Why It’s Essential to Reflect on Asian American Intergenerational Patterns
What We Leave Behind and What We Take With Us
What aspects of our cultural inheritance serve us? What traditions do we choose to keep alive in our lives, and if we have children, what do we want to pass on to them from our cultures and families? What patterns from our families can we lovingly release?
If you’re like me, you might have had times in your life when you’ve had to grapple with these complex questions. Growing up in Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander (AANHPI) families often means existing at the intersection of multiple worlds. We hold both the ancestral wisdom from our families and the knowledge and ideas of our contemporary, Western world. Sometimes, we feel pulled between two poles: past and present, individual and family, tradition and American culture. Other times, we dance between and around these different ways of being, living with a beautiful but sometimes delicate balance. All of this is normal. If this is your experience, you are not alone! And of course, our ideas about these things change and evolve throughout life. We get older and (hopefully) wiser. I’ve come to believe that therapy is a wonderful space to process and clarify what our cultural and emotional “inheritance” is and what we want it to be.
A Complex Cultural Inheritance
Our families of origin and ancestral cultures offer us gifts that span generations. I think of language as one such gift that connects us to our ancestral roots. Another example is cultural values, such as filial piety, that ground us in community and act as a compass for our priorities in life. Sometimes, what we get from our families are not just treasures. We may also come from families that have experienced historical trauma, such as war, persecution, displacement, etc. Older generations in our families may have developed survival mechanisms and worldviews to adapt to the brutal realities of their lives. Intergenerational trauma is challenging because where one generation may have learned to be cautious with resources, skeptical of new information, or focused primarily on survival and security, younger generations may be able to prioritize curiosity, self-reflection, and personal growth. Neither approach is inherently right nor wrong, but the different perspectives can feel overwhelming and impossible to bridge. For a more detailed discussion of intergenerational trauma among AANHPIs, I recommend you read my 2-part series on this very topic. Part 1 is here and Part 2 is here.
In this post, I’m exploring more specifically the process of deciding what to keep and what to let go of from families and culture. To be clear, my intention is not to set up the binary of rejection or conformity. My way of thinking about it is more that I believe we can make some intentional choices that honor both our heritage and our individual growth. It might be helpful to think of it as an evolution of cultural values and heritage rather than an abandonment of them.
If I’m Not Who They Want Me to Be, Who am I?
Over the years, I’ve worked with so many AANHPI adults who experience pain, guilt, and sadness when they realize they cannot be the person their parents want them to be. In addition to facing the emotional suffering of this situation, my clients have also had to figure out who they are if they are not going to be exactly the person someone else wanted them to be. This kind of identity work is not easy and it can feel messy and de-stabilizing in the beginning. It takes so much courage just to say to oneself and others, “No, this is not who I am.” And then to clarify who you actually want to be is hard work that entails seeing yourself clearly and accepting what you want for yourself, even if it surprises you.
It’s important in this process of acceptance and change to realize that we have permission to choose what we carry with us from our families. We can’t figure these things out without deep reflection. Here are some questions to consider. You might journal about these questions or close your eyes and engage in quiet contemplation.
What nourishes you? Perhaps it's a comforting dish your grandmother made that connects you to a positive sense of home and childhood. Perhaps it’s a soondubu restaurant you used to frequent with your family and it was an experience that you enjoyed together. In many cultures, seasonal or holiday eating is a big deal, with special foods eaten and celebrated during certain times of the year. In Crying in H Mart, Michelle Zauner captured the beautiful and connective ritual of buying groceries with her mother at the Korean-American grocery store chain, H Mart.
Food isn’t the only thing from previous generations that can nourish us. Think about singing and dancing, like karaoke. What about meditation, chanting, prayer? Movement practices like qi gong, tai chi, yoga?
What doesn’t feel good for you that you still respect and understand? Sometimes cultural values need translation or updating rather than letting go of altogether. For instance, the value of family loyalty might evolve into healthy interdependence so that you don’t feel like you’re expected to do more than is good for your own well-being. Another good example is that respect for elders might include honoring their wisdom while also feeling empowered to make one’s own choices. Bonus points for gently discussing that difference with elders!
What constrains your growth? This could be rigid gender roles, including the expectation that all women have children. This could also be the shame-based approaches to mental health that we sometimes encounter in Asian communities. Letting go of these patterns isn't about disrespecting your culture so much as it's about stopping the harm caused by these patterns from going further in your life or in the lives of younger members of your family. Just as mainstream American culture has toxic elements we want to change, sometimes our AANHPI communities might have views that do not align with our personal values. That’s okay. Think about what you find limiting, invalidating, unfair, too outdated. How can you adapt or update the tradition or belief or saying?
Grief of Difference, Loss, and Change
For any of us on this journey, the most difficult part of choosing our own path is confronting the grief that comes with being different from our families and cultural communities. We have to mourn for the closeness we might have had if we shared the same worldview, the same priorities, or the same ways of engaging with life. We might even have to go back a bit further in time and grieve that loss of a strong and coherent connection to our family’s home country because of migration or displacement. We may grieve not being the person our family wants us to be.
The sadness of not fitting the family script doesn't mean we're making the wrong choices. It means we're human, and connection with our origins matters to us, even when we can't maintain that connection without compromising our authentic selves.
Self-Reflection is Key
The first step to answering these questions for ourselves is developing the capacity for self-examination, which may not be something that was modeled in our families. It makes sense that when survival is the priority, reflection can feel unnecessary or even unsafe. But when we have more stability and resources, the ability to examine our patterns, motivations, and choices becomes crucial for personal growth. This doesn't mean earlier generations were wrong for focusing on survival and security. It means we have different opportunities and therefore, different responsibilities. We can honor their sacrifices by using the stability they created to engage in the deeper work of understanding ourselves and healing intergenerational patterns.
You don’t need anyone else’s permission or approval to re-frame things this way. The way to get to this place of self-acceptance is to engage in self-reflection. Without self-reflection, we may react in ways we don’t understand or allow others to “push our buttons” in unhelpful and harmful ways. Self-reflection is necessary for clarity and growth. Learning to hold both love and boundaries, connection and differentiation, becomes an ongoing practice and self-reflection is needed to support and maintain that practice.