by Karin Lin, ARP guest contributor
“How do you pass on your ethnic heritage to your children when you grew up in an immigrant household focusing 100 percent of your energy on making yourself as mainstream American as possible?”
This was the question posed in a recent New York Times article and one that, as a second-generation Asian married to a Caucasian, I struggle with frequently.
I grew up in a university town in Kansas as the only child of Taiwanese immigrants. Assimilation was a matter of survival, and I learned from an early age that my acceptance depended on my ability to act as white as possible. I denied my race and ethnicity whenever I could, even to the point of repeating playground taunts like, “Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these!” without realizing that they were directed at me and my few fellow Asians.
Trying to be white was not as difficult for me as it might have been for some. I was “blessed” with fair skin, a double eyelid, a Western first name, and the ability to speak unaccented English. When my classmates would ask me to teach them words of Mandarin or Taiwanese, I demurred, not wanting to call attention to the fact that I and my parents spoke such an “exotic” language. I tried, and mostly succeeded, to convince myself that I was just like my white friends.
Though I didn’t fully understand it as a child, I also developed a perverse self-hatred of myself and my race, absorbing the message that my ethnicity was a burden and that my social acceptance was a fragile gift that could be revoked at any time. When a sixth-grade classmate and friend, in a jealous snit that I’d been chosen for a nationwide talent search, remarked, “No offense, but you and Brian [a fellow Taiwanese-American] don’t really belong here”, I nodded—yes, nodded! I didn’t really belong here, but if I was unobtrusive and tried as hard as I could to be like everyone else, maybe they’d let me stay.
In adolescence, I was inevitably attracted to white guys. When the interest wasn’t reciprocated, I had to wonder if I was being rejected for my person or my race—but I didn’t dwell on the idea too long, because it was too hard to accept that there might be something about myself that was anathema to my romantic life, something that I couldn’t change no matter how desperately I wanted to. There were men, too, who were attracted to me because I was Asian, but I didn’t dwell on that, either. I took what I could get.
By the time I got to college, my “act white and admit to being Asian only when absolutely necessary” mentality was ingrained. Even at MIT, with its huge percentage of Asian students. I had no use for, and was somewhat baffled by, the multitude of Asian religious and cultural groups around campus. When my new (white) boyfriend revealed me to his mother and she grumbled, “Well, at least she’s not black,” I didn’t see the blatant racism in her remark; my only response was relief. Yes, thank goodness I wasn’t black; I was “only” Asian. I was close enough to white to be acceptable.
Eventually I married a different white man, and we had two beautiful daughters. In the back of my mind it nagged at me a little that they would end up more white than I am—I feared my Asian heritage would be diluted into nonexistence within a few generations—but I didn’t think there was anything I could do about it.
Then, a little over a year ago, I was introduced to the anti-racism movement, and my world changed completely.
For the first time ever, I understood why I’d been trying my whole life to be something I wasn’t. Why would I want to be Asian when all around me were images of white beauty and white power? Why would I honor my ethnic heritage when all the heroes of my English books and history books were white? The problem wasn’t me. This realization was accompanied by anger, relief, and determination. I immersed myself in the writings of minority and anti-racist authors. I read Paul Kivel’s Uprooting Racism and Beverly Daniel Tatum’s Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? I devoured Phoebe Eng’s Warrior Lessons and Frank Wu’s Yellow: Race In America Beyond Black and White. I had a new world view that was tremendously empowering because it gave me a reason to value myself for who I was, not for my degree of success in pretending to be white.
I feel very fortunate that I came into this understanding early enough in my life for it to positively affect my daughters’ identities. Because I can now embrace my Taiwanese heritage, they will learn to do the same. They won’t have to look in the mirror and hate what they see, or be embarrassed to speak another language with their grandparents. They will have books with pictures of kids who look like them and learn that people of all colors made great contributions to history.
As for the original question posed at the beginning of this column, it is hard to pass on my ethnic heritage to my children when I spent the first thirty years of my life trying to deny it. It feels a little contrived to be learning Taiwanese history now from books, and to be studying Mandarin formally instead of having learned it all as a child. But I’m in what Tatum calls the “immersion/emersion” stage of racial identity development, and I hope my daughters are reaping the benefits. We’re lucky to live in the San Francisco Bay Area where there are many Asians. I’ve joined the Asian/Pacific Islander identity group within my mostly white church and an organization for Taiwanese American professionals. There’s even a Taiwanese American center less than five miles from my home where the girls take Mandarin and Taiwanese lessons once a week, and where my family has been warmly embraced by the mostly first-generation community.
And we’re all going back to Taiwan next month—for me, it will be the first time in eleven years. I can’t wait.
Karin Lin is a Silicon Valley software engineer and mom to two girls, ages 5 and 3. She is an anti-racist activist within the Unitarian Universalist church, an amateur classical violinist, and a language lover. Karin resides in the East San Francisco Bay with her family.
Image courtesy of Dawn M. Armfield on Flickr.
Thank you for your article; it resonated so much with me, although I was adopted by a White family. I had, however, a very similar arc to my journey into anti-racism. I think it was becoming a parent and fearing my child would buy into or internalize the same negative stereotypes about being an Asian person that made me realize I had a lot of work to do on my own racial identity.
Best wishes on going to Taiwan with your family! Taking my family to Korea last year was one of the best experiences our family has ever had and the kids emerged so proud of their Korean heritage.
O. M. G. YES! Your points about learning about your own culture from books, and not from simply living it (and how weird that feels); and your expressions of fear regarding the dilution of your heritage — those truly resonated with me. As a Biracial Black woman raised in a predominantly White environment, I felt the same way growing up. Only within the last four years have I begun that “immersion/emersion” stage of my identity (I’m only 29). Glad to know that I’m not alone!
I really loved this post. Thanks for writing it. I suppose I’m in the immersion/emersion stage as well, being a Korean American learning Korean in Korea! It makes me feel better to learn that there are people in the same boat.
Thank you, thank you for writing this. It has touched me to the soul. It is exactly how many of us have gone through life. Your story, is my story, except I am Hispanic, however, that is the only difference.
My children are growing up in three cultures. We are doing it the best way we have learned how. Through language. They have our language, their adopted country’s language and they are now learning their native country’s language.
Again, thank you for voicing something we have struggled with all our lives.
I love your article, but I do have a question. Do you think that you’re wanting to blend in with the white community was the reason you married a white man? Because I notice a LOT of asian/white pairings and sometimes I wonder if it is really only out of love or the self “hatred” or “embarrassment” of minority races that they think they’d be better off marrying a white person. I’m a minority myself and a friend of mine is from Bangladesh. Some of them actually say that yes they “marry up to a white man because whites are still seen as being more powerful, more celebrated, and better than the other races.” I just am interested if that was similar in asian families also. Thanks!
Hey, I also grew up in a university town in Kansas! Small world.
I think your story is somewhat archetypical for many Asian Americans who undergo this process of awakening and self-discovery.
“Then, a little over a year ago, I was introduced to the anti-racism movement, and my world changed completely.”
By anti-racism movement, do you mean that you encountered activists and organizations or critical texts and books from this movement?
Great post! Every ethnic group has individuals that struggle with identity issues. Thanks for being so honest with what you were feeling and thinking. Hopefully, your article will reach many individuals who haven’t quite got where you are today.
I am Karin Lin.
Thank you all for your touching comments. I’m also glad to know that I haven’t been alone in my experiences, and deeply grateful to ARP for the opportunity to share my story.
@Yoli: Siempre creo que somos más semejantes que diferentes, y el racismo hace daño a todos. Me alegra saber que ustedes celebran todas las culturas de su familia.
@Norma: I wouldn’t say that my marriage to a white man was specifically motivated by wanting to blend into the white community. My love for my husband is genuine. However, I do believe that when one grows up learning that white is beautiful and white is powerful and white is desirable, one tends to be attracted to white people, simple as that. I can believe that some women are more calculating about their choice of mate, but I don’t think that was the case for me.
@Lxy: My introduction to the anti-racism movement happened within the Unitarian Universalist church, which has some very dedicated people doing this work. I met both people of color and white allies who introduced me to concepts like white privilege and institutional racism, and read the writings of people like Paul Kivel and James Loewen and Tim Wise. I’ve attended one anti-racism conference and hope to go to more in the future. There’s a lot out there, and it’s not too hard to find once your eyes are open to it.
Well, you have basically summed up the reason I started my blog (www.balancedmeltingpot.com). For me, it was pointless to attempt to blend in with white Americans (because I am a black Haitian), so I sometimes rejected my culture to fit in more with African Americans. The hard part was, the expectations of my parents mirrored more those of white American parents . They wanted me to get good grades and go to college. Now, before people get upset, I know there are many African American families who have those same expectations for their children and who are very successful, etc. Unfortunately, the few African American families whom I frequented did not have these attributes. So, to make a long story short, as I grew older I became so proud of my cultural heritage (even though it isolated friends in high school) and I made it a priority to learn as much about that side of my history, etc. as possible. I am married to a first generation Haitian immigrant, which doesn’t necessarily make things easier
, and it is very important for us to include both sides in raising our children. What has been a blessing for my daughter is that she goes to French immersion program where everyone is from somewhere else and it’s “cool” to have accents and speak several languages. I hope that she holds on to this confidence and openness even if she moves into a more traditional school setting one day.
Overall, fantastic article!
Karin,
I have heard your story and others like it and am always left with the same question: Do you think there was a conscious feeling of needing to be white?, or was it more of a desire to be “American”?
Karen, thank you, thank you – this is beautiful. (and painful – I could just imagine that little girl nodding when her friend said that appalling thing about her not “belonging”. here.) Sweetheart, you belong right in the center of us all, and I’m so glad you’re here in my life.
This gave me an appreciation of the importance to your trip to Taiwan – have a great trip.
love
Heather
Here’s an interesting “anti-racist” journal, _Race Traitor_.
Though it is no longer publishing, I believe, it was willing to adopt a more radical examination of the nature of White identity and power.
Their motto says it all: “Treason to whiteness is loyalty to humanity.”
http://racetraitor.org/
Karin,
Your honesty is admirable. I am a Japanese American (JA) who grew up in a predominantly Asian community. I married a JA and now live in a predominantly white community. We have two beautiful children. Looking back, is there anything your parents could have done to lessen your self-hate? My kids are usually the only Asians. Thank you, again, for your honesty.
Hi NorthStar –
Hope it’s ok to give some advice in addition to Karin’s…
- Teach your children about race and racism. Not having a vocabulary to name the bigotry that I experienced as something larger than myself meant that I took a lot of it to be because my own shortcomings. Being able to contextualize my experiences AS racism would have helped a lot.
- Have or make strong connections to communities of color (especially, but definitely not only, other Japanese Americans). (Among other things, going to Korean American camp was really helpful for me as a kid, so if that’s an option for you, I’d highly recommend it.)
- Have movies/books/pictures featuring main characters of color, especially Asians or Asian Americans. Deconstruct racist/invisibilizing messages with your kids to help them recognize what’s going on in them.
Those are the biggest things that I can think of, but of course there are a million others, and I know I’ve seen lists on this site somewhere before… Does anyone remember where?
Do you still feel attracted to white guys? Or have you realized that your attraction to white guys is really a manifestation of your self-hate?
Thank you for your article. Your story is very similar to mine.
I started fully embracing my Filipino heritage when I was in college. After living in a community where I was the only Asian kid, I was suddenly in an environment where the student population was 20% Asian. I was happy that I would finally “fit in,” but then I realized I really didn’t fit in at all. I always felt that I wasn’t “Filipino enough.” When I met my future husbad (who is white), I struggled with being with him because I felt I was once again betraying my heritage. I love my husband and have no regrets, but I still struggle with my identity.
@ Gunfighter: I understand your question, as it’s one I’ve heard before. I think my desire was simply “to belong”, whatever that meant. But I don’t think I would have had such a hard time if I’d been the blond, blue-eyed daughter of, say, Swedish immigrants, and that says something about whom we consider “American”. Race definitely is a part of it.
@ Heather: I love you too.
Thanks for the comment, and please stick around here!
@ Lxy: Thanks for the link. It is somewhat radical, and I’ll need some time to digest it all. I do like the analogy of abolishing whiteness to abolishing royalty…it’s about getting rid of white people, but getting rid of white privilege.
@ NorthStar: I echo everything Katie said (and if someone does know where those lists are, I’d love to see them too). I think one major difficulty is that immigrant parents themselves often aren’t aware of the insidious effects of racism on their children because they come from a very different place, both literally and figuratively. As another second-generation friend of mine once explained, our parents knew who they were. They were Taiwanese. They had confidence in that identity, and they were less fazed by racist comments when they came to the U.S. because they knew they (at least at one point) belonged SOMEWHERE. So they’re often not equipped to deal with the confusing issues that their children face. I commend you for recognizing that your children will need certain things from you…you are doing them an enormous service.
Karin and Katie,
Wonderful words of advice! I admire both of you for being able to candidly express your position minus the anger. I finally found a blog where parents can have meaningful chats about real issues. Just tonight my four year old son said, “Look Mommy, I’m Japanese,” and he squinted his eyes. I told him that people do that to make fun of our beautiful eyes ; so, don’t do it to other Asians and other kids should not do it to you. I’ve taught my kids when to say, “Stop, I don’t like that.” My daughter’s favorite is, “Treat others the way you want to to be treated. Would you like it if I made fun of your ____.” Still, in response to my son, I made the usual pause, experienced a moment of shock, and fumbled for words. I’ve already rehearsed the conversation I’ll have with my kids on the way to school tomorrow.
I feel good to be connected to other parents who share the same values.
Great Article! Keep on learning, Keep on Growing!!!
karin: though i am essentially echoing the musings of those who posted before me, i simply must say THANK YOU for writing this. as a biracial woman who grew up in a very loving and open black mom/white dad family, attending schools with mostly white student bodies and having mostly white friends/boyfriends, who worries about what will happen when i have children should their father be white OR black (will my family’s ‘blackness’ or ‘whiteness,’ i.e. our dual heritage, be effaced, lost, forgotten? will i, who has struggled with the same feelings you describe, be able to adequately explain this dual heritage and ensure their connection, appreciation and involvement in all aspects of their cultural inheritance while still preparing them for the assumptions, etc that people make based on ‘what’ they think you are according to your features, etc?), i was so moved to read your account of your experiences. what you have said here resonates so strongly and gives me hope that with time comes clarity, or at least direction. really, just thank you for verbalizing some things that i often think about, wonder about and worry about in a positive and uplifting way. it’s wonderful to hear others’ stories!