Friendship Reflection

I was born and raised in Shanghai (1967), during the Cultural Revolution. As a child, I didn’t have the chance to go to preschool or kindergarten. My parents would have wished for me to go, had they been able to send me. But when I applied, local kindergarten classes were full. And our family was not so unique. I didn’t have my own friend until I attended elementary school, at age 7.

It was then that I discovered my very own best friend. To this day, we are still best friends. Her name is Lin Yuan, the youngest of three girls. I was the youngest in my family, too, with an older sister. Lin lived in a housing high rise next to ours. From our balcony, I could see her window. I often called out to her and asked if she could come out to play. Each day she and I would walk to
school together. At noon we returned home for lunch, and after would walk back to school
together for afternoon session. In class, we sat apart, but at recess we would play together. Our favorite game was jumping rubber bands. We’d tie together hundreds of rubber bands to make [ultimately] a long loop. Each kid on opposite sides would tie the rubber bands around their ankles. First level: One kid would jump on the rubber band, needing to do certain steps without any mistakes. Next, the rubber bands were raised to knee-level…and after that, up to waist-level, then…to neck-level. Any mistakes meant you were relegated to holding rubber bands. We also enjoyed kicking the “jian zi.” After school twice a week we attended group studies--basically, study hall where we’d do homework together. As we grew older, we’d share dictation of Chinese and English words. We did math facts, too.

Since our parents worked weekends [at a war time pace], Lin and I lived in a de facto extended family, and so we played every weekend. We played doll house. We pretended to be father and mother and took care of a doll baby. We carved images from papers together. As we grew older, we taught each other to knit. In a sense, we became real sisters, largely to compensate for the absence of our working parents. At six years old, I was chunky and not good at P.E. class. Boys in class made fun and called me names. I hated it. Lin would defend and comfort me. In order to move on to junior school we had to pass P.E. class. At age 9 in fourth grade, I had to climb to the top of a bamboo pole, one story high. Lin helped me practice again and again, showing me the key skills. (Lin was skinny and good at P.E. She devoted time for me, which to this day I still value and appreciate. All in all, my hands became calloused. But my character became stronger, in large part thanks to my friend.)

My self-esteem was low in elementary school. I didn’t do well in P.E. classes compared to others. I was also often reminded how smart my older sister was always at the top of her class. She played violin well. Compared to her, I often felt not so good. But, Lin, my friend, never looked down on me. Academically, my skills were better, and whenever she needed help with math or English, I helped her. It was fun for us to help each other. From first to fifth grade, we were in the same class--each day 40 minutes walking to and from school. We LOVED buying (and sharing) snacks at the small grocery store along the way. In spring, when it was hot, we liked pops and cool treats. Now and then on weekends, we went to movies together.

At 12 years old, we ultimately diverged to different middle schools, as determined by the disparate directions of our elder siblings. Ultimately, factors of logistics [and practical
convenience] separated us, just as we entered puberty. Still, we managed to stay in touch on weekends, and during the week when needed to discuss homework difficulties. In junior school, my self-esteem changed. For three years I had the highest grades in my class. At the same time, Lin was still in mid level for her class. I was smart, she was not quite as. She was athletic and good looking, I felt average. Yet I still didn’t believe I was smart. Somehow, I was filled with doubt, and Lin with her athleticism and physical appearance seemed so far above. I idolized her, she idolized me. Our friendship amounted to something like the Odd Couple. I would hear compliments from my aunt and parents. Lin, too, would compliment me.

Upon reaching high school, Lin and her family moved to another district. We saw each other less and less. She told me of dating and sex with a boy friend. She was starting very young. I worried about her. I was afraid she’d become pregnant. As we’ve gotten older, we still talk a lot by phone. We talk about boy friend/girl friend things, about work, kids, family. We both dreamt of escaping China, to overseas. We dated U.S. citizens. I’m in America now, she’s still in China. We discuss family issues, and how best to raise our kids…how best to cope with daily life. Through her life I see myself; through me she sees her own life. From our friendship I sense companion-ship. From so much time together in our childhood, I see physical and ego support. Should I need help or advice, she’s there. Should she need my help I am there to help and support her. I feel good and useful that I can help her. It enhances my sense of self worth and value. I see the social comparative value. We’re all human. We all struggle in our own lives at different stages. Each time after I talk to her I feel less stressful. Basically, I feel a common, shared humanity with her. Of course from our long relationship, I sense certain intimacy and affections. We are open to each other. We share our secrets. In many ways she knows me more, or at least differently, than my parents do. I am fortunate to have a friend like Lin. As time goes by, we resemble the shadows of a single object.

--January 2009 (For Prof. McKeithan's Class at De Anza College)