Have you ever told another person “I love you”? Do you ever want to say those words but find it too hard to express?
In “Why We Struggle to Say ‘I Love You,’” Viet Thanh Nguyen writes:
Is it true that Asian-Americans cannot say “I love you?” The striking title of the writer Lac Su’s memoir is “I Love Yous Are for White People,” which explores the emotional devastation wreaked on one Vietnamese family by its refugee experiences. I share some of Lac Su’s background, and it has been a lifelong effort to learn how to say, without awkwardness, “I love you.” I can do this for my son, and it is heartfelt, but it comes with an effort born of the self-consciousness I still feel when I say it to my father or brother.
Thus, when the actress Sandra Oh won a Golden Globe for best actress in a television drama, “Killing Eve,” perhaps the most powerful part of her acceptance speech for many of us who are Asian-Americans was when she thanked her parents. Gazing at them in the audience, she said, in Korean, “I love you.” She was emotional, her parents were proud, and I could not help but project onto them one of the central dramas of Asian immigrant and refugee life: the silent sacrifice of the parents, the difficult gratitude of the children, revolving around the garbled expression of love.
So many of our Asian parents have struggled, suffered and endured in ways that are completely beyond the imaginations of their children born or raised in North American comfort. This struggle and sacrifice was how Asian parents say “I love you” without having to say it. And so many of us children are not expected to say it either, but instead are expected to express love through gratitude, which means obeying our parents and following their wishes for how we should live our lives.
The article continues:
When it came to mass media’s representations of us — film and television, morning radio disc jockey jokes, journalistic punditry — we got only the bad. We were collectively the villains, the servants, the enemies, the mistresses, the houseboys, the invaders.
As a result, so many of us who watched these distorted images and heard the stupid jokes learned to be ashamed of ourselves. We learned to be ashamed of our parents. And the shame compounded the inability to say “I love you,” a phrase that belonged to the wonderful world of white people we saw in the movies and television.
We had to learn better, but the truth is that Asian parents have to learn better, too. You cannot be proud of your artist and storyteller children only when they win Golden Globes. We honor your sacrifice for us, but you have to encourage your children to speak up as well, to claim their voices, to risk mediocrity and failure, to tell their stories and your stories. At the very least, you cannot stand in their way.
Students, read the entire article, then tell us:
— Do you find it hard to say “I love you”? If so, what makes it hard? Do you feel too self-conscious? Too vulnerable? Something else? Would you be willing to tell us about a specific time when you wanted to say those words, but struggled?
— How important to you is it to say or hear the actual three words: I love you? Are there other — equally important — ways to express love?
— What are some cultural factors that affect why some people feel it is hard to verbally express their love? Why was it so important for some Asians-Americans to hear Sandra Oh’s words at the Golden Globes? Do you think Ms. Oh’s public expression of love toward her parents will make it easier for some people to say those three words?
Students 13 and older are invited to comment. All comments are moderated by the Learning Network staff, but please keep in mind that once your comment is accepted, it will be made public.B:
2017买马结果【清】【幽】【红】【光】，【薄】【雾】【漫】【漫】。 【我】【躺】【在】【扶】【桑】【枝】【干】【编】【织】【的】【秋】【千】【上】【晃】【荡】，【感】【受】【底】【下】【的】【淡】【淡】【花】【香】，【顶】【上】【是】【座】【石】【木】【叠】【砌】【的】【奈】【何】【桥】。 【突】【然】【一】【群】【萤】【火】【虫】【从】【远】【处】【飞】【了】【过】【来】，【围】【着】【我】【的】【裙】【边】【翩】【翩】【起】【舞】。 【我】【随】【手】【拈】【了】【几】【只】，【朝】【着】【它】【们】【的】【身】【体】【笑】【了】【笑】，【然】【后】【轻】【手】【一】【松】，【让】【它】【们】【各】【自】【飞】【翔】。 【经】【过】【这】【番】【小】【插】【曲】，【心】【里】【的】【愁】【闷】【仿】【佛】【舒】【展】【开】【了】。
【我】【有】【一】【个】【朋】【友】……【你】【们】【懂】【的】。 【他】【开】【新】【书】【了】，【书】【名】《【膨】【胀】【的】【炼】【丹】【炉】》。 【熟】【悉】【的】【配】【方】，【熟】【悉】【的】【味】【道】，【延】【续】【本】【书】【风】【格】，【会】【更】【加】【规】【范】【行】【车】。 【已】【经】【签】【约】，【合】【同】【还】【没】【寄】，【投】【资】【的】【朋】【友】【抓】【紧】【了】。 【简】【介】【如】【下】： 【防】【火】【防】【盗】【防】【闺】【蜜】，【特】【别】【是】【男】【闺】【蜜】。 【郑】【海】【常】【对】【女】【闺】【蜜】【说】：【两】【条】【腿】【的】【蛤】【蟆】【找】【不】【到】，【三】【条】【腿】【的】【男】【人】【满】【街】【都】
“【我】【我】【救】【不】【了】【他】。” 【墨】【流】【尘】【黯】【然】：“【我】【现】【在】【不】【是】【鬼】，【亦】【不】【是】【神】。” 【乱】【花】【从】【他】【脸】【畔】【扫】【过】，【落】【在】【肩】【头】，【虽】【是】【人】【间】【致】【美】【但】【却】【凄】【然】【萧】【条】。 【凡】【星】【心】【中】【痛】【到】【极】【致】，【双】【眼】【红】【肿】，【唇】【上】【浸】【满】【了】【血】【渍】，【冷】【若】【冰】【霜】【抬】【眼】【静】【静】【凝】【视】【着】【墨】【流】【尘】，【两】【人】【相】【隔】【一】【人】【的】【距】【离】，【却】【仿】【佛】【隔】【着】【天】【南】【海】【北】【殊】【方】【绝】【域】。 【凡】【星】【眼】【角】【的】【泪】
“【那】【个】……【朝】【仓】。” “【嗯】？” “【你】【说】【川】【野】【喜】【欢】【我】？【这】……【真】【的】？” 【朝】【仓】【纱】【雾】【看】【了】【武】【泽】【一】【眼】，【忽】【然】【一】【巴】【掌】【拍】【在】【自】【己】【的】【额】【头】【上】，【低】【下】【头】【去】，【发】【出】【一】【声】【充】【满】【无】【奈】【的】【叹】【息】。 “【唉】，【武】【泽】【前】【辈】，【你】【果】【然】【和】【优】【华】【姐】【姐】【一】【样】，【真】【是】【一】【个】【十】【足】【的】【感】【情】【白】【痴】……” 【武】【泽】【下】【意】【识】【地】【想】【要】【反】【驳】，【但】【转】【念】【一】【想】，【发】【现】【自】【己】【好】【像】2017买马结果【云】【烨】【无】【法】，【只】【得】【接】【过】【刺】【棱】【放】【在】【地】【上】，【再】【回】【过】【头】【来】【时】，【只】【见】【黑】【色】【的】【泥】【淖】【上】【苏】【玫】【的】【眼】【睛】【都】【看】【不】【见】【了】，【只】【留】【下】【黑】【色】【的】【长】**【在】【泥】【面】【上】。 【云】【烨】【大】【惊】，【扑】【过】【去】，【抓】【住】【苏】【玫】【的】【长】【发】【将】【她】【从】【黑】【泥】【里】【拖】【了】【出】【来】。 【苏】【玫】【满】【脸】【是】【泥】，【头】【顶】【刺】【痛】！ 【云】【烨】【把】【她】【上】【半】【身】【拖】【出】【泥】【潭】，【苏】【玫】【立】【即】【把】【一】【只】【手】【伸】【给】【云】【烨】，【然】【后】【低】【低】【地】【说】【了】【一】【句】：“
“【就】【因】【为】【老】【金】【币】【拿】【了】..【啊】【不】，【是】【顺】【手】..【习】【惯】..【忘】【掉】【拿】【了】【那】【个】【家】【伙】【一】【包】【烟】，【这】【个】【混】【蛋】【居】【然】【就】【和】【他】【的】【堂】【兄】【一】【起】【把】【我】【绑】【了】【起】【来】！【你】【说】【他】【们】【有】【多】【小】【气】！”【地】【精】【蹲】【在】【角】【落】【里】，【看】【着】【面】【色】【不】【善】【的】【三】【人】【主】【动】【说】【出】【了】【自】【己】【的】【经】【历】 “【闭】【嘴】！”【三】【人】【一】【同】【吼】【了】【出】【来】 【地】【精】【缩】【了】【缩】【脖】【子】，【闹】【到】【都】【快】【埋】【到】【胯】【骨】【轴】【了】 ‘【活】【跃】【气】【氛】..