Don’t Judge a Person by the Color of His Skin
Has anyone ever told you that “your English is pretty good,” not knowing that you were, in fact, born in America? As a third generation Asian-American, I have had to face comments like these for years.
Actually, English is my first language, and I do not speak any Asian languages at all. My parents and even my grandparents have spoken English to me my entire life. I was raised with American values, and I consider myself 100% American and 100% Chinese. Though I hold these two identities, others tend to only see one.
I grew up in an Asian neighborhood and went to majority Asian schools from pre-school through high school. So, being Asian and speaking English always seemed normal to me. However, I have also long known what it feels like to be an outsider in the Asian community. Most are familiar with the term FOB, meaning “fresh off the boat,” but there is also a term for people like me and that is ABC, which is short for “American-born Chinese” and is also derogatory for Chinese-Americans have little to nonexistent knowledge of the Chinese language. Since I know that I’m an ABC, I feel uncomfortable going to Chinatown or ordering Chinese food because I know that as soon as I open my mouth, it will give away that I can’t speak Chinese. I’d rather avoid the dirty looks and the knowledge that people are looking at me and thinking, “Look at that dumb ABC!”
It’s even more embarrassing when an elderly man or woman at the grocery store starts asking me something in Chinese, pointing and saying things that I don’t understand. I’d like to help them, I really would. But all I can do is tell them in English what they’re holding and apologize for my inability to communicate.
Now, it’s one thing to get contempt from other Asians because I can understand how they find it disappointing that I can’t speak the language of my own people…but when unpleasant comments come from non-Asians, it irks me in a different way. Then, it becomes prejudiced and racist.
One encounter that has stuck with me occurred while shopping in downtown San Francisco. As if kiosk venders aren’t annoying already, the one who was trying to sell useless junk to me asked, “Where are you from?” Not thinking anything of it, I replied honestly, “San Francisco.” But this wasn’t what he wanted to know. Unsatisfied with my response, he inquired again, “No, where are you really from?” How insulting! The nerve of a stranger to take one look at my Asian face and assume I was not from here! I don’t mean to say anything against immigrants. America would not be America without them. But I think it was wrong for him to assume that I was an immigrant just because I did not look to him like the stereotypical White American. What he really wanted to know was what my ethnicity was. Without making a scene, I said calmly, “You mean, where were my ancestors from? China.” But I will never forget his bigotry.
Although I identify myself as an American, there is no such place called “America-land.” So I acknowledge that I have Asian roots and that I am a person of color. I am proud to be Asian AND I am proud to be American. I am both, whether the world can see it or not.
Did you know?
Asians live across the United States, on both coasts, in Hawaii, and even Alaska. According to the Census of 2000, 4.2% of Americans are of Asian descent. That’s 11.9 million people. Is this more or less than you expected?
Credit: U.S. Census Bureau, http://www.census.gov/prod/2002pubs/c2kbr01-16.pdf
Amanda is the director of Something Something with Jennie Le. Her day job is as a student at UC Berkeley.
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