Yanwen’s blog

Today is 端午节. (Duānwǔ Jié), the Dragon Boat Festival in China. Enjoy the day!

Last Wednesday evening, my youngest sister and I talked for a long time. She mentioned that she couldn't enjoy school reunion gatherings because she couldn't relax when surrounded by many people. She is oversensitive to other people's judgments and comments. In fact, she can't recall ever having enjoyed herself in a big group.

She said, "I can't be like you. I know you enjoy going to these gatherings and meeting people. I'm most relaxed when I'm with family members." I reminded her, "You were not like this before. You used to have many friends and enjoyed being with them. What has happened?"

She agreed that she had changed and had been cocooning herself more and more inside her security shell. The more she dreads meeting people, the more she avoids it. That seems like a vicious cycle.

Is this what people call social anxiety or social phobia? I don't really know, but it bears some similarities.

First, those with social anxiety seem to care excessively about being judged by others, feeling embarrassed, losing face, or being humiliated. Second, social anxiety often develops over time, initially stemming from past negative experiences in social settings or past traumatic experiences.

Perhaps my sister began to change when we moved from Tianjin to Beijing during her teenage years. She told me she missed her Tianjin friends after the move. Perhaps she experienced rejections, and her self-confidence suffered a hit in the new social environment.

The fact that both of us have changed, almost as if we’ve exchanged places, demonstrates that social anxiety is not genetic in her case. Most importantly, it shows that change is possible.

I'm glad she has realized why she doesn't enjoy meeting people. "Your mind is too burdened with worries about what others think," I told her.

Our conversation made me reflect on the challenges many people face with social anxiety. Understanding and acknowledging these feelings is a crucial first step toward addressing them. By discussing it openly, we can help those who struggle to feel more comfortable in their own skin, and confident in social situations. I'm proud of my sister for recognizing her feelings, and I hope she can find ways to break out of her self-built cocoon and enjoy social interactions more in the future.

Finally, all this reminds me that we can't let the past experiences define us. It is up to us to choose how to react to our past. With understanding, support, and determination, anyone has the hope of overcoming social anxiety and rediscovering the joy of connecting with others.

Today I'm going to write something like a meta-blog, a reflection on one of my daily activities—writing. Surprisingly the thought behind is relevant to a lot more than writing.

Last year, I came across a phrase while I was involved with an online parenting group. It describes an issue faced by the second generation of immigrants: "自我身份认同" (zì wǒ shēn fèn rèn tóng), meaning "self-identity" or "self-identification." It encompasses how you perceive, identify, and define yourself—the sum of your beliefs, values, and ethnic and cultural background.

As a matter of fact, it's not just the second generation of immigrants who face this self-identity question. Take myself for example: I often think about this everyday -- how do I see myself when I’m writing? What do I identify myself as when I make my voice heard on the internet, sharing my thoughts, experiences, and interpretations of events with the world? Do I identify myself as a writer or more than a writer? What is the "more" part?

Self-identity is important in everything we do. What I identify myself as influences and determines what I write and how I write. Like everything else, writing is just an activity, a means to an end. The end is the identity that I see in myself and want the world to see in me.

Take another example: when you go to work every day, do you identify yourself as a 打工仔 (dǎ gōng zǎi), someone who works hard for other’s dreams or someone with his own dream?  Your self identity determines how you spend your time there. Different self-identity leads to different mindset and attitude.

What we identify ourselves as determines what we do online, be it writing or videoing. In today's world, where many seek internet celebrity status, continually reminding myself of my self-identity helps me stay anchored and focused, ensuring that my writing is authentic and meaningful. After all, an authentic voice should matter in the end.

Ultimately, self-identity shapes our actions, interactions, and expressions. By staying grounded in who we are, we bring a unique and genuine perspective to everything we do. For me, this means writing with integrity and purpose, making each piece not just a reflection of my thoughts but a testament to my true self. In a world where authenticity can often be elusive, staying true to my self-identity is respectful to both my readers and myself.

My sister and I recently talked about our father, who passed away before turning 58. There was a heavy cloud of sadness during our conversation. Someone once mentioned that I look more and more like my father, but we don't know how our father would have looked in his 60s or beyond.

We have been striving to live healthily and longer than he did. Now, all three of us siblings have reached age 60, but none of us has achieved the career heights that our father reached in his short 57 years.

It is amazing that a teenager boy walked out of his mountainous village and accomplished so much in his lifetime? Our father must have had something extraordinary in him that his children don't have. My sister said, "It is said that one family is blessed with one outstanding person once in a while."

My father lived through some special years in Chinese history. Each generation has its own unique challenges. My father met the challenges of his generation, and now, with his legacy guiding and motivating us, we are trying to meet the challenges of our era, even if we might not reach the same career heights he did.

My sister and I talked about how our father self-taught himself many subjects through reading and his passion for learning. Discussing this serves as a source of inspiration for us to pursue lifelong learning and strive for excellence in our own lives.

We are also aware that whatever we do today, we are creating a legacy for the next generation. Though we may not match the accomplishments of our father, we can still leave a unique legacy, just as he did.

Reflecting on our father's life and achievements helps us appreciate his fine qualities and the importance of perseverance, courage, learning and resilience. His legacy continues to guide us when we face our own trials and triumphs in life.

As we navigate our own journey, we honor his memory by striving to meet our challenges and keep generating value in our own way, ensuring that the good qualities he instilled in us endure for future generations.

While I was in the locker room after swimming, I heard a mother and her daughter doing mental math, like calculating 48 times 69. My attention was instantly drawn to them. They looked like they might be of Indian descent, mother with strong accent and the girl seemed to be still in elementary school. Wow! Way better than me. I was amazed at how good they were at mental math.

This brought back memories of my efforts with my own children, teaching them the 9x9 multiplication table while driving them to school, reciting ancient Chinese poems, telling them historical stories, or singing Chinese songs while taking evening walks. We were poor graduate students, lowest with resources and later we made a meager income when our children were little. Yet, whatever knowledge I had stored in my brain, I never miss a second to share with them. My parents used to criticize me for 好为人师 (hào wéi rén shī), eager to teach others. Of course they were right.

This Indian mother and daughter reminded me so much of the Asian parents I know, who value both time and teaching, seizing every moment for education. Next time I meet my Korean student, I will ask her if she does the same.

I think this also speaks loudly about a part of Asian culture. Firstly, it emphasizes the importance of learning. Secondly, it all starts within the family. Thirdly, parents sow the seeds of learning in the minds of their children when they are very young. No wonder so many Asian kids do well in school. It all begins with families that prioritize and value education.

Reflecting on these experiences, it's as clear as the daylight that the parents’ dedication to learning and teaching within the family plays a very crucial role in a child's academic success.

Additionally, it's not just formal education at school that kids learn from; it's also the everyday moments that parents use to instill knowledge and values.

By valuing education and making it a central part of family life, we can help our children develop the skills and confidence they need to succeed in life.

This cultural emphasis on learning is a powerful testament to the impact of parental involvement and the lifelong benefits it brings to the children.

A few days ago, I went to the Post Office. On my way back, I passed an elementary school. It was school dismissal time, and I saw parents picking up their children.

I noticed a young Asian boy walking beside his mother, who tried to talk to him. I guessed she was asking him about school, but the boy seemed to prefer keeping a bit of distance from her, looking somewhat embarrassed by her presence. There were other kids around, maybe his school friends.

I imagine the mother and child must be in completely different cultural and mental zones. They might not fully understand each other’s zone. There appears to be an invisible barrier between them. Perhaps the boy doesn't want to be seen with his mother by his classmates. Maybe he wants to preserve a perfect image of himself in their minds, the image of a normal American boy like one of them, without a foreign-accented parent.

This scene reminds me of my own son when he was in elementary school. Did I ever try to understand how he spent his day in an American environment or how he felt walking beside me, a mother with a strong foreign accent? I don't remember. I do remember how, each time we went to his school, my children would tell me, "Mom, let me do the talking." I usually respected their preferences.

Reflecting on this incident has made me realize the importance of understanding and communication between parents and their children, especially when cultural differences exist.

It's crucial to acknowledge and address the unique challenges that children of immigrant parents might face. By opening up a dialogue and being empathetic to the children, parents can help bridge the gap and create a more supportive and understanding environment for the kids. Most importantly, take the time to connect with your young children about their feelings and experiences in this aspect.