You Do Not Have The Right To Tell Me Not To Get Offended

On my driver’s license, I am an American. And that is the best word to describe my nationality. I was raised in America for most of my life, I’ve experienced almost all the growth milestones one can have at my age in this country. But I was born in China. For some, that means very little. Some children were born on army bases in different countries but were never culturally raised there. It doesn’t matter much to them- it’s simply a fun fact. To me however, it’s an opaque piece of my identity that will never reveal itself to me.

In 2003, I was adopted by a white couple and brought into the states. It’s occurred to me that, while I am Asian in appearance, I was not brought up culturally Asian. Sure, I was dragged to three or four Chinese New Year festivals in poor attempts to try and connect me with my culture. I even did martial arts for several years. But I’ve never felt a true connection to my race and its culture. I’ve always felt othered. I’m Asian to westerners, not Asian enough for other Asians.

I’m not alone in this sentiment at all and it is not even specific to Asian (or non Asian) adoptees. There is however, a nuance to those who are Asian and adopted, in relation to the disconnect with their identity and culture. I’ve seen it so much in the groups that I am in. Most of us feel this loneliness, a shutting out of sorts from both non-Asians and Asians. We don’t know where we belong in the race-cultural spectrum as there isn’t a section carved out for us to belong in. There’s an otherness in an already never-ending abyss of racial otherness.

So while I may not battle with who I am every waking moment, I still realize that there is a part of me that may never be at peace with this aspect of my deceased past. This doesn’t mean that I’m not Asian though, no matter what, “white” traits I have contracted from my uprising. To most around me in my community, I am Asian. They think, “sure her family’s white, but she’s still Asian.”

There’s a dichotomy for other people when they see me. They can’t decide exactly where I land on the scale between stereotypical white-American, and stereotypical Asian. It varies, but normally I, “put the Asian in Caucasian,” to many people. There have been many comments made from those who I’m personal that describe how “white” I come off in varying degrees of creativity. My pumpkin loving, spice intolerant person reads as such a “white” Asian. Is that not in some way sad though? I can’t enjoy these “basic” things without feeling othered.

I get a lot of “jokes” from people that I know. Racist little naggings that are no big deal to them, but start clumping together in my head into this hideous recreation of who that person is and what they think of me.

“Don’t be sensitive, it’s just a joke.”

I want all of those who relate to me to hear this: “You are not allowed to tell me that I can not get offended over racism.”

Recently, someone close to me made a comment that broke the camel’s back and I confronted them about it. Years of little comments started to overflow my bucket with spewing hot negativity. I calmly stated, “your apology means little to me if you never grow. You are racist.” Said person walked away the minute I outed them. They walked away, making me feel like I needed to defend my position, as if this was a two sided argument. I do not need to feel guilty when another person has offended me, nor should I (or you) feel bad for pointing out the repeat offenses. Simply call a spade a spade.

“She must be so sensitive if she can’t take a joke.” I’m sure that’s what the perpetrator’s of my offense must think. Maybe I am. Or maybe I just realize that these comments are not simple jokes. I do not need to feel more othered by those around me when the world is pushing me into a small corner anyways. There’s already enough pushing against me telling me that I am not accepted. No one should make you feel othered, especially those with whom you surround yourself with.

At the end of the day, pick your battles. If you want to advocate for yourself, I support you all the way. Even if you don’t, I support you. Everyone needs someone in their corner. I advise you however to never let anyone dictate your feelings when they’re the ones who hurt them to begin with. If anything is your own, it is your feelings.