Asian American X: An Intersection of Twenty-First Century Asian American Voices

27. Reminiscings

27 Reminiscings Shiuan Butler Signi‹cant moments in my life that changed me forever and I will remember as long as I live, even with my shitty memory: 1. I have three memories of the time before I was six years old. One is of coming back home to our Taipei apartment and ‹nding it ransacked by robbers . The other two memories are of being punished with my older brother. There isn’t much more to say about the ‹rst memory except that my present fear of leaving the house and encountering strangers may very well come out of that incident. My other two memories are equally unpleasant. My older brother and I would get punished on a regular basis by my birth dad. (I call him my birth dad because that’s pretty much all he did—contribute to my birth. My second dad I call “Dad” because he legally adopted me, as well as raised me.) On recent questioning, my mom said that she would never punish us because he hit us enough for the both of them. Thanks, Mom. So my brother and I are in the shower. Suddenly from nowhere my birth dad is beating my brother on his butt with a stick, for reasons I cannot remember and which are probably insigni‹cant anyways. End of memory. The setting for the second memory is also our tiny Taipei apartment. My brother and I are kneeling next to each other facing the wall next to the bathroom . We’re being punished again for reasons I can’t remember, and we can’t get up until we apologize and feel truly sorry. Now, this is not as easy as it sounds or we would have simply jumped up and apologized. Oh, no. You had to stay there until you were truly sorry. That probably wasn’t the best exercise for my three-year-old knees either. Thanks, Dad. So we’re kneeling there and I turn my head in time to glimpse my mom being chased by my birth dad. He’s holding a butcher’s knife. (You know how we Chinese like to have our nice kitchen knives.) They rush by and disappear into the kitchen. End of memory. 2. My mom divorcing my dad changed my life. By leaving that marriage my mom gained back her life, and so did I. I respect my mom for doing what was best for her, even if it meant going against cultural tradition. I will always admire her for that. 3. Moving back to Taiwan during my middle school years helped me realized Chinese was more than just an annoying language that I had to learn on Sundays. I met my extended family for the ‹rst time in six years. I realized this was a huge part of who I was that was missing from my life. I returned to the U.S. looking to ‹ll this gap. Starting at age ‹fteen, I began my involvement in Asian American organizations, clubs, camps, anything I could get my hands on. I haven’t stopped since. I’M NOT ASKING FOR MUCH A Taiwanese brother sister someone who’ll go with me to lunch At a Chinese restaurant and won’t ask for a fork Someone I can eat with be with and won’t feel like it’s a chore Someone who won’t be grossed out by the ‹sh tank Someone who won’t holler “why’s this food stank?” Someone who won’t divide the bill equally to the last penny And leave 10 percent tip. Hello! This is the twenty-‹rst century! I’m not asking for much A common friend no diamond in the rough A Chinese who can speak Mandarin That’d be cool I’d be chillin’ An Asian who doesn’t need to get high before they go out for the night Someone who can use chopsticks without havin’ their food ›y A Taiwanese brother sister they don’t have to spend the night Just someone to laugh with cook with and maybe share a cry About how our parents came here and didn’t understand a thing we were goin’ through And how they’d send us on Sundays to three hours of Chinese school Where we didn’t learn a thing about Chinese anything Reminiscings 193 The only Chinese I knew was ching Chong that was from American...