A write-up of my first Toastmasters speech, to be presented tonight:
Often when people meet me for the first time their initial
impression or expression is, “What are
you?” which I love. I know what they mean, but it’s as if I’m some sort of new
species of human, some exotic animal, or perhaps an extraterrestrial. That’s a
fun thought. I know what they mean, though. “Are you Hawaiian? Native? Oh, I
know! You’re Filipino!” No, no, and no. I’m actually half Korean, but I think
that a person’s first impression of me is indicative of their experience of me
overall. Growing up, I found that people had a difficult time understanding me.
This is a common experience for the children of alcoholic parents. This is also
a common experience for the children of immigrant parents. For the former, what
you have to understand about ACoA, or the adult children of alcoholics, is that
they grow up with lies as a part of their culture. I would often lie about things
that didn’t matter and I didn’t feel like this was morally wrong. After all, it
didn’t seem to be hurting anyone except me when the people I cared about
learned that I’d been lying to their face for no discernible reason. This
problem was compounded by being the child of an immigrant. My mother had all
sorts of traditions and ideas about child-rearing that seemed strange or even
wrong to my white peers. No one ever knew what to make of me. Was I happy with
my life? Was there too much pressure on me? Was I somehow abused because of my
mother’s strict standards? Well, as it turns out, I was abused but not because
of my mother’s cultural background. Instead, it was more likely her mental
health and substance abuse that played a part in that. This also plays a part
in a person’s misunderstanding of me. Sometimes I can be very standoffish and I
might even isolate myself at times. I’ve come to understand this as a natural
reaction and maladaptive habit from growing up in a physically abusive
household. As an adult who has processed through this painful experience, I
often come off as stern, powerful, and even severe. You see, it’s not uncommon
for children who grow up in abusive household to use anger as a tool to obtain
power as they have seen that at work firsthand. For instance, you might see
such a child become a bully because they mimic this powerful use of anger that
was modeled for them. Luckily, I didn’t have such a reaction; quite the
opposite, in fact. From a young age, I found myself standing up for the bullied
and oppressed. My painful experiences made me especially sensitive and
empathetic to the suffering of those around me. While this often led to
intensified chaos as a loved one’s instability added to my own, eventually this
also led to my career. I am a marriage and family therapist and while there are
a lot of big and small things that led me to this path, I think that my
identity and the way it was shaped play a major role in my life’s work. I
currently work with substance dependent clients, an often maligned and
misunderstood group. I was surprised by how much I could relate to their
experiences. You see, I am fortunate to have been born without the brain chemistry
that would pre-dispose me to addiction. In addition, the chronic, inescapable
stress and the alcoholic environment of my upbringing were not enough to force
such a brain chemistry problem and that was due in part to those who loved and
protected me whether or not they could truly understand me. Unconditional love
is something I have been seeking my entire life: in my mother, in God, and in
relationships both platonic and romantic. You see, it shouldn’t matter what I
am or what you are. It can be a tantalizing mystery, to be sure, but the first
question I wish people would ask me is not, “What are you?” but “How can I love
you?” I wish more people would ask that question when meeting new people in
general. Working in my field, I’ve found that there are stories behind every
behavior you come across; stories you can’t even imagine. My story begins with
the meaning of my name. Amanda has its roots in Latin. “Ama” means “love” and
so “Amanda” means “loveable” or “worthy of love.” For so long I thought that
who I was made me difficult to love, and so the meaning of my name seemed like
a cruel joke. This is not so. I am a complex human being, just like you, and
just like us all. “What are you?” I
am Amanda. Get to know me for a little while, and discover how you can love me.
