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Meet the mixed-heritage Chinese New Zealanders using language to reconnect with their roots

07:57 am on 24 September 2024

Jessie Chiang in Taiwan. Photo: Supplied

It's understandable some mixed-heritage Chinese New Zealanders have jumbled feelings about retaining their native language.

On one hand, it's hard to retain a language on a practical level when it's not universally spoken by others around you.

On the other hand, an individual might be struggling with issues of identity that cause them to dismiss a language that is spoken by their parents on the grounds that it doesn't represent who they are.

But some Chinese Kiwis are taking proactive steps to engage in their native languages later in their lives to reconnect to their roots.

'New world of possibilities'

RNZ producer Jessie Chiang was born in New Zealand to parents who migrated from Taiwan.

Chiang's parents took her to Chinese lessons at a young age once her English ability surpassed her Mandarin.

"I do remember thinking as a kid, 'What was the point learning Chinese?' I lived in New Zealand, and we spoke English," Chiang says.

"Both me and my younger sister, who was also born here in New Zealand, got to a point where we both put up so much attitude that my mum just gave up and we stopped taking Chinese lessons."

A confident Mandarin speaker, Chiang didn't read or write Chinese until she visited Taiwan as an adult in 2022 and undertook some Chinese lessons over a period of six months.

A few years before that, she had tried to learn Chinese via a short programme in Taiwan, driven by a realisation of the language's importance, but wasn't able to retain much information.

"When I was younger I had maybe a bit of internalised racism, which made me neglect the parts of my heritage that are really important," Chiang says.

"Even going further than just language, learning the history of China, of Taiwan, of all these different places," she says.

"It's such a rich history, very complicated and hard at times, but it's so interesting, and I just never learnt any of it growing up.

"I just started on this journey, like, I really want to know more of who I am and the culture."

Chiang says she is lucky to have learnt the basics of Mandarin having spoken the language at home, but being able to read and write opened her up to "a whole new world of possibilities, information and content".

Jennifer Cheuk Photo: RNZ / Liu Chen

Deeper connection

Writer Jennifer Cheuk, who published a book on mixed-heritage creatives in New Zealand earlier this year, describes her relationship to Chinese language as being "really strange".

"My dad speaks fluent Cantonese. My mum is conversational. I was never really encouraged to learn Cantonese," says Cheuk, a mixed Hong Kong Chinese and Welsh European New Zealander.

Cheuk says her father, who was from Hong Kong, believed that Cantonese was a dying language and so encouraged her to learn Mandarin instead for "a better future".

As a result, Cheuk took part in some rigorous Mandarin lessons as a child.

"But I felt so disconnected with Mandarin," Cheuk said. "I was barely retaining anything outside of the kind of examination circumstances, and I felt so guilty that I couldn't speak my own language.

"My extended family don't really speak Mandarin. My dad was watching movies in Cantonese. All the conversations around me were barely in Mandarin, so I felt, like, what was the point?"

As Cheuk interacted with more people who are of a similar background, she started to realise the importance of connecting with her cultural heritage and learning Cantonese.

"And also my parents are getting older and I really want to be able to connect on a deeper level with my dad as well and to be able to actually not have to interrupt conversations," she says, adding that there has always been some linguistic barriers as her dad doesn't understand some English and she doesn't understand some Cantonese.

Cheuk joined a Cantonese lesson at a community centre last year, where she came across many others who were also trying to pick up their lost heritage language.

"I think people don't talk about this journey a lot. It can feel ... almost embarrassing to have to go back as an adult and learn this sort of thing," Cheuk says.

"But there are so many different reasons why you didn't get taught it," she says. "I think just being gentle with myself and meeting other people who are also trying as well, that's the best thing you can do."

Cheuk believes she wouldn't be able to fully connect with her heritage if she couldn't connect with language.

"There're so many idioms and humor and quirks and just things that can only be communicated through language, so I think that's something I you could be reminded at all times."

She notes there are a lot of different dialects of Chinese and learning Mandarin shouldn't be the sole focus.

Ersha Island's Danielle Hao-Aickin (right) and her younger sister, Tee, in traditional Chinese clothes. Photo: Supplied

Language of music

Mixed-heritage musician Danielle Hao-Aickin uses the sound of traditional Chinese instruments as well as lyrics in Chinese to explore her heritage.

Born to a Chinese mother and a Kiwi father, Hao-Aickin grew up with her grandparents in the northwestern Chinese city of Xi'an until moving to New Zealand permanently at the age of 16.

Having experienced few problems being a mixed-race person in China, she was surprised to discover that some people in New Zealand ridiculed her English accent and made racist comments.

"I kind of went through a phase when I first came in New Zealand, for the first four or five years, where I felt shame to speak Mandarin and I felt shame to be Chinese," she recalls.

"I refused to speak Mandarin for a long time - until I guess I turned 21," she says. "I became a lot more open to understanding who I am as a biracial person, but I do feel like I'm losing my language."

Hao-Aickin and her younger sister, Tee, formed a band called Ersha Island they named after a place in Guangdong in southern China.

The duo has produced an EP titled "Back To Our Roots" that features Chinese lyrics extensively.

"Our music is almost like a way of trying to embrace our heritage through art," Hao-Aickin says.

"We worked with traditional Chinese instruments ... and we put Mandarin lyrics in our songs, both ones that we've written ourselves as well as ones that we've kind of worked with our friends to write.

"It's very much trying to be a reflection of who we are as people, which is biracial and proud Chinese musicians."

She says people shouldn't feel baffled about their own identity because of other people's comments.

"You are who you say you are, not who other people say you are," she says.

"It's important that you're able to embrace it in your own terms, in your own time and when it feels right, not because other people make you feel less."

Thomas Ding Photo: Supplied

Heritage baton

Thomas Ding believes it is challenging to retain conversational Cantonese once older generations pass away.

A descendant of prominent Chinese businessman Choie Sew Hoy, Ding and his family have lived in New Zealand for several generations.

"A lot of my grandparents have passed on now and it's just my grandma on my dad's side who's around, and so it really has been a challenge to keep the Cantonese going," Ding says.

Ding took Chinese courses at a young age at the behest of his grandparents, who saw value in retaining the family's native tongue.

He now speaks fluent Cantonese, though still uses English as his primary language.

He remembers as a child when his grandfather would give him advice like "remember where you're from" and "don't forget our humble beginnings".

"I remember my granddad ... had a huge respect for cultures like the Māori culture or Pacifica cultures, where they kept a lot of their taonga (treasure) and their language and a lot of their cultural practice close to them," Ding says. "In a way, we should do that too."

Ding acknowledges it's not uncommon for younger generations to cast aside the history and heritage of their forefathers so they can assimilate with others in the society.

"The opportunities to speak it were few and far between," he says. "But those opportunities that you had were going to a grandparents' place, not as cool as hanging out with other 13-year-olds at the time."

Ding says Cantonese is a big part of his family history.

"It's something special that reminds us of each other and of our past as well," he says.

"Family aside, it's just such a fun expression of language ... even the tones and the imagery," he says. "I really like the characters and the writing because it's sort of pictures and symbols and that's super fun."

Ding tries to catch up with friends and converse solely in Cantonese.

"I have to really stop and think about things twice a lot, which can be quite frustrating for me because I just want to get my ideas out," he says.

"But it's also really fun to try and converse and think in a completely different language."