IntentChat Logo
Blog
← Back to English (UK) Blog
Language: English (UK)

Why do your 'seven aunts and eight uncles' always give you a headache? This is the true meaning of 'family'.

2025-08-13

Why do your 'seven aunts and eight uncles' always give you a headache? This is the true meaning of 'family'.

Have you ever had this experience?

Returning home for Chinese New Year, you step through the door and are immediately surrounded by a group of relatives whose exact relation you can't quite place. They enthusiastically ask: "Do you have a partner yet? How much do you earn? When are you going to buy a house?" You smile awkwardly, while your mind races, trying to figure out if that's a paternal aunt or a maternal one? Or a paternal cousin or a maternal one?

This 'sweet burden' is a shared moment of 'social anxiety' for many young Chinese people. We often feel that family relationships are too complex, there are too many rules, and too much pressure.

But have you ever stopped to consider what truly lies behind this? Why does 'family' (家) hold such a central, profound, and indispensable position in the lives of Chinese people?

Today, we won't discuss those complicated titles. Instead, we want to share a simple analogy to help you truly understand the meaning of 'family'.

Your Family: An Invisible Banyan Tree

Imagine that every Chinese family is like an ancient, flourishing banyan tree.

  • The Roots are 'Filial Piety' (孝): Deeply embedded in the soil are our ancestors and the cultural tradition of 'filial piety' (孝道). This isn't merely a moral imperative; in ancient times, it was a rule for survival. The roots deliver nutrients to the entire tree, connecting the past with the present. This is why we place such importance on ancestor worship and respecting elders – we are confirming our own origins.

  • The Trunk is 'Family' (家): You, your parents, and your siblings form the core trunk of this tree. It is sturdy and strong, a shield against wind and rain. The Chinese character '家' (jiā) comprises '宀' (mí, representing a roof) above '豕' (shǐ, meaning pig), signifying having a roof over your head and food to eat. For thousands of years, this solid trunk has been our most fundamental 'social security' and our safe harbour.

  • The Branches are 'Kinship' (亲): Those 'seven aunts and eight uncles' (七大姑八大姨) – all those relatives who give you a headache – are the countless branches extending from the main trunk. They are intricately intertwined and interconnected, forming a vast network. In an era without banks or laws, this network was your credit system, your human resources, your backing. When help was needed, the entire family network would mobilise for you.

The 'pressure' and 'constraints' we feel today are, in fact, the lingering imprints of this ancient tree's wisdom for survival. The 'interrogation' from relatives is less about prying into your privacy and more about the banyan tree ensuring that each and every branch is healthy and safe.

We Are New Branches Growing Towards the Sun

By understanding this tree, perhaps we can view it through a new lens.

Our generation is very fortunate. We no longer fully rely on this great tree to shelter us from the elements; we have our own jobs, social security, and lifestyles. We yearn for independence, for freedom, and to break free from those intricately entwined 'old rules'.

But this doesn't mean we should cut down the tree.

On the contrary, we are new branches growing from this ancient tree, and we have the opportunity to grow towards a broader sky and brighter sunshine. Our task isn't to oppose the roots, but to transform their nourishment into new vitality.

True growth isn't about escape, but about 're-interpretation' – understanding and responding to our elders' care in our generation's way; communicating with them in wiser, gentler ways.

Tell them that we are capable of taking care of ourselves, and reassure them. Share our world with them, instead of just giving perfunctory answers when asked. When we no longer view their concern as 'control', but rather as the ancient banyan tree's 'delivery of nutrients', our perspective might just open up dramatically.

From the Language of 'Family' to the Language of the World

Communication is always the bridge that connects. Whether connecting the 'branches' of different generations within a family, or connecting friends from diverse cultural backgrounds across the world.

We often feel that communicating with elders in our family is like 'cross-cultural communication', requiring patience and skill. Similarly, as we venture into the world and interact with friends and colleagues from different countries, we also encounter language and cultural barriers.

Fortunately, in today's world, technology can help us communicate better. For example, when you want to have an in-depth conversation with a foreign friend but are worried about language barriers, tools like Lingogram can come in handy. Its built-in AI translation feature allows you to effortlessly converse with anyone in the world, just like chatting with a friend, breaking down language barriers.

Ultimately, whether it's about maintaining a 'family' or integrating into the wider world, the core lies in our willingness to understand, to communicate, and to connect.

The next time you face your family's 'probing questions', try to think of that invisible banyan tree.

You aren't being interrogated; you are simply experiencing an ancient tree's most awkward, yet most profound, concern for its new branches. And you, are both a part of this tree and its brand new future.