Anika is an adopted Chinese-American woman living in Portland, Oregon. I had the pleasure of interacting with her while facilitating a session for the University of San Francisco’s Anthropology of Food program. This story takes me back to the first time I tried folding Lunar dumplings with my chosen fam; in my San Francisco apartment some time in 2015.

When we equate family with blood relations, we exclude many families with non-traditional dynamics – including me. ‘Familyhood’ is dynamic, meaningful, and without limitations. I find that I have two families; (1) my adopted family that is now merely ‘family’; and (2) my chosen family of childhood friends that have impacted me in so many ways. This is an ode to my chosen family. Before I delve into my chosen family; and the associated memories of making dumplings I hold, as a non-Native person it is especially important to acknowledge the land I currently live on; to further resist the erasure of indigenous people. The Portland Metro area rests on traditional village sites of the Multnomah, Wasco, Cowlitz, Kathlamet, Clackamas, Bands of Chinook, Tualatin, Kalapuya, Molalla, and many other tribes. 

Looking Back

Learning about my Chinese heritage was something my parents valued; thus we moved from San Diego, CA to Portland, OR when I was three years old; so that I could attend one of the only public Mandarin Immersion Programs (MIP) in the United States. While this meant I would learn about my heritage and mother tongue, it also meant growing up in the largest white city in America; wherein nearly 80% of the population is white. As a small Chinese girl with two 6ft tall white parents, we stuck out like a sore thumb to most; but we were just as normal as any other family in my MIP, making all the difference. The MIP is a K-12 program, wherein we would begin our Chinese Immersion classes from kindergarten to 12th grade. Through the years our numbers dwindled, however, the 25 people left became my family. My chosen family. 

Our journey from classmates to family has been a long one full of group cries to shouting “我有拉肚子!”  (I have diarrhoea!) across the street. But when I think about my chosen family, food especially comes to mind: Attending the annual Lunar New Year festival my elementary school would throw; and impatiently wait for my vegetable dumplings so that I could go play games with my friends in the gym. I think about volunteering at a local food pantry that allows students to speak with Chinese elders while communally making their ancestral foods. And about middle school us going back to our elementary school’s Lunar New Year festival and reminiscing together about the joy we all shared. I think about all forty of us crammed into our tiny classroom meant for twenty and holding out my plate to receive the freshly steamed dumplings we made thanks to my Chinese teacher. 

Looking Ahead

I hold these memories of my chosen family so close because most students in the MIP were also Chinese-American adoptees– just like me. Our shared experiences and challenges have helped me heal and grow. And each time when I make dumplings with my chosen family, I am even further grounded and empowered in my Chinese-American identity.

Written by Anika Becker and edited by  Jashan Sippy.

‘Food, the Feeling of Home’: A series of stories exploring nostalgia, the power of food, our memories and stories of ‘home’. Want to share your story? Send it to us at info@sugarandspace.in