East West Magazine

First Connect: They lived across the street from each other and met through a mutual friend. Andrew remembers thinking Seng had nice legs; Seng remembers Andrew being attentive.

Showing the Love: Seng says, “The way we say ‘I love you’ is expressing it every day. Showing compassion, consideration and commitment to each other and family.”

Seng and Andrew have always called the Midwest home. Seng grew up in Des Moines, Iowa, and Andrew was raised in Pewaukee, a suburb of Milwaukee. He compares his childhood to Leave It to Beaver: “Traditional Midwestern American family — Mom was at home, Dad worked, with two boys. We played ball in the yard and went swimming at the lake.” Seng recalls a fun childhood as well, but notes, “The traditional stereotype of Asian Americans was definitely true in my family: we were raised to be academically oriented, and there were strict rules about social activities.”

The two met in college, when Andrew was a junior and Seng was a freshman. “I knew we were in love when I wanted to spend time with her instead of anyone else, even my friends,” says Andrew. “It seemed like time would fly when we were together.” Seng sums up her feelings: “I felt comfortable. It was just so easy to be together from the very beginning.”

Their son, Zach, hears “I love you” from them several times a day. “It’s so much easier to say it to your child,” Seng explains. Andrew remembers his parents using the expression regularly. “They set an example for us boys,” he says.

Andrew believes he says “I love you” more than Seng, and he reminds her when they fight, “Don’t forget I love you. I’m trying.” She says she doesn’t feel the need to hear the words, as long as he treats her with respect.

Because outpourings of emotion feel unfamiliar to Seng, they’re memorable when they do happen. On her wedding day, her mother cried through the ceremony and most of the night. “I remember just feeling the love from her,” Seng says. “She actually didn’t say much. It was the look, the smile. Trying to hold back the tears.” And her mother has grown more expressive since becoming a grandmother. To Zach, Seng notices that “she’s said ‘I love you’ a whole lot. And that’s something that’s really new to me.”

The blending of this couple’s cultures isn’t seamless, and Seng admits that, on occasion, “We would sacrifice honesty for harmony. Sometimes we would hold our true emotions in for the sake of being nice.” She says they’re working on confronting problems more directly.

But overall, the couple is happy prioritizing their relationship and home life. Seng says, “Our marriage is like my parents’ in that we are very devoted to the children and the family unit. For our relationship, like my parents’, true love is about making the family unit successful and being there for each other.”

KEEPING THE FAITH: Young and Suzelle

Young, 46 & Suzelle, 49

First Connect: They met in Santa Cruz at a young adult meeting for Unitarians. When the group went to the beach afterwards, Young made sure Suzelle got a ride in his car.

Showing the Love: Young once gave Suzelle a waffle iron as a gift. Suzelle says, “I make waffles every morning for Grace. Waffles are a symbol of love in our family.”

A passion for community work brought Young and Suzelle together. Suzelle says, “He charmed me with stories of his volunteer work.” And Young still has old phone bills — reminders of marathon phone conversations from the early days of their relationship.

Young was born in Tuscaloosa, Ala., and raised in the South. He and his younger sister “lived with our feet in both worlds.” He remembers not wanting his American friends to come over if the family was eating Korean food. Yet his parents also focused on assimilation, so Young joined the YMCA and Boy Scouts.

Fitting in was also an issue for Suzelle. She describes her family as “flaming liberals, very involved in the community.” As Unitarian Universalists in Saginaw, Mich., “We were different — religious minorities. There was this constant sense of, ‘There’s nobody like us.’” Her parents weren’t disciplinarians with the four children. “My mother believed if she explained things to us, we would understand better and then we’d behave better.” Suzelle remembers her parents telling stories, giving hugs and tucking them in at night.

Young’s parents ruled with silence. “All they had to do was look at us, and we’d stop what we were doing. In a lot of the Asian American families I know, what doesn’t get said is as important as what gets said.” He adds, “There’s this nonverbal common understanding of where the lines are, and you don’t cross them.” However, Young says that his parents, especially his mother, were affectionate, hugging and saying, “I love you.” He sees this as unusual for Korean culture, especially since his grandmother was not affectionate with his mother.

Early in their relationship, Young and Suzelle paused during a romantic hike and tied two of their hairs together. “It meant that we were going to grow old together,” Young says. “Somewhere in California, there are two strands of gray hair, two strands of DNA tied together.”

Suzelle thinks their relationship works because of “the kind of people we are.” She explains, “His world was not my world — but I was willing to be changed by it.” One of their biggest challenges is finding time to spend together. As a minister, Suzelle often has meetings at night. By day, Young is the executive director of a nonprofit organization.

Suzelle says they approach problems differently because she’s an extrovert and he’s an introvert. Even though they have different communication styles, she says, “We say ‘I love you’ a lot around this house.”

CULTURE CLUB: Lydia and Rohan

Lydia, 29 & Rohan, 30

First Connect: They became friends through classes they took as undergrads at Cal Poly. Rohan always liked Lydia, but she insisted she wouldn’t date a classmate. They graduated in 2001 and started dating in 2003 

Showing the Love: When Lydia was a child, her father called her bao bei, a Mandarin term meaning “precious.” Rohan says, “Now she’s my bao bei."

As a Chinese and Indian couple, Lydia and Rohan have weathered many challenges in their interracial relationship.

Lydia grew up in Southern California’s San Gabriel Valley and remembers childhood as chaotic, fun and loud. During grade school, she stayed with her aunt and uncle while her parents worked as the owners of a Chinese newspaper. Her older sister and brother were already in college.

Lydia would say “I love you” or give her mother a kiss or brief hug when saying goodbye. Her parents were less expressive. “Like a lot of Asian families, there was not a whole lot of hugging and that kind of stuff going on,” she says.

Rohan, whose parents came from India, raised him and his younger brother in Claremont in Southern California. He recalls being close to his mother as a child: “I was standing in a drawer, playing with pots and pans, and she was cooking. I remember her asking for something and I gave it to her. And she said, ‘Oh, thank you, I love you so much.’” His father didn’t often say “I love you” — but says it more now that Rohan is an adult.

Lydia and Rohan were college friends and started dating after they graduated. She was impressed that he made an effort to get to know her friends and family. Her parents were open-minded about interracial relationships — her aunt had married a Swedish man and her sister’s husband was black and French.

Rohan’s parents, however, wanted him to marry an Indian woman. They declined a dinner invitation from Lydia’s parents and refused to visit the couple’s new home. Lydia says, “Not only did I have a tough time with the fact that they didn’t want to get to know me, but also with how they treated him because he was dating me.”

Rohan issued an ultimatum to his parents. “The choice was ‘out of my life’ or ‘in our lives.’ They’ve come around, but they didn’t have a choice,” he says. Since the couple has gotten married, the tension with Rohan’s parents has eased a bit. “They’re getting less worried about the proprieties or what other Indian families will think,” Lydia adds.

Lydia feels that she and Rohan have faced more challenges than most newlyweds. In the past six years, her grandmother, father and 36-year-old sister have died. “I realized that we have a very finite time together and we’re lucky to have what we have,” she says.

As such, they make a point of saying “I love you” every day — even if that means Lydia has to interrupt Rohan in the shower. Rohan says it, too, running to her car or with a kiss while they do yard work. They also hide letters and notes for each other. This is a different relationship than the one Lydia’s parents had: “When my mom had cancer in 1992, my dad told me he prayed and prayed for Mom to get better, that he loved her so much, and that he didn’t know what he would do without her. I’m not sure he ever told her.”

FAMILY STYLE: Diane and Todd

Diane, 36 & Todd, 34

First Connect: They met in the Southern California coffeehouse where he worked. He offered her free butter rum syrup in her iced blended mocha, and they’ve been talking ever since. 

Showing the Love: Diane says, “‘I love you’ is not verbal or physical. There are just everyday things such as being patient with each other and helping each other become better people.”

 Diane and Todd, “family style” isn’t just a way of eating; it’s a feeling that pervades everything they do.

Diane jokingly describes herself and Todd as opposites — “redneck and rice paddy.” While Todd grew up training horses with his father and older sister on a cattle ranch in northeastern Oregon, Diane lived with her five younger siblings and their parents in urban environments — first Reno, Nev., then in Little Saigon, a Vietnamese enclave in Orange County, Calif.

Diane grew up admiring The Brady Bunch. “Here’s a family with six kids, and the parents were always so affectionate. Everything was just so perfect,” Diane says. Still, she didn’t resent how her family differed from this perfect TV world. “For us — Vietnamese culture — I think discipline is priority.” Her parents expressed love by telling her when she was in the wrong. “Some people in American society will see that as punishment or abuse,” she acknowledges. “But I think that discipline and correction are a form of affection. You’re correcting because you love me.”

Todd says his mother was always affectionate, but his father was less so. “The rancher mentality tends to be fairly stoic, at least from the male perspective.” He doesn’t recall a lot of physical affection from his father, but adds, “Now, it’s hugs and saying I love you, we’re not hesitant at all anymore.”

In their own relationship, “I love you” has a more prominent place than what they experienced growing up. Todd says, “Still, after 13 years, we’ll say it to each other every night before we go to bed.” Diane agrees that the words are powerful: “When I say it, I know I’m saying it. It’s deliberate: I do. I love you.”

When Diane and Todd met, they built their relationship on conversation and shared interests like camping, backpacking and food. Diane explains, “The sexual part, the whole romance comes later. I think the core is wanting to understand people and everything around us.” Todd adds, “We’ll always intentionally make the point of having moments of discovery. Exploring.”

Self-taught food writers and photographers, the couple often hosts parties. One of their favorite meals is banh xeo, a Vietnamese dish of crispy crepes with meat and vegetables from their garden. Todd says, “You can do that with a group of people who have never sat down together. By the time the meal is done, there’s a bond between them.” Diane grew up cooking to feed a family. “I loved it — just throwing food on the table, being comfortable and reaching for something that somebody else reached for,” she says.

For Diane, respect for family is paramount. “I could not have my mate sit at a table and not want to eat the rice or the soup because that would feel isolating to me.” Her family has always welcomed Todd. Diane’s mother keeps telling them to have a baby — no need to get married. She buys baby socks and says, “Look, Todd, I save for you.”

Their next adventure: leading a culinary tour of Vietnam and a cooking school for chefs and food professionals. “We’re integrating the local people with the tourists,” Diane says. “Because that’s our thing — bringing people together.”

 

*Photos by Yukie Fujimoto (Los Angeles) and William Zuback (Milwaukee)