim

• - Place the character figure on the start

• - Roll the dice

• - If you land in the same room too long you are automatically assumed to be the killer

• - Take a clue when you have guessed it right

• - Take the space as an advantage

Soy Kaitlyn

A menudo, soy

Chèvere y perezosa

Depende del dia, me encanta salir con amigos

Ir al cine y andar en patineta

No soy ni boba

Ni bruja

Yo soy...