The Fundamentals for Expression

Imagine that a best friend has a contradiction to your friendship on his/her sleeve. That a favorite shirt is suddenly revealed to have an obscenity worked into the design. That your tattoo artist secretly slipped in a joke onto your lower back. The alphabet that I use most frequently is suddenly mocking me. I might have identified myself by this alphabet eariler by using it so extensively but now this new identity it imposes on me is disturbing. The English alphabet is something all that read this should know. It goes like this: a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z The mockery is in the beginning. A. B. C. Also known as "American-Born Chinese." All around me, people I think that are just like me -- Taiwanese-Americans -- are suddenly describing themselves with this phrase. A street vendor gives a friend a funny look and asks in accented English: "A-B-C?" and she nods. I stand by, unsure of how to respond. The irony is amazing. Despite being Taiwanese-born, the only language I am fluent in is English. I've never been to England and off the top of my head I can't even say "I was born in Taiwan but grew up in America" in Mandarin. (Even more bizarrely I think I can only communicate that message in English and Spanish.) When locals apply the acronym to me, I pull a face that might be able to pass for acquiescence or might just look grotesque. To me, calling me A.B.C. is nearly an insult -- it is almost completely erroneous. The only word that accurately applies is "born." I was born and neither "American" or "Chinese" speaks truth about me. Because I know single labels won't properly define me, I'll let the alphabet mockery slip by. With or without the phrase, strangers will continue to be strangers to me. The only thing they will know is that the English alphabet starts with a, b, c... Jessica spent most of July in Taiwan, traveling, exploring, shopping, eating, and meeting new friends. This trip was her first introduction to the phrase "ABC."