Oh hey, I guess that's me

A piece in the Townies section of the Times today:

I have a hard time with my Chinese-American identity. My parents are Chinese. This I can say with certainty. They can speak the language; they can write it; they can follow the subtle shifting social cues that are demanded of them. It is as if they possess an essential lens of “Chineseness” through which they view the world.

For me it’s harder.

I am what some in the Asian community would refer to as an A.B.C.: an American-Born Chinese. A Twinkie. A banana. Yellow on the outside but white on the inside. The kind of person who prefers spaghetti over lo mein, who is more at home with the steady action of a fork than the clumsy pincering of a pair of chopsticks.