Getting to play the character of Wilbur in Family Devotions has been extremely gratifying for several reasons. There is of course the obvious, which is simply getting a role (any role), period. Then there’s the fact it is a David Henry Hwang play being performed during this unprecedented summer of the playwright’s works in Chicago (and I cannot say enough good things about Yellow Face at Silk Road Theatre Project or Chinglish at the Goodman).
Then there is the last reason, which is that out of all the characters in Family Devotions, Wilbur is definitely the one nearest and dearest to me, even before I was cast.
If you have never seen or read the play, Wilbur is the lone Japanese American member (by marriage) of an extended Chinese American family. We don’t learn a lot of his backstory, other than he’s professionally and financially successful, has pets and likes sports (specifically tennis).
However, as I read the play for the first time, barring certain specifics, Wilbur constantly and inevitably reminded me of single key person in my life: my father.
Like Wilbur, my father is Japanese American. Specifically, he is sansei (third generation) and was born and raised on the Hawaiian island of Kauai. Also like Wilbur, he married outside of his community, though my mother is Korean, an émigré who came to the U.S. from Seoul in the late 60s.
Like Wilbur, my father found himself part of a family that to non-Asians probably looked pretty uniform, but trust me, it was anything but. First off was language. My father’s first and only language is English. He was literally born four days after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, so my grandparents spent his childhood working hard to be good Americans, which meant not speaking or teaching Japanese. Luckily, my mother’s English is very fluent. However, at her family gatherings everyone inevitably bantered in their native tongue. This has changed over the years with out-marriage to non-Koreans and more American-born kids being present, but I can remember hours of my father sitting off to the side, looking ever so bored while my mother, aunts and uncles laughed and chatted the night away.
Next up is food. Now, both my parents enjoy Japanese dishes such as sushi or soba noodles, and my father would happily devour kalbi or bulgogi (that’s Korean barbecue to you) when prepared by my mother. However, kimchee (Korean spicy pickled vegetables) and the like were definitely off the list where he was concerned. Now, a lot of people these days may be aware that the Japanese palate is milder to that of Koreans, and, barring wasabi, is not accented by truly hot spices. That alone does not fully explain my father’s attitude, for truth be told, he is a Big Mac man through and through. Not to mention pizza, cheese, Starbuck’s Coffee and stuff that comes out of cans.
But the most striking difference between my father and my mother’s family would definitely be one of attitude, a difference which I can feel emanating in every scene of Family Devotions. There’s some similarities: they both value family, education, hard work and respecting authority. Where they differ would be the intensity of emotion attached to each of the above, plus where exactly the bar for “success” would be raised.
Though never stated outright, I get the impression that success for Wilbur is measured in terms of being comfortable, that very American idea that maybe life should be enjoyed. In the script, he’s certainly prosperous and does not like it when others downplay his achievements, but he lacks one in-law’s obsession with status or his own wife’s need to boast.
In my own family, it was always my mother’s side, the Korean one, where one always seemed to be hearing incessant discussion about how kids were doing in school, what awards folks were winning and where everyone was going for college. My father, on the other hand, was much more laid back. I knew he wanted me and my brother to do well, but his wasn’t the mouth that seemed to always be saying names like MIT, Yale, Princeton and Harvard.
This has led to many interesting moments within our family – some funny, others uncomfortable. My mother has outright stated that Japanese Americans are too relaxed, with mixed-up priorities like waiting in line for Cubs tickets instead of starting a new business. On the flipside, my father has apparently decided that when it comes to Koreans, he just doesn’t ‘get’ them, if not finding them to be outright crazy (something I try to incorporate into Wilbur’s dealings with his in-laws).
I could go on and on, like peeling away the layers of an onion. My father is Buddhist, my mother is Christian. My father is a country boy, my mother grew up in a city. My father’s family were plantation workers, my mother’s relatives were urban professionals. Etcetera, etcetera, as the King of Siam might say. I guess the main point is that I hope non-Asians realize that our differences and variety go far beyond nationality or language. Class, religion, when your family arrived in the U.S. and where all create a hodgepodge of elements that more often than not but heads with one another.
One of the great things about discovering Family Devotions was seeing a family with echoes of my own. Sure, it’s far more extreme than my real life ever was or probably will be, but that’s the great part about art, using exaggeration to get at the truth. Plus, it’s damn funny, and I’m certainly looking forward to my next family gathering more than ever.
