Banana

I was a banana and I didn't know it. This realization came to me when I was about twelve or thirteen. I was blithely living my life full of the usual pre-teen angst, pre-pubescent teen-idol crushes and general fuzzy-headedness of that age.For the most part, I thought I was just like my friends. But I wasn't.

I wrote the above for a prompt at First 50 Words. It got me thinking about how long it took me to realize my own banana-ness.

Banana: An Asian person who acts like they are white. Yellow on the outside, white on the inside.

I had never heard banana used this way until I was in university where, thankfully, I was exposed to a much broader experience. I was raised in a WASP community. In my graduating class of approximately five hundred, fewer than a dozen were non-white. I can probably name them now: Ellen, Nirmal, Linda, Bob, Bev, Doug, Ed, Chuck, Sonny, and another Ellen.

I always knew something was off – the snickered racial slurs, the outright snubbing by certain people, the condescension, surprise at my non-mathematical mind. But I could never quite figure it out. I never heard other non-white students speak of similar experiences. Mostly, I thought it was a flaw in myself. I naively felt I was like everyone else. I liked the same music, the same movies; I had the same crushes on the same teen idols of the day; I even dressed the same.

What I didn't realize was that I was viewing myself from the inside out and everyone else was looking at me from the outside in. What they saw was a little Asian girl. And of course, that's what they reacted to first.

It was one of those defining aha! moments when I heard the word banana used to describe Asians. I didn't think of the negative connotation – i.e. that I was denying my Asian-ness and pretending or acting white. It was more about validation of why I felt the way I did and how others reacted to me.

Later on, I thought about the negative implications of the term and, at first, hated it, then realized it was yet another misinterpretation of the inner me. My grandparents had instilled in me a tremendous pride of my heritage that a slangy definer wasn't about to change.

Over the years, I've come to terms with the fact that others, both Asian and non-Asian, are often startled by what they discover if they bother to scratch the surface.

But this holds true for anybody. It's a case of the old saying, "Don't judge a book by it's cover."


xxxx

Let It Go 101

One of the benefits of maturing is learning how to handle disagreements without getting fuming mad. It's not that I don't get annoyed or angry; it's that I can let it go much easier.

There were times, not so long ago, that if I disagreed with someone and knew in my heart of hearts that they were wrong, I was convinced it was my duty; nay, my moral obligation to show them the error of their ways. In retrospect, I don't think it had much to do with proving them wrong. It was more about proving that I was right.

I still remember a discussion - slash – argument with a good friend in college. It was about – are you ready for this? – how winds are named (e.g. westerly, southerly, etc.). My friend said winds were named for the direction in which they blew. In other words, she said a wind blowing from the east towards the west would be called a Westerly.

I knew she was wrong because I distinctly remembered my Geography 12 teacher drilling it into us that winds are named by the direction "from" which they blew. Hence, a Westerly was blowing from the west. I could not convince my friend that she was wrong. It drove me nuts!

We both got upset about it (silly, I know) and stomped off, never to mention it again. How I wish we had laptops and Google back then. For years, I wondered if she ever got it straight and said to herself, "Aha, Ell was right all along!" I doubt it.

It wasn't so much that I wanted to prove her wrong, but for her to bow down to my superior knowledge and admit that I was right. It was about ego. It was about showing, proof positive, that I was smart and, by golly, smarter than her. I needed to get over myself.

As it happens, if you're even moderately honest with yourself and live long enough, you realize that you're not as smart as you originally thought in those heady days of youth. I won't go into details, but I'm sure some of you can relate; I was brought down a notch or two in my life.

Life lesson: There's always someone else smarter than you.

So, having gotten over myself, I learned to let things be.

Once I figured out that it's wasn't necessary to win every argument and have everyone agree with me, life got a lot easier and less aggravating.

I will still argue my point as logically, persuasively and passionately as possible, but once it's out there, I've either convinced the other person; or not. If they want to carry on a civilized discussion, fine. If it's just devolving into an argument for argument's sake, then it's pointless.

One day I'm going to ask my college friend if she remembers our conversation about wind directions. She'll probably look at me as if I've lost my mind.

Expect the unexpected (a semi-rant and musings)

At eighteen, I thought I had things figured out. In reality, I was clueless.

My plan was to go to university, graduate with a degree in nursing, then spend the next few years working on the S.S. HOPE, a peacetime hospital ship that brought healthcare and education programs to countries around the world. Little did I know it would make its last voyage the year I graduated. It ends up it didn't really matter. I met my husband-to-be while in university and we married the year I graduated. Since then, my life has taken all sorts of twists and turns.

I’m a romantic idealist at heart, but I’m pragmatic when it comes to everyday life. I tend to carry on, no matter what happens. I figure, there’s not much choice – sit and mope - or live life. Yet, it would’ve been helpful to know at a younger age that there’s no such thing as life going according to “plan”. Life is messy.

I think it’s a disservice to young people (to me, young is anyone under 30) when we give them the illusion they can plan out their future at the age of eighteen; that a university degree insures success and the lack of a degree dooms them to failure. I hate - yes, hate - hearing adults tell teenagers they MUST get a university degree, choose a major and a career before they even know who they are. I’ve known far too many people get university degrees, follow a proscribed career path because it was expected of them, then end up miserable. If everyone needs a university degree to insure success, then what about all the workers and trades people who don’t have degrees. Are they all failures? Of course not.

It bothers me when I see people feeling trapped and pulled along a life path where they don’t think they have a choice except to continue what they’re doing no matter how dreary, unhappy or desperate they feel. They have a choice. It just might not be an easy one. I think it’s often fear of the unknown and leaving their comfort zone that traps people – not the actual circumstances in which they find themselves. (The people who really don’t have choices are those caught in situations beyond their control – in wars, or third-world poverty – but that’s another blog.)

A few personal observations I’ve learned along the way (or stuff I wish someone had told me earlier):

• University graduates aren’t always the most intelligent people
  
• The most intelligent people aren’t always university graduates
  
• Sometimes a job is just a job. It puts money in your pocket, pays the bills and puts food on the table. It’s not necessary to love your job. It would be nice to, but not necessary. As long as it’s tolerable and doesn’t go against your own ethical standards (which, to me would be a biggie), what’s wrong with viewing it pragmatically - a means to an end. Which brings me to . . .
  
• There’s more to life than job or career. Friends, family, hobbies, life passions (whether they be art, literature, social causes, . . .) make for a more satisfying life journey.
  
• It’s not a race. Who says you MUST graduate with a degree by age xy? Who says you MUST own a home by xx? Everyone gets to where they’re going regardless of the timetable. Or as someone told me once, we all end up where we end up when we get there.
  
• Happiness is not a goal. You’re either happy or unhappy because of what’s going on in your life. Anyone who says they’re happy all the time are either lying or blissed out on some kind of pharmaceutical.
  
• Money ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Money does not equal success. Success does not equal money. Money is necessary and it’s better to have it than not, but it shouldn’t be the end goal. Seems obvious, but hard to truly believe when we’re inundated with advertising that encourages a gluttony of consumerism that only money can satiate.
  
• Everyone makes mistakes. It’s okay to make mistakes and admit it. It’s even okay to fail sometimes. But you can’t live the rest of your life beating up on yourself for past mistakes. Learn. Move on.
  
• Don’t let people take away your ideals. I’ve been told I’m too idealistic. But without ideals, what’s the point?
  
• Plans have a nasty habit of going awry. It’s better to be flexible than to have set-in-stone plans.
  
• There’s always something more to learn. Just when you think you’ve got it figured out, life proves you wrong.
  

When I began today’s blog, I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going except that I wanted to address the pressure we put on our young people to make choices and be successful - as if it were some precise road or path that can be planned. Instead, I see that I’ve rambled on more about my life philosophy than anything else.

But maybe it’s all connected: Being flexible, not believing there’s only one path through life or to success, always learning and going with what life gives you rather than expecting life to unfold in a particular way. These are things I wish I’d known back in high school when guidance counsellors made everyone believe you could choose your life’s career by answering a few interest inventory questions.

From time to time, I like reading the following quote about success. It helps me keep things in perspective:

To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

This blog is dedicated to my sons, nieces and nephews.

What's wrong with a bit of idealism?

naive: Marked by or showing unaffected simplicity and lack of guile or worldly experience

I've been insulted and called various unflattering things in my life, as one does if you've been around long enough and choose to participate in society. But two terms that have been used in a disparaging way towards me have always been a puzzlement: 'naive' and 'idealistic'. The first because I know I'm not naive, and the second because I don't see idealism as being negative. Actually, these two terms often seem to go together. For example, "You're too naive and idealistic." Or, "How can you be so naive? It'll never work. You're too idealistic." (Other terms that get thrown my way are Pollyanna, goody-two-shoes, soft-headed, do-gooder, etc., etc.)

I'm one of those people who think, on the one hand, that the world is going to hell and that we'll probably nuke ourselves out of existence. But, on the other hand, still care about the environment and insist on recycling.

How do I know I'm not a naive? Let's just say I've seen and dealt with more than the usual middle-class western norm. I've looked after people in rundown housing with no bathroom so they have to use a bucket for a toilet, but were too sick to empty it in the communal BR so it sits smelly and fly-gathering for days; I've had to call police to kick in the apartment door of a junkie mother who was passed out on the floor while her newborn was wailing in the background; I've looked after people suffering terminal illnesses and no one else around to comfort them; I've talked with children who I know have been beaten by their parents, but there's no proof and they won't tell. I've seen horrible things happen to good people all the time. I am not naive to what goes on in the world around me.

So why am I accused of being naive? Well, apparently, because I'm too idealistic. And why am I idealistic?. Because I've also seen how a simple, kind act or word can make a difference. I realise that shitty things happen in life, but believe we can all do something to make things better for others. We can all do our part in not making things worse and taking action, no matter how small, to do something positive. I'm not necessarily talking about earth-shattering, global-changing action, though it could be. I'm talking about the day to day way we live our lives and choose to act and react to those around us. We can choose to act like a$$holes or not. We can choose to be kind or not. I believe in not passing the buck and looking at our own actions before condemning others. So what if someone else is being a pain in the ass? It doesn't follow that you have to be one in reaction to him.

I believe in the ripple effect. Everytime you interact with someone, you've affected them in some way. They, in turn, will go off and interact with someone else. You can choose to be positive or negative. I don't pretend to be some kind of Mother Theresa and heaven knows I have my bitchy, snarly days. As my profile mentions, I see myself as having a good dose of pessimism. But it doesn't stop me from being idealistic in the sense that I want to make the world better rather than worse.

Well, this is about as messy and disjointed a piece as I've written in awhile. I'm going to consider it what Anne Lamott calls a 'shitty first draft' and leave it at that.