Intercultural Conversations: How Chinese is ‘Chinese Enough’?
“So, ilang percent Chinese ka?” (or roughly translated, “So, how many percent Chinese are you?”)
It’s a question I’ve been asked more times than I can count. Sometimes I’ve asked it, too—during small talk with fellow Chinoys (a colloquial term for Chinese-Filipino individuals), at reunions, or in awkward icebreakers. It’s often harmless, said with friendly curiosity. But even in its lightness, the question hints that to an extent, it matters to some. That your “percent” says something about who you are, where you live, and how much you belong.
And while we’ve come a long way as a community in expanding how we understand what it means to be Chinese-Filipino, there are still moments that make me question my Chinese-ness, if that’s even a word.
It shows up in the little things. The way elders chuckle when I mispronounce a Chinese word. How unfamiliarity with a specific tradition draws a subtle remark: bue hiao lo la — “she doesn’t know anymore.” There’s a kind of look that passes between the older generation when I say I don’t like a particular traditional dish or when I mix English with my Hokkien. It’s not disapproval, exactly. It’s more like resignation: “ah, the younger ones.”
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But on the flip side, I’m not exactly “Filipino enough” either.
“Every Chinese New Year, I still get Tikoy requests even if we’re not Eng Bee Tin (a well-known Chinese deli in the Philippines that sells sticky rice cakes called Tikoy — from the Hokkien ti̍k-ké, a local rendering of tiángāo 甜糕, meaning “sweet cake,” also known more formally as niángāo 年糕, the traditional New Year rice cake). I still struggle with deep Tagalog idioms. Sometimes, people do a double-take when trying to place their features: almond-shaped eyes, morena skin — not quite mestiza, not quite chinita. It’s a quiet reminder that I’ve always lived between lines others expect me to fit into.”
Credits to Sskait on Facebook
I’m not saying it’s discrimination; especially not in a world that’s becoming more open, more fluent in the language of multicultural identity. But there are distinctions—in the raised eyebrows over a mispronounced word, the quiet surprise when your taste or accent doesn’t line up with expectation, the casual remarks that hint at where others think you should belong. Not necessarily barriers, but markers: reminders that you move through spaces a little differently.
And maybe that’s just it. For many of us with mixed or diasporic heritage, being Chinese—Chinese-Filipino, Chinese-Malaysian, Chinese-Thai, or just Huárén 华人 (a broad term that refers to people of Chinese descent, especially outside Mainland China) — often means living in-between. We inherit languages in fragments. We straddle cultures that sometimes contradict. And still, we carry them both.
Finding Connection Through Chinese Ancestry Research
I once came across a story in Chinese Ancestry Research, a growing initiative led by genealogist Nathan Co. He started the project while tracing his own roots in honor of his late father, and it has since evolved into a rich digital archive reconnecting Huáréns 华人 with their ancestral past.
One member’s story stood out to me. An artist based overseas, she had grown up with little knowledge of her Chinese grandfather—no photos, no stories, no language passed down. Strangers would often ask her, “But where are you really from?” and like many intercultural kids, she had nearly accepted that the gaps in her history might never be filled.
But through the project’s research, she discovered names, villages, and a lineage that had once felt unreachable. Her family tree unfolded in Chinese characters she couldn’t read but had always longed to understand. It wasn’t just about genealogy. It was about reclaiming a story that had almost slipped through her fingers.
And it made me wonder—maybe I could do something, too. Maybe the line isn’t broken. Maybe I just haven’t looked yet.
That story struck a chord. Because for those of us who don’t speak fluent Mandarin or any Chinese dialect, who stumble through customs or mix up temple etiquette, it captured a feeling that’s often hard to name: the subtle guilt of not knowing enough, and the quiet hope that we still belong anyway. This journey affirms what many of us already feel: that identity isn’t defined by perfection. It’s shaped by memory, effort, and the desire to stay connected, even when the threads feel faint.
One line from Nathan’s message to the artist has stayed with me:
“You are now part of something that transcends geography and time… You are a bridge between your ancestors and future generations, a living thread in the tapestry of one of the world’s oldest lineages.”
This has reminded me that our identity is also something we inherit, and slowly, lovingly, grow into. Even if we don’t master the culture in full, there’s always that familiarity – like a song whose title you’ve forgotten but whose melody you know by heart.
Intercultural Kid: Finding Myself Between Generations
I felt this in a new way when I recently visited Fujian, China—the province where my father and grandparents were born. In the Philippines, I’m always labeled as Chinese. But there, even with the warmest welcome and family ties, I still felt like an outsider. My Hokkien was Filipinized, my tongue slow to catch up. They were amused, maybe even charmed, but the gap was real.
And yet, that trip was one of the most meaningful experiences I’ve ever had. Walking the same streets my father once did, seeing where my grandparents lived and played, eating dishes they once knew by heart — something clicked into place.
Even if I’ll never speak the language fluently or blend in completely, I know now that I carry this legacy. Not borrowed. Not half-inherited.
Mine.
This is what makes me who I am today. And for that, I hold deep appreciation for my parents—for the culture they passed down, for the parts they safeguarded, for the identity they helped shape even when they didn’t have all the pieces themselves.
In that spirit, Nathan also kindly shared with me an article from the ancestry group about my own lineage, beautifully detailing traces from generations past.
Reading it felt surreal. While my personal knowledge of our family history doesn’t reach beyond my grandparents and the communities they knew, seeing my ancestors honored in that way stirred something deep within me.
It reminded me that even if their lives feel distant, they are still part of me—carried in my name, my habits, my history.
And for that, I carry a quiet pride. I’m grateful to come from an illustrious line I’m only beginning to understand but already proud to belong to.
Credits to Chinese Ancestry Research on Facebook
Credits to Chinese Ancestry Research on Facebook
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The Final Verdict: Yes, You Are “Chinese Enough”
So, maybe we’ve been asking the wrong question all along.
Because being Chinese isn’t about how much DNA you carry, how fluent your Mandarin or Hokkien is, or whether you can recite every festival custom by heart. It’s not about percentages. It’s not about perfection. You’re Chinese enough the moment you care enough to ask.
And you start becoming more Chinese the moment you decide to take action: to reclaim your heritage even in small, personal ways.
Maybe it’s listening more closely the next time your aunt tells a half-forgotten family tale.
Maybe it’s visiting the Chinese cemetery with your family so visit old kin and lighting incense—not as a religious ritual, but as a quiet sign of respect.
Maybe it’s simply pausing to let an elder speak first, or using both hands when receiving something, like how we’re taught.
You’re not “faking” anything. You’re continuing something.
Because being Huárén 华人 has never been about meeting some cultural checklist. It’s about memory, reverence, and continuity. It’s not about where you stand on a spectrum. It’s about whether you’re willing to walk the path back — to remember, and to carry forward.
If the answer is yes, then you’re already on the journey.
And that means, truly and fully, You are Chinese enough.
References:
- Co, N. (2024, November 14). Chapter 3: Who Am I? Am I Chinese?. Chinese Ancestry Research. https://web.facebook.com/groups/chineseancestryresearch/permalink/1770604993722978/
- Chinese Ancestry Research Facebook Group: https://web.facebook.com/groups/chineseancestryresearch
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