The characters in
all three works we read this week face the same problem of having cultures
which conflict with their surroundings, but throughout all of their struggles
they remain true to who they are. Anzaldua discusses in her chapter “La Conciencia de la mestiza: Towards a
New Consciousness” the struggle of being a mestiza
and not feeling entirely at peace in any single group. She explains that “the mestiza’s dual or multiple personality
is plagued by psychic restlessness” because of her inability to reconcile the
opposing races to which she belongs (Anzaldua 100). However, she embraces her
mixed heritage, and she declares it to be an advantage in her pursuit for
unity. She sees herself as a potential mediator between two peoples, a
transition from ignorance into understanding, because of her identity.
In Gish Jen’s “Who’s
Irish?” too, the narrator is out of place in her surroundings, but she
steadfastly holds to her beliefs and her customs. Her daughter Natalie is
ashamed of her failure to assimilate to life in America, but the narrator
insists on keeping her heritage with her. She criticizes the American (and
specifically Irish) way of living and pines for China. She is bitter and mean
to her Natalie and her husband’s family, but she defends her Chinese values at
all costs. She is distressed by her granddaughter’s lack of modesty because it
goes against Chinese propriety, and she corrects it using methods familiar to
her from her life in China. She cannot understand why the others refuse to
accept this, and laments the American culture they try to force on her: “In
China,” she says, “daughter take care of mother. Here it is the other way
around” (Jen 5). Underlying her stubborn and disagreeable nature is a deeply
rooted sense of disappointment at the reversal of her beliefs. In this
instance, her stubbornness becomes a detriment to her, but she adheres to her
values to the end, protecting her Chinese identity from the obstacles of
America.
Finally, in “Borders,”
Thomas King gives us a Blackfoot woman who wishes to cross the border from
Canada into America without compromising her identity. Every time the border
guards ask her to declare her citizenship as either American or Canadian, she
simply announces that she is Blackfoot. She is unfazed by their frustration,
and when they refuse to let her pass until she declares her citizenship by
their standards, she simply stays on the border between the two countries,
sleeping in her car with her son. She is desperate to preserve her identity,
and to nurture her son’s cultural pride. While they are trapped between
countries, she tells him Blackfoot stories about the stars, “repeating parts as
she went, as if she expect[s him] to remember each one” (King 144). She wants
him to feel the same pride she does, so that he too will defend his background
against those who try to define him on their terms. She refuses to have her
identity stamped out by those for whom it is inconvenient.
From these three
stories, it is clear that identity and heritage are closely intertwined. All
three of these works stress the importance of defending one’s identity. In some
cases, like Jen’s narrator’s, the adherence to tradition can be detrimental,
and in others, like Anzua’s and Laetitia’s mother, it can be positive. In any
case, it is always admirable: they stay true to their convictions, even when
the rest of the world opposes them.
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