Connecting Roots: East and West

Reflections by Bhikshu Jin-Chuan

An American scoutmaster once spoke to me worried about his son. “I’m concerned. My son listens to me too much.”

I smiled. “​You know in Chinese culture, that wouldn’t be considered a problem. How old is your son?”​

“Twelve. I’m worried that when he grows up he won’t be able to make his own decisions.”

Contrast this to another conversation I had with my Taiwanese friend Jeff who studied Physics with me in college. While writing an essay on Xiao Shun or filial respect, I interviewed my friends from various cultural backgrounds. After sharing with me his positive relationship with his father, Jeff looked at me with a glint in his eye and said, “David, maybe this will make things clear. If I had a girlfriend and my dad didn’t like her. I would drop her immediately.”

I was floored. “We don’t live in the same universe,” I replied, “that thought could not even enter my mind. If I had a girlfriend that my parents didn’t like, I would want to be with her even more!”

These two stories show the dynamic of how cultural expectations can clash: Chinese Confucianism vs American independence, filial respect vs individualism.

When we dive deeper, we find that we perceive the world around us differently. For instance, Americans often focus on individual objects while Chinese pay attention to the context. A video made by a Korean TV station showed a number of surveys that illustrate this point.

Is the person in the front happy?

Is the person in the front still happy?

A happy person standing in front of a group of happy people. Is the front person happy? “Yes,” everyone says. Change the picture so that the person in front is identical (still smiling), but change the background so that all the people behind look angry. Is the front person still happy? A resounding “yes,” was the response of those in America and Europe; in fact, many didn’t even notice a difference between the two pictures. However, Japanese, Chinese, Koreans often said “no, not happy.” Why? “How can the person be happy when everyone behind him was angry?” My mom’s response for the second picture summed it up quite nicely, “That’s a fake smile!” Jin Wei Shi shared, “Of course the person in front is happy. Our happiness is not determined by those around us.” Based on our upbringing, what we see and intuit can be completely different.

This survey of the happy person is a fun exercise, but there are fairly profound implications. Imagine an ABC son or daughter growing up in a Chinese family. The immigrant parents can expect their child to act in a certain way because he or she is “part of the family.” Having grown up in America, the child has been shaped by American values, education, media, and thinks that he or she is an autonomous entity who make his or her own decisions. Dad says, “Don’t do this.” Son says, “I’ll do what I want. I’m my own person!” Or mom advises, “Make sure you do ____.” Daughter replies, “You can’t make me! This is my life!” Or perhaps the more common “diplomatic” answer, “OK” followed by doing whatever he or she wants when mom or dad is gone. For many ABCs, in order to adapt to our environment, we live double lives: one for our parents; another for our friends and living in American society. Life becomes a journey on trying to figure out how to integrate the two realities.

The ABC dilemma is something that I think is much more widespread now. We often are made up of many cultural influences, East and West, traditional and modern, and even modern and post-modern (or post-post-modern). In the monastery, we navigate many “realities” all the time. Just in Berkeley Buddhist Monastery, we have Rev. Heng Sure, born in Ohio who studied Chinese from a young age; DM Jin Fo, born and raised in Taiwan and later became a successful businessman in America; Jin Wei Shi who grew up in Communist Poland and experienced the fall of the Berlin Wall; Chin Liang Shi, a Malaysian elder with deep Confucian values; and myself, an ABC Buddhist monk.

In order to connect at a deeper place then our cultures, we did a “Values Exercise” (try it yourself!) where we try to identify our core value(s). We first choose 10 values from a list of around a hundred, narrow it down to 5, 3, and then simply 1. What is our main core value? We have found that if we can live our main core values there is generally a sense of integrity and purpose. We feel aligned deep from our hearts. However, if we don’t connect to these values, it is easy to feel lost. For sure, this exercise is very “Western” (watch video for explanation). In Asia, you could say that the core value changes depending on the context--which I found to be quite true for myself. Authenticity came up as my main core value when I did the exercise in English; 智慧 (zhi hui, wisdom), 慈悲 (ci bei, compassion) and 孝順 (xiao shun, filiality) when I did it in Chinese. I don’t even know the word for “authenticity” in Chinese!

With an awareness of my values, life becomes an inquiry: “How do I live a life aligned with my values?” and “How do I support others in their values?” This requires listening, both inner and outer. Listening deep in our heart for when we sense that inner alignment and empathizing with others to sense what is in their heart. The monastery is a sacred place for growing in our values and wholesome aspirations. Like the redwood trees that have interconnected roots that provide support and nutrients, but grow to their towering heights “on their own.” A blending of East and West if you will.

That’s why the theme of the day was “Connecting Roots: East and West.” ;)

Caveat: Using the categories of “East” and “West” and making cultural generalizations can be pigeon-holing because they setup expectations that narrow our field of perception. Because of this, I find it important to hold these categories very lightly. They provide possible insights into what is going on, but I try not to fixate on them; instead, I try to attune to those around me with an open heart and mind. I have found ongoing mindfulness practice invaluable in giving a little internal space to allow other people to show up as who they are rather than what I expect them to be in my constant internal narratives or expectations—an internal monastery if you will. The intention for this exploration is not to create more division and separation, but to connect to our shared humanity.

Jacques Verduin, founder of Guiding Rage Into Power, a A One-Year Accountability and Healing Program in San Quentin says it well:

Who is “us” but not all humanity.
Who is “them” but not our own insanity.