Kelli Ching9/24/2010

Chinese White Girl from Hawai’i

White-skinned, Chinese-eyed. Half Asian, half Caucasian. Born and

raised in Hawai’i. Yes, undoubtedly I am a woman of culture, but concerning

ethnicity I am split right down the middle, so which ethnic bubble do I fill in

on my college application? Asian. Why? Because it distinguishes me from the

average American teen who is predominantly Caucasian. I am a living

melting pot of Hawaiian and American culture mixed with Chinese,

Macedonian, English, French, and Irish heritage. I, Kelli Mei Li Ching, am a

Chinese White girl from Hawai’i.

Dark-skinned, Indian-structured. Full Mexican. Born and raised in

Sacramento, California. Yes, undoubtedly Richard Rodriguez is a man of

culture - Hispanic culture. Without hesitation, Richard would move his pencil

to the Hispanic/Latino circle for his college application because it is the

correct representation of his race. This also distinguishes him from the

average American teen who is predominantly Caucasian. However, what it

does not distinguish him from is the hundreds of other Latinos who are

socially disadvantaged, when Richard is not. Richard Rodriguez is a Chicano

intellectual from Sacramento.

The Rodriguez family was the most important aspect of Richard’s early

years. Richard says Español is his family’s language. It was private and “the

language of joyful return” that made him “feel embraced by the sounds of

[his parents’] words” (15). From dining room conversations over dinner to

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parties with his relatives, Richard always heard the intimate sounds of his

relatives speaking their native tongue. He goes on to say that the sounds

said: “I am addressing you in words I never use with los gringos. I recognize

you as someone special, close, like no one outside. You belong with us. In

the family,” (15).

This is the same feeling I get when I talk in pidgin (Hawaiian slang).

Whether I am conversing with family, fellow Westmont students from

Hawai’i, or with high school friends, there is an intangible connection and

inclusiveness that I feel when we excitedly say, “Ho brah, get ono food

today!” and my mainland friends would not understand. The culture of

Hawai’i revolves around “Aloha” and “Ohana,” which is general kindness and

treating everyone like family. It is a culture of collectivists in that the family,

group, or team is more important than the individuals who make it up. We

depend on each other for favors, and reciprocate them as well. The people of

Hawai’i find their identity in their ‘Ohana and are always looking out for each

other. We drive with “Aloha”, by allowing drivers to cut in front of us or

thanking people for allowing us in a with a shaka or a wave. The general

person in Hawai’i will pick up random trash on the ground because we

“Malama the ‘Aina” (take care of the land). Furthermore, at potlucks or

gatherings, everyone brings food to share with John, his wife, sister, nephew,

and dog, and will go out of their way to make sure each person has more

than enough food to eat. Treating our neighbors like family, we would be

more than happy to babysit the kids or lend a lawn mower to someone who

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needs it. When meeting new people, a warm, friendly hug is the appropriate

greeting, not a stiff handshake as is custom on the mainland. What

mainland people call sandals or flip flops, we call slippers. We shower every

day, sometimes twice a day without fail, as opposed to mainland culture

which seems to deem a daily shower unnecessary. Traditional Hawaiian food

includes Kalua pig, haupia (a coconut dessert), lomi salmon, poi, lau lau, and

our one essential staple, rice. That was the one of the biggest differences in

my moving to California; the lack of fresh, moist, perfectly cooked white rice.

Everyone, strangers included, is generally trusted and welcomed with open

arms, until he proves he is undeserving of this genuine friendliness. The

“shared assumptions, values, and beliefs” of the people of Hawai’i result in

these friendly, warm, loving “characteristic behaviors” that Craig Storti talks

about in Figuring Foreigners Out.

Richard describes the intimacy he feels with his family by observing

their sounds. He explains how “The communication of intimacy passes

through the word to enliven its sound. But it cannot be held by the word. It

depends not on word but on person,” (37). He gives an example of this when

his grandmother calls out to him in front of his los gringos friend, and he

does not translate her message to the friend because “Any translation would

distort the deepest meaning of her message,” (31). We more fully

understand this when Richard tells us, “The message of intimacy could never

be translated because it was not in the words she had used but passed

through them,” (31). It would be impossible for Richard’s friend to really

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understand the meaning of her message, even though Richard could

translate it word for word for him. We are human and we yearn for intimacy.

We long to feel connected, included, related, and associated with people so

we gain a sense of purpose, belonging, and most importantly love. Richard

felt it with his family and their shared Spanish knowledge and daily

conversation. I feel it when I am home on the islands I was born and raised

on, as well as through conversation in my native tongue, pidgin.

Richard carries the label of “minority student” which he says with

“irony sharpened by self-pity […] with anger,” a term that was “foisted on

[him]” and he wrongfully accepted it (153). While physically, Richard’s dark

skin and family heritage do classify him as part of the Hispanic minority, he

is not socially disadvantaged, which is what the term “minority” became

synonymous with during the civil rights movement of 1967. Richard had

received a quality primary and secondary education, he lived in the nicer

part of town, and he came from a middle class family. The true Hispanic

minority did not have all these privileges, and yet Richard still accepted the

benefits that were intended for socially disadvantaged Spanish-American

minorities.

Richard admits, “I permitted myself to be prized. Even after publicly

voicing objections to affirmative action, I accepted its benefits,” (163). By

indicating his being part of the “minority” he received financial aid and

national prestige that he might not have won had he circled a different race

on his application. Yet, he still took advantage of his classification as a

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minority, and used this label to earn national honors and prestige, to stir up

controversy and argument in the case of affirmative action, and to help

educate white and nonwhite students. He is publicly against affirmative

action, yet he did not make a stand to live out his beliefs until he faced too

many job offers served to him on a silver platter. People would comment on

Richard’s employment successes, “ ‘I guess they need their minority,’ ” (178)

which would silence and burn Richard inside as the realness of his internal

conflict was exposed. Due to his success as a “Chicano intellectual” people

swarm him with job offers and he takes advantage of this special treatment

he receives and does not apply for any jobs since he knows they will come to

him. It takes the frustration and anger of a former professor to open

Richard’s eyes to the disrespectful act of using his minority card as a crutch

to succeed.

At my high school, you could say I was among the minority being half

Caucasian and half Chinese. The majority of the student population at ‘Iolani

School was Asian – all kinds of Asian: Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese,

Filipino, and Korean. Then there was the handful of Hawaiian or Samoan

students, then the two handfuls of full Caucasian students. There were

absolutely no Black students at my school for reasons I do not know and

never cared enough to inquire about. While I did stand out physically, being

taller than most of my friends (even though I am very short compared to

girls here on the mainland), I did not feel alienated in any way, and I really

did finish my high school career with a color-blind outlook. Generally, we

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were all equal in each other’s eyes and in the eyes of our teachers regarding

race, and very rarely did any type of discrimination or racism issues ever

arise. We were known for our academics. ‘Iolani School has acquired a name

for itself through the multiple math, economics, physics, and history

competitions we have won; some even at the national level. Generally,

students at my high school studied tirelessly for exams, spent hours on

homework every night, and were fiercely competitive with each other in

achieving the highest grades on quizzes or tests. For how much our parents

paid for us to attend ‘Iolani School ($15,000 per year), we owed it to them to

really give every assignment our best effort, and we had to because our

teachers’ standards were very high. We were a nationally ranked college

preparatory school, so we were basically preparing for college since our first

day of seventh grade. I loved my high school experience and the high stress

that academics caused led me to be well-prepared for college, which I truly

appreciate. The point here, however, is to say that as a mostly Asian

populated school, we generally did live up to the stereotype that people of

Asian ethnicity are more intelligent, and our school’s average SAT and ACT

scores were proof.

I, too, will admit to leaning on my Chinese/Asian side when applying for

scholarships or college acceptance. In a predominantly Caucasian country,

my Chinese background is one of the few characteristics that distinguish me

from every other American teen seeking a college education and financial

help. In a completely even match up with another applicant, the fact that I

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am half Chinese gives me the upper hand simply because the school can

tally another “Asian” on their assessment of cultural distribution on campus.

However, more importantly, I can share my cultural life and heritage with

students, teachers, and faculty on campus.

Not many students here at Westmont College have great grandparents

who migrated to Hawai’i from China to work in the sugar cane plantations.

My Kung Kung (grandfather) was in the military and worked on airplanes. My

Popo (grandmother) makes phenomenal Chinese noodles, jook (rice soup),

and gau (sticky dessert) to celebrate Chinese New Year, during which we say

“Kung Hee Fat Choy!” The stickiness of the gau represents the closeness and

togetherness of family and relationships, both of which have great

importance in Chinese families. The noodles represent life, which is why

Chinese noodles are usually long, which promotes long life. Every holiday,

birthday, or special occasion, I receive leecee from my Popo or my dad, with

a little money in it. The wallet-sized red envelope has a gold Chinese

character on it and the contents are supposed to bring good luck.

Furthermore, this summer I learned how to play a Chinese card game called

Mahjong. The object is to collect runs and pairs and flowers, with certain

pictures having more value than others. Chinese calligraphy is used for

numbers and to indicate the winds that determine the scoring. The presence

of these cultural traditions in my life contributes to my character and

individuality. Another characteristic I get from my Chinese blood is money

consciousness. Also known as being “chang” or cheap, Chinese people are

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known to be frugal with their money and to save anything that can be used

in some other way. I take pride in my understanding of the value of money

and try to avoid spending it frivolously. On the contrary, generosity is also a

key part to Chinese culture, and my Popo is always making sure we kids

have enough food, school supplies, clothes and basically is always there to

cover any of our needs. All of these cultural characteristics are signature to

my character, and by accepting me to Westmont College I am given the

opportunity to share these cultural values and beliefs with my peers.

The recent stress and increasing importance of cultural diversity on

school campuses is in my favor, and while I am proud of my heritage and

cultural background, I cannot help but feel guilty that my ethnicity makes me

more favorable than someone else. While we like to treat people with a

color-blind mindset, this favoritism clearly shows a color-conscious society in

giving me an extra $1,000 for an essay I wrote on my cultural background

and how it has shaped me into who I am today. Yes, my culture is immensely

important to me, and yes it has been a prominent influence in developing

me, Kelli Mei Li Ching. I do not mean to undermine my culture in any way; I

love my heritage and I truly appreciate my Chinese ancestry and embrace

the uniqueness of it. I aim to truly share my culture with everyone on

campus, which is the intention of the college noting my race in the first

place. I hope not to act the way Richard did in hypocritically wanting his

success to be accredited to him as a person, not as a Chicano intellectual,

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yet still taking advantage of the “minority” benefits to which he was

physically, but not socially entitled to.

Richard makes an amazing point when he says, “To improve the

education of disadvantaged students requires social changes which

educational institutions alone cannot make” (162). Richard explains how the

socioeconomic status of a family is extremely influential of a child’s

educational opportunity and success. But this is true for advantaged

students as well. Socioeconomic difficulties sometimes hinder intelligent

students whose families cannot afford to send them to proper schools that

will challenge them and encourage them to continue expanding their

knowledge. Richard says that parents need to earn steady incomes, provide

shelter and adequate meals for their children, and basically form a safe

environment for their children to learn and grow in, but some parents just do

not have the means or motivation to do so. A healthy home environment is

just as important as a healthy school environment with knowledgeable

teachers and acceptable school supplies. Children are most vulnerable and

susceptible to growth and learning during their elementary years, which is

why it is so important they receive a firm, foundational education in their

early childhood. Without this fundamental preparation in the home

environment for growth and learning in the school environment, children are

immediately set back and disadvantaged because they are improperly

prepared socially to excel mentally in the classroom.

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Richard had the social means to overcome the obstacles he faced

culturally being Hispanic and speaking Spanish in an English school and city.

Had his parents not encouraged him to assimilate to the classroom setting at

school and obey the desires and instruction of the nuns, he would not have

succeeded in becoming educated the way he did. The summer before my

freshman year of college, my Kung kung told me, “You have to adjust. Things

are different up there, but you just have to adjust,” in a calm voice, from

years of life gone by. And while it was very clear, simple advice, it had

immense truth to it. Everywhere I go, people, environment, buildings,

everything will be slightly or dramatically different from what I am used to.

Language, mannerisms, chivalry, life styles – God made people different for a

reason, and adjusting to and accepting these differences is part of life. All of

Richard’s success in the subject of English and writing was a result of his

parents’ initial desire for him to conform to the American education and

culture. However, what Richard and his parents did not foresee is that by

becoming an educated American citizen, Richard would lose his Hispanic

culture and language, a sacrifice he could not reverse no matter how hard he

tried. What they also did not foresee is the dramatic change education would

bring to the Rodriguez family.

Richard describes part of the transformation from home life to early

education describing “the kind of allegiance the young student might have

given his mother and father only days earlier, he transfers to the teacher,

the new figure of authority” (52). The day the nuns walk into his home, he

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describes, “The clash of two worlds, the faces and voices of school intruding

upon the familiar setting of home” (19). The two opposing extremes of his

home and the classroom come face to face when the nuns enter Richard’s

home to convince his parents the importance of English. Richard is initially

angry at his parents for encouraging him to pursue classroom English, but

once school becomes more attractive to him and he becomes more excited

about it, he turns into the over-achieving student, eager to learn and answer

every question proposed by the teacher. Immediately his home-life changes

as he talks to his classmates and teachers more than his family, English

becomes his comfortable language, and he starts isolating himself at home,

consumed in his reading. Richard writes that he “never forgot that schooling

irretrievably changed [his] family’s life” (53) from one of intimate, genuine

relationship, to isolated, distant silence. At the end of his childhood, Richard

records his feelings, “I felt that I had shattered the intimate bond that had

once held the family close,” (30) and he did; He severed it by acquiring

English knowledge. Richard spends the rest of his life yearning to get that

intimacy back and comments, “I feel envious, envious of their brazen

intimacy,” (34) when he hears some black teens conversing on the bus. He

never does return to that intimacy, and achieves the American dream of

success, but ends his career in loneliness.

I went to a medium-sized public elementary school called Ahuimanu

Elementary School. Ahuimanu was one of the better public K-6 schools

around in the sense that academically we had a gifted and talented program,

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which I was in since the third grade, and we had enough teachers so that

every grade was split into class sizes of around twenty students. Unlike

Richard, I had a very easy, smooth adjustment to elementary school. There

was no language barrier between my classmates, teachers, and I, and I was

very comfortable in the classroom. Socioeconomically, my family was

middle-classed and we lived in a nice area, which was Ahuimanu was in also.

Fortunately for my siblings and me, Ahuimanu gave us an opportunity to

excel as intelligent students and leaders, but also had special education

classes for disadvantaged students or students who needed more academic

attention.

My childhood years were full of color-blindness on the outside, but the

unspoken understanding was that most children of dark, Hawaiian or Filipino

skin were not as intellectually bright as us haole (Caucasian) and Asian

students. In a non-demoralizing way, they just simply needed more time to

process new concepts or to sound out words when reading. They were

expected to be tough, rough, and athletic but not smart, bright, and

intellectual. But then again, how smart, bright, or intellectual can you be in

elementary school? Well, you could win the D.A.R.E essay-writing contest

(which I did). You could earn star awards every month for Respect,

Responsibility, Resourcefulness, Resiliency, or Relationships (which I did). It

was not Veni Manu or Danilo Martinez that won the essay contest; it was Kelli

Ching, Andrew Johnson, and Tyler Yamamoto. But who got to race in the

physical fitness competition every year? Veni Manu and Danilo Martinez. This

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classification was an unspoken truth within our elementary school that

everyone accepted for the most part. We all knew these truths, but the

school created an environment so healthy that no teasing or discrimination

came out of these unspoken observations. Furthermore, from my

observation, my teachers did not look at us through the deficit thinking

model, but rather encouraged us and tried to congratulate our strengths.

In Hawai’i there is a school system called Kamehameha Schools in

which Queen Lili’uokalani left hundreds of thousands of dollars in her will to

educate native Hawaiians. To this day, the school only admits children of

Hawaiian blood and has no need or reason for diversity. This being a color-

conscious system, it is still functioning today because it benefits the

minority. Ironically, the Hawaiian people are the minority on their own land.

The native Hawaiian activist group called Ka’u Inoa shows television

interviews of young and old people of Hawaiian ancestry explaining their

economic hard times and pleading for government help. I, not having even a

drop of Hawaiian blood in me, still feel a sense of loyalty to these people

simply because I was born and raised in Hawai’i. I have great respect for and

fascination with the native people of Hawai’i and their diminishing culture.

There are less than a dozen full-blooded Hawaiian people left with any

remains of true Hawaiian culture and tradition, and to lose that or detract

from it would be a shameful tragedy. The Kamehameha Schools are an

example of the unspoken observations of my elementary school years

because Kamehameha Schools are known for their athleticism, but not for

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their academics. Their football, basketball, and volleyball teams are always

strong competitors in athletic state championships, but their math team

never performs as skillfully.

The stereotypical American child has a primary education containing

recess, playfulness, abc’s, 123’s, and popularity. I always felt I was among

the smartest in my grade in elementary school. I caught on to new concepts

quickly, I was in the gifted and talented program, I was a student council

representative, then later the study council secretary. So while Richard was

“scholarship boy”, I was “GT girl”. I was similar to Richard in my eagerness to

raise my hand and answer questions proposed by the teacher, and I loved to

read. However, I did not read as obsessively as Richard did (completing the

100 book long list his teacher gave him). Unlike Richard, playing sports was

an essential part of my childhood. I played softball since the second grade

and paddled starting in fourth grade. I took up volleyball in fifth grade, then

eventually water polo in seventh. So while reading and writing were

Richard’s outlets for his energy and frustration, sports were my outlet.

Richard hid in a closet reading his books; I ran bases and spiked volleyballs.

I was all about popularity in elementary school, and my friends and I

were the “It Girls”. We wore the coolest clothes; we had a secret code

language that we wrote letters to each other in, we made exclusive plans to

build a clubhouse in my backyard and had even brainstormed ways to raise

funds to pay for it. You had to contribute to the fund if you wanted to be in

the club. My family also contributed to my popularity. We looked wealthy,

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because both my parents drove Mercedes Benzes (one a business car, the

other bought on a really good deal), we lived in a beautiful two-story house

in a nice area, my sister attended one of the most expensive private schools

on the island, and my dad was lawyer. But we were far from wealthy, and

underneath what everyone perceived as a perfect, well off, happy family,

was marital tension, insecurity, and debt.

My life was basically made in elementary, and I still have yet to

understand why God blessed me so much in giving me what seemed like a

perfect childhood. But now that I think about it, it was not even close to

perfect. I was always defiant of my parents – stubborn, constantly throwing

tantrums and refusing to obey their wishes. I remember sitting defiantly on

our tan carpeted staircase, arms crossed over my knees, waiting for my

mom or dad to apologize to me because I was right and they were wrong,

and there was nothing they could do to change that. I even packed a

backpack and “ran away” well, down the street, to prove a point that I was

important and they would miss me! Boy was I a brat! I expected people to

come to me. And they did. Now I want to say this “culture” that I

experienced as a child was an American one. An American culture of

individualist thinking and always trying to be the best, or at least better than

others.

It was not until Richard was seven years old that he actually felt his

was an American citizen. For me on the other hand, every day in the

beginning of class for kindergarten, first, second, and third grade, we recited

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the pledge of allegiance, to the flag, of the United States of America, and to

the republic for which it stands, one nation, under God, individual, with

liberty and justice for all. But we were just children, we did not understand

nor could we comprehend the meaning and substance in this allegiance. We

were honoring the liberty and justice of our nation, under God (whom I just

assumed every one believed in). We had no idea or even the slightest grasp

of the immensity that a pledge to our American citizenship held. We just said

it because our teacher told us to, just like Richard conforms simply because

the nuns tell him to.

It is amazing what teachers can convince their students to do when

they are at such young, vulnerable stages in their childhood. They are just

starting to develop their ideas about who they are, what other things are,

and how the world works. If the nuns had told Richard the world is flat, he

would have believed them because he valued and treasured his teachers and

put them on a towering pedestal. My elementary school teachers definitely

impacted me and always encouraged us to be individuals. I distinctly

remember a poster in my second grade teacher’s room that showed a bunch

of crimson red roses, then one white one, obviously sticking out by

contrasting color. She told us to be the white rose: “be different” but “be

yourself”. The two phrases were such American things to say, and while it

seemed to have made perfect sense coming out of my teacher’s mouth,

throughout my life, I have learned the complexity of these paradoxical

phrases. Richard sums up the inconsistency of the American culture when he

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says, “In public, […] full individuality is achieved, paradoxically, by those

who are able to consider themselves members of the crowd,” (26). In other

words, he gain his public individuality by becoming part of the majority in

learning English. Likewise, my second grade teacher encouraged my

individuality by becoming the white rose, which actually implies becoming

like all the other crimson roses trying to be white. Nevertheless, I am a

strong believer in the American dream of raising a handsome family of five,

buying a simple house with a white picket fence, and earning a decent living

as a teacher. I am sure this American dream is obtainable, but not without a

lot of conformity, and cultural diversity along the way.

I feel special and blessed to say that I am of mixed race and a living

representation of merging cultures. My culture defines me and has

distinguished me from others throughout my entire life. What is most

valuable about my Chinese and Caucasian blood or my experience living in

Hawai’i and being an American citizen is not that it looks good on a resume

or the “wow” factor received by people who learn I am from a beautiful

tropical island with hot surfer dudes. Rather, the value in my culture comes

from the intimacy I feel with my family and relatives, with my brothers and

sisters in Hawai’i, and my fellow American citizens. This connection, this

intimacy, is not “created by a particular language; it is created by intimates,”

(32). These intimates, these people who define me and my culture, are the

most important part of it all. Richard takes his intimates for granted and

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ends up losing them along the journey of his English education. What Richard

has learned to love and lose, he had from the very beginning: intimacy.

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