Acculturation – My Awakening
Before I move on to the second part of my trip to India, I think it’s relevant to discuss the kind of tensions I’d been experiencing during the process of coming to terms with my Chinese heritage. According to Merriam-Webster, acculturation is defined as, “cultural modification of an individual, group, or people by adapting to or borrowing traits from another culture”.
The conflict I was experiencing with regards to who I am and my place within my family? I attribute it to the tension created by growing up in a home with a cultural context different from that of the mainstream. According to Barry’s 2-dimensional acculturation model, there are 4 possibilities which may result from the acculturation process:
According to this model, my path growing up as a Canadian-born Chinese led to assimilation; I felt a sense of shame when anything was “too Chinese”. I even avoided properly looking myself in the mirror for years. My eyes were too small, my piggy nose too flat. I wanted to identify as purely Canadian, so as a reflex, outright rejected my culture or origin. In my parents’ case, as Indian-born Chinese, I believe their close-knit community led to separation, but more on that in a later post. To elaborate on my process, I’ll refer to Hofstede’s 6 dimensions of culture, being the “basic issues that society needs to come to term[s] with in order to organize itself”. Here, I’ll focus on 5 out of the 6 dimensions to describe how acculturation tension presented itself in my personal situation:
Individualism – collectivism
Have you ever heard of the concept of face? Well, in a collectivistic culture, face is the reputation or honour of a given person. “Losing face” is when you or someone else has said or done something to question your honour; “saving face” is all about preserving it. In my family, this concept is very much alive. Overarching standards dictate what is deemed honourable and good, while anything that fails to meet the criteria is unworthy or shameful: academic or professional success, a clean and “proper” physical appearance, marriage within the same culture… Within a collectivistic framework, it’s the group’s views, needs, and goals that take precedent over those of the individual.
Having grown up in Canada, a more individualistic society encouraging independence and diversity, life at home felt heavy. In my inner world, there was a tremendous amount of pressure to be a certain way and follow a certain path. My artistic abilities were overlooked. My less than perfect academic abilities in math and science, pitied. Unbeknownst to my parents, it became deeply ingrained in me that my differences meant that who I was wasn’t good enough — a debilitating belief that affected how I moved about the outside world.
Uncertainty avoidance
On Hofstede’s website, I find the description of this cultural dimension somewhat confusing and the rankings provided for certain countries inaccurate. For this reason, I’ll refer you to this website for an explanation of uncertainty avoidance in more detail — that being the degree to which a society places fear and doubt on the unknown. In other words, it’s the need for control and predictability over situations, which, growing up, characterized how my parents navigated everyday life. When a culture ranks high in avoiding uncertainty, having a plan and executing accordingly works well, while straying from the plan or dealing with the unexpected, does not.
At 19, when I found a job in Turin, Italy and hopped on a plane for the very first time, my thirst for change and new opportunities was unquenchable. This desire is what fuelled my many adventures abroad, always in the hopes of expanding my horizons and exploring the parts of myself that were trapped in predictability and routine. Despite my ambitions, however, I was not well equipped.
My problem solving skills were crap and in the face of unexpected situations, such is life, I shut down. This became most evident when I lived in Mexico, where the underlying culture is so easy going and where things almost never seem to go as planned. It took time for me to learn how to embrace change and to let go of the idea that scrapping or adapting plans didn’t equal the end of the world. It’s a valuable lifeskill that I am constantly trying to cultivate.
Power distance
This cultural dimension is all about the extent to which power is distributed, whether top-down, or on more of an equal plane. While individualism is commonly linked to a low power distance, collectivism, on the other hand, often reflects a high power distance. In my family and in many Asian cultures, your elders, whether they be siblings, parents, relatives, teachers — exercise authority that is almost unforgivable to challenge or defy. As long as you respect the rules laid out, there’s no problem.
At home, my Canadian-self scoffed at the idea that age or status had anything to do with deciding between right and wrong. I didn’t waste a second when speaking back to my mother any time I disagreed with her disciplinary measures (and that was almost always). As I transitioned into young adulthood, I made my own decisions without feeling the need to ask for permission. To my parents and other family members, I was difficult and disrespectful.
What’s interesting is that on the outside, however, I never dared speak out or question the role my teachers or other adults had in my life growing up. For some reason, there lacked consistency between how I expressed myself at home and how I did so out in the “real world”. With my family, I fought hard to establish my individuality, whereas in the greater whole, the overwhelming possibilities of who I could be forced me to cling onto what was familiar; I seemed to revert back to the mold of the person my family had shaped.
Short/Long-term orientation
“Hurry up!” and “Don’t waste my time” were the catchphrases of my upbringing. To this day, it’s as if my parents are on a never ending mission to get through as many tasks as possible. Efficiency is gold. With the high expectation to maximize every minute of every hour, however, I noticed how much anxiety this triggered in me (and in my parents). Anything that got in the way of productivity was aggravating, creating an aversion to the little things in life that should normally bring us joy.
In my own life, being so attached to the idea of efficiency was making everyday life inefficient and frustrating. School life or work life took over any existence of a personal or social life. I buried myself in busywork and didn’t know how make time for anything else.
Indulgence
Directly related to what is described above, indulging was NOT an option growing up. On the Hofstede website, they capture my family’s worldview perfectly when they describe a restrained culture, dominated by a “feeling […] that life is hard, and duty, not freedom is the normal state of being”. As you can imagine, growing up in a place where opportunities and possibilities abound, living under this philosophy was tough going. This cultural belief is what pushed me as a kid to sneak downstairs, hide in the bathroom, and scrunch whole Fruit Roll-Ups into a ball, which I’d then devour voraciously. When it came to food, I became indulgent to compensate for the restraint I felt in other areas. When it came to money, I was programmed to save as much as I could and to believe that spending on anything that wasn’t necessary or on sale was bad.
Now in my thirties, on this quest to return to my roots, I’ve gone from rebelling against my culture of origin to now wanting to lead a more integrated life, incorporating different values and aspects of the different cultures that make up who I am. This includes being a Canadian-born, Mexican-adopted Hakka Chinese, whose parents are from India. I also want to be able to look in the mirror and not only see me for everything I am, but to see beauty. Enough with feeling invisible or inadequate!
In this process, I’m comforted by the idea that I have the power to pick and choose which values imbued by my family I wish to keep and which I choose to leave behind for values that better suit my personal and unique story.
While I can appreciate the idea of interdependence between a community of people who share a collective goal, this concept only makes sense to me if all members have a voice and are valued for their uniqueness as individuals. Strength in diversity. Speaking my mind and expressing my individuality is of utmost importance to me, although I can see now how trying to force others to understand is ineffective. With this, I’m learning to practice humility and respect in my communication.
When dealing with uncertainty, I’ve learned in my experience that flexibility is key and that cultivating my problem-solving skills is much more useful in the face of change vs. letting stress and worry take over. Having taken the time to experiment life as it comes and surrendering to the natural flow of things, I now recognize the importance of having plans in order to provide direction and guide my actions. At the same time, I realize how much I do value efficiency and productivity, although not to the point of isolation and burnout. Stopping to rest and enjoy is what makes this life worth living. My current goal is to find a balance between hard work, rest, and play. Although living in times of a pandemic is challenging, I can only place hope in the face of uncertainty and continue to adapt my plans for moving forward.
This whole process of acculturation is a lifelong undertaking that will continue to evolve as I carve out my path. Being able to share my experiences from my trip to India has been an integral part of making sense of the cultural complexities that make up who I am. Thank you for being here as I do the work and for bearing witness to what is unfolding.
Next week, I continue with the second leg of my trip – traveling on my own to Udaipur and Pushkar, Rajasthan.
Other references:
Engleberg, I. N., & Wynn, D. R. (2017). Working in groups: Communication principles and strategies (7th ed.). Pearson.
