Roundtable Discussion with Dr. Michi Fu

By: Jen Shyu

Michi Fu led an incredible session about the simplicities and complexities of communication, beginning with her question to us – if any of us could relay a successful communication experience whereby we really felt heard by the listener. Ironically enough, the word “heard” was misheard by some of us as “hurt.” I remember asking her to clarify that word because I was one of the people who understood “heard” as “hurt.” Suddenly, this word opened up a can of worms, which Michi gracefully acknowledged and slowly closed, after a couple of NATWA mothers talked about being hurt by their children (i.e. one mother mentioned how hurt she was by her child running away once and not listening to her). Michi tried to focus on the fact that yes, we are hurt when we are not heard. For me, it was much easier to recall unsuccessful communication than it was to recall successful communication, perhaps because struggle in communication causes pain, which has very specific effects on us physically and emotionally, and perhaps because struggle with communication is more rare than success (hopefully). Do we more easily remember the times we laugh or the times we cry?

Another NATWA mom talked about a successful experience though, full of subtlety. Isn’t communication so heavily based on subtleties? This mother spoke of an argument that she was having with her son who wouldn’t listen to her. She said he finally understood her when she told him in English, “I’m an American--don’t I have a right to state my opinion?” The problem was that he was always assuming that his mother’s opinion was actually a directive, telling him to do what she wanted, when in fact, she just wanted to have her opinion heard and then he could then do what he wanted. She said this was the first time he actually realized that yes, she did have a right to her opinion, and that no, he didn’t have to agree with her or do what she thought was best. She just wanted him to hear what she had to say. I often feel that I too sometimes become defensive toward my parents’ opinions that I disagreed with because, when being raised, it was usually in the form of their advice or guidance. Now that I am a grown woman, and they’ve trusted me to make more and more of my own big decisions, it’s easy sometimes to regress to that mode of response that we were used to for most of our lives – to do as we’re told. This tension between generations exists within all cultures, but it’s amazing how common our experiences and the topics of disagreement are as 1^st and 2^nd generation women of Taiwanese heritage (as we saw in Stephanie Yang and Jennifer Kuo’s workshop).

Michi also had us break up into groups to write down all the ways in which we can express strictly from body language that as the listener, we understand the person speaking to us. The first question that arose was whether this understanding could also mean disagreement, and the answer was yes. This was entertaining, watching each person showing off her acting skills – shaking her head yes or no, rolling her eyes, tapping her foot, furrowing her brow, patting the other’s back, stroking her proverbial beard in thought, smiling, laughing, growling in disagreement, putting her hands over her ears, etc. It was surprising to see the variety of gestures that we take for granted in our everyday communication.

The most difficult thing for Taiwanese families is openness and directness. The language issues are not small factors in this flow of communication. I brought up the issue of race as my boyfriend is African-American, and how many 1^st generation Taiwanese do not approve of their daughters or sons marrying African-Americans, but approved of them marrying someone Caucasian. There seems to be a known hierarchy for many Asian-American first generation parents, not just Taiwanese: “if Asian-American children didn’t marry another Asian-American, then marrying Caucasian was ok, but definitely not African-American.” From my conversations with relatives and friends in Taiwan, I know that this is a deep-seeded prejudice that is prevalent in Taiwan because of the low level of interaction between Taiwanese and African-Americans in Taiwan itself. Over the past few years of going there, I’ve noticed that there are not many African-Americans at all, even in Taipei. Therefore, one can imagine an even lesser presence for our great-grandparents, especially in southern Taiwan or in more rural areas. Lack of exposure to anything can breed prejudice, and that’s what I’ve been fighting against since childhood as an Asian-American growing up in rural midwest America. I gave my own example of successful communication with my parents regarding racial equality of all humans and whom we choose to be our partners.

Michi was very good at leading the discussion by asking people to offer suggestions and their own solutions for successful communication from experience rather than Michi’s telling us the “right” way to communicate. She knows that these subtleties of timing and give and take are different for any combination of two people. Michi talked about openness, clarity, and waiting until after an emotional climax subsides to talk over things. This was an important discussion and successful workshop, thanks to Michi and all the NATWA sisters and moms and daughters who participated.