Slug Story
Tradition, discipline, respect‚Ķ those are the ideals forced upon me. As a son of immigrants misplaced by war, I was raised by parents who experienced a world completely different from my own. Growing up during times of war, my parents were forced to mature at a young age, therefore they expected me to do the same. Against a government that suppressed their citizens and ruled them with fear, they had to scrap away whatever they could at refugee camps and starve on boats. I was expected to be like them, independent. I was expected to study and get good grades without asking for help. I was expected to do all my chores without being taught. I was expected to be able to work the moment I was legally able to. In a way, my life was similar to Amy Tan’, being expected to be more successful than my parents who had less of a platform to start from. Looking back at this, I was a blessed. I learned to think for myself at a young age. Unlike most people from their generation, my parents embraced this idea of independent thinking. Because of this unlike most kids in my generation of Vietnamese Catholics I was taught to think for myself and challenge authority.
My parents also imposed Christianity upon me, and it became part of my identity whether I liked it or not. Similar to Anzaldua’ point that language changes with globalization, so does religion. When Christianity was adapted to the Vietnamese culture, it became more conservative. Social beliefs, such as no sex before marriage, divorce, or disrespect against my elders, were reinforced by Confucian culture. The first time I began to question the way I was raised was, when I found out that my best friend was homosexual. At the time, the Catholic Church was heavily against homosexual marriages, and my Vietnamese heritage also saw the act as taboo. I had an identity crisis forcing me to decide if I was the person my parents raised me to be or the person society wants me to be. At that part of my life everything I knew collapsed, I was confused of what was right and what was wrong. Additionally, I was in a Vietnamese Catholic catechism class surrounded by kids my age who embraced our religion and culture. I was confused, I felt different for actually questioning our fundamental heritage. During that time, I felt into a heavy depression not understanding what was going on around me. I began to question everything my parents taught me. Superstition and religion seemed fictional, and I rejected them and their teachings. My parents, of course, were furious of this decision. They threatened to not send me to college if I did not practice my religion. However, I decided to challenge them. I reminded them that if I did not choose to practice religion on my own free will there was no point to it. My parents considered my point and decided that I was old enough to make my own decision. This decision led me to not practicing my religion for two years. Ironically, however, I came back to practice the religion when I realized that I missed the Catholic community I grew up with
After I began questioning religion, I started to question my Vietnamese heritage and the Confucian beliefs within it. I began to reject their patriarchal teachings and challenged my parents’ political beliefs. At first, I thought my parents were uneducated, my father was a college drop out and my mother only had an associate’s degree. However as I grew older, I realized that my father was much more educated than I thought he was. He had attended the University of Melvin, the second best university in Australia at the time. I realized he was the one who wanted me to think for myself. That he was the one that was ahead of his generation, not me. With age, I learned that even though I did not agree with my parents’ worldview I could understand why they viewed the world in such a conservative way. Growing up oppressed by a communist party that claimed to be socialist, they would naturally swing to the opposite side of the spectrum politically. Despite our difference, I did carry on my parents work ethic. Hearing their life stories gave me a strong belief on the American Dream and made me believe that hard work will always be rewarded. My desire to excel in academics is also derived from my Vietnamese culture and their emphasis on education. Although I disagree with my parents’ disciplinary methods, they made me who I am today. Differences aside, I am grateful for what my parents did for me. From nothing, they worked hard enough to make enough money, to give me a comfortable life, and to pay for my tuition. They gave me everything I have, and despite how much I would like to admit it, I am a product of their hard work.