From Embracing America to Rediscovering Chinese Heritage

A decade ago, when asked about my origins, my reply would have been quite distinct from today.

The question 'Where are you from?' often feels like a constant reminder for Asian Americans of their perceived outsider status in the U.S. My usual response was a straightforward 'Boston.' I was raised there, fluent in English—defensively asserting my American identity.

Now, I simply express that I grew up in America, but I am ethnically Chinese—a more upfront and less confrontational answer.

Rooted in Two Worlds

My life began in Ohio, but my early childhood was spent in China, while my parents pursued their studies in America, part of the initial wave encouraged by Deng Xiaoping's reforms in the 1980s.

Eventually, we made Boston our home. Growing up, I was enveloped by a community of Chinese and Chinese-Americans, which created a nurturing cultural bubble.

Entering Boston Latin School introduced me to a more global mix of students, including those from China, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Mexico. Despite many students being local, those like me were largely children of immigrants.

This exposure expanded my awareness of the diverse world beyond my cultural enclave.

Blending Cultures

I grew up in a tight-knit Chinese neighborhood and attended a school that welcomed diversity—explicit racism was generally frowned upon in my circles.

Cantonese was the first language I spoke, stemming from my mother's southern Chinese roots, but gradually, I began defaulting to English in conversations with my parents, which eventually led to our household speaking primarily English.

Reflecting on it, I regret not maintaining better fluency in both Cantonese and Mandarin. In my quest to assimilate, stubbornness perhaps outweighed the cultural emphasis my parents could have insisted upon.

As a young person, I was indifferent, but now there is a profound urge within me to reconnect with my heritage. Despite everything, I was never far from Chinese traditions: I attended Chinese language classes, played traditional instruments like the yangqin, and shared in cultural stories and dramas with my mother.

Embarking on a New Chapter in Hong Kong

After studying international relations and economics at Tufts University, I joined a rotational finance program. My first assignment was in asset management in Boston.

For my last rotation, I requested an assignment in Hong Kong, which was granted. Despite usually residing in Boston—with some time abroad in London for study—I was enthused about the prospect of acclimatizing to Hong Kong, a place I'd visited once during my childhood. At 23, I was ready to broaden my horizons.

The move was remarkably seamless. Hong Kong's environment is accommodating, with English widely spoken and excellent infrastructure.

However, my identity as an Asian American means that while visually blending in is easy, my language gives me away. Once I speak, locals often prefer conversing in English, serving as a continual reminder that I don't quite fit in seamlessly.

I am sometimes referred to by the Cantonese term 'gwei mui,' essentially denoting a Westernized Asian girl. Initially, I was embarrassed by this tag, but I have learned to embrace it.

Ironically, after striving in my youth to assimilate entirely into American culture, I now find a yearning to delve deeper into being Chinese, especially absorbing Hong Kong's unique language and culture.

Transforming Perspectives in Asia

Returning to the U.S. now brings a strange sensation of cultural dissonance—the expansiveness and tranquility often feel alien after being accustomed to bustling, narrow Hong Kong streets.

In my youth, America was always painted as extraordinary, with little acknowledgment of the extraordinary aspects of other nations.

This narrative is changing with social media highlighting innovations like China's delivery drones, Japan's state-of-the-art restrooms, and Hong Kong's ultra-efficient transit. These advances contrast starkly with experiences like waiting eternally in the harsh Boston weather for the subway.

While I treasure visits to the U.S. to reconnect with family and friends, embracing the serenity and spaciousness, my real sense of belonging now resonates more with Hong Kong.