Self Identity and the Pull of Public Perception
I am 40% Asian, 40% White, 10% Black, 80% misunderstood, and 100% done with giving into social pressures that try to push my life off course. Also, I can math, but this is a metaphor, so just roll with it.
My parents are Chinese-Vietnamese refugees that fled their homeland during the Vietnam war. They set up a life here and built it from scratch. Because of that I was born as a Calgarian in the great land of Canada. As a naive little kid I did things just because I thought it was fun and engaging. Was lucky enough to grow up with Nintendo and Playstation, had friends to visit and invite over, cable TV, and even good ol’ dial-up internet. The idea of identity and fitting in was not even close to the conscious part of my mind.
I grew up in the ‘ghetto of Calgary’ around Marlborough and Forest Lawn. It is close by to 17th Ave SE, officially called International Avenue, where it is filled with ethnic restaurants and supermarkets, as well as payday loans. Friends I had were White, Muslim, Vietnamese, Cambodian, Chinese, half-Black, Sikh, Aboriginal, and probably some I’m missing (Sorry I didn’t know the White backgrounds and there weren’t many Black kids). During all of this time I merely considered people just people. I just wanted to spend time with people and do fun things, which we did. Played soccer and basketball, Magic the Gathering, Final Fantasy, hung out at the mall and the gas station, had birthday parties. It was great.
I also watched a lot of prime time TV since it was the main family gathering of the day. TGIF was the favourite. Full House, Family Matters, Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Friends became a staple. They were all good fun and that’s all it really was.
My house was also filled with Hong Kong media. Endless ballads and replays of concert tours of HK pop. Chinese New Years tunes on repeat every year. HK dramas from the Asian rental place stacked one after the other in an pre-Netflix binge.
All of this was simply normal. It was part of the day to day experience.
In my teens, I started to distance myself from the Chinese culture. It started when I decided to drop out of Chinese school. None of it really stuck and it took up my Sunday so I sheepishly told my parents I didn’t want to go anymore. The HK stuff never really sat right with me. My music taste was, well, mediocre at the time, but I started getting drawn towards alternative rock (more accurately pop-rock) and hints of rap (ie. Eminem, Puff Daddy). My interest in films went towards Oscar-winning dramas, experimental stuff like Waking Life, and the world of mature anime. Ironically, though, my circle of friends in high school and university became increasingly Asian, but more of the whitewashed kind. Hockey, Thanksgiving turkey, Halloween and Christmas parties.
In university I went to psychology and philosophy when everyone else was in business and engineering. I picked up guitar with a couple of friends, and was the only one who stuck with it. My dreams were to write a book, make a movie, put out an album, give a TED talk, while everyone else seemed to want a stable career and a family. Ten years later, I’ve learned to balance this out with practical career oriented moves, but they are still my priority.
Looking back I was always different in some way. When I was with my Ex I mentioned that I felt different, but she would usually downplay it probably just to make me feel better. She was very social and when she interacted with others it was more natural somehow. They always liked her more than me. The few new friends I found tended to be more drawn to her than me, but since we were always together it wasn’t immediately obvious. Recently, I even started researching Autism more because I felt like there were social cues I was overlooking, and maybe I could relate somehow. It’s probably an insult to the Autism community for me to say that, yet that’s the degree to which I felt out of place.
I’m not Asian and conservative enough for my family. I’m not White enough since I can’t drink beer and am allergic to pets. Definitely not Black. Not even going to go there. In a city that is in love with the mountains, I opt to stay home and create things. As a computer science major I am not techie enough since I like to focus on the psychological impacts of code rather than the code itself. Overall, I’m pretty quiet and serious when a lot of people around me prefer to joke around and keep things lively.
I’ve always felt a pull, a pressure from every side of my life to be more of something, and less of myself. That in order to succeed, to fit in, to find a place, I should conform to some standard that I don’t necessarily agree with.
Take a look at this:
Which line matches the target line? The answer is obviously C. Anyone can see that unless they forgot to wear their glasses or something. Yet in this classic experiment 75% of people chose the wrong answer at least once. That’s stupid. Why would anyone do that? To understand why, let’s try it again.
You’re in a room with 7 other people. At first they all choose the right answer, and the whole thing seems like yet another boring experiment. Then part way through all 7 other people choose A. What do you do? Would you still choose C? According to the results, most people chose to doubt themselves in order to fit in. They questioned their own judgement simply because they of the pressure of those around them. There isn’t any evidence of exactly why, but it would be fair to say they didn’t want to feel stupid, to be wrong, to be isolated.
Humans are social creatures so it is only natural to trust one another to have the right answer or at least take them into heavy consideration. But what exactly happens when everyone around you has the wrong idea?
For most of my life I’ve went along with the crowd. I’ve been a follower, rather than an independent thinker, or a leader. I went along with whatever my friends wanted, with what my family wanted, with what was best for my partner. Whenever I did try to speak up I was filled with doubt, with anger and frustration, and fear of being isolated. It was always nerve-racking to speak in front of others, and my heart starts pounding just putting my hand up in class. But recently things have flipped on their heads. I prefer speaking up when no one else will. I prefer giving the presentations and leading the group. I would rather be seen and heard rather than fit in and be invisible.
At this point in my life, I’ve realized that, hey, maybe I am different, and that is what makes me who I am and gives my identity its value. I’ve been fortunate enough to meet people who have supported this perspective, and given me the chance to shine with the strengths I actually have rather than the strengths I should have. These amazing people are independent thinkers, headstrong, and forge through with their own sheer will. They inspire me to be myself, not in spite of the crowd, but that there is value in standing out from the crowd in and of itself.
I’m still not entirely sure which direction my life will end up going, but what I am sure of is that it’s ok for me to make decisions for myself instead of going with the pull of the public perception. This doesn’t mean I will ignore everyone around me and become a snob. What it does mean is that I have the choice whether or not to take people’s words into account, and whose words mean more than others. So, when everyone else is choosing the wrong line, I prefer to be part of the 25% who would rather pick the right one, because the answer is obviously C. C’mon!
