Today, I made my monthly trip to the big Chinese grocery store. As I stood there indecisively staring at the gigantic bags of five different types of rice, I felt huge waves of inadequacy washing over me. I started thinking about all the ways I might let my children down, the least of which was selecting the wrong bag of rice.
Would life be easier for them if they had a Chinese mother who knew which Chinese snacks were the most important for the development of their Chinese identity? If M was only one race instead of biracial? If we had stayed in California where they wouldn’t be such minorities? Would they be happier if I cared less about them learning chinese or maybe if I cared more? There are hundreds of ways I have failed and will fail my children and there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it.
This is the thing that no one tells you about becoming a mother: There is nothing scarier than knowing that you can’t be everything your child needs you to be.
Whether we say them out loud or not, I think each of us is afraid that we will not be what our child needs. For me right now, my insecurities revolve around issue of racial and cultural identity. It is a tender spot for me because it doesn’t matter how many books I read or people I talk to, I will never understand what it feels like to live in their skins.
Most of the parents I know are looking for answers. I think this is why so many of us find a parenting philosophy and stick too it. You find your tribe and follow all their rules and you don’t have to feel the pressure of making these decisions on your own. There is no A-Z parenting philosophy I have found that can take away my insecurities. I know the "right" things to say and the "right" things to do but it doesn’t make my worries go away.
To be the white mother to Asian and Hapa children is not such a big deal, day to day. Our lives are just normal lives, our family a normal family. We just are what we are.
In the grand scheme of motherhood I have fared well so far. My daughter is happy and healthy and loved. Her very being is composed of a million miracles I never could have imagined before she was born. And the new baby is just a flutter of hope and dreams on the horizon, but soon I will know him or her too.
To fail these children because of my choices is a hard burden to bear. But the chance that I will fail them because I am who I am– because of something I can’t change– that’s the hardest thing of all. That is the kind of thing that can make a girl cry over a 20 lb. bag of rice.
I understand.
You know, they need love more than any thing else – the right rice, the right cultural influences. I think you’re on the right track.
Feithy
Hey, at least you understand that they’ll face different issues than you did-it’s probably more than A or I got. Jasmine rice is the best, by the way, especially for vietnamese or thai food.
The fact that you are concerned and aware of these issues shows that you are already doing M and baby on the way a great service. I have an idea of who you are, which is why I have no worries that you would EVER fail a child.
Your kid is doomed.
I have that conversation in my head sometimes. It’s funny because I think about keeping my (biracial) daughter connected to her Korean-ness more than her (Korean) father does.
Your kids are lucky to have a mother who’s so concerned about their well-being.
Just wanted to say thanks for writing about these things. When we first began to pursue intl adoption I knew that we would need to deal with race issues however, I think you have challenged me to really go deeper and try harder. So thanks.
I worry everday that I am not adequate enough. What if love isn’t enough, etc. Being a mom is scary stuff.
I think that (good) mothers are wired (probably due to evolution and social implications) to think that we have to be everything for our child. We have to nuture as well protect them. I had a daughter with lethal medical issues and it took me a long time to feel like it wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t save her. We, mothers, adopted or biological, will never be perfect. I think that is the springboard to accepting our imperfections and not operate out of guilt.
Wow, that is how I often feel, although in my case, my children and husband are Jewish, and I am not. I don’t worry about rice, but watch me flip out over a Jesus song!
Sigh…
I think the key (although sometimes I worry) is that we want our kids to simply be happy with who they are and with life.. That is hard…
I totally agree with Amysq and Giao. (And about the rice — I think the southern Chinese prefer jasmine rice, whereas the Japanese, Koreans, and Taiwanese prefer the rounder, slightly stickier kind. Just some observations I’ve made around Vancouver.) I’m a Hong Kong girl who’s grown up in Vancouver, where there is a large number of Asians as well as hapas. My family is pretty traditional (the type who believe that if you’re Chinese, you *must* learn to speak and write the language, know the customs, etc.) and they are fascinated but at the same time disappointed by mixed marriages. They believe that if a child is half-Chinese and half-white (or black, or anything else), they will lose their Chinese identity. I’ve known a number of Chinese-Caucasians and most of them don’t really know much about the Chinese culture, except that you get money during CNY. Amber, I think you are doing an incredibly excellent job of preparing M. and your HFC to get to know their Chinese culture. They are very lucky to have you as their mama.
Beautiful post, on so many levels.
My kids don’t even like rice. And that includes the one who just arrived and was supposedly eating rice three times a day.
Now, gyoza — that’s another matter. They can’t get enough of them.
I do appreciate the tips about jasmine rice, however. I’ll have to give that a try.
Thank you for writing this post. And I do mean that. In some odd way, it makes me feel better, even though I am in a somewhat different position and situation.
I know exactly how that feels!!
just a question……what are you doing about her white heritage? after all, she IS half white.