Asian Heritage Month

What is Asian Heritage Month for this adoptee? It is an open wound, a floundering, a contradiction. It is a fierce pride in who I am, in who my ancestors were, and in the rich culture and stories of my ancestors. It is also an intense need to minimize myself and not self-identify as Asian. How can I celebrate Asian pride when I don’t know daily cultural rituals or the traditional way of mourning? When I’m learning more about my culture through novels and other kinds of media because it’s not something I instinctively know. When I don’t know how to make traditional food. When I can’t correctly pronounce words in my original language or my own Chinese name, and I need to download a language app to learn the basics like “how are you” and “my name is.”

How can I celebrate Asian pride, myself and my Asianness when I feel like a fraud? For so long, I identified more with the white community I grew up in and my mom’s white friends than with people of colour. I used to want to be white and have people view me as white, even though it’s obvious I’m not, especially when standing next to my family. I always chose the pretty blond Barbies; my ideal image was blonde and blue-eyed. I used to write stories where the main character was always white (either blonde or redhead). I would consume Western media where the Asian character, if there was one at all, was the stereotypical sidekick, such as the nerdy best friend who was just there. The books I read were used all about white characters exploring their stories, traumas, falling in love, and solving mysteries. Whatever the case, I would always surround myself with the white, Westernized character. Because that’s who I wanted to be, who I tried to be by minimizing my Asian heritage and my original family’s history, which still feels real despite being unknown to me. The stories are etched into my skin in invisible ink, and I just have to find the right light to read them. 

I have a shirt that says “Phenomenally Asian” that I love. Every time I put it on, especially during May, I hesitate, creating space for my doubts to grow. Am I really Asian enough to wear this to proclaim such a statement? To me, my upbringing and lack of knowledge of my culture suggest no. But I want to reclaim what I’ve lost, learn what I don’t know, and feel pride in this education. I want to reclaim my “Asianness” in a way that feels real, authentic and accessible to me.  

I’ve consumed and participated in Chinese events and celebrations, but they’ve always been Westernized and under the guise that they will be consumable to white people,  specifically white adoptive parents. The way I consume Asian culture feels so inauthentic and Westernized that I feel like I don’t have the right to claim the culture as mine. That I am no more than an outsider looking in, wanting to learn, wanting to appreciate. There’s no problem with that, but I also feel a deep longing to feel more of a part of the culture and the local Chinese community. Despite my upbringing in a white family and community and the privileges that proximity brings, I am still a Chinese woman. I have faced microaggressions and anxieties related to my position and identity. I have a Chinese family. I have a right to participate in my culture in a way that feels right. I just don’t know what that looks like yet, and thus, the crux of the problem.

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