It really sucks how many people see the world in black-and-white. I'm a lot of in-betweens, and it's a position where you're often invisible. I'm half Chinese and half white. I'm not a boy or a girl, but also kind of a girl? I guess that's not a lot. But they're big parts of my identity, so I guess it //is// a lot.
I don't know. I don't have anything grounded to say about this, sorry for rambling.
[[Hopefully this will connect with someone, somewhere.]]
Most people don't recognize me as Chinese at first glance, because I don't look stereotypically Chinese, which makes it feel like I'm not. But I am. People don't often treat me like I am, and I'm not sure what the right way to feel about that is. Or if there is a right way to feel about it. Should I be grateful that I don't get discriminated about being a person of color to my face? Probably. And I am.
It's just weird to be both part of an oppressive group and an oppressed group in the same category. Any other intersectional thing is usually more clear-cut, like if you're trans but white or gay but cis, but when you're both in one way, it's confusing.
Maybe it's the effect of spending a few years on Tumblr but they're always telling you how to act if you're this or that, which is usually good or bad depending on the case. I can't put a blanket statement on it. But it's a little alienating, I felt.
If you're white, you have privilege over people of color, that is a fact. That does apply to me, in addition to the fact that I'm white-passing. And if you're a person of color, you are oppressed by the inherently racist systems in place. That also applies to me.
[[Writing it out, it feels more clear, but the fact that people rarely address that possible crossing over is what gets to me.]]
I think. I'm writing this on the spot here.
My mom is Chinese and my dad is white. (Arizonian, I used to joke.) My parents are divorced and I live with my mom. My grandma is Chinese and used to live with us full-time, but now she just visits occasionally. She's 80-something and learning English, so I've got no excuse, probably?
It's not cultural appropriation to engage in my own culture, no matter how casual, right? Or is it? I wish I knew. It'd be fine either way, as long as I knew for sure how to act. The black-and-white thinking of Tumblr doesn't even reach far enough to judge [[my halfie self]], so I don't know how to act.
Am I faking it? Am I overextending my experiences? I ate tangyuan at a friend's house recently, and I knew what it was and recognized having had it at home before, and it made me happy to remember I have lived uniquely Chinese experiences.
Is this just dumb to feel happy or worry about? I've had thoughts like this for as long as I can remember, though.
Am I still Chinese if I don't put in the effort to know my language beyond what's necessary at home? I can't write in Chinese, I can't even write out pingyin correctly. I could look it up, but I'll subject you to my attempts from memory.
Wo yao chi de dong shi. "I want food."
Wo zhou chu shou. "I'm going to the bathroom."
Wo zhou tu shu guan. "I'm going to the library."
I can understand a fair amount more than I can remember when speaking, but it's still not much.
(I'm embarrassed to say it, but it makes me a little happy to be able to say fish in Chinese, because a lot of white people can't say it right. I feel like this is so dumb. But I take what I can get in terms of validation, hah...)
I often feel like I'm not enough... something. That's a universally applicable feeling. But in this case, my genes don't change, no matter what, at the end of the day, and yet.
[[And yet.]]
Also, I don't know what to call myself. I saw a chart on Twitter that used the term "halfie," but I don't interact with enough mixed people to know if there's any connotations to that, or "mixed."
"Half Chinese and half white" is kind of lengthy.
I used to put "half white" before "half Chinese," but it kind of bothered me so I switched them around and now I always say I'm Chinese first. It's such a small thing. It's weird how things like that can make people feel off.
[[<< ->Writing it out, it feels more clear, but the fact that people rarely address that possible crossing over is what gets to me.]]
I don't know. It's hard to balance it. I think someone I know would tell me to just stop being so emo about this. At least, the harsher version of them that I remember them as. We talk a lot, and yet I worry if they secretly hate me and just put up with me because we're established friends. Are my experiences as valid as theirs? Am I putting too much weight into these experiences?
[[I blame my dad's racist ass for growing up viewing my Chinese side negatively.]]
I don't wanna be that white person who thinks they matter more than they actually do. It would've been so much easier to just be 100 percent one or the other.
I examine my thoughts a lot, because I'm white. But I'm also Chinese, so my experiences with race are still valid, right? It's hard to tell. I'm not knowledgeable enough on this to tell.
[[I just want to know if it's okay for me to exist.]]
What my heart is looking for is for someone whose word I trust to tell me my experiences as a mixed kid are valid, that it's okay for me to feel like this, that yes, I am Chinese and I have authority on being Chinese. That would be ideal, even if it probably wouldn't magically erase all my self-doubt forever.
But there's still the possibility I'm totally overreacting and this doesn't matter at all to anyone, which is what I'm scared of. What if there was no point to writing all this out. What if I'm the overdramatic and self-absorbed white kid, and that really actually ends up being the final truth.
I still haven't reached a conclusion. I'm sorry if it's obvious to the reader. It is kind of obvious to me, but I still doubt myself. I don't want to mess up.
Ah, fucking hell. I hope this was worth the read.
My dad is a huge racist, and an asshole. I grew up hearing [["ching chong ling long"]] inside my own damn house.
He always made fun of my grandma speaking Chinese, the only fucking language she spoke at the time, //literally every time she spoke//. He thought it was sooo funny to tell her the wrong versions of common phrases.
Despite marrying a Chinese woman, he never bothered to even try learning the language, at any point.
"What did she say?"
Cue my mom rolling her eyes.
"She's going out to shop for groceries."
It was a pain in the ass to translate for him every single time, so we usually ended up abridging whatever she said.
I really hate that I glorified that bastard during childhood. My mom went out to work and pay for everything while my dad sat on his ass at home playing video games all day. Him being a gamer made him the Cool Dad TM in our eyes as eight year olds. God.
Never mind his whole alien cult deal, LOL.
[[<< ->And yet.]]
Last week, during Chemistry, I heard some students one table over saying that phrase. It was sooo fucking funny to them.
Immediately, I felt angry, uncomfortable, and shameful, and also I wondered if I was even allowed to be angry about it. It all comes back to that one complex of "Am I Chinese enough to..?"
I didn't say anything, though. I never speak up.
[[<< ->I blame my dad's racist ass for growing up viewing my Chinese side negatively.]]