As a child I used to play alone in front of the mirror. The mirror I gazed into belonged on top of a dresser but somehow it was on the floor near my bed. The game consisted primarily of contemplation rather than physical activity. I stared at my face, wondering what exactly I looked like. Did I look like the people around me? Did I look Chinese? Were my eyes small and slanted? One time, a friend asked me if I could see well enough with my slit-like eyes. Sitting in front of the mirror, I forced my eyes open wider. Maybe I see less than I should be seeing. I examined my eyes more closely. I decided then that doing "open-eye" exercises for everyday would enlarge my eyes and I will then easily blend into the American society. Gazing into the mirror I also wondered if I could pass for a boy. My body did not look too much different from theirs. However, I had full long black hair which could not be hidden. I tried to stuff it all under my brother's baseball cap, but my reflection quickly told me that the big lumps under my cap and loose strands of hair looked quite unnatural. I longed to be picked first with guys on the block in the football and soccer games. I wanted to be tough, virile and macho. Neverthess, another part of me asked, "Mirror, Mirror on the wall, am I pretty?" No matter how long I contemplated, I could not figure out if I lacked any beauty, I strained to see myself as others saw me, but I only saw myself. |
On my bed, numerous stuffed animals of all shapes, sizes and colors frolicked
together without regard to their physical differences. The fact that they
were all asexual never hindered their joy-making. In contrast, I despised
those plastic dolls. Their hair always got tangled into some
great unsolvable puzzle and when you tried to hug them, they pushed their
hard body parts into your soft flesh. Nevertheless, I still tried to entertain
myself with these playthings. In the toy store, I admired the rows of dolls.
It seemed as though a great majority of them were blond and Anglo-Saxon
and none were Chinese. Although I felt excluded from the fictitious doll kingdom, I settled for majority rule and bought the
Barbie-like dolls. I knew I didn't have The Bluest Eye and I suffered a little
from the Pecola Breedlove Syndrome. Anyhow, all in all, I preferred playing with my more cosmopolitan stuffed
animal population.
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