Asian Identity

Growing up I didn’t want to be Asian, my very cultural heritage was one of my biggest insecurities. My upbringing in Australia had made me want to be as ‘White’ as possible which escalated each year I grew older. A bit of background information about me, I’m first generation Australian, both of my parents were born in Malaysia and have Chinese heritage. They have an abbreviation for people like myself ‘ABC’, Australian Born Chinese. If you are one them you may resonate with what I’m about to share and also just as confused as I was.

Out of all the Asian countries I thought being Chinese was the least cool of them. Don’t they eat dogs in China? How annoying are those Chinese tourists when they come off the bus? Isn’t the government there quite terrifying and controlling everything? Where is this made? China of course! Usually in the world’s spotlight for all the wrong reasons. Even when my mum went to China she said she didn’t have the most pleasant experience and that’s our people. To this day I am yet to visit but I know one things for sure I will learn a thing or two about my conditioning of why my fellow people are they way they are.

For the first time in my life I have been really curious to find out more about my family tree. You can learn a lot about yourself by simply going through old photos and asking questions, and who better than the two who birthed you into this world.

My dad was the first in his family to move abroad which was kind of a big deal especially back in the day. This happened at the young ripe age of 18 years old where he jet set Down Under all on his own to study. He described the culture shock on arrival and mentioned to me that there was some racism he faced whilst migrating to Melbourne. There would be nights he would be crying on the phone to his mum wanting to come back home. Though one thing kept him going, a dream that living in Australia would create a better life for his future family which he hadn’t even had yet (me) and persevered.

My Mother, what a machine of a woman. Loves a good bargain and would recycle anything in the fridge to make a banging Fried Rice. Knowing my parents I think my mum had it covered when raising three boys. She lost her Mother when she was only 2 years old so never got to know her mum and was raised by her older sisters. She told me life was poor and hard growing up in Malaysia and the first opportunity she could study abroad she moved to England to study to become a nurse. I have visited the neighbourhood a few times where they grew up - it’s a place called Batu Pahat. You probably haven’t heard of it before, and you’re probably not missing much so I can see why they both wanted to see life beyond the waters.

In a relationship there will always be a more dominant masculine/feminine presence. I would say my mother is the more Masculine, she simply gets shit done, is quite assertive (even at work so the paramedics I meet keep telling me) and is confident in steering the ship which is the Lim’s. My dad on the other hand is quite gentle, a little bit shy, very generous, design orientated, gets overwhelmed quickly and loves to bake a cake for any occasion. I have seen elements of this dynamic play out in my own relationship. Eva, a strong driven, independent woman, who don’t take none of my shit. After all what we see is what we recreate and after recognising this wanted to make sure that I have a healthy Masculine presence.

My full name is Jason Wee-Siang Lim. My grandfather named my middle name ‘Wee-Siang’. I tried to hide it as much as I can because it sounds Asian as hell. But the name managed to cement its way onto my official documents such as my passport and drivers license meaning I couldn’t escape. I remember this came up in conversation with my older brother whom also has a similar sounding one. He said to me if anyone asks what the W stands for just tell them it’s William or something. I think my brother had jumped ship also on embracing the Chinese within us as he dove deep in the Australian culture dying his hair bleach blonde, also getting right into football and cricket.

When I look back on these moments I was definitely having some cultural identity challenges which I internalised. At one stage I felt guilty for feeling these feelings which is a heavy emotion to carry with you. All my bloodline did was try to give me the best life that they could in a very poor generation. I found out my Grandmother had to tape her breasts down to look like a boy. This was so she didn’t possibly get raped while the Japanese occupied their hometown during WW2, for all that they had to endure to survive, and here I was embarrassed of the name that her husband had given me.

My parents did typical Asian things that an Asian family will do. They sent me to Saturday School to learn Mandarin which after all those years and energy spent I only remember few phrases. What a complicated language to learn. There are characters written in a specific stroke order, there are words called (pinyin) and lines on top of those words. We live in Australia Mum and Dad, they speak English here why would I need to learn Chinese here to communicate! I literally abandoned the language, didn’t think it was a sexy language to begin with compared to something like Spanish. They sent me to learn the piano which I don’t remember how to play a single song, and also they sent me to Kumon for extra curricular study so I could strive well academically, all in which I paid very little attention as I was simply not interested. (Might I add all these things would be super resourceful and ‘cool’ if I knew how to do today.) All I really wanted to do was to play video games. I’ve come to the conclusion that we maybe don’t enjoy things when you're forced to, but that’s Asian culture for you.

Me and my beloved Pokemon Red on Gameboy

 I wish I could have a conversation today with any one of my grandparents. Never did I get a chance to meet any from Mum’s side, Dad’s side I did a handful of times that I can remember and even though I couldn’t speak the language you can understand each other through body language and tone of voice. It’s actually quite surprising to think how much in common me and my Akong (grandfather) were. An amazing photographer winning multiple awards definitely ahead of his time who also took an immense pride in his garden and home. If you're fortunate enough to have your grandparents and even parents around now, I encourage you to ask those questions. You may be pleasantly surprised how much you may learn about yourself and the stories that come with it.

Next up comes the teenage years, where things got more confusing.

Til then, zàijiàn 再见 which means goodbye (one of the words I remember)

Jason