Finding the Inner Balance (Feature) New Plans in the Works for Houston’s ‘Old Chinatown’ (in National News) APA Suspects Sought in Hate-Related Assault (in Bay Area News) Ultimate Diversions: ‘Warcraft III’: Blizzard Does it Again (in Business) Johnny Damon Key in Ending Yankees Dynasty (in Sports) Hot ‘n’ Sour Dish: Barbie Food, Anyone? (in A&E) Emil Amok: The Great Yellow Hope (in Opinion)

Reflections on Turning 30

By Denise Tang

In the last five months, three of my colleagues and myself have turned 30. We anticipated each other’s birthdays, checked in on our turning-30 status, and asked about how it has been for each other. We wanted to know what has been different and what has remained the same. We have all experienced the hype of turning 30. We heard it from our friends, our co-workers and our relatives. After all, being 30 years old has been the subject of countless numbers of books and television sitcoms.

What is it about turning 30 that renders a thousand words? My partner told me that no one asked her about getting married once she passed the age of 30. When she was 29 and visited home, every relative and friend “encouraged” her to get married, as if the golden age of 29 is your last chance to figure out your life as a woman. She is out as a bisexual woman to some, but not to all. For those relatives and friends she was not out to, their questions implied an urgency to get her act together, to settle down with someone, somewhere, somehow before she turned 30.

I turned 30 on April 15 of this year. Since then, I finished an exercise of self-reflection according to the Chinese tradition of self-criticism during the era of Cultural Revolution. I laid down five-year plans as if I were in the Great Leap Forward with Comrade Mao Tse-Tung. I tried to eat healthy and to exercise more in the spirit of banking my energy reserves for future years to come. I sifted through stacks of paper and boxes of photos, trying to remember my last 15 years to get hints of what I need to accomplish in the next 15. I want to be tactful, strategic and most of all, to be cautious of what risks I will take and what paths I will choose. But why does being 30 translate into such a serious ritual of cleansing and thinking ahead?

I posed this question to my parents. When my mother was 32, she brought my sister and me to Hong Kong from London. I was 1-and-a-half years old and my sister was 4. My parents thought Hong Kong would be a better place for the family. My mother packed everything up and began another chapter of her life. My father believed that Hong Kong had more business opportunities for him. Later, I came upon an essay that my grandfather wrote in which he talked about how my father was summoned by him to return to his roots — that is, come back to Hong Kong. My father was also 32. Who would have known that 30 years later my parents would be divorced and living in separate countries?

One of my many goals after turning 30 is to know my parents more and to understand where they are coming from. As a product of an astronaut family (a common term referred to Chinese families when one parent resides in Canada or the U.S. and the other works in Hong Kong), I began the Canadian immigration process in 1989. I was 17 years old when I moved to Vancouver. At the same time, I began a process of queerification in North America. Even though I knew I was a lesbian since I was 12, I learned the political language of feminism and gay activism in North America as an adult. I went to anti-oppression protests, worked at women’s centers, participated in Pride parades and read theoretical texts in cultural studies classes. I learned to be queer in this part of the world (I am still learning these days).

Yet after 13 years living in North America, I am starting to feel the pangs of Hong Kong pulling at my heart. It is not a whisper of “What if you try it out in Hong Kong?” It is more like a tug of war, with returning “home” winning sometimes and staying in North America winning at other times. I realized that I am beginning to face the worst fear of my life: becoming a typical Hong Kongnese.

A large proportion of Hong Kong residents like to travel. They do not want to feel tied down to a particular place, a particular period of time or a particular way of living. There are always new borders to cross, new inventions to test, new menus to taste. The colonial history of this island and its surrounding territories sent a strong message to its people: Be independent and find your own success stories. As a result, people living in Hong Kong learn to always have a contingency plan for everything, from what you do for a living to where you would go for dinner if your favorite restaurant is closed.

I can feel the humming of a Hong Kong pulse these days. I can visualize the commercial on Hong Kong airwaves saying, “Everybody loves Hong Kong. Don’t litter.” I think turning 30 has made me think more seriously about what fears I have, and I am starting to make steps toward facing them.

My mother recently graduated from a community college in Vancouver with a diploma in early childhood education at the age of 60. My father remarried and remained happily working and living in Hong Kong. A few months ago, I had the chance to ask my stepmother what she did different when she was around 30. She told me that she decided not to be a housewife anymore and returned to work.

I anticipate this year to be full of questions and not a lot of answers. I expect the answers to come when the time is ripe for them to reveal themselves. The most important thing is I am up for it, and there is nothing like being ready for life’s little surprises.

Denise Tang was inspired by the last “Paying Attention” column by Dredge Byung’Chu Kang, “Showing My Age.” She was also inspired by her colleagues, Claire, Lisa and Shin-Yi, at A&PI Wellness Center.