Let me preface this by saying that I don’t hold the lack of hugs against my parents at all. I know my mom and dad loved both me and my brother very much, even if they weren’t very physically affectionate toward either of us. Or toward each other, for that matter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my parents hug. The first time I remember seeing my parents kiss was at my wedding. And that was only after they were goaded into it with a chorus of clinking glasses.
Asian Culture and Displays of Affection
This is purely anecdotal on my part, but I do have some (not very scientific) data to back this up. I’ll get to that in a moment. Based on my own experience and what I saw with my friends and their parents, Asian parents just don’t hug their children. Or rather, our Asian parents didn’t hug their children. Is this an extension of Asian stoicism? Maybe. Public displays of affection (PDAs) are implicitly discouraged. I grew up with the sense that PDAs showed a lack of care or decorum.
But, the more I think about it, this applied to our private lives too. To this day, nearly four decades later (I’m getting old), I still can’t hug my mom without it feeling super awkward. The only time I ever hug my mom is for performative purposes. It’s only when my daughter goads us into it. And that really makes me think, because I am very physically affectionate with both my children.
School Dropoff and Pickup
I greatly value and cherish hugs with my children. It became our routine during preschool dropoff. Before I’d leave, we’d always share a hug and a kiss. When it came time to kindergarten, we kept that up for a while. Some days, we’d share an “air high-five” if she was already actively engaged in some activity. To be fair, I’m much more “Canadian” or “western” than my parents were. Is it a cultural thing or a generational thing?
This comic posted by Ruth Chan (@ohtruth on Instagram) really illustrates this point. Indeed, it served as the inspiration for this blog post. Click on those faint arrows to read all the panels. I promise it’s worth the few seconds of your time. These days, when I go to pick up my daughter from school, she’ll run toward me for a hug and I’ll happily oblige.
The Culture of the Hug
So, I really started to think. If my Asian parents didn’t hug me, but I hug my children… do other Asian parents today have the same experience? What about my non-Asian friends? I asked these questions via Instagram stories, curious if I’d see a difference between cultural groups.
There is an obvious self-selection bias at play, of course. Most of my Instagram followers live in Canada and the United States. So, the “Asians” in this poll are mostly Asian-Canadian and Asian-American, most of whom have lived here for decades. Also, most of the parents who follow me are likely more engaged and involved with their kids than the average. Even so, I think the results are quite telling. Some key observations:
- Nearly all respondents, regardless of ethnicity or cultural identity, hug their own children. It’s pretty universal across culture, geography, age and gender.
- About half of respondents said their parents hugged them as children. This means that even if we weren’t hugged as kids, we still hug our kids.
- Of the people who said their parents hugged them, only one is Asian (as far as I can tell). This supports my hypothesis that Asian parents (at least of the previous generation) didn’t hug their kids.
- Of the people who said their parents didn’t hug them, I saw a mix of cultural backgrounds. But, as mentioned, all but one of the Asian respondents said their parents didn’t hug them as children.
So, as best as I can surmise, the whole “hug your kids” situation is both a cultural phenomenon and a generational one. But why?
What Changed? What’s Different Now?
We’ve got all sorts of interrelated theories here. When I followed up on Instagram, some people said that they “didn’t want to be like my parents. I wanted to express my love for kids.” A fellow dad said, “Kids that were hugged liked it [and] kids that were not hugged didn’t like it,” so they hug their own children more. For those of us who weren’t hugged enough, “we go above and beyond to hug ours.”
As mentioned, there appears to be both a generational and a cultural shift. For Canadian-born Chinese (CBC) and American-born Chinese (CBC), for example, our personal experiences and specific culture are different from those who grow up in Asia (like our parents). As we integrate some aspects of “western” culture, this lends itself to shifting away from traditional Asian stoicism, if only a little.
Generationally, across all cultural groups, we’re seeing a culture that is “more open to feelings and less stigma.” Dads today can participate in baby story time and hug their kids much more openly than parents of the previous generation may have. As one comment puts it, we have a “better understanding of love and affection. [It] has become more acceptable in society.”
Normalizing the Familial Hug
For some of you reading this, hugging between family members is already totally normalized. It’s already a part of the good old days and simpler times. I get that. For my family, it really hasn’t been. To the best of my recollection, I don’t think I’ve ever hugged my brother. Like ever. Or any of my cousins or aunts or uncles. If I have, I don’t remember it. The hug is impossibly rare in my family… except when it comes to my kids.
Not everyone is comfortable with hugs. I also get that. Whether it’s between family, friends, colleagues or whoever. No one should ever feel obligated to hug anyone. If little Marie doesn’t want to hug her Aunt Bernice, she doesn’t have to. But for me, for my part, I’ll continue to cherish the hugs I share with my son and daughter.
Great post and very interesting!