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My parents also taught that we were superior to Americans. I learned that we outnumbered them and that we were better than them in math and science. Even my Taiwanese friend's dog T-bone, knew the difference between the races; he only barked at non-Asians. I began to feel proud of my Chinese roots. I especially enjoyed the Chinese New Year celebration. I got free money in a red envelope just by repeating "ghong-shi, ghong-shi" to any relative older than me. I was told this saying meant "good luck", but to me it connoted "give me more money". My brother and I got to play with our own dragon costume in the basement. Later in the day, the whole family would go to Chinatown to see the professional dragon dance and fireworks. The main street bustled with noise from th explosives, people and music. One year, while my parents were selling dim sum at the stand on the main street, I wandered off to the outdoor dance in Chinatown where a live Carribean band played. Since I wore my favorite tee-shirt with "foxy lady" imprinted in metallic letters, I got up the courage to join the dance. I swayed my skinny body and flicked my newly purchased Chinese fan deftly to the rhythm. Here I experienced my first real encounter with a male. A boy from South side of Chicago, danced and moved closer to me until finally we were dancing together. I couldn't figure out if he was attractive or not. He had African features. His looks weren't like anything the media presented as good-looking. I didn't know how to evaluate him. I decided he was above average and might be worth bragging about to my Taiwanese friends. We introduced ourselves and decided to roam around Chinatown together. We ran into his older brother. My friend begged and whined for thirty cents in order to buy me a bag of popcorn. Hew bought a bag of popcorn and gave it to me as a gift. I felt honored. |
This is the way it's supposed to happen in the movies.
However, we had a communication problem. He spoke city slang and I only
understood White talk. Nevertheless, I deciphered some of his speech. While sitting on the ledge of a closed shop, he
asked me if I wanted to make out. I pretended not to hear him. Making out
did not seem desirable to me. First of all, I had no experience. In addition, I
hadn't yet figured out how to hold lips together over long periods of time
without suffocating. He presented his proposal a second time. Again, I acted
as though I was interested in the scenery. After a few quiet moments, he
announced that he heard his mother calling and left. I sat dumbfounded.
I hurried back to my parents' dim sum stand. I finished watching the dragon dance and as we were walking to the parking lot to return home, I admired the posters of Miss Chinatown on the storefronts.
On another Chinese New Year a couple of years later, I participated in a
Chinese costume show. I wore the red and gold silk robes of an ancient
empress. My dark hair was pulled up in a tight bun underneath a large
headdress with long tassels. My eyes were drawn extra slanted with
charcoal eyeliner; my face was powdered pale white; my lips were drawn bright red.
As I practiced walking for the show in front of a full-length mirror, I realized
how pretty I looked. And after the show, a little girl came up to me and said in admiration, "You look beautiful!"
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