Something I would never discuss is “I’m doing well”, “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed”, or “I’m elated by what had been going around work.” These are some phrases and sayings you will never hear in my home. We’re Chinese and it may be a cultural thing, but we never ask each other, “How are you?” daily to the extent that it may seem awkward and unfitting to sociocultural norms here in China. Despite the constant repetition of this phrase in Western movies and vacations, I never questioned our differences in behavior.
It was not until the summer of my junior year that I began adopting and reciprocating with other Westerners similar greetings like “How was your day?”. It seemed weird and superficial at first, a procedural habit asked by people I met in the US. After all, I don’t even know you that well to be able to tell you what I really feel. In fact, the people I tried conversing with did not seem to care much after inquiring about my current well-being. It’s merely a customary and manner-related habit to ask “How are you” when approaching anyone in a daily conversation or a passing by. But since they asked, I really wanted them to know. So I tried telling my feelings instead of what I was taught in school- “I’m fine, thank you,”- and to me, it felt great.
I wondered why this wasn’t a common greeting in my family. I never heard my father talk about how he might be stressed about work, my mother about how she felt as a housewife, or even myself expressing whether or not I felt depressed or overburdened with school and extracurricular activities. So, I decided to ask my parents about it- something that I had never and would never think to do before.
Preparing for this interview felt like I was planning a speech, a weird but also exciting experience as it had never occurred to me that preparation could be needed in order to converse with my parents.
I notified them before the interview of the content and its backstory, finally calling them later on video to reduce its artificiality. The responses and conversations that I had with both my parents seemed to be long overdue, and they continue to resonate in my heart since mental health was something we had never discussed together as a family before.
The reasons that made us feel awkward and uncomfortable around emotional expression were attributed by both of my parents to their familial-cultural norms during their childhoods. My grandparents, like my parents now, never spoke about their emotions- both positive and negative which were kept hidden.
Back in their day, discussing feelings was often seen as a sign of weakness and vulnerability. In comparison to many of my Western friends who feel accepted and free to speak about their stresses and anxieties with their parents, my parents and I seem emotionless. The contrast between the two cultural approaches became increasingly apparent as our conversation continued. My parents explained how, in the traditional Chinese culture, showing emotions or discussing personal struggles was often perceived as a disruption of harmony and social balance. It seems that the practices of my grandparents were deeply ingrained in them, teaching them to view emotional expressions as a private matter not to be shared publicly.
Despite these cultural norms, my parents both recognized the importance of evolving our approach to mental health and emotional expression. I acknowledge the drawbacks of the Western approach as it often gives a sense of superficiality since it was customary to ask during the strict control of Eastern culture; but instead, what I want to propose is a collective approach of the two.
Overall, the interview felt just like any other conversation I would have with them daily as we spoke to one another in a neutral and peaceful tone, but it was more heartfelt as it related to familial matters. This topic seemed to be expected, it’s just that they are always prudently waiting for me to take the first step of asking, believing that taking action might catch me off guard.
Their responses shed light on why my family’s (and possibly other families with similar backgrounds) communication style often felt detached when compared to my friends, and it was during this interview that we all had important realizations.
They acknowledged that having a non-judgmental environment for openly discussing mental health within the family could enhance understanding and support for one another at necessary times. I realized that this was the second time my parents and I had ever actually talked about our feelings without getting into an argument- and that to me, is rare.
The understanding that my parents presented to me felt like a long-closed door of my heart being opened; this feeling of warmth and being understood flooded me so strongly that I almost cried in front of them. Having my parents’ understanding would be greatly beneficial for my open expression of emotions in later conversations, for instance, those regarding my future. Reflecting on insights, I began to appreciate my parents and myself for taking this step out of our comfort zones and helping us navigate the cultural differences in emotional expression.
Ultimately, this dialogue with my parents was not just an exploration of their perspectives but a journey to a deeper understanding of our family dynamics, something that would have never happened if I did not ask. The discussion highlighted the need to bridge cultural gaps and integrate practices that promote emotional openness while respecting our heritage. Something that one could implement here to mediate the balance could be hosting weekly or monthly family meetings where we could check in with each other’s emotional state. If I were to say anything to adolescents around my age, taking this first step, settling down with my [your]parents in a non-judgmental, bias-free conversation would open the family to many more in the future.
Leo Yu is a 17 year old senior at Beijing SMIC Private School who enjoys fashion/streetwear, collecting CDs, and traveling.
Images: Leo Yu
