“Be yourself”.

This phrase containing just two words is uttered by almost every single person in
the world at one point or another. I know it sounds so typical, mundane even. Yet, there is no
denying that there is truth behind those words. I believe that being yourself means accepting
yourself. We are our own worst critics. We let our self-image be a driving factor in important
decisions and also relationships. But the perception of ourselves is not nearly the same as how
others view us. I really believe that beauty, whatever that means, is in the eye of the beholder.
It’s subjective. If I’m being honest though, it’s still not something that I’ve come to terms with.

My name is Tenzin Chime and I am a Tibetan-American. The struggle with my identity is a

constant battle. One day I don’t feel Tibetan enough and another day I don’t feel American
enough. Although I identify as both, finding the balance of belonging on both sides is tough.

Growing up, I never questioned whether or not I was actually American because I knew I was.
It’s the only home I’ve ever known. I also never felt the need to prove my identity. Maybe it was
because I was too young to understand at that time but I feel like it was in part due to being
raised in Astoria. I’m grateful to have called Astoria my home for 18 years because the
environment is unmatched. On one block alone, you could find such a range of diversity. Being
surrounded by people from all kinds of backgrounds was incredibly rewarding because you knew
that each person, like you, was dealing with something behind closed doors. It made you feel like
everyone was connected in some way despite being completely different people. I believe that
your identity is not what makes you up physically but what shapes you from your experiences
and interactions.

[Tibetan music starts, vinyl record scratch, american music]

During my pre-teen years, I was pretty disconnected with my Tibetan side. On holidays, we
would wear our traditional clothing and go to gatherings. [Train sounds] That meant taking the
train there and I hated wearing my traditional clothing especially on the train because I was
really embarrassed. So much so that I would wear jeans underneath, fold the clothing up, and
then let it down when we got there. I remember my mom shaking her head disapprovingly. “Why
is it embarrassing?” she would ask. My answer to her would always be the same, “Because
people will look at us.” I believe that what people think of you should not hinder who you are.
Looking back now, I feel regretful for what I did.

My teenage years were better… or so I thought. My sisters and I stopped wearing our traditional
clothing to events so my slight resentment of Tibetan side eventually subsided. But when that
problem went away, another one appeared.

“When you’re home, please at least speak Tibetan” my dad used to plead. I wasn’t doing it
intentionally. It just felt innate. Having been used to speaking English everywhere, I also took
that home. It should have been the one place where I spoke Tibetan but the more English I spoke,
the less Tibetan I could remember. I struggled with this for a while, feeling guilty about not
speaking my native language which was disappearing right before my eyes. It was only when I
began reminding myself to speak Tibetan that my dad’s pleads started to diminish.

Fast forward to me now, being in my early 20s, I feel content with who I am. I know I am not
forced to choose a side nor do I have to cater to either one of them. But most of all, I know that
who I am is only determined by me and no one else. This is not to say that I now know who I am
or that this is the end of my struggle. It is to acknowledge the obstacles that have been in my way
for so long. Who knows? There could be more but I will realize them when the time comes and
on my own.