Many Asian-Americans can attest to a complex relationship with their ethnic roots. It’s no secret that we have mastered the art of assimilation, choosing to perfect our “American” images even at the loss of our cultural roots. And, of course, in any endeavor to assimilate, there are levels to it.
These levels follow the succession of generational immigrants and often become the lines drawn in the sand between Asian-American social circles. My family walked the tightrope on these lines. I am a descendant of Taiwanese parents whose parents are Chinese immigrants who ended up immigrating a second time to the United States before having my generation of children.
Three generations, three countries, many confused kids.
Unfortunately, I felt like I had to make a choice and stand on a single side of this multifaceted coin of ethnic and cultural identity. The world doesn’t like complex and confused. It likes boxes. So I chose the American box for most of my childhood. Then I moved to Thailand and could no longer ignore the fact that I don’t look American, so I chose the Taiwanese box—the more “democratic” box. When I found some freedom from my roots in college, I chose the Asian box and found myself associated with the Korean community at Calvin.
Notice, I never chose the Chinese box.
That box was excluded for a combination of reasons. From politics to bad personal experiences, China became the one part of my past that I couldn’t quite accept. And my few attempts to reconnect with that side of myself always left me feeling out of place, alien, even a little inadequate. I was just too far removed from that part of my genetics; I’m just too American, too Taiwanese, too bad at Mandarin, too third-culture, too complex.
But there was a rather effective solution sitting in front of my face this whole time: C-Dramas.
If I had been able to learn the Korean language and culture through K-Dramas, why hadn’t I tried to do the same with C-Dramas? They could help me with language acquisition and teach me about the social workings of China. Many were also ripe with historical and cultural storylines that could build my knowledge and confidence in my ethnic roots. It seems so obvious. But I ignored C-Dramas for a long time, even as people around me kept recommending them to me.
Why? Because I just couldn’t get over myself.
I used excuse after excuse to avoid watching C-Dramas. They’re too long, the visuals seem unworldly, the writing drags, I’m not used to the use of dubbing, the Beijing accent threw me off, etc, etc. But I never let myself accept the truth: I just didn’t want to face that side of myself head-on.
That was until Pursuit of Jade.
The timing couldn’t have been better. With a long holiday just around the corner, my coworker could not stop singing the praises of this latest C-Drama phenomenon. She convinced me to just watch the first episode and give it a try. Me being the people-pleasing person I am, I just had to make good on that promise. And I think it may have healed a piece of myself.
Pursuit of Jade is set in a fictional era of Chinese history (yes, there is a fictional one just for storytelling), and it borrows the historical elements of the Ming and Song dynasties for its main political plotlines. Many of the customs portrayed in this C-Drama, like marriage, war, judicial court, art, and business, are rooted in China’s long and expansive history. The 40-episode drama takes you on a journey of love, loss, and revenge as its two leads are dragged into the throes of a war on the border. It’s not a perfect show. The writing does drag a little, and its draw almost solely rests on the visual beauty of the main cast (It’s insane how good-looking these people are). But I just couldn’t stop watching it.
I found myself reaching into the depths of my knowledge of China to make sense of what was happening on screen. I ended up constantly asking my mother about the cultural elements of Pursuit of Jade. And although my mother’s somewhat long explanations would sometimes be overshadowed by Zhang LingHe’s appearance on screen (I’m serious, I’ve never seen a more beautiful man), I felt like my heart was beginning to open up to the pieces of myself labeled “China” that I had ignored for so long.
I will always have a complex relationship with my ethnic identity; there’s no escaping that. I’m just glad that the one piece of it that I couldn’t seem to forgive has been given a second chance to exist as an additional box I get to check off.
Priscilla Chang (’25) majored in English literature and minored in linguistics at Calvin. She now works as a missionary teacher in Thailand, teaching language arts at Chiang Rai International Christian School. Apart from her love of reading and writing, she is also obsessed with learning languages, dancing, and watching the latest Korean dramas.
