Oh, Lily, reading this makes me both sad and inspired as you stand up for your choices in the world. I cannot imagine your pain, but I am glad that you're writing about this and so beautifully.
Thank you so much for reading my poem with deep empathy, Liza! I've lived with this great burden for decades, and even though my mom doesn't show her disappointment anymore (maybe she has given up), I can still feel the pressure every day as I witness the great achievements of fellow Asian Americans.
Funny thing is, writing about my mom's American Dream made me realize I have a more concrete vision of what she wants than what I desire.
Oh Lily, the weight of these expectations on a young person is heavy. To break away from them, even harder. I wonder if for her generation, the path was obvious. The harder path is finding freedom and meaning for ourselves.
Thank you, Steve, for your thoughtful reflections. It has indeed been a heavy burden. Children whose parents went through the Cultural Revolution and the Great Famine in China often carry a similar burden as our parents felt deeply deprived, mostly materially but also in terms of personal choices. So they put a disproportionate amount of expectation on their kids. It's so true what you said about finding freedom and meaning being harder. It's true on the societal level and also true on the personal level. The paths toward these goals seem to always require a good fight (or many)!
Wow, my friend, what a powerful poem! I know the cost of writing it (and living it) and I am proud of your for transforming your experience so viscerally and fiercely onto the page, in this imagined dialogue between mother and daughter. At last, you have amassed the power to set yourself free from those maternal expectations and I am in awe of your long hard painful journey to get here. It is beautiful to witness!
Hi Amy, thank you for seeing what lies behind the journey toward self-expression and self-determination. That journey has been long and arduous, and will likely last for a long time to come. But I'm proud of myself for having the courage to speak up for my wounded inner child. I so appreciate your standing by my side and feeling proud of me. 🤗💕
Hi Lily, your experience sounds like many of my Indian immigrant friends who were expected to have arranged marriages and have had to live lives of rigid parental expectations. Doctor. Lawyer. Engineer. The three allowed professions. They’ve struggled to find balance between pleasing their parents and living full lives.
Your poem resonates with me because I understand oppression, but in different forms than you experienced from your mom wanting you to be a doctor and live the life that she dreamed of.
My grandmother had an arranged marriage and was never allowed the freedom of an education. Her husband beat her and her kids and they told her to be a good wife.
My mom lived a life of more freedom but she had a career and all the housework. That was society telling her who she had to be.
My parents let me be fully who I was at all times and that was a wonderful gift. It’s surprising given my dad and mom are conservative and traditional. But they are both independent quirky people. And they let me be and do and go where ever i wanted. My mom especially was an exceptional mom always supporting me playing sports and traveling alone. They both recognized I was going to live my life more like a man than a woman early on and never stopped me or told me not to do anything. Your poem makes me more grateful to have been loved for being whatever version of me I wanted to be.
I’m glad you can express yourself in your art and fully be you despite having been loaded down with expectations that don’t fit.
Thanks so much, Amy, for sharing with me how you resonate with the emotional truths expressed in my poem.
First, your Indian friends: Both Indian and Chinese immigrants of our generation have experienced the restrictive and controlling aspects of our collectivist cultures. I had an Indian coworker who was subject to an arranged marriage and it turned out to be an abusive one. While I have not had to be forced into an arranged marriage, the expectations of my parents acted like an invisible hand-cuff. Their disapproval of the men I had chosen for myself became the bane of my existence.
Then, your grandmother and mother: What they were subject to as a by-product of the traditional patriarchy society may seemed to be things of the past era, but come to think of it, it was just a couple of decades ago. While many more opportunities are available to women nowadays, we are seeing a significant backlash in the U.S. on women's rights and what our mothers' generation had achieved are under threat today.
Lastly, about your upbringing: It's fascinating for me to read how your parents, while conservative, have allowed and encouraged you to do whatever you wanted to pursue and freely become the person that you are.
I have always dreamt of that freedom. I am not yet able to feel fully free, as I still live in the guilt that's a by-product of my upbringing and my culture, which emphasizes "filial piety" as the No. 1 virtue. I hope I will get to have a taste of true freedom to live my life unapologetically one day.
I think in some ways you're striving to be accepted for what is at the heart of what's considered American Individuality and may be why in cultures with more shared social responsibility it's not present. The reason my parents wouldn't have considered suppressing who I was is because this isn't a liberal or conservative value, it's an American value seen as what makes us so prosperous. The wild idea from the freak who made millions is revered. Rugged individualism is at our core. I could be different because being unique and outspoken and a bit wild is who we are. If you didn't grow up believing in that you don't have the luxury of giving that same freedom to your own children because it's not a core value. These are all hunches on my part and I'd love to hear your opinion.
Amy, this is so interesting to hear. When the "rugged individualism" value is seen as the No. 1 virtue, a tremendous amount of freedom was allowed in your upbringing.
I have thought about the American "rugged individualism" vs. collectivism in much of the rest of the world for quite some time. They seem to be rooted in two extremes in the history of nations/cultures. Those two extremes have become myths and traditions. "The freak making millions" is part of the beloved narrative of "from rags to riches" and the "lone cowboy." It has captivated the American psyche since the continent was colonized, and is also one of the main drawing factors for immigrants to "make it big" here. Unfortunately, when taken to the extreme, the overemphasis of this quality has led to many social ills, which we are witnessing today.
Whereas other parts of the world that have gone through centuries of agrarian economy and feudalism tend to value interdependence because it was central to survival. Due to the fear of what had happened in the past, such as famine and massive sufferings, our ancestors made sure that their survival lessons got codified and passed down in the form of rigid traditions.
In both cases, these codes, or "core values" as you mentioned, govern the behavior of each new generation through parenting, schooling, culture and, in recent times, mass media. They are, in a way, projections of the fears and aspirations that lived inside our ancestors.
Taken to the personal level, I think that both individualism and interdependence exist inside of our soul. They are two ends of a spectrum. For me, because individualism and freedom aren't "built-in" parts of my conditioning, I have to forge new paths to find them. The collectivist virtues and values that I grew up with are so strong and rigid, that they feel like invisible bars of a prison for me. Wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to find a golden mean?
On the other end of the spectrum, I think that the American rugged individualism has perhaps overemphasized self-sufficiency, to such an extent that interdependence may be regarded in a derogatory sense as codependence. That's why when I related with my ex from my default cultural conditioning, I was put down as being codependent and my effort to connect was considered "needy."
I agree that rugged individualism is something I also suffer from. I joke about being that woman on the subway hauling a washing machine up the steps or driving my coffin to my funeral. I believe strongly that I must be able to literally do everything myself or I may actually die. I mean that seriously. I prepare for all scenarios because I expect to have to survive everything alone. Think everything from post-apocalyptic world to baking a pie. I am in this alone.
It's also likely a partial result of the male loneliness epidemic, where men were not taught to create networks like women, and where men like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos can amass so much wealth and power and see no reason to support communities.
I lived in Korea for two years and saw how interdependent communal living allowed 5-year-olds to ride the subways alone because everyone was responsible for the children, and how orderly society was because people were expected to behave in certain ways.
While individualism does foster great strength and creativity, it also leaves us marooned on an island if we don't couple it with connecting ourselves with the community. I've spent the last decade working to make sure I have both, but still gravitate toward that rugged individualism. Like you, it's hard to let go of our roots, but maybe unlike you, I don't feel it hinders my life much. In fact, I think it's allowed me to overcome so much because it's forced me to push through my fears and keep surviving. But my exposure to collective societies have made me realize I need my people for my mental health too. So, it's a much better life these days.
I feel you 100% when it comes to surviving alone. The images of a woman dragging a washing machine up the subway stairs and one who drives her coffin to her funeral made me giggle... yea, that would be me too. I have hauled extremely heavy grocery up and down the subway stairs countless times. In fact, coming from such a collectivist culture as mine, I am considered hyper individualistic and independent by my fellow folks, esp women. Perhaps it's because I've lived in Sweden, and was deeply influenced by the "Viking Women Warrior" archetype. I had a female coworker there who was able to build an entire house by herself!
But as I get older, when body started to scream with pain and illness, I realized my mortal limitations. It's then that I regret not having really invested in building my own community. But circumstances had been unfavorable, especially when I constantly dealt with the effects of intergenerational trauma and partner abuse. Now that I finally feel committed to get started, I find a lot of headwinds... Am I too old to start? Well, I'm not ready to give up just yet.
I'm very glad to hear that you have found your happy middle and have your community to support you.
It’s literally never too late to build community. You can build it in a nursing home. I mean honestly you have to build and rebuild it all the time. People come and go so there is no built. Just start with one person and go from there. Do the say yes to everyone. Ask people out on platonic dates. It’s fun.
Wow, this is really encouraging, Amy. Thank you for the ideas and the "how." I literally lost the skills and courage to try again and again after many "failures," but knowing that it's normal to build and rebuild community all the time--that makes all the difference for me. Thank you!
Lily, “why aren’t you in a white coat”—is definitely the stand out phrase in this one! So true, so real, and so vivid. Hope you’re well this week, Lily! 🙌🏼
Hey Thalia, I'm glad to connect with you again and hope you're well! It means a ton to me to hear that you resonate with my sentiments in this poem, particularly that heavy burden of immigrant parents' high expectations. Although my parents did not specifically want me to become a doctor, the example I use in the poem aims to reflect the emotional truth felt by countless Asian Americans.
I know this dance all too well. All the patriarchal, hierarchical, capitalist, misogynist, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, colonialist expectations — all those suffocating layers we were told to strive for, as if they would somehow grant us worth, love, belonging. They never do.
What did I inherit from this so-called life path?
Trauma upon trauma. Ostracism. Bullying. Ridicule. Constant comparison, judgment, categorisation. Labels slapped on me at every turn. And above all: the demand to function — 200%, 220,000 work hours across 35 years. Endless fatigue. Stress. Dissociation. Mental collapse.
I read your words, and I feel the breath of freedom in them — even when the weight of expectation tries to press it back down. It takes courage to say, “This dream was never mine.” And even greater courage to choose your own path, to breathe, to create, to love freely and fully.
It means a lot that you stand beside me in deep understanding. I feel you! I know how it is to be ground to the ground by all the systems of oppression that seek to extract our labor and keep us small and suffering. The so-called achievements are dangling glamorous carrots to lure us deeper into the systems. We say: "No more!" And no one can take away the freedom that we are born with, because it resides inside our soul and will remain with us forever. Being awake means feeling pain along with the full spectrum of emotions. But awake we'll remain, so we can be fully human.
Oh, Lily, reading this makes me both sad and inspired as you stand up for your choices in the world. I cannot imagine your pain, but I am glad that you're writing about this and so beautifully.
Thank you so much for reading my poem with deep empathy, Liza! I've lived with this great burden for decades, and even though my mom doesn't show her disappointment anymore (maybe she has given up), I can still feel the pressure every day as I witness the great achievements of fellow Asian Americans.
Funny thing is, writing about my mom's American Dream made me realize I have a more concrete vision of what she wants than what I desire.
Oh Lily, the weight of these expectations on a young person is heavy. To break away from them, even harder. I wonder if for her generation, the path was obvious. The harder path is finding freedom and meaning for ourselves.
Thank you, Steve, for your thoughtful reflections. It has indeed been a heavy burden. Children whose parents went through the Cultural Revolution and the Great Famine in China often carry a similar burden as our parents felt deeply deprived, mostly materially but also in terms of personal choices. So they put a disproportionate amount of expectation on their kids. It's so true what you said about finding freedom and meaning being harder. It's true on the societal level and also true on the personal level. The paths toward these goals seem to always require a good fight (or many)!
Wow, my friend, what a powerful poem! I know the cost of writing it (and living it) and I am proud of your for transforming your experience so viscerally and fiercely onto the page, in this imagined dialogue between mother and daughter. At last, you have amassed the power to set yourself free from those maternal expectations and I am in awe of your long hard painful journey to get here. It is beautiful to witness!
Hi Amy, thank you for seeing what lies behind the journey toward self-expression and self-determination. That journey has been long and arduous, and will likely last for a long time to come. But I'm proud of myself for having the courage to speak up for my wounded inner child. I so appreciate your standing by my side and feeling proud of me. 🤗💕
Hi Lily, your experience sounds like many of my Indian immigrant friends who were expected to have arranged marriages and have had to live lives of rigid parental expectations. Doctor. Lawyer. Engineer. The three allowed professions. They’ve struggled to find balance between pleasing their parents and living full lives.
Your poem resonates with me because I understand oppression, but in different forms than you experienced from your mom wanting you to be a doctor and live the life that she dreamed of.
My grandmother had an arranged marriage and was never allowed the freedom of an education. Her husband beat her and her kids and they told her to be a good wife.
My mom lived a life of more freedom but she had a career and all the housework. That was society telling her who she had to be.
My parents let me be fully who I was at all times and that was a wonderful gift. It’s surprising given my dad and mom are conservative and traditional. But they are both independent quirky people. And they let me be and do and go where ever i wanted. My mom especially was an exceptional mom always supporting me playing sports and traveling alone. They both recognized I was going to live my life more like a man than a woman early on and never stopped me or told me not to do anything. Your poem makes me more grateful to have been loved for being whatever version of me I wanted to be.
I’m glad you can express yourself in your art and fully be you despite having been loaded down with expectations that don’t fit.
Thanks so much, Amy, for sharing with me how you resonate with the emotional truths expressed in my poem.
First, your Indian friends: Both Indian and Chinese immigrants of our generation have experienced the restrictive and controlling aspects of our collectivist cultures. I had an Indian coworker who was subject to an arranged marriage and it turned out to be an abusive one. While I have not had to be forced into an arranged marriage, the expectations of my parents acted like an invisible hand-cuff. Their disapproval of the men I had chosen for myself became the bane of my existence.
Then, your grandmother and mother: What they were subject to as a by-product of the traditional patriarchy society may seemed to be things of the past era, but come to think of it, it was just a couple of decades ago. While many more opportunities are available to women nowadays, we are seeing a significant backlash in the U.S. on women's rights and what our mothers' generation had achieved are under threat today.
Lastly, about your upbringing: It's fascinating for me to read how your parents, while conservative, have allowed and encouraged you to do whatever you wanted to pursue and freely become the person that you are.
I have always dreamt of that freedom. I am not yet able to feel fully free, as I still live in the guilt that's a by-product of my upbringing and my culture, which emphasizes "filial piety" as the No. 1 virtue. I hope I will get to have a taste of true freedom to live my life unapologetically one day.
I think in some ways you're striving to be accepted for what is at the heart of what's considered American Individuality and may be why in cultures with more shared social responsibility it's not present. The reason my parents wouldn't have considered suppressing who I was is because this isn't a liberal or conservative value, it's an American value seen as what makes us so prosperous. The wild idea from the freak who made millions is revered. Rugged individualism is at our core. I could be different because being unique and outspoken and a bit wild is who we are. If you didn't grow up believing in that you don't have the luxury of giving that same freedom to your own children because it's not a core value. These are all hunches on my part and I'd love to hear your opinion.
Amy, this is so interesting to hear. When the "rugged individualism" value is seen as the No. 1 virtue, a tremendous amount of freedom was allowed in your upbringing.
I have thought about the American "rugged individualism" vs. collectivism in much of the rest of the world for quite some time. They seem to be rooted in two extremes in the history of nations/cultures. Those two extremes have become myths and traditions. "The freak making millions" is part of the beloved narrative of "from rags to riches" and the "lone cowboy." It has captivated the American psyche since the continent was colonized, and is also one of the main drawing factors for immigrants to "make it big" here. Unfortunately, when taken to the extreme, the overemphasis of this quality has led to many social ills, which we are witnessing today.
Whereas other parts of the world that have gone through centuries of agrarian economy and feudalism tend to value interdependence because it was central to survival. Due to the fear of what had happened in the past, such as famine and massive sufferings, our ancestors made sure that their survival lessons got codified and passed down in the form of rigid traditions.
In both cases, these codes, or "core values" as you mentioned, govern the behavior of each new generation through parenting, schooling, culture and, in recent times, mass media. They are, in a way, projections of the fears and aspirations that lived inside our ancestors.
Taken to the personal level, I think that both individualism and interdependence exist inside of our soul. They are two ends of a spectrum. For me, because individualism and freedom aren't "built-in" parts of my conditioning, I have to forge new paths to find them. The collectivist virtues and values that I grew up with are so strong and rigid, that they feel like invisible bars of a prison for me. Wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to find a golden mean?
On the other end of the spectrum, I think that the American rugged individualism has perhaps overemphasized self-sufficiency, to such an extent that interdependence may be regarded in a derogatory sense as codependence. That's why when I related with my ex from my default cultural conditioning, I was put down as being codependent and my effort to connect was considered "needy."
S
I agree that rugged individualism is something I also suffer from. I joke about being that woman on the subway hauling a washing machine up the steps or driving my coffin to my funeral. I believe strongly that I must be able to literally do everything myself or I may actually die. I mean that seriously. I prepare for all scenarios because I expect to have to survive everything alone. Think everything from post-apocalyptic world to baking a pie. I am in this alone.
It's also likely a partial result of the male loneliness epidemic, where men were not taught to create networks like women, and where men like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos can amass so much wealth and power and see no reason to support communities.
I lived in Korea for two years and saw how interdependent communal living allowed 5-year-olds to ride the subways alone because everyone was responsible for the children, and how orderly society was because people were expected to behave in certain ways.
While individualism does foster great strength and creativity, it also leaves us marooned on an island if we don't couple it with connecting ourselves with the community. I've spent the last decade working to make sure I have both, but still gravitate toward that rugged individualism. Like you, it's hard to let go of our roots, but maybe unlike you, I don't feel it hinders my life much. In fact, I think it's allowed me to overcome so much because it's forced me to push through my fears and keep surviving. But my exposure to collective societies have made me realize I need my people for my mental health too. So, it's a much better life these days.
I feel you 100% when it comes to surviving alone. The images of a woman dragging a washing machine up the subway stairs and one who drives her coffin to her funeral made me giggle... yea, that would be me too. I have hauled extremely heavy grocery up and down the subway stairs countless times. In fact, coming from such a collectivist culture as mine, I am considered hyper individualistic and independent by my fellow folks, esp women. Perhaps it's because I've lived in Sweden, and was deeply influenced by the "Viking Women Warrior" archetype. I had a female coworker there who was able to build an entire house by herself!
But as I get older, when body started to scream with pain and illness, I realized my mortal limitations. It's then that I regret not having really invested in building my own community. But circumstances had been unfavorable, especially when I constantly dealt with the effects of intergenerational trauma and partner abuse. Now that I finally feel committed to get started, I find a lot of headwinds... Am I too old to start? Well, I'm not ready to give up just yet.
I'm very glad to hear that you have found your happy middle and have your community to support you.
It’s literally never too late to build community. You can build it in a nursing home. I mean honestly you have to build and rebuild it all the time. People come and go so there is no built. Just start with one person and go from there. Do the say yes to everyone. Ask people out on platonic dates. It’s fun.
Wow, this is really encouraging, Amy. Thank you for the ideas and the "how." I literally lost the skills and courage to try again and again after many "failures," but knowing that it's normal to build and rebuild community all the time--that makes all the difference for me. Thank you!
Lily, “why aren’t you in a white coat”—is definitely the stand out phrase in this one! So true, so real, and so vivid. Hope you’re well this week, Lily! 🙌🏼
Hey Thalia, I'm glad to connect with you again and hope you're well! It means a ton to me to hear that you resonate with my sentiments in this poem, particularly that heavy burden of immigrant parents' high expectations. Although my parents did not specifically want me to become a doctor, the example I use in the poem aims to reflect the emotional truth felt by countless Asian Americans.
Lily — today, I stand right beside you.
I know this dance all too well. All the patriarchal, hierarchical, capitalist, misogynist, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, colonialist expectations — all those suffocating layers we were told to strive for, as if they would somehow grant us worth, love, belonging. They never do.
What did I inherit from this so-called life path?
Trauma upon trauma. Ostracism. Bullying. Ridicule. Constant comparison, judgment, categorisation. Labels slapped on me at every turn. And above all: the demand to function — 200%, 220,000 work hours across 35 years. Endless fatigue. Stress. Dissociation. Mental collapse.
I read your words, and I feel the breath of freedom in them — even when the weight of expectation tries to press it back down. It takes courage to say, “This dream was never mine.” And even greater courage to choose your own path, to breathe, to create, to love freely and fully.
Awake is exactly the right word.
And awake we remain.
It means a lot that you stand beside me in deep understanding. I feel you! I know how it is to be ground to the ground by all the systems of oppression that seek to extract our labor and keep us small and suffering. The so-called achievements are dangling glamorous carrots to lure us deeper into the systems. We say: "No more!" And no one can take away the freedom that we are born with, because it resides inside our soul and will remain with us forever. Being awake means feeling pain along with the full spectrum of emotions. But awake we'll remain, so we can be fully human.