Journey for an Identity

The Motherland is where the magic of diversity begins; it is the origin of culture and customs that are meant to be passed on throughout the generations. The strength of the culture is most abundant and flowing here but oftentimes events take place and migration occurs. Immigrants come to America with pockets full of the culture from their homelands. The preservation of the culture is then subject to several factors upon entering the United States. My parents both grew up in Vietnam, where their upbringing continuously resurfaces especially after immigrating to America. We were fortunate to come across the acquaintance of a small Vietnamese community in our town early on. Having access to this community allows room for strengthening and preserving our culture. It appeared that the more members there were, the more we practiced Vietnamese customs. My parents and relatives must have felt more at ease practicing their customs when more members of Vietnamese descent were present. I am grateful for the founding of this community, otherwise my lessons on Vietnamese culture would be limited. One of the phrases that I heard most growing up was “Nguoi Vietnam phai noi tieng Viet” which translates to “Vietnamese people have to speak Vietnamese” and shows the importance of keeping origins through language. My grandma often scolded my cousin and me when we would converse in English. These small moments comprise the onset of the generational gap. One side, generally the family, compelling me to harness my roots and practice diligently while the other encompasses everything that resides outside of my family.

The issue lies in how to maintain this delicate balance between the two cultures and what to identify as. At times I have found it difficult to identify as Vietnamese American because I don’t feel that I have embodied neither Vietnamese culture nor American culture to the extent that I could claim ownership over one, the other or both. There are instances where the cultures tend to clash as well such as how women should behave. Hence my idea of having a hybrid form of my own culture; one that is rigged with foundations in Vietnamese culture but prevalent with American practices takes precedence. Given that I am in America, the American lifestyle tends to take a firmer hold on the way I lead my life but I would never have the desire to reject my Vietnamese roots. Yet the journey for identity is far from over, for I must continuously engage myself in the culture and constantly learn more. I am aware that I am not the only one in this boat for there are others who experience this disparity.