By: Wing

On Christmas Day, Nguyen’s family invited my mother and me to attend a very exclusive dinner hosted at his parent’s house in Toronto. Although I expected it to be a nerve-wracking experience, I felt the dinner went smoothly considering only the families of partners that were invited.

The opening scene of the night was what you could call “that awkward first encounter” as it was the first time Nguyen’s family was meeting his brother’s fiancée’s family. When we arrived, everyone was already sitting in a large circle in the living room. Lively chats spoken in what I presume to be Vietnamese and English were interspersed with long gaps of silence and a palpable feeling of awkwardness in the air.

Lucky for them, I specialize in breaking awkward silences and my usually awkward mother chimed in by offering to teach Chinese to any interested takers.

As we transitioned our way into dinner, the air grew thick with the smell of sweet and sour mango salad, deep-fried shrimp chips, and bubbling crab soup. Nguyen’s mother is a phenomenal cook. Chatter began to fill the room as the parents were trying to communicate in various strains of Vietnamese, Chinese Cantonese, and English, while the “kids” were busy introducing themselves. (I expect this is what my wedding is going to be like — I love it!)

In the midst of this chaos, Nguyen’s brother was constantly up and about, serving everyone and making sure everyone was well cared for. He even cleaned the dishes afterwards too! He was definitely showing his in-laws-to-be that he was husband material and to be honest, even I was impressed!

Of course, these actions also caught my mom’s eye.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, my mom repeatedly whispered to me something along the following lines in Cantonese: “Wow, look at him! What a great son! Nguyen’s brother is so filial! Washing the dishes without being told! Wow!”

Then, it became: “Why is Nguyen not washing the dishes? Why is Nguyen just sitting around?”

Eventually, with a head full of whisperings and a mother’s sneaky intervention, I began to wonder why my own boyfriend was not washing the dishes. I eventually confronted Nguyen about it and he sat through the rest of the dinner in silence — a behaviour that usually makes feel very frustrated.

Now, in Nguyen’s defense, as much as I have my qualms with how he doesn’t consistently clean the organic waste in the sink strainer or clear out the cat litter, he is very good with doing the dishes, loading the laundry, folding the clothes, and doing other miscellaneous tasks at home. Do I wish he would do a little bit more? Yes. But he’s also not one to do nothing.

When everyone began to clear out, Nguyen “finally” volunteered to do the dishes. I helped. While cleaning, Nguyen told me that he had already offered earlier to clean multiple times during the dinner, but was shooed away from the kitchen. He felt that if he was shooed away several times, he would not insist any further.

In the car ride back to my mother’s house, I explained to her the situation. Interesting, my mom responded by saying “It’s true that he is a nice guy, but he is just way too honest!” I was left to think about this for the next few days because I had no idea what she meant.

A few nights later, back in our own home, I told my friends about what my mom had said about Nguyen. And right as I recounted the story, the answer came crashing into me. When my mom said that Nguyen was too honest, she inferred that he didn’t know how to play ‘the game’.

If you were born into an immigrant East-Asian family, you probably know this game well. It’s the endless and exhausting game of showing courtesy and respect to elders at all times. It’s the fight to be the one bowing the lowest in respect. It’s the fight to pour tea for your elders first. It’s the fight to pay for the bill at a restaurant and it’s the wisdom to do chores without being asked. Thinking about it, it’s a game I was conditioned to play and excel in.

As I was trying to explain this revelation to my friends, one of our good friends interrupted me and said, “It’s not that Nguyen doesn’t know how to play the game, it’s that he wants to end the game. He wants to destroy it.”

And just like that, I had my second heart-stopping revelation of the day. Of course! We had always talked about ending systemic racism, income inequality, gender inequality and all the other things that make this Game of Life unfair. However, what I didn’t realize was that I was internalizing and prizing this game in my personal life.

Why did my mom’s words prompt me to make assumptions about Nguyen as lazy, rude, unwilling to help, and not responsible? It’s because these practices stemmed from the very neoliberal, patriarchal, and racist ideologies that I despise!

Of course, I am not saying that showing respect to elders and doing chores is unimportant. I think it still is! It can be really loving or even romantic. I am also not saying that all traditional East Asian practices are automatically racist, sexist, or classist. However, I do think we need to create space to think more critically about why we uphold certain traditions, customs, and institutions of practice and why we are lead to make assumptions about a certain person’s values when they do not fulfill them.

Instead of subscribing to these ideas automatically, it is imperative to deconstruct these practices, feelings, and values. Why do we do what we do? Are we being loving, respectful, and constructive? Or do we simply seek to fulfill a cultural norm? (And is this in itself productive?)

As you will soon discover, the answer is not black and white and there is really no fine line to be discovered. However, what I think you will discover are the healthy and unhealthy boundaries of said practices and perhaps, your own values as well.

For example, while I would love for Nguyen to wash the dishes and do other chores miraculously without being told, I realize that this practice could set the precedent for understanding that love is having done “the right thing”, rather than communicating wants and desires. As we’ve discovered time and time in our relationship, we simply cannot expect our better half to be able to read our minds — even when we desperately want them to. Relationship building is all about being vulnerable and sharing those wants and desires even when our pride refuses to do so.

Needless to say, I have much work and introspection to do. And so, in 2019, my goals are not only to uphold kindness, respect, love, and grace, but it’s to fulfil them in such a way that is critical of a broken system. How about you?