Chong 1

Cheryl Yvan Chong Mr. MaximinoPulan, Jr. En 101 M02 7 March 2011 A Dying Breed I have always believed I am a by-product of two cultures in conflict, and my fellow by-products are dying off one by one. Born in Manila seventeen years ago to parents both of Chinese ancestry, I am registered a Filipino citizen, but raised in the ways of traditional Chinese upbringing. My first and most fluent language is Hokkien Chinesethe native dialect of my ancestral land in FuJian, China. And of all the languages I have learned, Filipino has always been my weakest. I am proud of my ability to speak well in Chinese because most Chinese children, even those in Chinese schools such as mine, would grow up forgetting the language and resorting to Filipino. It is a pity when latter generations forget about their ethnic roots and assimilate into the foreign land they are born in, but I find myself in a more and more complicated situation when I realize how much I have to assert myself of my Chinese descent as I attempt (with difficulty) to make myself recognized as a Chinese amidst predominantly Filipino influences. I still strive hard to be Chinese, because it is a rare feat for Chinese born in the Philippines to be knowledgeable about the traditions and language and be good at it. We are, in fact, a dying breed, and it is considered a great honor to be part of this minority. If there is one thing about the Chinese, it is their desire to bring honor to their families, and saving face. I am not asking for pity or empathy when I share to you how

Chong 2

traditionally Chinese my family is. My grandparents did not recognize my sister and me as their grandchildren at first because we were not boys. Tradition dictates that boys born in the family would grow up into men who can then pass down the family name, bringing great honor until the next generation, while as this is something women cannot do. They would not let Mother breastfeed us, as they believed that girls do not need the unnecessary nourishment, but Mother nurtured us in her own way. As soon as we started our formal education, she bought textbooks and gave us advanced math and grammar lessons herself during summers, hired piano teachers and swimming coaches so we would not be looked down upon. Soon enough, we gained honors in school and my grandmother (grandfather had already passed away) started to take pride in us and bragged about us to her old lady friends over the phone I would sometimes overhear. Thus, we have brought honor, and I have since continued to do so by excelling in school, and also actively participating in and learning the works of the Chinese community. But it was only when I had stepped out of my Chinese-centered community and entered college that I realized I have never truly belonged in this country.My eyes were opened to this reality not just because of how different my conservative Chinese upbringing is, but also of how little Filipinos in general understood about us. My friends would jokingly call me Intsik and attempt to converse with me with phrases of Chinese food, Siomaisiopaopansittikoy! They would inquire about Ongpin or Chinatownor Binondo and I would explain to them the best that I can that it is not a place teeming with thieves or bulls penis (which some of my friends have eaten in an obscure restaurant there).Nowadays I would just wearily wave them off and play along with their teasing, because to the Chinese community, Filipinos have stereotypes too, albeit graver ones.

Chong 3

Always, when I go out with college friends, my parents would ask if they were Chinese. And if my friends were Chinese who cannot speak Chinese, they would be labeled huan-na gong, Hokkien for Filipino dumb or gone dumb like a Filipino because of the loss of their knowledge of the Chinese language. It is considered shameful for parents who knew Chinese speaking to their children in Filipino or English at home. But the most shameful of all is to marry a Filipino. Taking a Filipino wife generally connotes that the man cannot afford to marry a Chinese wife. The wife, however, would still be accepted as long as she abides by the rules of the family. A Chinese woman getting married to a Filipino, meanwhile, usually happens without the consent of the parents, making the woman seem cheap. More often than not, the family would disown this daughter as she has caused the family to lose face among the Chinese society.These discourses regarding the Filipinos are treated as fact and are still being implemented by some Chinese families, including my own. Inter-racial marriages are one of the most rampant causes of Chinese children losing their Chinese roots (which I admit, I am afraid of too), thus these implications. I am forbidden to be in a relationship that is beyond platonic with any Filipino, and I grew up having been taught that Filipinos were not trustworthy and thus they are unacceptable in the Chinese society in general. My first and only time away from the Philippines was to participate in an international mathematics competition in China, representing the Philippines. Actually, many of the delegates from the Philippines were Chinese like me, but I was one of the few people who can actually converse with the locals there. And when I attempted to haggle with a night market vendor for a few keychains I would bring home to my friends, we barely understood each others mandarin. We had very different accents. I found

Chong 4

difficulty in reading Simplified Chinese too because I learned my Chinese from Taiwanese mandarin taught in school which was written traditionally. To this day, my parents have not yet brought me to China to see my province and ancestral house where they spent their honeymoon together. I was the second child, unfortunately; therefore not even one cell of me has ever been to China with them before. Perhaps this rift between these two cultures stems from the belief that Filipinos are not Asian enough. Unlike the countrys neighbors in Southeast Asia, it is one of the few nations which are not predominantly Chinese. Though if one were to analyze modern cultures now, after globalization has taken place and everything has been westernized, no nation, no person is Asian enough anymore. To most of the Chinese in the Philippines, China has become just an idea, a land wherethey once were. Not even I may ever truly belong in that idealized country called China either, as much as I may try to be. Since my grandparents have left China behind in search for a better quality of living back in the 1940s, China instead has left us behind. Its rapid economic growth has sent the world powers reeling. After only a little more than half a century, China has developed so fast, leaving the third-generation Chinese immigrants such as me to watch the latest Olympics from television screens, rooting for both Philippines and Chinawith China always winning. I watch from a distance I know I am part of that successful country, but also apart from it. I take pride in Filipinos who gain recognition in the arts, music, sports or academics abroad, and though we are not of the same color or ethnicity, I know that they came from this country I live in, the Philippines. Wheredo my loyalties lie, exactly? I would sometimes ask myself that too. Having lived in the Philippines for all my life, mydecision is comparable to an adopted

Chong 5

child at a loss between his birth parents and foster parents.I have never really known China, never having experienced it myself, but only second-hand bits and pieces of it which I have put together all in my min. But I, too, would never fully become a Filipino, despite consuming the resources from this Filipino land and learning its native language and about its history. My blood still connects me to the land I belong to, and I, no matter how thin the string that ties me to it, would never cut it and instead tie more and more until I have enough to sew together my identity as a Filipino and as a Chinese. I cannot attribute myself to either of the two parts of myself. A Chinese seed planted in Philippine landalthough I am destined to grow into what I was born to be, I will not wither away and die without paying my dues to the land that inadvertently shaped me into what I am today. The land is not swallowing up my fellow Chinese youth, rather, it is they who are relaxing their roots and allowing themselves to be swept away by the landslides of influence. (All of the metaphors and images you used here are really effective!) I am not a product of two cultures in conflict. I am a mixture of the two homogenous and inseparable. I am neither, I am both.

1. First impression: This essay sets you apart from most of the Fil-Chi youth because it shows how strongly rooted you are despite your experiencing only secondhand bits and pieces of China. Its very informative and precise. You skillfully painted a picture of what your family is like with regards to Chinese culture, at the same time showing us details about Chinese people in general. 2. The experiences you recounted are all effective in delivering the message of your essay (I especially liked the one about rooting for both the Philippines and for China). They are interesting and expertly told. The storytelling can made even more effective by adding one key event that serves as the climax, because the suspense and tension doesnt seem to rise or

Chong 6

fall as the story progresses. Maybe you can emphasize an event you have already written about in this essay. 3. You did not describe the appearances of the people or the places mentioned in the story, but I think its just as well for this type of essay. It draws the attention away from the physicality of Chinese culture and places focus on the ideal aspects of it. So I think it was a good decision that you abstained from describing people and places in great detail. After all, we ARE only limited to five pages, and we cannot waste such precious space by lingering on porcelain skin or chewy, succulent bull penis. ) 4. Autobiographical significance (see: #2) 5. The organization is good. I like how you mixed the events with the discussions. I dont think you need to change it. 6. Final thoughts: The strongest part is definitely at the conclusion (from the second to the last paragraph to the last paragraph). The images and metaphors used in these last two paragraphs were very powerful. The only part I think that needs further work is your retelling of your experience in China, the one when youre haggling with the street vendor you could add more insights into it to show more clearly how even when youre in China, youre still separated from the true Chinese people (if that is the message you wanted to convey). Great job!