Jian Ping is the author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China, which has been developed into an award-winning documentary film. Ping was born and raised in China.
Her daughter, Lisa Xia is originally from Changchun, China, but was raised largely between cultures for more than 20 years in the United States. Xia graduated from the University of Illinois and now works in Edelman’s Business + Social Purpose practice, where she specializes in strategy and execution in corporate social responsibility and sustainability programs.
Today, they’re talking about “goutong”: communication between a mother and daughter.
Jian: I recently read Harriet Evans’s “The subject of gender: daughters and mothers in urban China,” and the chapter on “communicative bonds” between mother and daughter resonated deeply with me. It made me think of the communication between us. I feel I bear the lion’s share of responsibility for not getting the “goutong” between us over the years.
Lisa: Mother-daughter relationships are never perfect. It’s a universal theme. No one gets it right, and it always looks rosier from the outside. What expectations did you have?
Jian: I grew up in the ’60s and ’70s in China. Affection in my family, actually in most of the families in China, was expressed by action instead of words. Children were expected to respect and obey their parents and the concept of “goutong” between mother and daughter didn’t exist. In fact, a mother’s authority was placed on the pedestal and a distance was expected from her children. I revered my mother and father and never talked to them on the same level, like “friends,” as some Americans would say—that would be absurd.
The chaotic situation in China also taught me not to burden my parents with problems I encountered. The politics of the time played a key role in creating emotional distance between parents and children; the traditional Chinese culture also endorsed it. When you were a child, I expected you to listen, obey, and understand.
Lisa: I’m not sure about “burden”, but I guess I didn’t want to engage you with my problems. I don’t think most children do anyway,
and the feeling that “you just wouldn’t understand” is pretty universal. But, unlike American parents who might say, “try me,” it was really as if you’d grown up in an entirely different universe.
I think the other part of this was the expectation to blindly obey and listen. I’ve never believed in inherent authority, like I don’t believe in following rules without rationale that I believe in. I think that’s cultural as well. That probably drove you crazy.
Jian: I think the most difficult years between us were when you were in high school. I felt like I ran into a wall. I wanted to know what was going on in your life, the joys and problems you had, but found the door shut to my face. I was very upset and disappointed. I don’t think I ever went through a rebellious stage in my teenage years in China.
Lisa: There was a part of me that felt that by “getting to know me” you meant to pry—show disapproval for the things you didn’t agree with and fit me into the framework of the daughter you wanted me to be: sweet, obedient, responsible. I was little of these things. And I felt like talking was a sneaky way to drive change in me.
Jian: Not a sneaky way. It was meant to change you, to have you gain more understanding of my position.
Lisa: I actually don’t think things started to get better until I moved to boarding school. The distance removed the day-to-day minutia and allowed us to enjoy more of each other’s company—build positive reinforcement for spending time together. By not living under the same roof, the cycle of nagging (sorry Mom, you did) and resentment (perhaps us both) broke for air, and we were finally able to have fun, share stories, and laugh.
I guess that’s the cultural difference as well: I don’t want to spend time out of obligation; I don’t respond well to it, as you know. To me, that’s not valiant duty; it’s a negative cycle of interaction. I want to spend time with people because I desire to, and happily, I think that’s where we fit today.
It’s fun to hang out and catch up over dinner like friends, but you know, when you push too hard or start to nag, I’m an annoyed teenager all over again.
Jian: Well, through trials and error, especially after the release of our movie, I’m glad we’ve come to a higher level of “goutong.” Of course, it helps that you are much older and mature, and I now regard you not only as a daughter, but also as an independent and intelligent individual—maybe even a friend.
I’m glad we’ve begun the process.
Read previous blog posts from Jian and Lisa here: http://www.asianfortunenews.com/?s=mulberry+stories