Those Blue and White Rice Grain Bowls--yet another rant about undergrad

There are these beautiful plates and bowls and dishes that I have in my house. They are the kind of ceramic that is common in many Asian households with thinner patterns of rice grains where the light can shine in.

Being on Subtle Cantonese Traits (I'm Cantonese!), I've seen these kinds of plates out and about. You can buy them mass-produced now because making them by hand is labor-intensive. Therefore, I really cherish the ones we have in our house and hid a few away as decorations in my bedroom.

I didn't always though. As a child, I didn't like that they were so fragile and that my dad kept chipping the sides. I preferred the hardy white plates that we got as part of matching white sets. They stacked better in the cabinet, whereas the white and blue bowls didn't always fit easily inside one another--and some plates were slightly different sizes.

Now I like the Asian bowls over the plain white ones--(Wow, what a great metaphor about embracing culture...)

As an adult, I much prefer the Asian plates and bowls because I admire the craftsmanship, the design, and the feelings of being part of a greater community. When I first saw a post online about how "everyone" just knew about them because of how "common" they were, it made me feel like I at least hadn't missed out them.

When I went to undergrad, people liked to shout about cultural appropriation being anything from valid things (like Native American headdresses) to absolutely ridiculous things (she's white and so she's not allowed to eat dumplings! You're Asian and you're a racist if you eat tacos!). I became fearful that the Asian plates in my household, a reflection of my own identity being embraced by my family, was in violation of cultural appropriation and it made me feel conflicted and depressed. 

Why wasn't my family allowed to have Asian things in the house? It was my house too and I was Asian! But that was the crux of it wasn't it? The people at my undergrad did not like that I was transracially adopted and that my parents were white because white was wrong. But if I were also white, then that would be alright...so was the real problem for these "woke" students that I was not white?

In the end, I myself was the most egregious error to cultural appropriation because my Asian body didn't belong with my own family--according to the professors and students at my undergraduate college. After being removed from that toxic environment, I began to have room to clear my head and think for myself, without the fear of being screamed at in a classroom for simply having "yellow" skin. 

I've come to the conclusion that I actually do belong wherever I damn well please. My family is my family and no words you pull from your ass will change that.

And yeah, I like the blue and white bowls in my house and you can all just fuck off.