Connecting In Connecticut

Heat. Warmth. The sun. Things I have never – at least, not that I remember – experienced up north in Connecticut. Visits to my cousin's house were always associated with memories and feelings of cold, snow, and good food. Of course, there was always warmth. Warmth that came not only from wonderful food and fierce fires, but also from family. This year, the heat was a bit hotter. I suppose this could be summed up in what my Aunt Agnes said best: the Cheng family is like hot sauce.

But what kind of hot sauce? Certainly not Tabasco: it’s flavorless, and believe me when I say that the Cheng family has plenty of flavor. Certainly not a ghost pepper blend, either: that’s too violent and unforgiving. To me, the family is Frank’s Red Hot: I say this not only because I’m a huge fan of Buffalo wings and the appropriate sauce, but also because it’s bold, it’s sweet, and it’s got a fantastic balance of spiciness and flavor.

That’s what the Cheng family is: bold and sweet. Spicy and flavorful. Disciplinary, tough, and demanding. Loving. A lot of small things in one great thing.

Despite the remarkable differences the Cheng family holds – their age difference, their professions, their beliefs – they still share more similarities than I expected. It’s like how many different ingredients come together to create a cohesive and delicious dish: savory and sweet, acidic and creamy, spicy and sour; radically unique as individual pieces but a masterpiece of flavors when together.

At its very core, it seems the elder members of my family all share the same ambitions and hopes. They want the younger generations – myself, my brother, my cousins – to be successful. They want us to be happy. They want us to represent our name well.

When I was young, I was indifferent about my family name. I thought it was just a name, that it was defined as a surname and that it never defined anything else. In fact, I remember having some thoughts of changing my last name to something cooler, like Springsteen or Bon Jovi. Everyone would spell it incorrectly, too: C-H-A-N-G. I’ve corrected so many people so many times that it’s become habit for me to repeat “Cheng. C-H-E-N-G” to anyone asking for my last name.

But recently, I’ve taken pride in that name. When I went to Coe College, looking forward to my next four years of study and the world beyond, I knew that I had a chance to make my mark, to make my name stand out in both the family tree and in the bigger world. But it didn’t have to be as a CEO or as a doctor or as an engineer: it just had to be who I was and what I wanted to do.

I knew that I could carve my own path, add on a different trade/discipline/profession to the ever-growing list of what my family does and can do. They are creatives. They are professors. They are parents. They are kids. They are growing. They are learning.

They are my family. There’s really nothing more to that. I respect them, I admire them, I love them – and I know they feel the same way for me and for everyone else.

As I grew older and was able to reflect on how I was raised and how I grew up, I came to this realization. I was raised a certain way and have grown into a certain person. This past reunion helped me see that. I heard stories of how my aunts and uncles were raised and how that made them who they are today, how their mother and father disciplined and cared for them. But I also saw that in my cousins, my brother, and myself.

I see how Arthur has become this technician of his own future, operating a business that he’s grown a passion for. I see how I have become a "balancer" of multiple pursuits: music, creative writing, swimming, and academics.

How the Cheng family was raised molded them into the aunts, uncles, and cousins I know and love to know. How I was raised has molded me into a driven individual, eager to find out more about my own life and my own future, eager to discover more through writing and music and expression.