Prose, Grandpa’s Cha Siu Bao .........................Anya Siu ’25 Photograph, Gabriella.......................................Isabelle Nagy ’22................Inside Back Cover Art, Car Drive ...................................................Francesca Postigo ’22..................Back Cover

Grandpa’s Cha Siu Bao

Anya Siu ’25

I would always choose my Grandpa’s cha siu bao any day over Chick-Fil-A, but of course I didn’t want to be the odd one out. In my upbringing, fish, century eggs, tofu, and other local dishes were the foods I would tend to gravitate towards. My meals would often be leftovers packed into containers and into insulated boxes to be eaten later. When lunch period started, I would sit with my friends and open my lunch box. The comforting smell of scallions, soy sauce, and garlic would permeate the air as I opened my container to see what my mom had packed me. But I would soon notice my friends’ grins slowly disappear, and what once were smiles were now replaced by frowns of animosity. The subtle tilting of the heads and shift in body language hinted to me that the pungent smell of my food had suppressed their appetite. With no words, I would close my container, hiding myself in the corner. Such scents didn’t faze me. To me, I smelled home. Even so, I never blamed them for rejecting my Asian culture. It is natural to reject what is foreign, and this tendency cannot be avoided. I had come to terms with the situation for what it was.

However, I soon learned that the suffering I felt on a daily basis was far more than embarrassment. It sparked the constant internal battle about whether I was to show the external Anya, a girl who accepted whatever was provided and conformed to the social norms of my community, or whether I was to continue sitting in the corner, which displayed my true genuine self. If I chose to close the container, that need of accustoming to society’s norms would be fulfilled. However, at the same time, I would be incorrectly labeling and identifying myself. Most of the time, My desire and want to fit in would overpower my hunger for my family’s food. My embarrassment for my culture and food to be accepted by others would force me to compromise myself. But every now and then, I would maintain my ground having known that I’d chosen self-satisfaction above friendship and

continued next page

belongingness. And while I never fully overcame my fears, I also never completely avoided it too.

Accepting who I am is hard still to this day. It might take a month, a year, or even a decade to fully accept myself. And the odd thing is that I actually loved Chinese food. Like any other kid, I just wanted to fit in. Failures like these have allowed me to discover that what stopped me from preventing my true self was really just my own fear I had put on myself. I know that I still have a long way to go, but I am proud of my achievement and the little steps I have taken to fully accept myself just how I am. Maybe one day when I am introduced to an alien cuisine, I will be able to understand them much more easily than I was able to accept myself.

Gabriella , Isabelle Nagy ’22, film