All That Glitters…

Fast forward we have been in the USA for 10 years now; the years have flown by, and I am 16 years old. I had always been mature for my age.  I had to grow up quick from the time I was born because my mom was a child herself, my age. Though I don't always agree with her choices, I thank her for giving me life, giving me the name Sonoko, and not aborting me.  She had to make so many sacrifices for me.  She couldn’t finish school with the rest of her classmates because there was no one to look after me. Though later she did end up getting her GED,  I felt as if I was a burden to her.  Her life stemmed from the poor decisions she made. I didn’t want to do the same thing. I pray the generational curse of pregnancy and poverty has been broken. 

For me, I was still trying to get acclimated to the American culture even after years of being here. It was just different.  It was like the Asians didn’t want to be Asian.  They were so Americanized with the blonde or brown hair, even perming their straight hair, and wearing colored contacts.   It was taking me awhile to get used to that because I didn’t want to give up my identity.  My mom was still gorgeous being true to her Asian roots. She had jet black, silky hair cut in a chin length bob. She looked incredible and she kept herself immaculate from head to toe.  Her manicured nails always matched her outfit, and the outfits she wore around the house were more suited for wearing on a first date or to a board meeting.

 It didn’t take mom long to settle into a routine while Paul went to work. She had a daily regimen of working out.  Her body would make younger women think twice about scarfing down a piece of calorie filled cake.  She learned how to cook his favorite foods and made sure that dinner was on the table when he arrived home from work.  She didn’t seem to have any difficulty playing her role of the doting housewife.  It was no wonder white men gravitated to Asian women as mail order brides, they were usually more docile and subservient than women in other cultures.

That wouldn’t be me and Karl.  We would share duties, responsibilities, and would equally care for our children.  Our children would be beautifully exotic since Karl is biracial and I’m Asian.  We would each have individual interests as well as do things as a couple.  Communication, love, and respect would be key elements of our relationship.  I had things planned out in my head and couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Karl Conner.   I couldn’t be the stay-at-home wife while Karl had a career.  I couldn’t be subservient and docile like my mom.  It wasn’t in me.  I remember the first time I met Karl in biology class, I told him he would have to pull his weight on the class project.  I didn’t mince my words.  So when I saw my mom catering to Paul’s every need, it sickened me.  I’m unsure if mom was happy with Paul, it was as if she lost her spark and spunk. 

Trying to be objective, I stepped back and took a hard look at Paul.  To me, there was nothing special about him; Paul was a white American, with average looks and build and the beginning of a receding hairline. He was 10 years older than my mom. Paul seemed to be pleased with her. Who wouldn’t be? Mom was his trophy wife who attended social events, ballet recitals, operas, golf tournaments.  She looked good on Paul’s arm, and he was happy to show off his beautiful wife wherever they went. 

Paul offered her the opportunity to experience some of the luxuries of life she otherwise could not afford. He smelled like money everywhere he went. Our house, nothing short of a mansion, had winding stairwells and dangling crystal chandeliers that sparkled like prisms, allowing the light to cast shadows of artwork on the walls.  Paul had a black Rolls Royce and a burgundy Bentley.  I kept expecting a chauffeur in a black uniform with a chauffeur’s hat to jump out of the car to open his door. Since, he couldn’t drive both cars at once.  He gave mom one of the cars; she chose the Bentley. But all that glitters isn’t gold. Everything was all about prestige with them, sadly mom was becoming more like Paul.  Now that mom had wealth, she turned her nose up at others.  I didn’t like who she was becoming when she was with him.

I didn’t tell them about Karl intentionally.  He was biracial, but they would consider him black.  It’s not that my mom didn’t like black people, she didn’t like them for me. My grandparents were like that as well with my mom.  She was groomed to marry within our culture or marry white. I never agreed with that tradition; I would only marry for love.   That’s why my mother wasn’t happy.  I could see it in her eyes.  Even though she enjoyed the fruits of Paul’s labor, he showed little emotion or affection towards her.  I felt sorry for her really.  She was in a loveless marriage but was too caught up to leave.   Lucy from the agency had told my mom that there was one stipulation that differed from this arranged marriage as opposed to a traditional one.  If the bride left of her own fruition, divorced, or separated she was not entitled to get half the wealth after 10 years of marriage. In a traditional marriage a wife would be entitled to pension, retirement, social security, and any other accumulated wealth after 10 years of marriage. So, if my mom left Paul, she would get nothing, nada, zilch, zero.  She would also be in a country where she was not a naturalized citizen.  She would have to start her life over again and get a job. After mom had gotten a taste of the luxury life, I would say that my mom was not willing to give it up no matter what.   She would just grin and bear Paul’s antics through life. But I still felt sorry for her because I know that she felt trapped. Or maybe she thought about what her life would have been like if she had aborted me.  She would still have the love and support of her parents and Emi.  Well, it is what it is.  No going back now.

Something concerned me about Paul, and I wondered if my mom knew about it.  I overheard Paul talking on the phone with one of his colleagues one day. I overheard some things that would make me call him a bigot or outright racist. I learned that Paul was raised with the mindset that white people were the superior race.  He had no sympathy for the homeless, or people who were down and out due to life’s circumstances.  He spoke negatively about people who were on government assistance, Even if they were single mothers who worked but couldn’t afford to make ends meet and needed a little help. Did he know that my mom was one of those people?  Paul was a snob and a fake.  He acted kind and charitable in front of others but deep down had a disdain, especially for Black and Brown people. You know what they say, what’s done in the dark will eventually come to light.

I was use to my mom and Paul being too busy with their social calendar to attend any of my school events.  Besides, I didn’t want them to come, that was my time to spend with Karl.  One day, “Just because” they both decided to surprise me and pick me up after school to take me to dinner.   Well, oblivious to me, they saw Karl and I kissing outside, while cuddling with each other before they called out to me from afar.  Strangely they never said anything to me when i got in the car and they drove home.  

Karl and I continued as usual seeing each other discreetly so we thought.  We couldn’t get enough of each other. It was our six-month anniversary of dating.  I decided it was time to introduce Karl to my mom and Paul.  I was tired of sneaking around and not being able to be open with our love.

What could they say?  I would tell them that I would be going to college and making life choices of my own.  Karl was smart, handsome, articulate and treated me like a queen.  We were both responsible young adults and had just started having sex using protection.  I wasn’t going to be like her and get pregnant early and be left dealing with the aftermath.  And if that were to happen, Karl would stand by my side and help me raise our baby.  I would tell them that Karl had a football scholarship, a full ride.  He also had a business plan to back him up if the football career didn’t work out.