Half and Half

All three stories from Half and Half are autobiographical, about the authors definitions of themselves based on familial connections. Although the authors had completely different ethnicities, childhoods, and experiences as adults, we see a common theme among the readings: searching for an identity within your family. I liked how despite the vast differences among the authors, the commonality is in being multiethnic, an identity that we have been exploring throughout the semester. Much of the shared experience of multiracial individuals is of a quest for belonging, particularly within one’s own family.

Lisa See’s story “The Funeral Banquet” revolved around the preparations for her grandmother’s funeral. What was particularly interesting about this story was that Stella See was a white woman whose identity was wrapped up in her Chinese American family. While making the funeral arrangements, Lisa and her family negotiate how “traditionally Chinese” it should be, and Lisa asserts that to honor her grandmother it should be a Chinese funeral. Lisa and her father argue about the degree of tradition which should be present for the ceremony. Despite Stella’s “given” race, the author credits her grandmother for teaching her Chinese customs. “She had become Chinese not through her heritage or her blood but through her being” (127). Ultimately See’s story isn’t one of confusion or turmoil but of acceptance and love. Having grown up with exposure to more than one culture, she views her mixed family as something to cherish. This reading is a commemorative piece to her grandmother, who she thanks for giving her the strength to know “what people are whether they look the part or not” (138).

Philippe Wamba’s “A Middle Passage” details his experiences not as an African American, but as both African and American. The son of a black mother from Chicago and a father from Zaire, Wamba spent his childhood in more than one continent, a part of more than one culture. “It can be difficult to define yourself when those around you are so eager to do it for you” (152). He chronicles his acquaintances’ interpretations of him; Americans seeing him as African and Africans seeing him as American. Although he felt connected with friends and relatives based on “blackness” he was aware of distinct differences stemming from his dual heritage. Both sides of his family were loving and inclusive, but there were immense cultural variations which became evident to him even in his childhood. Wamba’s message seemed to be that identity isn’t about where you come from, but who you are. Rather than examining his heritage using a family tree, Wamba suggests “a tumbleweed is an even more fitting analogy, since it helps to capture the sense of movement, migration, and mixing that has characterized and shaped my life” (169). In his adulthood he stops looking for definition from his family, but decides to create his own.

Nina Mehta’s “From Here to Poland” is about her multiraciality, but more specifically, her relationship with her grandmother. Although she has spent part of her childhood in India, Mehta’s primary language is English. In order to communicate with her grandmother (who doesn’t speak English) Mehta relies on her relatives to act as interpreters. Despite the language barrier, she feels a closeness with her grandmother. I would consider speaking different languages to be a significant obstacle in developing a personal relationship, but that appears to be not necessarily true. Mehta appreciates the “physical”relationship she has with her paternal grandmother, regardless of the fact that it is non-verbal. She finds comfort in the familiarity of her grandmother’s presence. “My grandmother has always been an unremarkably ordinary part of the surroundings” (218). The author spends much of the story discussing her powerful desire to know more about her grandmother, and therefore her own familial history. Unlike Wamba, Mehta feels her identity is deeply entwined with her ancestors. Part of this philosophy may stem from her grandmothers religious beliefs of Karma and reincarnation. She conducts a series of interviews with her grandmother, which all require a relative to act as translator. Despite these attempts at intimacy, ultimately Mehta is entirely comfortable with the multiple languages in her family. “Sometimes more than being alone I like to sit in a room with familiar people who are speaking a language I don’t know, and be ignored” (239).

I felt able to relate to all these stories in one way or another. I think it is pretty typical for people to take interest in their ancestry. I know that within my family, we’ve gone to great lengths to preserve a few particular traditions. I am only one/sixteenth Sweedish yet I know more about the Sweedish part of my family than any else. In order to learn her grandmother’s recipe for cardamom bread, my grandmother weighed the contents of her grandma’s hands (my great great grandmother didn’t use measuring utencils). My mother has tried to keep an extensive written record of our family’s history, and during my grandmother’s decline into Alzheimers, the two of us interviewed her about her childhood and recollections of her parents. So I understand the search for connection with people who seem so far away (spatially or generationally). And while family is an important body through which we learn much about the world, I appreciate Wamba’s belief that you must define yourself.