On January 8th, 2000, I was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba. As the 3rd daughter of two immigrants who fled Vietnam due to the overtake of Communism in 1978, I was gifted with the name Loanne II Tran. My father found great pride and honour in the fact that his children have become the second generation to step foot in Canada under the family name of Tran, and he gave my sisters and I the middle name, II.
Throughout these 10 self-portraits, I've dedicated five images to my Canadian roots and five images to my Vietnamese roots. With the first five images, I've portrayed the identity I've constructed throughout my years in Canada, with my love of fashion and makeup along with bold colour choices.
For the following five, I'm photographed nude against materials that would be used to create the traditional Vietnamese áo dài, with the two candles representing my middle name, II. I appear barefaced and naked to show the lack of connection I have with my Vietnamese culture, and the vulnerability I face when confronted with my roots.
Growing up, I’ve always struggled to find where I belonged in social circles and accepting my culture. I was always one of the few minority students within the white-dominant population, but I never saw the lack of racial diversity as an issue until recently. I was in awe by the lifestyle of these privileged white kids, their never-ending pockets of money, and their appearances.
For over half of my life, I refused to acknowledge my Vietnamese culture unless I benefitted from it by appearing “exotic” or “cool” because I wanted to be like them so badly. I never once took the time to think about the damage I was doing to myself and my family, I was too busy chasing the lives of others that I never acknowledged the financial hole I dug my family into with my yearn for social acceptance.
In small doses, I would find little parts of myself that was unique from others. Sometimes it was my choice of music or fascination with beauty and fashion that was different from social norms, but slowly interests of my childhood began to surface. Overtime, I started to transition away from my ‘Canadian roots’ and began to acknowledge the neglection of my Vietnamese culture as I entered the world of arts.
During this time of change, I realized how wrong and disrespectful I was to my family and myself. Now, I feel unworthy to claim this part of myself that is very present in my everyday life. I’ve started to question myself and others, “Do I look Asian enough?”, “Would you presume I’m an English speaker?”, as if English isn’t my one and only language. I only find glimpses of Vietnamese culture within myself: my name, my cooking, my physical appearance. Aside from that, it becomes a giant void full of confusion with identity and self-worth.
