Archive for October, 2011

That Forgotten Language Barrier

That Forgotten Language Barrier

niu rou mian1 That Forgotten Language Barrier

Homemade niu rou mian (牛肉麵)

Very rarely do I walk into a Cantonese speaking establishment by myself, let alone with friends. When I do enter, I am always suddenly overcome with a more awkward gait and mannerisms, unsure what to say or how to interact with the store owners or waiters. Physically, I look the part – ethnically, I am Chinese, but culturally, I’m quite far from it.

I grew up speaking only English in my home. The only Cantonese I ever learned were words necessary for ordering food, etiquette, and, of course, mah-jong (no, not the solitaire kind, the real way). My aural comprehension became decent – I could follow along in most conversations, but never saying anything in response, merely nodding and smiling. Whenever I did go to Cantonese-speaking places, I was with my mom, who did all the talking; in which case, I was never left to feel uncomfortable or out of place. There were the few times in which I would head to the Chinese mall by myself, but it itself was filled with so many native English speakers that it seemingly didn’t matter.

Living in France never presented the language barrier or awkwardness that I felt here in New York. Perhaps it was because they were always speaking a dialect that I had not been raised speaking (Mandarin). Or perhaps it was because I was too focused on integrating into the larger community on-hand – the French sphere – that I was therefore too preoccupied and unable to assess the feeling of being a linguistic pariah in France. In any case, I never felt as though I were on the cusp of impinging on a community or niche as an impostor (i.e. merely looking the part).

But I’m not in Paris anymore – I’m now in New York where the Cantonese population is much larger, especially when you head on down to lower Manhattan; the hard-consonant and sharp and poignant chatter is impossible to miss. My ears can easily pick up on the quips of bargains for fruits from the outdoor vendors and pick up on the gossip shared between elderly women running errands. But the minute that I enter through a door frame and into a store, I almost seem to find myself tongue-tied and paralyzed language-wise.

Do I communicate in what is perceived as this niche’s “outsider” language (English), or do I try to integrate into this community by speaking in my [fragmented] Cantonese? By no means am I trying to be racist, but there doesn’t seem to be an easier way to convey this internal conflict, which articulates the notions of community and language as a marker/identifier. There are the instances in which I am able to step foot into the community, only to find myself pulling my body back, as I realize that I cannot go much further; I order something and the waitress poses another question – one that I am unable to properly respond to – and the experience of integration is immediately over. In either case, I am the “other.”

October 14, 2011
Redefinition Through Writing

Redefinition Through Writing

toronto Redefinition Through Writing

View of Toronto from a rooftop

Last week, TedxToronto held their annual conference, with the theme being “redefinition.” I thought it would only be appropriate to contribute, in my own way, despite being remote, my thoughts and ideas on redefinition. My viewpoint on redefinition, though, is not one based on community, but rather on the personal level. And I suppose that greatly bases itself on the experiences that I’ve had, which in turn have shaped my understanding of the word.

In discussing redefinition of the self, I point to the concepts of trauma and recovery. Granted, trauma is a very intimate subject and is one that has no clear lines in determining what is and what is not considered to be painful or marking. It goes to say that trauma is one’s own, and cannot be measured or judged by another. Overcoming this pain is difficult; and I contend that through expressing ourselves, and writing down our experiences that we can be permitted to and aided in moving on.

I propose the idea of writing since it is the one point in which we confront our traumas with great intimacy – revisiting them, re-purposing the experience into our own words, and thus, in a sense, reclaiming what was lost. To contemplate each word that we pen (or type in this case) is an activity that requires great thought and care, since trauma is so personal to us – we want to communicate what we know to be the “truth.” Evoking empathy or feelings isn’t the goal; for if it were, we would write compelling and more flowery text, as opposed to confronting a memory that we have sought to shelve and repress.

It is in this process of reclaiming, though, that we begin to own our memory, and not be owned by it.

At the end of this cathartic experience, we come out different. We are not necessarily changed, but we are more relieved. The memory that we have sought to hide from is now properly archived, and no longer strongly extricated from our mind and living obsessively in our daily conscious.

Whether or not we choose to share the experience is another point. We want to be altruistic and say that we confront our trauma publicly to help others – but is that really the case? For the most part, I would say so. But in some aspects, it is part of the redefining experience; being consciously aware that what you say becomes a part of the archive for others puts an onus on us to be more truthful to not only our readers, but also to ourselves. Instead of convincing ourselves of certain truths, we are forced to tell it as it had happened so as not to lead others astray (which of course comes back to the altruistic argument).

With that said, it comes as no surprise that we see so many texts on traumatic experiences published – it is one way for the author to overcome what has happened in a “truthful” manner.

To sum, redefinition, at least for me, is the reclaiming of one’s traumas through writing, which produces a candid (and sometimes slow) revisit in which we unveil the lies that we have told ourselves and instead, own not only the truth but our memory.

October 3, 2011
Appreciation of the Written Word (for Brands)

Appreciation of the Written Word (for Brands)

equinox postcard Appreciation of the Written Word (for Brands)

Postcard from Equinox accompanied by two 3 day passes for friends (not pictured)

With everything going digital, it seems to me that the written word, or even printed materials, rather, becomes more coveted than ever before. Having that tangible object elicits some kind of sentiment with which we are not necessarily able to convey with an email or a tweet. I bring this up since over the last two to three months, I received at least two handwritten notes that, while they may not be much, permit me to appreciate the brand so much more.

The first instance, depicted above, is a postcard mailed to me by one of the sales representatives at Equinox’s Park Ave location. The verbiage isn’t so important, as it is the stock writing that comes with the welcome later, which I received the same day as this one, but it is the pen-to-paper action that is key in sealing some sort of positive experience with a brand. Of course, there adds the personal touch, which one can see with brand representatives emailing us, whether it be John Sexton for NYU (for instance) or the gym manager.

whole foods gift cards address Appreciation of the Written Word (for Brands)

Message from the team at Whole Foods NYC (address removed)

The second instance, more recent is not only impressive because of the move to reward engaged customers, but also the written conception of the brand’s voice. For those that don’t know, I tend to seek refuge at Whole Foods (mostly the Union Square location), especially between and after my shows at NYFW. In tweeting these messages and engaging with the @wholefoodsnyc account, I was rewarded with a “present,” which were two $10 gift cards and a personalized note from the team. Albeit, it takes merely seconds to scribble a message and to usher it to the post, but that authenticity that is sometimes lost in digital media is regained, and thus permitting me to “view” Whole Foods as an amicable brand. That and it gets you talking about the brand – while waiting for my gift to arrive in the post, I can’t count how many people I’ve told about my positive experience with the Whole Foods team.

So what has become of the written word? In addition to adding a “voice” or personality to a brand’s social networking accounts, letters and postcards have in effect become a means of communicating authenticity to an individual, and creating and reinforcing a bond between customer and brand.

October 1, 2011