Too American, Not Asian Enough. I am a third-generation…
By: Jasmine L.
Tags: Khmer, Asian American, Cambodian American, Cambodian, Asian

Cambodian and American Flag. Photo from voacambodia.com

I am a third-generation Cambodian-American.

My grandparents survived the Khmer Rouge genocide, soon emigrating to the United States, with the help of a generous family from Pennsylvania, who sponsored them, and their children. My mother and aunt were born in Thailand; they were toddlers when they came to the United States. My uncle was the first, in our family, to be born in the United States.

Leaving Pennsylvania, my family moved to California, seeking a community of other Cambodians, who were also trying to start their new lives in the United States.

With this being said, my grandparents have worked immensely hard, trying to make ends meet, to provide a good life for their family, here in the United States. They have sacrificed so much to make a new life for themselves and their children & grandchildren, in a new country. I will always, and continue to, admire their courage and tenacity, in doing so.

My mother and her siblings, grew up in the United States, and are very much well-versed in American culture. My grandparents encouraged them to focus on learning English, as well as becoming accustomed to American mannerisms. Because of this, my mother is a much more fluent English-speaker, compared to Khmer.

Growing up, I was always around my grandparents and mother; they helped in raising me and providing a good life for me. When I was a toddler, I was surrounded by many Khmer-speaking relatives, so my comprehension of both English and Khmer was evident. However, when I started attending public grade school, my understanding of Khmer began to diminish greatly.

My mother rarely spoke in Khmer to me, as a child and teenager, therefore I am, and have grown to be, a predominantly English-speaker. As much as my grandmother tends to speak to me in varied amounts of Khmer, I have a difficult time trying to grasp what she is saying to me.

I occasionally attended Khmer class, at the public library, when I was 7-years old, but I clearly did not comprehend much. I vaguely remember practicing writing Khmer letters, but seeing as that I could barely write words in English neatly, I eventually stopped going.

When I attended grade school, particularly elementary school, many of my peers were not minorities, let alone had any clue of where Asia was on a map. I received microaggressions, with kids making remarks, aiming at my darker skin tone. Many adults, even those who are Cambodian, would make it a point to always say that I did not look Cambodian, but instead I looked Mexican or Filipino. This led me to be embarrassed of my culture, as a child, and not wanting to share certain things about myself, that had any relation to my ethnicity.

However, middle school was different. I went to a very racially-diverse public school, and to my surprise, there were many Cambodian students there. I was friends with a number of them, which helped me learn to embrace my culture more. The downside was that I still felt out of place with them, with one of the reasons being that I felt they were “more Asian” than me. Many of them were bilingual English and Khmer-speakers, whereas I predominantly spoke English, at school and at home.

When I was 13-years old, I felt a desire to become more connected to my culture; I learned how to cook various Khmer dishes with my grandmother and wanted to add more vocabulary to my (practically nonexistent) knowledge of Khmer. My attempts at speaking Khmer to various family members and friends often resulted in getting teased and made fun of, leading to experiencing constant feelings of embarrassment.

When I started high school, I eventually stopped trying to learn or speak Khmer, and nobody in my family seemed to expect me to. Having always excelled in my English classes, along with having to learn Spanish, as part of my high school curriculum, improving my Khmer comprehension was left on the back burner.

I also constantly watched TV shows, that solely starred and featured people who are white. This was partially because I didn’t know of any other series with much of a diverse cast, let alone an Asian cast. I wanted to look like them so much, that I would straighten my naturally-wavy hair, on a regular basis. I had only ever grown up around people who followed and adhered to Eurocentric beauty standards, which influenced me to do the same. However, I soon realized that it was pointless; I would never look like them, and instead I am only concealing who I really am, both physically and mentally.

The CW Network show, Gossip Girl. Photo from Entertainment Weekly.

Disney Channel show, Hannah Montana. Photo from IMDB.

I began to feel like I was too American, and not Cambodian enough. I had a difficult time trying to be comfortable with myself, since I have been immersed in American culture my entire life, yet I do not look like many other Cambodian people that I know. Many self-esteem issues rooted from this; it is still a struggle I try to grow from, everyday.

Unfortunately, living in America, as a minority, will always have downsides, but it’s not something that one has to tolerate or stay silent about.

Despite my lacking comprehension of the Khmer language, I learned a lot about my culture and its history, throughout my childhood and teenage years. From my family’s stories, my childhood adoration of Khmer karaoke, and various movies about Cambodia that I have watched, I have always appreciated my culture. Now, I share that appreciation and learn to correct people when they may say something about my culture that is incorrect. I am no longer embarrassed about who I am, as my culture is a part of my identity, and I am proud of it.