Symbols and You

Christine Phan

Mr. McElveen

Block 4

15 August 2013

Symbols and You

            The result of who I am today comes with the countless lessons and experiences I have tackled with living through the first fifteen years of my life. Before this assignment, I never once contemplated on how fragments of my life contain such significant items in them that represent my complete character. Although my life is considerably made up more than just the items in it, just as Aristotle said, “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts,” these substances represent many overpowering aspects of my life, which have truly shaped me into the person that I am.

            Hanging on the wall of the living room is the first significant symbol of my life: my very own non la. This typical cone shaped hat is commonly known for being worn by Asians that were designed to shield the head from sunlight and rain from drenching the hair. My mother and father, both having been raised in South Vietnam, were remarkably impacted by the bitter conditions of working in the fields and sacrificing their ability to receive an education in order to provide money, though a small amount, for their families. Due to my mother being the oldest child in her family, and my father being the oldest male in his family, they dedicated their entire lives to support their huge families by farming in the rice paddies and selling their farm-grown crops in the city markets, even though they lived far in the rural districts. Although my parents lacked any luxuries in the beginning, they were able to successfully find a route to success in America and support their families with what they have gained through persistence and hard work. There are two reasons why the non-la symbolizes so much to me. I am able to look at it and remember how fortunate I am to be able to acquire my education without any impediments. Not only that, I possess so much more given to me in my life than both of my parents ever had when they were my age. They inspire me to take advantage of what I have now and make the best out of my life, because they did not have the same opportunity to do so.

The other reason why the non-la means so much to me is that it conveys such a substantial cultural aspect of my life. Being an American-born Vietnamese, it is fascinating to think about how I experience components of two prominently different cultures every day. Although I am honored to be able to consider myself an American, preserving my culture means much more to me. My parents raised me emphasizing strongly on keeping the Vietnamese culture alive in order that my children and the future Vietnamese generations to come will not abandon their original identities, which would annihilate the Vietnamese culture forever. However, it has become apparent to me that the traditions and ways of my heritage are slowly vanishing, as western influences have reshaped the original Vietnamese customs. The non-la represents much more to be than just a hat, it is a piece of my heritage that I can hold onto and pass onto my children to counteract with the disappearing of the Vietnamese culture in the years to come.

My next symbol is the color periwinkle. The color is oftentimes seen among many flowers, having a mix of a pastel blue with a tint of lavender. This color is also a color of awareness ribbons for eating disorders. Not very many people know of this, but I've struggled with my weight from the moment I was born up until this summer. It's undeniable that Asians naturally have a small frame and are exceptionally tiny. Because I was born underweight, my parents were consistently force-feeding me, in hopes that I would not be underweight, as I got older, as well. Having been disciplined that I was too skinny, I finally got to the point where I was at a “normal weight,” the doctors had explained. However, my relatives thought different. They were always pinching my arms and notifying me how big my wrists were. Compared to my school friends, I was considerably smaller and much more scrawny. I however did not come to this realization until very much later. My parents continuously mentioned how much larger I was than my 24 year-old aunt who weighed 85 pounds, while I was only eleven years old, weighing at 91 pounds. I was considered truly overweight from their perspectives. The capacity of how much agony I went through for several years is inexplicably difficult to describe.

I was not able to escape the voices in my brain evoking me to be thinner. I desperately wanted to be able to feel acceptance within my family. I started to exercise everyday. I developed a strict regime of running for hours everyday. I started to feel impeccably guilty if I went a day without exercising. I was able to lose a couple of pounds, but I then reached a point where I was not able to lose any more weight. I started to feel guilty about eating. I did have the willpower to resist any and all junk food, but I realized that I would not need to worry about the nutritional content if I threw everything up before I was able to digest it. For a few months, I suffered from bulimia. This was a very effective method; I lost more weight and was able to keep it hidden from my peers and my family. Each time after I threw up, I felt tears streaming down my face and kept telling myself that I've got to be skinny for my family. They expected me to make all A's and be pretty. And to them, pretty meant skinny. That was all I was missing. I just needed to be skinny. I became obsessed with it and transformed into a monster. I let that monster take over every single thought in my head and every action I executed.

My family saw that I had been rapidly losing weight, but they figured it was from me over-exercising. They said they saw definite toning in my arms and legs and encouraged me to keep going at it. Little did they know, my bulimia was getting worse and worse. I then reached a horrifying period where I started to throw up blood. My esophagus remained sore for a few weeks, and I was no longer able to compel a particle of food no matter how many times I tried. It caused me to wince anytime I started to eat due to my throat being so irritated from my fingers digging against it for so long. I had no choice but to stop, being at 83 pounds. I truly feel remorse over allowing myself to get to such a ghastly stage. Periwinkle is a color that reminds me of the consequences of damaging not only my body, but also my conscience. It allows me to remember that no extent of harming myself is worthy of a number on a scale. It also reminds me to continue being a strong person; I am proud of myself for learning how to embrace myself even if other people constantly are pointing out my flaws.

My final symbol is a cherry blossom, thousands of which are seen repeatedly on trees in many Japanese sceneries and artworks. The delicate cherry blossom flower, or sakura, is Japan’s national flower. Although there are several different varieties of the flower, the blooming phase of the flower is relatively short; a full bloom is typically reached in less than one week after the opening of the first blossoms of the flower, and the blossoms shall be falling from the cherry blossom trees and swept away by the wind. The Japanese traditionally celebrate the blooming season with cherry blossom viewing parties underneath these trees. It symbolizes the essence of the human life, as the petals fall, that all aspects of life are only temporary. Every situation, favorable or unfavorable, is bound to pass. Therefore, it is not proper to be overly attached or miserable over a particular outcome, because everything passes in an instant. The cherry blossom exemplifies how I view every incident of my life. It is my reminder to be mindful of everything that arises in my life, and that everything undoubtedly happens for a reason. With my father’s cancer, the recent deaths of my grandmother and my uncle, both my mother and I persevering and hoping for the best, the significance of the cherry blossom motivates me to press on among troubling times.

Every one of these symbols genuinely provides comfort, and critically inspires me to move forward with my life no matter what my situation may be. I certainly believe that my entire life is in God’s hands, that I am who I currently am today because of Him, and that there is a meaning behind everything that manifests in my life. Not only do these symbols in my life remind me that I have been extraordinarily strong in the past, and that I am able to carry out that strength again, but also, it explains who I am as a person and outlines what I have gone through in my life so far.