Many Asians who are new to the U.S. say,
“There are rows and rows of houses with beautiful lawns. Amazing! This country must be very rich.” For those who are not accustomed to the American suburb scenery, we may look rich. But I’m feeling poor. And this is not just because of my bank account.
One of my Japanese colleagues from many years ago, said to me,
“I don’t have money. I’m okay with being poor. But I don’t want to feel poor. Do you understand the difference?” Seeing me nod, he talked about his weekend. His wife had been upset when he came home from a walk. She was angry because he had bought a bagel; she thought they had decided not to buy bagels in order to save money. He didn’t enjoy that conversation with her as it made him feel poor. Economic strain can cause extra stress on your marriage, but you can still feel poor with enough money to buy as many bagels as you want. They ended up getting a divorce.
One of my friends works as a babysitter. Her husband had been deported because his immigration documents were incomplete, and he had to wait in his home country for several years. Their son was doing well in the U.S., but their daughter was struggling with a learning disability caused by lead paint. My friend’s budget was extremely tight, but she had grace. She said, “My son likes bagels but I told him that we can’t afford it. Cream cheese? Forget it!” Listening to her story, I was the one who felt poor. Because she was unashamed. Confident. Loving.
One afternoon, several kids were going to have mango sorbet, so I put the plastic container out on the kitchen counter in advance so that it would be easier to scoop. Another mother told me I should microwave it. I responded, “This container isn’t microwave safe. I don’t want to give my kids anything harmful.” This is a common practice most, if not all, Japanese follow.
Then, several months later, she and her husband were over for dinner. Out of the blue, he said,
“You know, it is silly to think that some chemical of a plastic container can leach into the food when you microwave it.” In one long second, many thoughts occurred to me. Have you been holding a grudge against me for all these months? Have you checked the facts about plastics? But I knew expressing my wonders wouldn’t do any good. So, I said, “Well, our kids’ generation has been exposed to plastics since they were born. We need to be extra cautious.” I was glad that he let it go, but I felt poor. Because I avoided a real conversation about the plastic’s potential danger to human health. If I had been kinder, could I have shared the information in a way he could accept? But I still I don’t know how. I also thought about when I started to give up on having a conversation when I knew there was a disagreement?
The advent of the Internet!
Before the Internet, we learned from books, newspapers and magazines. More important, we learned from other people who had read those things. Back then, it was a common understanding that nobody could read everything. Therefore, we had doubts about ourselves; another person may have had a different information source. We were more curious about what other people had to say. So, we asked questions that would often lead to interesting conversations. We thanked them even when we didn’t think the information was useful. I don’t think that back then, we accused anyone of sharing information that we didn’t need.
Although the source of information has largely shifted from paper-based to digital, the reality that everyone cannot have the same information has not changed. But nowadays, people seem to assume that we all know or should know the same things. And some people get upset if I don’t know what they know. “You don’t know about this?” They would raise their eyebrows and snap “Everybody knows this!” But they are not always willing to share what they know. This is a peculiar phenomenon.
And some seem to feel threatened when they realize that they don’t know what others know. And without checking the facts, they tend to blame the information source for their own lack of knowledge, as if that would vindicate them. I still hang onto the old-fashioned way of learning. I want to talk to others who have the knowledge or experience that I don’t have. But maybe people like me are becoming a minority?
Before the Internet, we learned things with a larger degree of serendipity. You opened a newspaper to read about something, but you could then come across other facts and topics. But now we go to cyberspace with a specific purpose. After doing it for so many years, we may have gone a bit too far where we feel we don’t need information that we don’t appreciate. No serendipity. Total focus and control over what we seek out and take in.
In my head, I have replayed the initial conversation about the plastic container many times. How can I improve this? One of my friends recommends repeating “Well, I’ll keep it in mind for next time.” It’s a good tactic, but it sounds manipulative and would make me feel poor. Or I can say “Thank you, but I don’t do that in my house,” and keep the reason to myself? The trouble is that I’m not psychic and can’t sense what others don’t want to know.
I’m sorry if they felt that I imposed unnecessary (and wrong) information on them. I wish I could go back to the Stone Age where we all gathered around a fire and talked about stars and shared legends about our tribe. I imagine that we would feel richer enjoying conversation with curiosity and accepting unwanted information as part of a mystery or myth.
Back in the Internet age, is there any way to feel rich through exchanges of information? With grace to take time to listen to each other, unashamed of what we don’t know, and share information lovingly. Maybe we need a new mantra.
It is Okay that we don’t know everything.