My mom has once again been hinting she wants me to join her on a trip to China. She said she wanted to show me the history of China and I don’t think she’s talking about seeing the Terracotta warriors because she told me once upon a time that she saw it while in school and didn’t find it all that attractive.

I don’t know why she wants to go to China when she’s always bashing on the country. You would think if one hates a country so much, one would not be visiting the country. Two weeks ago, I promised her I would accompany her to LA to get my Chinese visa extended but I never promised her I would go to China. In fact, I told her I have no interest of visiting China.

“But many people love to go to China.” She said.

“What other people?”

“Kids from China who immigrated to the US.”

“Were they raised by two Chinese parents?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“I’m not like them. I was raised the American way.” Indeed I was, even though I was with my step-father for 6 short years, he taught many things I bet Chinese parents would never teach their kids like board games and music. I still remember the days when he and I would lounge on the sofa and listen to music through a stereo system that had a maze of wiring behind it.

So, no, I’m not like one of those kids who were raised by two Chinese parents. I was raised in the United States to be an American, not Chinese.