Hello, where are you from?
I’ve always struggled to answer the seemingly trivial question of “where are you from?”
Most of the time my gut reaction is “Seattle,” and given the following empirical evidence, I think calling Seattle “home” is probably fair:
- I own a home in North Seattle.
- I attended middle school, high school, college, and grad school in the greater Seattle area.
- I worked full-time in Seattle for 5.5 years.
- I enjoy watching the Seahawks from time to time.
- My English is way better than my Mandarin even though Mandarin is my native language. Most people are surprised when they learn that I was in ESL during 6th grade.
- I enjoy the occasional Top Pot donut with a cup of drip coffee. Personally I think this is about as American as one could get.
The other day during my swim lesson (you read right, don’t judge…), I was joking around with the coach, who is a pretty cool guy in his early twenties. At one point, a middle-aged man in my class came over and told me that I should speak to the coach more politely.
I paused for a moment.
His comment triggered flashbacks to 1998, my first year in the U.S., when I learned that people in the States tend to joke around more. The 11-year-old Patrick had to work to adjust to this new gesture of endearment. Yet, here is the 28-year-old Patrick doing the “American thing” and clashing with the social norms of Taipei. How did this happen? Am I really that American?
I was born in Maryland, USA in August of 1987. About ten weeks later, my mom took me back to Taipei, Taiwan, where I spent the first eleven years of my life. My earliest memories from childhood took place in an apartment on GuangFu S. Road (光復南路) in Taipei, across the street from the Sun Yat-Sen Memorial Hall (國父紀念館). My parents, my brother, and I lived on the top floor of the building in the first picture.
In 1993, we moved to WenZhou Street (溫州街), across the street from LongAn Elementary School (龍安國小) near the National Taiwan University (台大). We lived on the third floor of the building in the second picture.
Back then, it never occurred to me that I was anything other than Taiwanese. Sure, I had an American passport, but to me it meant hardly more than a permission slip to enter the U.S. when we went on family vacations. As a child, I knew that my parents planned for my brother and I to be educated in the States, and I dreamt that one day I would be fluent in English and sound just like that good-looking news anchor on CNN. But I was always going to be a Taiwanese person visiting America. Always.
Over the last few weeks, it’s become increasingly clear to me that Taipei is not “home” for me anymore. I miss navigating the streets without GPS. I miss having friends to grab food & drinks with at a moments notice. I miss knowing where to go for food & drinks. I miss playing on a tennis team at my local tennis club. I miss writing and recording music with my friends. I can’t help but wonder when I became a Seattlite first and a Taipeian second.
So I think I’ve decided: I am from Taiwan, but my home is Seattle, at least for now. I’ve decided that for me, the notion of “home” is dynamic. It can change over time depending on how familiar or comfortable I feel at a given location. On the other hand, “where I am from” is a static fact in my personal history. I will always be from Taiwan.
Agree? Disagree? Let’s have a discussion. :)
Don’t be a stranger,
— Patrick
