It was a good Friday night out watching Harold and Kumar 2, eating out in Koreatown and eventually going out for a night of karaoke again.
It has been said that things happen for a certain reason. Maybe that’s true or maybe not. Then again, what are the odds I would actually meet someone from my distant past in a place like New York City? A place with a population of over 20 million with hundreds of thousands if not millions of people traveling in and out of the city on an almost hourly basis.
The odds are incredibly low given that no other person besides me would have known the exact places, events, people and even streets from my so-called hometown. It’s a so-called hometown because I don’t identify with it in any way, shape or form even though I lived there for several years. If anyone asked in the past, I simply tell them my hometown is around Ontario and go out of my way to distance myself from French Canada.
It was interesting because the things that happened there really affected how I saw myself for several years. This is also one of the reasons why I am so interested in Asian-American issues and their goal to destroy all stereotypes associated with the White-imposed “Model Minority” view of Asians.
Whenever, I talk about my real background, people either think I need more “imagination”, claim I lifted my account from a disadvantaged minority (Black or Hispanic) or say I completely fabricated it. Then my so-called fellow “Model Minorities” often dismiss me as a reject because I completely deviated from their cookie-cutter Asian-American background.
I really don’t like talking about that aspect of my life. It’s unpleasant and really can bring the worst out of me. Yet, it is a crude reminder on why I am still here and moving along. It also a reason why I had to purge myself of my knowledge of the French language, my Catholic upbringing from the missionaries who regularly visited the Quebecois schools (I gradually lost faith in God from my time in America), and why I went out of my way to changing myself.
I think the person I met may have been in my kindergarten class back in the day if I think she is who I think she is. I know the story was a bit outrageous at first and there was a need to find my grade school pictures on facebook, which was on record. She found me and a flood of emotions and memories started coming again. People I knew back then seemed to have turned out fine based on their present-day pictures on facebook.
The nice girl I knew still looked the same and a bit older. The asshole I knew from the past still looked like an asshole and a wannabe Eurotrash while the shy girl looked friendlier. The red-haired girl also turned out ok and I think she was the only Anglophone in that class I actually talked to. This may explain why certain names and personalities seemed to resonate when I was in America. It must be from some residual memories that still lingered from all these years.
Facebook can be interesting and some must be surprised that I was tagged on the old pictures and the girl who posted them must be wondering who the hell I am since I never went by my current name in the past. I essentially disappeared after first grade and no one from that school would have heard from me ever since. It wasn’t so much the discrimination though that actually worsened after I transferred from the Canadian school to the Quebecois school, but the fact I was living in a very broken home.
This was the reason why I was such a jerk to the girls. Chucking snowballs, pranks and assorted antics on the girls and being picked on by most of the White kids at that time. The then-father didn’t care since he just dismissed me as the person who started the fights and told the administration not to bother if anything happened to me. Failed nearly every exam and rarely got any real work done, which meant I learned nothing at that time.
Well, they can be assured that I am still living and breathing and still sane despite living in America for nearly a decade. They should know I did not drop out of high school, get hooked on drugs or alcohol and did not get some girl pregnant, or involved in organized crime (or worse). They can know that I did graduate from both high school and college with scholarships, lived in a stable home for the most part, and better off than before. Most of all, I am more content with my life that I was in years.
I honestly believe the school administration failed to intervene since they just dismissed the problem as just a difference in culture or they just didn’t have the means to do it at the time. The fact that nearly every organized institution from the public or the family unit has failed me in my life is one reason why I am so distrustful of institutions and more individualistic than others.
It was suggested that I talk about these things on a blog or something along those lines. There was a time when I did this during my college days, and the things I wrote about were used against me by my then-friends, people professing to be pious Christians and immature girls. People used it to put me down or used the information to harm me for their own benefit.
So I will not go in depth on myself and I rather talk in person with people I trust or like for now. I think this will be enough for tonight and I look forward to a pleasant and warm Sunday.