In another instance of leaving your homeland, Cathy Song’s Lost Sister paints a beautiful portrait of society’s expectations and the inner anguish to follow them or lead a new way. Setting the scene in China, that society’s expectation extends to the peasants – says that everyone upholds this tradition. The naming of your first daughter is always Jade. In and of itself, this is not a bad thing, however the stipulations attached make for a lifetime of service to your family. This obligation is not easily shed. With language like, “And the daughters were grateful: they never left home.” This signals that this was a cultural identity. These girls now took the burden of this name.
When one girl gave this name up, she came to America. She came to have the experience she thought she would be denied at home. She set to know this new land. But, as often seen, the new experience can prove daunting. The author says, “But in another wilderness, the possibilities, the loneliness, can strangulate like jungle vines.” This passage almost depicts the old adage, “the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.” The Jade girl here, finds that in this new land she cannot cope with “dough-faced landlords…making claims you don’t understand.” In the end, she finds that she needs China for her to identify with the world. She realizes that she cannot make a contribution, because she has long since abandoned her role, as Jade.
Sometimes, we want so badly to shed the coat of our culture. However, by doing so, we fear that we may forever be changed – perhaps in a way we don’t want to be. So, for the sake of doing what we have always done, we continue. This is evident in both It’s Something Our Family Has Always Done, by Wing Tek Lum and in My Grandmother’s Hands, by Marie Mazziotti. Both stories highlight generational lines that the characters identify with. In …Our Family…, Lum takes a look at his practice of visiting graves before he and his wife leave for a trip. He says “On every trip away…we go to the graves, all seven of them.” Though the trip is not a bad one, he questions himself each time he does it. They have the trip down to a routine, always doing what they have always done.
If by doing this deed – they connect themselves to the past. They ask for protection from their ancestors. Family here is highlighted as the main connection between the past and the present. They nonetheless go and visit, if for no other reason than to simply have done it. At the conclusion of the visit, they again question if it really helps them on their trip. But because of his family’s ties, he visits.
We see in My Grandmother’s Hands the inability to connect with one’s past and pass it on for the future. As Mazziotti phrases, “the thin thread of memory,” is something that is precious and fragile. This holds everything that is the family. And we find that because Mazziotti’s mother “left her family behind…The ribbon between herself and the past ended with her…” Feeble attempts to pass on the heritage prove unsuccessful. Mazziotti says that her own children couldn’t even know their past and could not carry it on. But because our heritage is often more resilient than we think, we can most often find our way back home. We are left with reminders that often bring us full circle and allow us to find what we are looking for. “…the love she taught us to weave a thread of woven silk to lead us home.” We can always find our way back.
