What Game Do You Play?

I read a cross-cultural study one time that looked at the differences between Western and Eastern cultures and how they dealt with, not necessarily conflict, but how they handled a challenge they were presented with. The two groups were presented with a selection of two types of games (don’t recall what the games actually were). If a Westerner was not good at a particular game and asked if they wanted to participate in the same game the next time around, they would often decline and want to try their hand at the other game. However, if the same situation was true from the Easterner, they would in fact play the same game (that they were not so good at) time and time again.

This scenario speaks volumes to me. It shows me that Westerners are more inclined to be the best at something. If they’re not, they don’t want to face the challenge. They will move on until they find something they are good at with little to no effort, whereas the Easterners continually practice at something that they may only have a mediocre skill in at first.

This isn’t black and white stating all Westerners and Easterners are this particular way and I am in no way stating that one culture is better than the other. I just find it interesting that the majority of the culture I currently live in now want to “find something they are good at with little to no effort”. I’ve fallen into this many a time.

When the tides of opposition start lapping upon me, I either go into ostrich mode or run away altogether.

Up until recently, the thing I was most proud of was when I played my upper division my sophomore year at Lee. I never really practiced like I should have. I’m not sure if it was laziness on my part, or I would much rather be hanging out with friends than in the practice rooms tirelessly blowing through reeds, with a sore bottom lip as I practiced my clarinet. Whatever it was, I actually put in the effort for my upper division. I practiced like I had never practiced before. I cried. I was tired. I felt like I was never good enough. I was a music major and I STILL squeaked from time to time!!! But in the end – I never felt so accomplished….until recently.

I could have easily given up on my degree when I had to drop out of school the first time around. I could have said, you know what – I’m a working adult now and I’ll just work my way up in the company, but education has been instilled in me since the time I was a wee thing (probably doesn’t help that I’m the daughter of educators). There were many times I was miserable going to and from school because I hadn’t dealt with the hardships that I encountered in TN. Plus I was still dealing with PMDD, being weaned off medication, developing my new relationship with my husband, starting a home, working full time. It was not easy. But I kept at it.

There is something to be said about keeping at something - pushing forward when it seems all the odds are against you – continually striving towards a goal when others don’t support you. There will always be people out there that are better off OR worse off than us. There will always be people out there that are better OR worse at something than we are. We can only do what we are capable of, but I want to be more like my Eastern cousins who continually practice at something that they are not good at; who want to be better despite the odds against them.

Are you here to play the game even if you’re not good at it? Do you try again or do you turn to find something else that you can be good at with little effort?

Dissatisfaction is Ensuing

“It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.“ ~ Audre Lorde


Everything starts to mesh together. I can’t tell what is making me feel like what. If didn’t give a crap as to “why” so much, it wouldn’t really matter.

But here I am; dissatisfaction is ensuing. It’s not as hard to explain to others why this feeling exists. It is difficult, however, to accept the reality that they don’t really and truly get it. How do I know? I can see it in their eyes. I can see it in their body language. I can see it in their actual language. It’s written all over them.

I’ve been back in the US now for almost nine years. It’s been about seven that my strings have been cut from going back “home”; going back overseas on a regular basis.
And I’m becoming someone that I never thought I would be come. It’s not bitterness. No. I accept that I’m bitter and I’ll openly admit that to anyone. The truth is, I’m becoming judgmental and intolerant of the people around me. I NEVER thought I would see the day when I would become so angry and full of hatred towards those that don’t know any better.

I always tried to be understanding of people’s backgrounds. I always tried to be understanding of differences. I still accept a large majority of differences in diverse people, but I’m losing that ability to be flexible with people that look like me. People who are American like me. Perhaps I’m deflecting the actions others have shown. Or perhaps I’m so sick and tired of not being understood that now the pendulum has swung so far the other direction.

In relationships, it’s said that you cannot change another person. You only have control over you – your thoughts – your actions. So why must I constantly struggle with not feeling accepted amongst my own people. I say I’m full of anger and hatred for people that don’t “know better,” but I feel that people SHOULD know better!
Our world is becoming more globalized every single day. We can only hide our faces from the reality of this for so long. We live on one planet. We share the same space. We share the same air. No, we don’t all share the same language or same foods. No, we don’t have the same customs or traditions. But we are all human. We share the commonalities of what humans feel. We love. We hurt. We need. We know joy. We know sorrow. We know family. There are some things that make us similar! As the quote states below,though, we must learn to respect each others differences.


“In the end we are all separate: our stories, no matter how similar, come to a fork and diverge. We are drawn to each other because of our similarities, but it is our differences we must learn to respect.” ~ Confucius

Why Do You Do What You Do?

I like purple. Why do I like purple? My dad says its because he told me from the time I was a wee little thing that purple was my favorite color. Some might say that's manipulation. Others might use the word "conditioning". Did it work? Apparently.

I say I run late due to the polychronic cultures I grew up in. My dad says it's because of my personality.

I say I got my nose ring because of my cultural upbringing - with loving to see Indian women and their jewelry. I've heard I did it because I'm a punk kid who's trying to follow the "in" crowd of what's popular in the U.S.

So, why the heck do we do what we do? Is it because we just get up one day and decide. Or is it because important people in our lives have "conditioned" us to think and be a certain way. How do we know the difference? Can we know the difference? Do people even care why they think and believe and do what they do? Or are they just going through the motions?

Being a TCK and having interacted with many different types of people and cultures has enabled me to think outside of the box. Or perhaps its because I'm a woman and like to over-analyze. Or perhaps it's because I'm an idealist and like to think of the different possibilities.


So, why do you think you do what you do?