When my mom and dad told my nine-year-old self that we would be moving to America, the only thing that struck me was that I would be saying goodbye to the best friends I thought I would ever have in my entire life. After arriving in the United States, I did not really realize how “different” I was, but at the same time, I never really encountered any troubles: I didn’t need to take ESL (English as a Second Language), I made new friends, and I acclimated. I had my differences here and there; for example, I did not understand any curse words and I was confused when people laughed at my initials, ‘BS,’ but life was simple and enjoyable.
To be quite frank, I still do not think I have come to complete terms with my Chinese roots and the cultural aspects that they entail. I did not really start thinking about the significance of my unique cultural background until many years after I arrived in the U.S. Now, having lived here for seven years, I am only just starting to peel away the edges of who I am and who I want to be. It is quite strange these days: the more time I spend in either country, the more I feel ostracized, that I am too Chinese in America and too American back in China.
I essentially have Chinese culture flowing through my veins: the language, the food, and even the arts. I feel that I live two lives: one at school speaking entirely in English, and the other at home where I speak only Chinese. Over time, I have learned to mix and mingle my two lives and I have come to understand that it is impossible to cut any one of them out of my identity. At the same time, there are inevitable moments where my two sides clash and I become more insecure than ever. For example, I find myself constantly complaining about the lack of authentic Chinese food after living in a Westernized community for too long, yet I can not help but crave pizza and French fries after a long summer vacation in Beijing. I find myself missing the convenience of the Beijing lifestyle, the seas and seas of different people, yet I also find myself not knowing enough Chinese songs to sing along with my old friends, failing to keep up with the latest Chinese trends, and unable to fawn over their celebrity crushes together.
On the other hand, art and painting has helped me appreciate and make connections between different cultural lifestyles I have come to love and cherish, and it has also helped me discover what defines me. For example, I decided to learn Chinese calligraphy from my dad in seventh grade, and this led me to dive into the world of Chinese art, inspiring me to flip through books and online videos to teach myself the ins and outs of traditional Chinese painting. For me, art has become a bridge connecting the two cultures that are a part of me. It gives me an outlet to portray the two diverse and magnificent facets of my cultural identity.
I want to keep learning and exploring different types of art to better express myself. How I will fare on this path is still uncertain to me, but I think that is exactly what is amazing about it, that life is never a straightforward, linear journey. One thing I do know is that I will have to continue creating art and hopefully one day I will be fluent in my own unique artistic language.