Chinese mothers love to compare their children to each other to determine who the better mother is. There is the classic conversation where one mother is always trying to ‘one-up’ the other. They compare how well you did in kindergarten, what extracurricular activities you participated in and how well you did, how much you eat, how hard you work, how lazy you are, what good manners you have, how rude you can be, your cooking skills, especially how well you cook Chinese food, how well you dress, how beautiful you are, how much money you make and what a successful doctor or lawyer you are. Even though I never learned to speak fluent Chinese (one standard by which I was measured), I knew when my mother’s conversation shifted to these topics by the low, melodically condescending tone she adopted when talking with her friends or sisters. My brothers and I knew we were never the “winners” of our mother’s conversations for we were always reminded we were half-white and therefore couldn’t understand or fulfill the expectations of being fully Chinese. Also, I believe my father was not viewed as a “winner” for he accepted the judgments of my mother, ruling with indifference and defeat. When needing to establish his roles as father, breadwinner and man, he ruled with vociferous anger yet intrepid fear. We had, according to my mother, inherited all our shortcomings from my father.

I often think about tenuous family moments and wonder what would have happened if I were emotionally and physically invisible during times of conflict. I think about whether or not this could have changed the dynamics of our estranged relationships but what I do know is that never completely understanding my family’s power in my life, their monumental needs, desires and anxieties remain terrifying.