Seeing Ourselves Through Mahjong

For as long as I can remember, I have felt things deeply.

Because I worried that others might not accept the real me, I often kept my true thoughts and feelings to myself. But the more I held them in, the stronger they became. I found myself caught in the same emotional storm, time and time again.

I gradually came to understand that letting go of our emotions does not mean avoiding or suppressing them. It means having the courage to face ourselves—to notice what we are feeling, understand where those feelings come from, express them honestly and considerately, and then gently let them go.

After moving to the UK, differences in language and culture made expressing myself even more difficult. This helped me realise just how important honest and thoughtful communication can be.

What makes Mahjong so enjoyable is not only the game itself, but the interaction between the people around the table. There is anticipation, excitement, disappointment, frustration and sometimes even pride or blame. Because Mahjong can bring our emotions to the surface so easily, it can also become a mirror—showing us parts of ourselves that we may not usually notice.

With every tile we draw and discard, we have an opportunity to observe our thoughts and reactions. Do we become proud when we win? Do we blame others when we lose? Do we grow impatient while waiting? Can we remain understanding when someone makes a mistake?

At Mahjong Academy, I hope you will not only learn how to play Mahjong, but also enjoy the game while discovering more about yourself.

When an emotion arises, we do not have to judge ourselves or blame someone else. Instead, we can learn to notice it, understand it, express how we feel and, eventually, allow it to pass.

This is something I am still learning too. I hope that, through every game we share, we can come to understand ourselves—and one another—a little better.

In recent years, I’ve heard many stories of Hongkongers living abroad who have struggled to find their place in their new communities because of differences in language, culture and ways of life. Some gradually become isolated at home, and with that disconnection can come loneliness, uncertainty and emotional struggles. At the same time, local communities experiencing the arrival of many newcomers may not have had the opportunity to truly meet, understand or get to know them.

The UK is a multicultural society, where people of different cultures, ethnicities and beliefs live alongside one another with mutual respect. But I believe true integration goes beyond simply respecting our differences. We need opportunities to meet, understand and communicate with one another.

We need a bridge between us.

And Mahjong is the bridge I want to build.

Around a Mahjong table, four people who may have never met before can sit down together. They may speak different languages, come from different cultures, belong to different generations and have completely different backgrounds—yet a simple game can be where they begin to know one another.

But once I began teaching, I realised that this bridge was never one-way. While sharing my own culture, I was also learning from others—their language, their culture, the way they think, and the way they see the world.

I thought I was teaching Mahjong. Then I realised I had been learning all along.