Excited
By Mandy
A previous op-ed article I had written for Asians in America, “The Language of Invisibility” and Tim’s 8asians’ piece “On Talking With or Without an Accent” made me think about how language can essentialize the identity of a person – particularly a person of color – within a nation-state or social community. Over the weekend, I pissed off someone in New York City by simply ignoring him and was immediately told to “go back to where [I] came from” – the assumption perhaps being that my silence signifies that I am foreign/non-American and, with my apparent lack of English skills and social refinement, do not belong in this country. This was definitely not the first time that something like this has happened.
The truth of the matter is that I was born and raised in America, and my language is American English. While throughout my youth people had occasionally asked me if I knew Korean, it was not until I became a singularly English-speaking Asian living in Asia that I began to contemplate my linguistic capabilities and ineptitudes and what this might mean.
Last year, I worked at an international private school in Bangkok where the majority of the students were the children of extremely affluent Asians. Despite growing up in non-English-speaking households and countries but still rapidly advancing towards bilingualism, many of the students could not get over how well I spoke English – the only language I speak fluently. When I told a 16-year-old Korean girl from Seoul that she should not be impressed by my English because I am a native speaker, she earnestly replied, “Yeah, but still… your accent is so good,” as if my being Asian should have belied my ability to learn American English.
More often than not, my Asianness implies that I not only could know an Asian language but should know one (the popular default being Chinese). Several Asian teachers at the international school would, seconds after meeting me and inquiring about my background, promptly ask why I don’t speak Korean. When I studied Korean in Seoul, I was disparaged by old generation adults and slightly older peers alike for “betraying” my roots by not knowing “my” language. When I was walking alone in India, where I studied abroad for a semester, I could effortlessly dismiss the street hawkers and creeps who called out random English phrases or “China! Japan! Nepal!” to me with a few words of my own jibberish language; no one ever questioned it, and they left me alone thereafter. (Interestingly, though, being an Asian person in a group of predominantly white college-age American females gave me somewhat of an amorphous identity in India. When I was with anyone from my program, I was an American girl and harassed as such; but the moment I separated myself, I was just some detached Asian tourist.)
For a long time, I felt compelled to rationalize why I did not speak this apparently “native” language of mine. I have two Korean parents and a purely Korean lineage, yet I barely understood anything other than baboh until I began independently studying Korean in college. My Korean tutor – along with the rest of the world, it sometimes seems – was curious to know why I did not speak Korean. My parents didn’t want me to have an accent, I mechanically tell everyone, they just wanted me to fit in. This was probably true. I grew up in a tiny, wealthy, blindingly White suburb that would not tolerate difference well – not that its populace is racist, per se, but that they, nor I, would not know what to do with each other had I established any distinct cultural identity. It was difficult enough getting through middle school as an angst-ridden ‘tween who listened to Garbage and burned candles on the weekends. The last thing I needed was a hang-up about being that kind of “different.” (This would come later on in college.) Still, this ostensibly logical logic is hard for even me to swallow as I continue to struggle with constructing coherent sentences in my unambiguously American-accented Korean, something that could have been avoided had my parents taught me their native tongue but could also be, in an ironic sort of way, a source of jealousy for that 16-year-old native Korean speaker.
This spring, I met the sexagenarian ex-Marine Mexican-American leader of an Arizonan chapter of the Minutemen, a volunteer vigilante group that independently “monitors” the U.S.-Mexico border. He ranted about many ridiculous things, but my favorite assertion of his was the blunt distinction he made between “real” Americans, who can speak English, and non-Americans, who do not know English or cannot speak it well. His complete disregard for the privileges that people from non-native-English-speaking countries/the majority of the world does not have access to and the subsequent disenfranchisement of specific social and racial groups is xenophobic nationalism at its worst, but what is scarier is that a lot of “real” Americans probably agree with this point of view. Moreover, for a person of non-native-English-speaking descent to be able to publicly articulate and emphatically believe such a sentiment is quite incredible. (It may also be worth noting that the Minuteman claimed he can speak eight languages, including Vietnamese, Thai, and “Brazilian” and that the racism he felt growing up was “all in [his] head” because he was “introverted.”)
These explicit and implicit conjectures have made me wonder how I, and others who share a similar position as me, am supposed to reconcile with these different national “identities” when I don’t subscribe to any one singularly, when my upbringing confutes the implied cultural norms of my heritage, and when, ultimately, I think one way but look like another.
Perhaps the only “language” I can ever comfortably master and be judged upon are my faceless written words. But, in the end, I think I’m OK with that.
Mandy graduated from Vassar College with a B.A. in anthropology in May 2009. She has spent time living, studying, and traveling in South Korea, India, Thailand, and the US-Mexico border and is teaching English in Japan through the JET programme. Her hair is naturally curly.
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I hold many differing and potentially "contradictory" feelings about the whole "American" identity. I'm a banana/twinkie Taiwanese-American who grew up in NYC.
The specific perspective I think a lot of Asians (and other immigrants) would benefit from is this: why do we fight with stupid ignorant White people born and bread from genocidal slave-holding forefathers over the dubious privilege of the title "American?"
As most of us are aware, Obama's important symbolic rise notwithstanding, the US is in decline, militarily, politically, economically, culturally, physically (umm, how bout some more corn syrup for the chronically obese population?). The world is globalizing and Asia is ascending.
I understand the need for immigrant groups to assert their rights here in the US. I just think that the emotional struggle involved with pursuing the pseudo-status of native American is often not worth the time or energy.
I hold many differing and potentially "contradictory" feelings about the whole "American" identity. I'm a banana/twinkie Taiwanese-American who grew up in NYC.
The specific perspective I think a lot of Asians (and other immigrants) would benefit from is this: why do we fight with stupid ignorant White people born and bread from genocidal slave-holding forefathers over the dubious privilege of the title "American?"
As most of us are aware, Obama's important symbolic rise notwithstanding, the US is in decline, militarily, politically, economically, culturally, physically (umm, how bout some more corn syrup for the chronically obese population?). The world is globalizing and Asia is ascending.
I understand the need for immigrant groups to assert their rights here in the US. I just think that the emotional struggle involved with pursuing the pseudo-status of native American is often not worth the time or energy.
American??? there is no language called american, australians don't call their english Austrlian, neither do canadians. We should speak a native american language.
American??? there is no language called american, australians don't call their english Austrlian, neither do canadians. We should speak a native american language.
"For a long time, I felt compelled to rationalize why I did not speak this apparently u00e2u0080u009cnativeu00e2u0080u009d language of mine."
This whole paragraph sums up how I felt about my Japanese heritage and my own inability to speak Japanese when I was younger. I can completely relate. I would personally like to arrive at a point where I can speak Japanese competently, knowing that my American accent is indelible.
"Perhaps the only u00e2u0080u009clanguageu00e2u0080u009d I can ever comfortably master and be judged upon are my faceless written words."
Although non-verbal communication is not universal, either-- I also found this out the hard way.
Well written post, Mandy. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
"For a long time, I felt compelled to rationalize why I did not speak this apparently u00e2u0080u009cnativeu00e2u0080u009d language of mine."
This whole paragraph sums up how I felt about my Japanese heritage and my own inability to speak Japanese when I was younger. I can completely relate. I would personally like to arrive at a point where I can speak Japanese competently, knowing that my American accent is indelible.
"Perhaps the only u00e2u0080u009clanguageu00e2u0080u009d I can ever comfortably master and be judged upon are my faceless written words."
Although non-verbal communication is not universal, either-- I also found this out the hard way.
Well written post, Mandy. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.
What was the point of this post?
What was the point of this post?
It's even confusing if you're a perfect bilingual - I can speak in unaccented Western US English and standard mandarin without a lot of Beijing twang. I don't know really what is my native tongue anymore, but I find myself speaking to myself in English most of the time. One benefit of being perfect bilingual is to fool the natives, but accents can't replace acculturation; my ABC status is usually soon discovered upon deeper conversation ("so where did you go for military service?" "eh...."). In the US I face the same issue as you do - people assume I'm a foreigner by looking at me or my last name. I don't know where I am going with this; perhaps I wanted to say that even if you speak the language akin to a native, an Asian-American is still nether here nor there... not native anywhere. We can fool ourselves into thinking that we are both, but we all know in reality that we are neither. A curious outsider in the land of our parents, a perpetual foreigner in the land of our birth. No wonder we're angry all the time. :)
It's even confusing if you're a perfect bilingual - I can speak in unaccented Western US English and standard mandarin without a lot of Beijing twang. I don't know really what is my native tongue anymore, but I find myself speaking to myself in English most of the time. One benefit of being perfect bilingual is to fool the natives, but accents can't replace acculturation; my ABC status is usually soon discovered upon deeper conversation ("so where did you go for military service?" "eh...."). In the US I face the same issue as you do - people assume I'm a foreigner by looking at me or my last name. I don't know where I am going with this; perhaps I wanted to say that even if you speak the language akin to a native, an Asian-American is still nether here nor there... not native anywhere. We can fool ourselves into thinking that we are both, but we all know in reality that we are neither. A curious outsider in the land of our parents, a perpetual foreigner in the land of our birth. No wonder we're angry all the time. :)
conversely, i like to say (clearly, in my un-accented voice) "i don't speak english" to creeps on the street who try to hit on me. one of those small, personal satisfactions.
conversely, i like to say (clearly, in my un-accented voice) "i don't speak english" to creeps on the street who try to hit on me. one of those small, personal satisfactions.
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