As a moderately White-passing BIPOC, identity is weird.
I always considered myself to be one of the lucky ones. I would hear stories about other biracial/mixed-race kids who grew up being ostracized by their families for not fitting in, stories about native languages being spoken for the sole purpose of isolating those who couldn't understand it (whether it was the kids or the partners).
But my family didn't have that problem. We are a fairly culturally mixed family. None of my cousins are fully Chinese, we're all mixes of something, and I think that meant our family was more accepting of who we are. And since my cousins and I are pretty much 3rd gen kids, there was never a language issue because even our grandparents spoke English fluently.
I was (and still am) very proud of being a halfie — and I recognise that some people don't like that term, but it's what I grew up using and what I identify as. I had friends of many races and ethnicities so I was never made to feel like an outlier there, either. And I know lots of other mixed-race kids who could share in my experiences.
With that being said, though, somewhere along the line, I started feeling like I wasn't Asian enough. Enough for who? I don't know. In high school, a lot of the people I hung out with were White — not trying to say this as a bad thing, it just was what it was. And then in university, that kind of switched. Most of the people I see on a regular basis are Asians, and they are Asians who grew up differently than me. They are more connected to their cultures than I am.
My family was never super adventurous when it came to the foods we ate: we cooked both European and Asian foods, but rarely went out to hot pot places or pho restaurants or got Thai food (and the list goes on). And so when my friends would recommend those cuisines, a part of me was scared I'd make a fool of myself because I wouldn't know how to order it or what I would like.
The first time I ever ordered bubble tea was an EXPERIENCE. I made my best friend go first so I could see how it was done because I had never had it before. Nowadays, I am a bubble tea ordering PRO. Not too long ago, I had to order 5 drinks, all with varying flavours and sugar/ice levels.
But I still get those days where I don't feel Asian enough. I am trying to correct that now by exposing myself to more cuisines (I haven't met a cuisine I don't like yet) and connecting more to my Chinese culture.
I feel like we grew up with a kind of White-washed view on being Chinese; we are Chinese, and we do celebrate Chinese holidays and traditions, but it always felt surface-level. I don't know if my siblings feel the same way, but I know that I do.
However, the more I try to connect with my Chinese side, the more it feels like I'm ignoring the other half of me. My mom has even commented on that. But... then there's the (somewhat controversial) argument of, "Does White culture exist?" As an Italian-Ukrainian, yeah, those are ethnic cultures we could celebrate, but White? What does it mean to be White? What is the White experience? I don't have the answer to that, nor do I want to attempt to answer it.
I think I tend to want to identify more as Chinese than White because I don't really look all that Asian. Some people will disagree with me on that, but they aren't the ones who are constantly having to deal with people's shock when they see my last name or a photo of me and my dad. I have been asked if I am adopted, if my dad is "really my dad," and told, "Wow, I would never have guessed you were Chinese!" and more. If I am just with my mom, people assume we're related. But if I'm just with my dad, we sometimes get strange looks.
My parents and I once went on a trip where my mom was going to go home before my dad and I, and my dad was concerned that the airport security wasn't going to think we were related, even though we share a last name. I think he even asked my mom to write a note saying we were family. And when all three of us were flying home from a trip to Costa Rica, a flight attendant came up to me and asked me if these people next to me were my parents (they were). Sometimes being biracial is a strange experience.
I think I try to cling to that part of me in particular because I have to deal with stuff like that; I have to deal with people not realising that I am both Asian and White. I feel like I have to prove my Asianness.
Prove it to who? I don't know. But here we are anyway.
I'm just a biracial kid trying to find her way in the world.
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