I can vividly recall a fall day in 1992. My friend and classmate, Mia, was coming over for a playdate. Mia had a strong personality, but my five-year-old self was instantly drawn to her. There was something captivating about her confidence. I remember deliberately choosing to sit beside her during “reading time” in kindergarten, engaging in lighthearted chatter while pretending to read picture books about dogs and horses.
Later that day, after school, Mia was dropped off by her mother, who quickly ushered her to the door before leaving with her two younger sisters in their minivan. We raced to my room to grab Barbies and headed to the basement, where our dolls became the epitome of fashion with our endless outfit changes. After our Barbie adventures, hunger struck.
We dashed to the kitchen, where my mother usually prepared a snack tray for me and my friends. She typically laid out pre-packaged brownies or a bowl of saltines and pretzels, which we would devour in no time. However, that day was different. My mother hadn’t prepared any snacks. Lucky for us, I was adept at climbing onto the counter to search for a treat.
After discovering nothing appealing in the first cabinet, I moved to another. I carefully stood on the stovetop, avoiding the gas burners, and opened the top shelf. Finding nothing, I set down a medium-sized glass jar containing dried anchovies—an ingredient my mother often used in Korean dishes.
Mia’s reaction was immediate. “Ew! What is that?” she shrieked. I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me as I stammered, “Uh, minnows.” I didn’t even know they were called anchovies; my family had never discussed it. At that moment, I realized that having a jar of dried fish was something to be ashamed of, and I felt a deep sense of regret.
Mia stared at the jar, wrinkling her nose in distaste. But the incident quickly passed, and we soon found another snack and returned to playing. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment. My mom had dead fish in the cabinet, and now someone else knew.
The next day at school, I hoped the subject would never come up again. But during reading time, while Mia chatted with another girl in class, she shouted, “Jenny’s mom eats dead minnows!” My heart sank. I felt exposed and humiliated. My face flushed with shame as everyone around us reacted with a collective “ew!”
In that moment, I felt a surge of anger toward Mia for betraying my trust and for highlighting my family’s cultural differences. I was acutely aware that I didn’t fit the image of a typical American child. My appearance and background set me apart, and it was painful to confront that reality.
Reflecting on that experience, I don’t hold any resentment toward Mia or her family. I understand that, at five years old, our awareness of cultural differences was limited. Nevertheless, her reaction had a lasting impact on how I viewed my mother’s food.
Fortunately, times have changed. Yet, I still witness similar reactions today, often without any guidance from adults. This prompts me to ask: why aren’t we having more conversations with our children about the feelings associated with ethnic foods?
The experience with Mia has lingered in my mind, so much so that I’ve shared it with my own daughter. I explain to her that we should never criticize other people’s food choices. While it’s perfectly fine to decline trying something with a polite “no, thank you,” we must avoid derogatory remarks like “disgusting” or “gross.” Everyone has different tastes, and what may be delightful for one person could be unappealing to another.
Dining experiences vary greatly among individuals, and it’s essential to approach cultural food customs with mindfulness. A simple conversation about the cultural significance of certain foods can go a long way in fostering understanding and respect. This is particularly important when children are present, as they may already feel self-conscious about sharing their culinary traditions.
In the end, empathy and open dialogue can help bridge cultural divides and promote respect for diverse food practices. A little mindfulness, much like my experience with anchovies, can create a more inclusive environment for everyone.
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Summary:
Discussing respect for ethnic foods with your children is crucial for fostering understanding and acceptance of cultural diversity. Sharing personal experiences can help illustrate the importance of avoiding negative reactions to unfamiliar food. Engaging children in conversations about food traditions can promote empathy and inclusivity.