The Shame Derived From Shame

Shame is felt by each and ever member of society: recluse, immigrant, socialite, etc. the list is as endless as my voracious appetite. It is an unpleasant emotion, to be sure, with its rouge cheeks and downcast eyes, but in Amy Tan's story of a fourteen-year-old at Christmas, Shame is a lesson. Shame serves not only as a side-effect of a bad fall, of spinach in otherwise pearly-white teeth, of the truth spilling from a lie, but as an experience that provides appreciation to a girl's tremendously special culture.  Although young Amy might not fully comprehend this in her vulnerable, hormonal teenage years, in the face of her "love," better known as the blond-haired boy, Robert, she eventually understands the "true purpose behind [her family's] particular menu" post-mortification. Amy comes to realize -  as I sincerely  hope that society will, at some point in time, preferably near- is that there should be pride in difference. As Mrs. Tan so wisely stated "[The] only shame is to have shame". Amy should not hide her crème de la crème taste in Asian cuisine (which I for one wholeheartedly approve. Is there anything more delicious than thai food, sushi, or general Tso's chicken? I think not.) because it does not fit with the American stereotype. She should embrace it, revel in it, exhibit it like an Emperor's ruby necklace, on the chest with dignity, for all to see. Culture is a prime jewel, and should be treated as such, because just as there is no diamond like another, every culture has attributes rare and fine to be treasured for centuries to come.