My Mother’s Shock Of My ‘Having a Boyfriend'
‘’Is he your boyfriend!?’’
I was six years old and at the park with my parents down the hill from our home.
I was sitting on a bench when a male classmate of Indian descent named Khizer Syed skated by in this rollerblades, upon entering the park (I was near the entrance), and he said, ‘’Hello, Debbie.’’
I nodded and answered, ‘’Hello’’ in response without thinking much of anything.
My mother, though, who sat across from me with my father, was completely stunned. Her eyes were wide with surprise and she raised her hand up with a finger pointing in the direction of where Khizer skated past and exclaimed in a bewildered tone if Khizer were my boyfriend. She said it in English yet I didn’t understand her.
Khizer was one of the few classmates who were friendly with me in our first grade class. He was a really thin child with a smile always on his face and two front crooked teeth. His mother dressed conservatively in Muslim dress which included her headscarf as well (just to go off topic, briefly, this is why I’ve never understood how dressing any certain way can create any sort of ‘weird appearance’. In my childhood, I saw so many wonderfully, diverse characters that I’ve never questioned how anyone appeared) and she worked in the school cafeteria. She used to gently tell us children to make sure not to forget to throw away our styrofoam trays when we ere down with our lunches.
I saw nothing wrong with replying to Khizer that early evening at the park. I didn’t know why my mother looked visibly upset. She then spoke in Cantonese to my father about how we had to go home right away so she could speak to me about my super short exchange with Khizer. My father closed his eyes a minute before opening them and told my mother that it wasn’t a big deal. I was a six-year-old child and there was nothing to be concerned about.
‘’I want to go home now!’’
My mother got mad at that point and my father told me that all of us were leaving.
I still couldn’t understand why my mother was upset.
When the three of us were home, my mother spoke in her usual Cantonese about how wrong it was to have a boyfriend at my age. I couldn’t understand why my mother lectured me so harshly about a simple ‘’Hello!’’. I don’t know what in her mind had her think that Khizer and I were kissing and hugging each other behind her back. We only said, ‘’Hello!’’ to each other.
I was unhappy the more she talked and talked and talked, working herself up to anger.
I thought and thought about what I possibly did wrong but I failed to see what was wrong with saying ‘’Hello!’’ to someone who greeted me. I thought it was normal to respond to someone who greeted me. At school, everyone spoke to each other and I often observed outside that everyone replied to one another’s greetings. I only thought it was logical to greet someone who always showed me kindness.
Seeing my mother so unhappy didn’t make me feel good, though. I remember feeling like a criminal.
I had such a mother that set me up to be a serious, thoughtful child.
Whenever I saw my male classmates at random after that (like at the public library or at the local YMCA or at a convenience store), we’d do nothing but say, ‘’Hi’’ and that was it.
When I was a pre-teen, my father also started to say to stay away from boys.
He’d tell me in one sentence in a stern voice, ‘’Don’t have a boyfriend’’.
I talked to a male classmate from Brazil named Igaro in the phone a few times who happened to have a lot of female friends and, from what I knew of Brazilians, Brazilians have always been, to me, the friendliest group of people ever. The Brazilians, too, in my life, would notice me alone sometimes and they’d always come to me with big smiles and chat with me. (I’ve always liked Brazilians throughout my life. I’ve taught a group of Brazilians for a few months once and they were the happiest group I’ve encountered.) I saw no wrong in conversing with Igaro because he, like Khizer, was someone with positive energy. He wasn’t any person with malice at all.
My father answered the phone once and allowed me to speak to Igaro for a moment when he told me not to speak to boys in the phone after I was done speaking to Igaro.
I was twelve years old and disappointed that my father said that because I got along better with boys than with girls and I only saw the ones I spoke to in childhood and my pre-teens as friends. For both my parents to know very little to zero about how I hardly got along with girls and how much it meant to me to have some sort of contact with my peers hurt me. Without talking to my male classmates, I rarely got to speak at all.
I didn’t like how my parents automatically assumed that when a boy and girl spoke to each other, then they were most definitely boyfriend and girlfriend. I couldn’t understand how their minds worked that way. I had no feelings other than hoping to have a couple of friends.
I spoke to other boys in the phone at the time and I learned so much about other cultures and life experiences. I’ve always thought that my talking to boys was a good thing because they were people like girls and I was going to eventually talk to men anyway later in life. Wasn’t it more beneficial for me to learn to talk to both boys and girls at an early age?
Even when I was in high school, my parents were equally adamant against my talking to boys even when, at the time, I still got along with boys far better than with girls and the boys I talked to were good people. If my parents knew that the boys I talked to had passions for cooking, learning Japanese, helping and hoping to make enough money for their single moms, hoping to become doctors and that a few of those boys were gay, came from immigrant families and talked in pretty much the same way that I imagined girls talked (like about new TV sitcoms), if they were only willing to be open-minded then I certainly would’ve had some friends from school perhaps.
I’ve never been one to argue with my parents. They’re Chinese immigrant baby boomers. I’ve never wanted to argue because I understand that gender relations were probably very different in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s for my parents in Mainland China (my mother) and for my dad in Hong Kong. I’ve grown up with a lot of cultures and I think it’s fair to understand where people may come from.
Maybe it’d be nice if my parents understood and got to know me but, maybe, it’s not a thing for Chinese baby boomer parents to understand their children. (I can’t picture how a family unit can be in any way harmonious otherwise, though, if there’s no mutual understanding).
I’d like to argue that even if I were more than friends with a male classmate in my teens, I think it would have been a good thing to know what a relationship was like. People are more likely to be in some kind of relationship throughout their lives than not. It’s important to know about solving relationship conflicts and how to cooperate with another person. I also support young people loving another. Why not? I’d rather a teenager love another than to become a sociopath. To think of another person, to want to do something for another and to show compassion are good things. Love is a wonderful thing to feel. I wouldn’t tell a young person not to love someone (unless that their partner treated them like a doormat, perhaps). I’d instead encourage the person to love and advise them on how to maintain the relationship.
Having a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship is only another way to relate to another person. It’s a good idea for teenagers to go on dates because teen dating creates more experienced and knowledgeable young people. I support teenagers learning to communicate well and having more experiences. It’s good for teenagers to figure out what a healthy relationship is — what works and doesn’t work.
I wouldn’t raise someone the way that my parents have raised me. I’d encourage someone under my care to learn to get used to being around others. One point in having a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship is to learn to socialize well. Being positively together with others in any way is good.
Why keep people apart and keep them from feeling something good for another?
