What am I? Don't you mean WHO am I?

WHAT is the issue

I understand that it is only natural to categorize. Psychologically, all animals do it. It makes life a lot less confusing to know friend from foe, tasty dinner from gangsta neighbor who will swallow you whole.

But there are so many instances where it doesn't matter. If it's not pertinent to survival, toss it. The extraneous mental baggage really weighs you down in the long run. Toss it.

I grew up in an ethnic enclave. It's wonderful I'm immersed in Chinese/Chinese in the Americas culture on a daily basis. (I would say that's different from Chinese American culture, with or without the hyphen. Subtle wording with a world of difference.) When I stepped into high school and then college, I was not held back by my one-sided cultural education. I revel in experiences that would break down whatever preconceived notions I've ever had about one thing or another. I live to know.

I used to LOVE being called "little big-eyed girl." To me, it means I'm completely adorable! But when my mom was called that as a child in China, it was a derogatory expression. Yes, the stereotypical "chinky-eye" was the hot thing and my mom's eyes were far from that measure of beauty. Times have changed and the big eyes are key. But people still categorize and label. There's no change in that department.

I've been asked TWICE this week if I'm Filipina; once by a Filipino man and once by a white woman. It's not the first time I've been asked that. I don't fit the classic "Chinese" look that well. I was told I could pass as half-white/half-Chinese because of my nose and eyes. I was once asked if I'm half-black. I'm not sure how I come off as both half white and half black. Go fig.

"Pale-skin" "Round Eye"

What does it matter? I'm not really that disgusted or annoyed by those comments. I'm rather intrigued by them. I wonder how I look to someone else. I always thought I look Chinese because I know I'm Chinese and I look like ME all day everyday. As far as superficial race identity goes, that's all I have to say.

Racism...That's a whole different story. Age 10. I was walking to Seaport with my best friend at the time. This cute little old white lady walks by and says with noted extreme disgust "Stupid Chinks." We weren't being rowdy or obnoxious. We were just walking. It shocked me to the core. I generally have a terrible memory but that moment is seared into my mind.

I haven't had to deal with racism again until college. College of all places.

I was asked by a friend if the reason why I like black men is because I hang out with a mutual black female friend. Maybe you wouldn't consider that racism, but I do in my mind because the comment assumes some kind of race identity issue on my part as an Asian American, that as an Asian, I have to be this nebulous being to be molded by an outside culture, that I couldn't very well think for myself, that black men have nothing to offer me other than their bodies. I was furious! I've also been accused of having a fetish for black men. AGAIN! I was furious! No. My preferences are my own preferences and they are preferences, not fetishes. Refer to my textbook definitions. Did these accusers ever bother to ask me what my type is? Nope.

Someone once said to me in college, "But aren't you Oriental?" Very strange. Other people may not have said anything to my face, but there must be a reason why some Asians in college didn't bother to talk to me and why I felt a bit ostracized by some other people because most of the company I kept happen to be black. It was like I was THAT Asian girl in the group of black and Latino students. I didn't feel that way. But I was probably seen as such. The sentiment is usually thinly veiled on their faces. Does that bother me? Extremely.

Don't assume WHAT I am. Don't me put into boxes labeled with WHATs. I am a WHO. You don't know me and the socially appropriate question that will give you the opportunity to know the real me would be

"Who are you?"