Untitled Storyboard

Slide: 1
On Christmas Eve I saw that my mother had outdone herself in creating a strange menu. She waspulling black veins out of the backs of fleshy prawns. The kitchen was littered with appalling mounds ofraw food: A slimy rock cod with bulging eyes that pleaded not to be thrown into a pan of hot oil. Tofu,which looked like stacked wedges of rubbery white sponges. A bowl soaking dried fungus back to life.A plate of squid, their backs crisscrossed with knife markings so they resembled bicycle tires.
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My relatives licked the ends of their chopsticks and reached across the table, dipping them into the dozen or so plates of food. Robert and his family waited patiently for platters to be passed to them. My relatives murmured with pleasure when my mother brought out the whole steamed fish.
Slide: 3
After everyone had gone, my mother said to me, "You want to be the same as American girls onthe outside." She handed me an early gift. It was a miniskirt in beige tweed. "But inside you mustalways be Chinese. You must be proud you are different. Your only shame is to have shame." And even though I didn't agree with her then, I knew that she understood how much I had sufferedduring the evening's dinner.

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