ultranos | The Current Race Discussion and That Caught-in-the-Middle Feeling

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The Current Race Discussion and That Caught-in-the-Middle Feeling

(I don't know if I want this posted publicly, because I'm still not sure if this sounds like whining. But I need to get this off my chest. Help?)

ETA: After being assured that, hey, you're allowed to have your own perspective, I'm going to unlock this. Here's to hoping I don't regret this. Also, fixing spelling errors.

I saw

rydra_wong's link roundups of the current race discussion (here and here) and have been reading through them. Actually, let me be a little more honest: I first had to gather up my courage and then read them. Because I always get profoundly uncomfortable during race discussions.

And I was talking to

abyssinia4077 last night about it and was finally able to articulate why I'm uncomfortable and confused. It's not that I want to make it "all about me" or my interactions and perspectives. Actually, it's, I'm sort of ashamed to say, the opposite:

It's never about me.

Because, you see, in these discussions about race and being Othered, I never see anything from the perspective of those of us who are painfully caught in the middle. Those of us who have a foot in two worlds on the race discussion. Those of us who get scrutinized in sandwich shops at the check-out line and asked "what are you?" Those of us who always have that little moment of grief and confusion whenever we fill out a form and are asked to check one box for "Race".

Yes, I'm talking about the mixed kids.

In the course of my life, I have been asked if I am Italian, Spanish, Latina, Hispanic, Turkish, and I'm probably missing some. My brother has been asked if he's related to Saddam Hussein. (Yes, I'm serious. I seriously hope the kid was joking, but I remember feeling like I'd been punched in the gut when my little brother told me this.) We don't fit into people's little boxes. We're not "brown" enough to be immediately put into one of those boxes, but at the same time, we're not "white" enough to be obviously white.

I was pathetically grateful and amazed when one of my professors this past term was the very first person to correctly identify what my cultural and ethnic background was, after I explained that my last name is Slovak. It was the first time in my life where I didn't have to awkwardly explain that I was a product of Imperialism at its best, and by god the sun really hasn't set on the British Empire.

Because that's what I am. My mother's family came from India to the British colony of Guyana as indentured servants. And in that melting pot of the British Empire's sugar cane fields, they began stripping away some of those cultural things in order to survive. And then, in the 1960s, there were race riots in the country and clinging to Indian culture was the equivalent of painting a target on your head. And when my mother went to college, she went to a school in Canada (all hail the British Commonwealth), where she was mocked by a professor because of her accent.

Meanwhile, on my dad's side, the Slovak language has died with my great-grandmother. I grew up with only scraps of that culture, all of which can almost be held within Christmas Eve dinner, and even that I see slowly slipping through my fingers. And it hurts.

And because it hurts, I can empathize so much with people when they talk about being Othered, about feeling the negative effects of white privilege. And at the same time, I feel horribly awkward and guilty, because that's half of me. Because I don't immediately draw stares or whatever when walking down the street. Because I can "pass" at a glance. I may not be carrying an invisible knapsack, but damned if I don't feel like I'm carrying at least a satchel. Because I feel that weight. Because I feel like a horrible liar and a fake when I let people assume. When I "pass". Whenever I have to decide to BE one or the other. Because it always feels like I have to choose which side I'm going to be on.

Because I'm the kid caught in the middle. I'm the person with a foot in two worlds and belonging to none, and a cultural orphan to boot. (And I can get on a soapbox about American cultural appropriation etc, and how American "culture" is sometimes a bad thing, but dammit, it's the only one I have.)

When

shewhohashope wrote:

- There is no equivalence between the misrepresentation of Othered groups and the misreresentation of [insert white ethnicity]

No, really. It's about power imbalances and a dearth of decent representations. Think about five childhood heroes from novels that are the same race as you. I bet you can find more. Try to think about five that are South Asian. Arabic. Sub Saharan African? Call me back you're not drowning in decent representation of people who look like you.

I had a horrible moment of realization and it felt like a punch to the gut.

You see, I'm still trying to find one. Because there's never the story about the half-Slovak, half-Guyanese-Indian kid. Hell, let's be a little more broad: there's never the story about the half-Slavic, half-South Asian kid. Actually, I'm still trying to find the stories about the mixed kid in general. This is probably why I unconsciously clung to the half-Elven heroes in fantasy stories, because it was practically the closest I could get. Because at least there I got the cultural tug-of-war that IS being mixed.

And then there are those tiny little slaps that happen every time the rare mixed hero or heroine DOES grace the screen or print, and the comments come of how that character is "a cop-out". Mixed with white to be "more acceptable". How it isn't "really" a PoC. And how every single word just twists the dagger a little more.

Because I'm freaking invisible. Because I can't help but believe that some people would be a little more comfortable if people like me didn't exist. And I'm always afraid of these discussions on race to even speak up, because I'm afraid at best I'll get a pat on the head and at worst shoved aside and belittled because I "don't count".

And maybe they're right. Maybe they're not. I don't know. But it's been flying around, and I just needed to get this out because it's swirling in my head, and I DON'T NEED THIS on top of all these other identity issues I have right now.

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You've been metafandom'ed.

This is a beautiful post. Thank you.

I've never been metafandom'ed. I'm kind of scratching my head here. :)

Thank you.

You're not alone in your mixed heritage. *hugs* While I self-identify as Asian, and when pressed further Filipino, I'm mixed like whoa.

It is a horrible feeling when you're mixed and people place their labels you, depending on which 'side' you look more as. Yet even then it's you're not Asian enough or you're not white enough. I'm very fortunate in a way because I grew up in a large Filipino community in Hawaii and so anyone who had Filipino blood, even if their father/mother is white or black or which parent they looked like the most, they were still considered Filipino, period. My cousins never grew up with the mentality that they weren't 'enough' because of their mixed ethnicities or looks.

*nods* That's really great about where you grew up. Me, actually, it's really interesting. The neighborhood I grew up in was fairly diverse. In fact, the family next door whose kids I grew up playing with were a mixed-race family; the kids were Japanese-white. And another neighbor was Puerto Rican and another was white, etc. So, really, home was seriously a place free from labels. Once I got beyond the neighborhood, though, well. That's when I encountered the labeling phenomenon and the "are you [blank] enough to be considered [whatever]?"

Thank you for posting this. And unlocking it.

Thank you for reading. And you're welcome.

Those of us who have a foot in two worlds on the race discussion. Those of us who get scrutinized in sandwich shops at the check-out line and asked "what are you?" Those of us who always have that little moment of grief and confusion whenever we fill out a form and are asked to check one box for "Race".

I feel horribly awkward and guilty, because that's half of me

You aren't the only one. You have managed to articulate many of the things I have been feeling about this whole discussion but have been too nervous to talk about. Thank you.

I refuse to feel guilty about it. I was born. It is not my fault that I'm not really one or the other thing all of the way. I refuse to feel guilty about anything I didn't personally do.

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ultranos-fic.livejournal.com - 2009-01-20 20:54 (UTC) - Expand

I'm adopted and don't even know what I am exactly. Only that people speak to me in Spanish on the street and don't believe me when I say I don't understand them till I answer in some other language that's not English and then they nod, thinking they get it, only I learned Japanese, the one I usually use, as an adult.

I'm loud about Jewish stuff and queer stuff because I know who I am in those conversations, but basically, while I have white privilege in that I was raised by white people (there are class issues, of course, and how much white privilege I get depends upon what people see when they look at me, which varies by how I am dressed or something like that), I also have weird memories of conversations with my father about "what to say when people say you're not actually white" which boiled down to "You are white! you are you are you are!" as if saying it enough times would make it true, despite the fact that I look kinda mixed and am almost certainly some kind of mutt :)

When I travel in Eastern Europe people think I'm a local; when I travel in Asia people think I'm half-Asian a lot, but I don't really know. And I won't, ever. The information isn't there. I know who my biological mother was, but the father was never identified.

Whatever. I like to say I don't care.

(I still don't understand what any of this has to do with a faerie creature that isn't actually of any human race and was only pretending to be a black person because it, with no knowledge of the black experience, simply thought that would make it prettier. And I don't think I want to know either.)

Edited 2009-01-20 18:24 (UTC)

I also have weird memories of conversations with my father about "what to say when people say you're not actually white" which boiled down to "You are white! you are you are you are!" as if saying it enough times would make it true

I once got into a very loud argument with a boy over this in grade school. He kept insisting I was white and accused me of denying it. I was bewildered, because I went to school small enough where everyone pretty much knew everyone else's family. Put it simply: he had met my mother before. And there is NO WAY anyone (unless they were blind) could mistake her for not being a PoC. Anyway, it got bad enough that the boy dragged the principal into it. Um...yeah. That was a special day.

And the thing is, yes, I am who I am regardless of the color of my skin. And whatever that means, I'm okay with that. It's just that it can become painful and frustrating when the rest of the world tries to shove me in a box. I don't like boxes. I don't do boxes. I tend to blow them up.

(I've never read, nor even held, the books that started this thing, so I'm not going to touch on that. But some people saw something that pinged wrong with them with how a character was presented, and, well, these people are smarter than me about literary criticism. Especially since I haven't touched the stuff since high school. So I believe them when they say that something wasn't right, and especially since the author in question agreed with the criticism.)

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cleverthylacine - 2009-01-21 02:11 (UTC) - Expand

Here via metafandom! I just wanted to say that I really appreciate your posting! However, I do think that the emphasis on race in everyday life is an American thing. I'm half Mexican, half Austrian and I pass in about every country in Europe as a native (perhaps not in Scandinavia or the former Eastern Block but everywhere else). And when I went to the US last time, I found that this is much more an issue there than it is here. Nowhere in Europe (at least not in Austria and Germany and I think it's the same in the whole European Union) you have to fill out forms stating your 'race'. It'd be considered racism if any government tried that and I think that many people would check 'black' just for the heck of it. I was only ever confronted with this on an airplane heading for Atlanta when I had to check 'Hispanic' on the immigration form.

I always wanted black hair like my mum. I have to admit that only in the US I learnt to appreciate the fact that it is brown. I think that's sad.

(and I, since there are no Euro-Latinas anywhere in YA or fantasy literature, I never even looked for it. I was already content if the heroine was not blond or red-haired, as most are, and had blue or green eyes. I suppose that's why I identified most with Spock and spent most of my money on manga. At least these girls looked like me)

I'm learning that the race ticky box thing seems to be an American phenomenon. Actually, that kind of makes be glad that it's not such a hang-up in the rest of the world.

(Hah, yeah. Me too on the YA and lit heroines. And eventually, I too moved to video games and manga. Of course, when games are localized there are other fun issues of racism that crop up (Persona 2 translation, I'm looking at you).)

As a mixed-race person I find your post very interesting. Being mixed race and the place of mixed-race people are things I think about all the time.

You make a lot of good points here. I just wanted to say something about forms. I am 39 years old and I live in California. Growing up I had that dilemma about filling out forms, but as an adult (and the mother of mixed-race children) I find that all the forms have the option of checking more than one box for race. From school forms to health-care forms, they all have a way to express being mixed race.

There are a lot of mixed-race people in California. For the last 20 years in the county where I was born, Sacramento County, 1 in 5 babies are born to parents of different races. Other parts of the country are different. I lived on the east coast for 15 years and during that time most people could not immediately identify me as mixed race on sight. In California a lot of people know, just by looking at me, that I am mixed white and Asian.

*nods* That's a good point, because it is changing. I've noticed it, slowly, changing even during my schooling. More and more, I do see the option of checking more than one. But, that being said, when I was applying to colleges 5-6 years ago, I had to choose one more often than not. Maybe it's more because I lived in the Midwest and was applying to schools in the Midwest or on the east coast, instead of California. *shrug*

But I'm glad you're telling me that it IS different in some places of the country. :) I love being proved wrong about stuff like this. :) (Seriously, I do. I like learning.)

Thank you so much.

I look and sound white, to the point of having people ask if I was German or English - I have a few distant German ancestors, and am mostly Celtic, with some Hispanic, Native American, and some mid-Appalachian white. I have cousins who are black and Italian. Like you, American culture is almost all I have - none of the language, except for a few family names, practically none of the culture except for stories. Not even the religion.

When I was in elementary school, I was told, by a black student I liked and admired, that Halloween came from the white supremacist group the Ku Klux Klan. Hearing that felt like a slap. I've had classmates casually ignore me talking about the KKK burning a cross on my great-grandparents' lawn, but pay rapt attention to a black student's entirely fictitious story about the KKK. I've had people carelessly remark that they disapprove of racial intermarriage. A classmate is half-Asian, and all Catholic. Another is a Middle-Eastern atheist who wears the hijab for cultural reasons. And I've never figured out what I'm supposed to say in race discussions - am I supposed to recuse myself because I look white, or because I don't still have the cultural background?

I didn't mean to go on quite so long, but thank you again for posting.

Whenever I hear someone carelessly someone yell "go back to your own country", even if it's not aimed at me, it hurts. Because, you know, America IS our country. There's no place else where a lot of us could even exist. Such a diverse place and yet, some people don't see that. But it also means that some of us have no other cultural background.

And until I wrote this post, I had no idea what to say in race discussions. When they came up in high school debate (yeah, I was a debate kid), I found myself on the side of PoC, because, well, let's just say it was very, very painful to listen to the suburban white boy whine about how all the affirmative action kids would ruin his chances to get into college. *facepalm* (Nothing against suburban white kids! Just...that attitude annoys me.) But it felt sometimes that I was forced into it. Until now, I've never really owned it.

I'm liking owning who I am a lot more now.

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arresi.livejournal.com - 2009-01-22 03:53 (UTC) - Expand

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ultranos-fic.livejournal.com - 2009-01-22 03:58 (UTC) - Expand

This is made of awesome. Thanks so much for writing this, from a Latina who gets "Hey, what are you?*" comments all the time and now frets about helping her own half-White children navigate their racial identity. Sigh.

P.S. HUGE props for writing about the guilty little privilege-satchel of passing. I wrote about a lifetime spent passing for the last IBARW and was amazed by how much it hurt to even talk about it, to admit it in text.

*(Or, as someone asked me recently at the gym, "Hey, what are you mixed with?")

The "what are you" comments are kind of mindboggling, aren't they? In that, is it really that important to the other person that they have to ask?

People baffle me at times.

Here via a post at slavefics (http://community.livejournal.com/orig_slavefic/139355.html) that mentions your post.

(1) I have a hidden disability (I'm partially sighted, but people can't tell it by looking at me). (2) I've been Other in various ways unrelated to race throughout my life, again, usually without people being able to guess. And (3) I routinely include mixed-race and mixed-nationality characters in my stories.

I hadn't thought about it till I read your post, but (3) probably follows from (1) and (2). My first mixed-nationality novel, Blood Vow (http://duskpeterson.com/threelands/#bloodvow) - which eventually turned into a fantasy series (http://duskpeterson.com/threelands/) with a lot of characters of different skin-colors, including several characters with one light-skinned parent and one dark-skinned parent - was originally drafted when I was sixteen. At that age I was still feeling like the social pariah I'd been in my junior-high years - I'd gone to a school for the emotionally disturbed for a while, which meant that, hurrah, my bus got to go past armed guards every morning, and the guards weren't there to keep the bad guys out of our school; they were there to keep us from leaving school and doing bad things to the good guys. I was still feeling like a caged animal in high school, even though, to all outward appearances, I was part of mainstream society, because I knew that I was still Other in various ways that people hadn't yet guessed.

My protagonist in "Blood Vow" is someone who's caught between two cultures and feels frustrated that he must choose between them. I very deliberately did not create racial tension in the world I was writing about - I'd grown up in an atmosphere of racial tension, and I wanted to see what a world would be like where race wasn't one of the things causing division. But there are definitely national and cultural divisions in this world, which are silently reflected by differences in skin color. And some of the characters - whether they are of mixed blood or not - find themselves in a position of divided loyalties between the different national cultures.

So to me these racial discussions in fandom will be beneficial if they inspire people to go out and write a bunch of good fic - or to realize they need to rewrite older fic - but not if the discussions stop people from writing stories out of fear of offending someone.

Oh, and by the way, the "one box only" checking thing? Totally identify. I'm androgynous. :)

I hope you forgive me for never having heard of your novel, but I have to say that the back-of-the-book blurb intrigued me, so I'm probably going to check it out. So thanks for that.

More related to the content of your comment, though, is that I'm kind of amused at how much this post of mine has resonated with people, and how people who don't come from the same exact situation as me are still able to draw analogies to their own experience. And it makes me glad too.

And I think you're right. Discussions like these should inspire people to write or rewrite things, and if they fail, fail better next time. I think these discussions can make people more aware of things that can cause offense, so, logically, one could avoid doing the thing that causes offense.

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duskpeterson.livejournal.com - 2009-01-21 18:39 (UTC) - Expand

Oh man don't ever think you're not brave cos you are. I wish I had more to tell you beyond the fact you've really made me think a lot.

Thank you.

Late to the party here w/the comment, but thanks for writing this. I'm mixed too (Filipina/Finnish) & can identify w/some of what you wrote here.

I've seen Asian activists online say that people like me are the purest expression of self-hate on the part of Asians (ie. they hate themselves so much & want to be white so much they went & found white people to have kids w/as the next best thing), ugh. OTOH when an Asian character in Miss Saigon (which, ok, a totally problematic musical to begin w/) got changed into a mixed character so that a white actor could play him in yellowface, well... that's not okay!

Anyway. Yeah. I get really happy when I see references to mixed kids in stories (tho' like you, I don't really see m/any super close to my own background--there was a Finnish/Filipino couple in Johanna Sinisalo's Troll but it was an abusive, mail-order bride situation *sigh*) too. :/

Thanks for reading.

Yeah, I've heard that too about the self-hate. Not to my face, but, yeah. I've heard it. And you're right about that Miss Saigon thing (on both accounts).

I was always ridiculously happy to find references to mixed kids in stories. Although I never found anything close to my own background, so I sort of cheered for the mixed character in general. (And then got horribly sad whenever something terrible happened to them or they were a caricature.)

(deleted comment)

Thanks.

I'm still kind of shocked actually that people found what I had to say valuable enough. It makes me wish I had a snappier title for this thing. :)

And you're right: the reward is in other people finding this useful, either as something they've never though about before, or giving them the strength to speak up for themselves. I didn't set out to do that, but apparently, I did. I'm not complaining.

Really, really late to the party. I've been following links like crazy and not sure how I got here, or why I got here so late (i.e. why I didn't find a link to this until now,) but I'm very glad I found your post.

I'm 51, Latina/White and, through the miracle of genetics, less white-appearing than my siblings, although not quite not-white appearing, if you follow. I not only have a disconnect with the world at large, but also with my siblings who both identify as white, while I never have. I was somehow "other" in my own family (although I will say my family didn't do anything to foster that feeling; it was wholly internal.)

I just deleted a half-dozen paragraphs because I was, of course, making this all about me. I'll change what I was going to say to just this: Yes, the checking the box thing; yes, the foot in two worlds thing; yes, the invisible satchel; YES And then there are those tiny little slaps that happen every time the rare mixed hero or heroine DOES grace the screen or print, and the comments come of how that character is "a cop-out". Mixed with white to be "more acceptable". How it isn't "really" a PoC. And how every single word just twists the dagger a little more.

Because I'm freaking invisible. Because I can't help but believe that some people would be a little more comfortable if people like me didn't exist.

Thank you for articulating all of this and for having the wherewithall to post it. Yeah, thank you.

Thank you.

[I'm still kind of surprised at how this was received by everyone. I certainly didn't expect as many people to read it and relate and say "oh wow, me too". (If I did, I'd have come up with a snappier title.)]

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loupgarou1750.livejournal.com - 2009-02-04 19:42 (UTC) - Expand

Thank you. Is it all right for me to have linked to your post? I got all link-happy in the past 24 hours and realised just now that I really need to ask permission.

(Late to reading; arrived via ryrda_wong's links.)

Thank you for reading.

I don't mind you linking, so go for it.

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ajollypyruvate - 2009-02-09 06:22 (UTC) - Expand

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ultranos-fic.livejournal.com - 2009-02-09 13:28 (UTC) - Expand

I just read this right now and cried. A lot. Reading this brought up so many emotions for me that I haven't really had to confront yet.

I am half-white and half-Taiwanese. Early on in my life, I definitely identified as being Taiwanese. Between me and my baby sister, I was designated as being the more chinky-looking one. I embraced that side of myself: instead of the typical fantasy books that my friends read, I read cartoon adaptations of classical Chinese literature. And Buddhist scriptures, too! I doubt that I really "got" them in the sense that I was supposed to. But that was who I was. I guess it didn't really help that I was a pretty quiet, shy kid, who liked math and science and basically fit exactly into the Chinese student stereotype.

But then I went through puberty and started looking whiter. When I got to high school, things were different. Most of my friends were Asian, and I guess I felt that my "whiteness" stood out more. And I lived for 2 months in Taiwan, on my own, and everybody there identified me as white. I would try to talk to them in Mandarin, and they would talk back to me in English. The worst was when people would comment on the shape of my eyes, and how "pretty" they were. I just wanted to curl up and die from guilt when that happened.

But slowly, I began to absorb these messages, and I came to think of myself as being white, not Asian. I absorbed the little messages that told me my hair was a little too white and my eyes were a little too wide for me to be Asian. I also absorbed the messages that told me that being Asian wasn't being a real POC, which contributed even more to my sense of being just another white hipster liberal. Which I just might be. I don't know anymore. I used to joke that I could get all the benefits of white privilege, and, at the same time, get the satisfaction of being able to make other white people feel guilty.

I'm in college now, and I've suddenly felt myself drawn to East Asian Studies. Relearning about the cultural heritage I've denied for so long has just confused me more than it's helped me. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what little box to pick. All I know is that I'm fucking sick of being jerked back and forth between my two halves and being expected to pick one.

I've been following this LJ cultural appropriation debate and been feeling a profound sense of discomfort. It's all just been another instance of me being expected to pick a side. Am I the self-righteously angry minority, or the ignorant, pansy-ass white liberal? Well, fuck it all. Why should I even be allowed into this debate? I'm not a real white person, and I'm sure as hell not a real POC either. (Because, as we all know, Asians are Fake Minorities(TM) anyway.)

I didn't mean to write a fucking essay. I'm really sorry for making this all about me, when it's really about all of us. I guess I just read this at a critical point. I just wanted you to know that this essay affected me a lot. Thanks.

I didn't mean to write a fucking essay. I'm really sorry for making this all about me, when it's really about all of us.

I don't mind, really. And you know, when I posted this, I thought I was just going to be shouting out into the ether. I didn't really expect anyone to answer back. But I am. And I'm hearing about other people telling me their stories or how they think of things and you know what? It's telling us that we're not alone. Because it is about all of us, it's about all our stories.

I think this is my semi-philosophical before-coffee attempt to say "don't apologize for telling me how much my poor attempt at articulating this big heavy issue affected you and why". (I'm an engineering student; I'm not nearly as good with words as other people in this entire debate have been)

I've been following this LJ cultural appropriation debate and been feeling a profound sense of discomfort. It's all just been another instance of me being expected to pick a side.

*nods* I've seen other ones, smaller ones than this current one, and I always had that profound sense of discomfort. I always kept my mouth shut because I couldn't figure out where the hell I was supposed to fit, and what side I'd be "betraying" if I chose, or would I just be a poser, or what. This current debate, well, I just flat-out gave up and said "fuck it, I'm tired of this".

You might enjoy reading "Dreams from my Father" by Barak Obama, which talked quite a lot about being caught in the middle on racial issues.

This is an awesome, thought-provoking post.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thanks for writing this.

I can't 'pass,' myself--I'm Filipino/Italian, and while I might have some Italian facial features I'm still brown and look Filipino--but I was raised in Western society with the Flip half of my heritage completely ignored. So I feel you--we're stuck in the middle, unrepresented, and awkward all at once.

Thanks.

The middleground is never very fun, is it?

Oh my god. I've been reading back through

rydra_wong's links, and this. So much this.

Thank you for putting it into words like this.

You're welcome. And thank you.

Thank you so much for unlocking it, and ten times as much for writing it in the first place.

Reading it brought vivid memories of hearing Lani Kaahumanu read Hapa Haole Wahine (http://www.lanikaahumanu.com/hapahaole.shtml) back in the late eighties/early nineties sometime.

Keep talking. Keep telling. I mean, do whatever you need to do, at whatever pace, but oh, I'm so glad this is there. Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you.

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