When I was in third grade, I went over to my friend’s house for the first time, and her mom told me to call her by her first name. As a person who has grown up respecting adults, I found this odd. Eventually, by fifth grade, I was calling her what she wanted me to, but it still felt weird on my tongue. I went around calling parents by their last names, and they all thought that I was a perfectly well-mannered child.
When I got to ninth grade, no longer close friends with this person, I discovered that most of the people in my grade had no idea what the words filial piety meant. We learned it as if it was a vocabulary word in school, something foreign and something that we could forget once we passed the unit on ancient China. But they are so wrong. They are so so wrong.
In China, a great insult is to say that your parents didn’t raise you well. In America, this might be mildly offensive, but we view ourselves as separate from our parents. We didn’t chose them, we have no choice. It doesn’t matter. But, there are stories of Asian children who respect their stepmothers even when they starved and froze. They had no choice of stepmother, but they acknowledge that they are elders and that they must be respected. (As a result, in one of the stories, the boy is recognized by the Emperor and when he dies, the boy becomes the Emperor.)
Maybe it’s just a phase, a normal part of growing up in America, but I would like to change that. Sure, when we get to college, we understand the pains of taking care of ourselves and our children, but why not recognize that as teenagers? Why not appreciate our parents, who have spent long, sleepless nights letting us suck on their breasts, now? Why wait?
I understand that some people will never understand their parent’s sacrifice, and some might not realize it until it’s too late. In that case, do what the Chinese do- mourn for three years, repent, and move on.
Skies and Clouds 