I was born in Taiwan and lived there for 7 years, at a time when Taiwan and China viewed each other with mutual hostility. As a little girl, I watched television dramas depicting concentration camps and torture scenes of communist China. I grew up singing a different national anthem. I learned to proclaim myself “Taiwanese”. If I said I were “Chinese” I learned to include a disclaimer that I meant “ethnically” Chinese, not “nationally” Chinese.
Despite learning to be suspicious of Chinese people from China, when I came to the United States, I was exposed to more Chinese people from China than chinese people from Taiwan. I didn’t plan it this way, but I suspect the universe has a funny way of forcing me to face my learned prejudice. During graduate school, I made friends with Chinese graduate students. We studied together and ate together.
One of my favorite buddies is Yangzhou, whom I met in Neoplasia class and called “Yang” (he was a molecular biology major, I was a cancer biochemistry major). Once we each had to give an oral presentation of a research paper in front of the class. I haphazardly prepared my presentation and was counting on my ability to act like I knew what I was talking about (“cockiness”) to compensate for my lack of depth in preparation. Afterwards, Yang called me on it when I asked him what he thought (“You were totally bullsh*tting!” he said. I grinned sheepishly and said, “I know.”).
Yang listened when I told him about my guy troubles (and I had many). He would sometimes shake his head but he never judged me. He liked rock singer Cui Jian. And AC/DC. He really wanted an electric guitar. Yang did not fit the stereotype of “China Chinese” I had in my head. I probably did not fit the stereotype of “Taiwan chinese” he may have in his head. When Yang relocated to Northern California a few years ago for an industry scientist position, my husband and I were visiting NoCal for the holidays and we met up with him. My husband and Yang compared notes about me:
Cass: What was Jane like in graduate school?
Yang: Oh, she can be very cold. Until you get to know her.
Cass: Yup. Sounds about right.
Jane: What the –?! Yea, OK.
Political differences and agendas have a way of creating prejudicial divides even when you are of the same race, color, and ethnic descent.
Maybe one of the reasons why I ended up here in the U.S. is to unlearn the prejudice that I was indoctrinated with as a little girl.
[This entry was inspired by...]
… a Wisconsin public radio program (To The Best of Our Knowledge), when I came across a Chinese rock and roll song I knew and liked by legendary Cui Jian (崔健) called, “Nothing to my name”. The song became an anthem for protesting students during the Tiananmen Square incident in 1989 that became a massacre.
A clip of the song, as well as translations of the lyrics and an interview with Cui Jian himself (who spoke excellent English) is available via this real-media streaming radio link.
(the video sound quality is really poor but gives you a flavor of the song; you may want to turn down the volume because the flute pitch is quite sharp)
