What objects tell the story of your life?

    When I was asked to name an object that told the story of my life, I really wasn’t sure of what to choose. There are many objects that I enjoy, but even at just seventeen, I felt like I had lived for too long to let a singular object identify me. That is, until I went home that day and made dinner: some steak, broccoli…and rice. I realized that through all the changes in my life, the only two things that have stayed constant are my family…and rice. 

    If you didn’t know, I was born in China and lived there until eight years old. Then, in the summer of 2014, I came to Champaign, Illinois. Having my life divided almost perfectly in half was a weird feeling growing up. I didn’t really experience the childhood of an American, so often when my friends speak nostalgically about the shows they used to watch, like Phineas and Ferb or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I just can’t relate because I grew up watching 喜羊羊与灰太狼 and 熊出没 (which apparently translates to Pleasant Sheep and Big Big Wolf and Boonie Bears). I also no longer relate to my friends back in China due to the rapidly changing Chinese pop culture. However, through all these differences, one thing allowed me to connect with all of them: food—and specifically—rice. Everyone loves food; there are tons of American restaurants in China and even more Chinese restaurants in the US, and guess what’s the one thing they have in common besides using a boatload of oil? That’s right: rice. From Jambalaya to sushi to the plain yet delicious steamed white rice, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like rice. So, over the years, rice has helped me maintain and create new friendships… okay, that might be a slight exaggeration. Speaking of…rice, it really helps me connect to my roots. I started cooking as a hobby after coming to the US, and because I mostly use YouTube as my inspiration…and YouTube is banned in the great P.R of C (People’s Republic of China? It’s a play on U.S of A?), my culinary style is heavily influenced by Western cuisines. Besides the commonly found meat and vegetables, the only thing I can make is a delectable batch of steamed rice…because it only involves me adding rice and water to the rice cooker. 

    Alright, now it's time to get deep. I feel like rice really represents me; when I’m new and not used to some place or someone, I tend to act cold and have a hard shell (I hope you see where I’m going with this). However, when I am “warmed up,” I become much softer and steaming with…wait, that idiom doesn’t work, but you get the point. As a piece of rice, I also really bond with my environment; like a ball of rice in soy sauce, I have a tendency to be heavily influenced by my environment.

    Rice is great: it is universally present in foods of all (most) countries, you can manipulate it into having any flavor or texture, and it is one of the most produced crops in the world. I don’t just believe rice describes me; I also think we can all learn from rice as a society. Rice does nothing as a singular grain, but together with other rice, good surroundings (sauce), and some time for warming up, it could become one of the greatest things of mankind. Alright, I’m getting hungry…wonder what I should eat?