The more I learn about race, the less I understand it. Apparently neither do dictionaries. Oxford names it “each of the major divisions of humankind, having distinct physical characteristics.” Merriam-Webster calls it “a class or kind of people unified by shared interests, habits, or characteristics.” Which one is more archaic? Neither of them seem relevant to the way race affects lives today and in the past century.
Race today brings thoughts of oppression and discrimination, neither to which I’ve ever been subject. In fact, I’ve benefited greatly from white privilege. I suppose I have my mother to thank for that, but I’m not sure it’s appropriate to say that she comes from the white “race.” She’s Danish, which means her grandparents came from Denmark, which means their ancestors probably came from Germany, Britain, and a sprinkling of other parts of Europe during the 8th, 9th, and 10th centuries of the Vikings.
My father is “Chinese,” which means he comes from a Portland, Oregon. His father was born in Hong Kong, but grew up in Canton (“old” English for Guangzhou, on the southeastern coast), as did my grandmother. But that doesn’t say much about either of their origins, as Canton was likely frequented by foreigners at sea, just as it is today. Which means their ancestors were probably a bit pacific islander, Portuguese and European as well. Maybe even a bit viking Danish!
I remember growing up thinking I was just like the other “white” kids in my sterile suburban neighborhood. I never really considered the race issue; people didn’t seem to treat me differently. The first time I noticed a difference was when at a soccer game when I was eight. At half-time, I was looking for kids on other teams to hang out with and got called brownie by the white kids and whitey by the asian kids. That left me a bit confused.
But I’m the type to just brush my shoulders off. So I told my mom about it, cried a minute, and promptly ignored the issue for the next 15 years until after I got married to a nice German-Polish-and-a-bit-of-everything-else-girl from Chicago. While we were watching Law and Order, she turned to me and asked, “are we an interracial couple?” What a strange question, I thought. I told her, “sure, why not?” and promptly forgot about the whole race thing for another few years.
Recently, though, I’ve come to think that my mixed ethnicity affects me more than I have thought. Just like at that soccer game, I don’t find myself hanging out with a lot of asian people, or white people, or any other kind of people for that matter. In fact, the people I’ve gotten along with best in my life have been a mix of Oxford’s “distinct physical characteristics.” And honestly, I have no idea why that is. Maybe we just naturally feel more comfortable around people who look like ourselves. Perhaps its that simple. Or perhaps the bit of knowledge that I did have about my racial differences biased me towards certain people, though I can’t say I ever thought too deeply about the issue until now.
The other thing that bothers me about thinking about race is that it seems like there’s little I can do about it, at least for myself. What kind of actionable conclusion could I possible come to after such long deliberation on the topic? That I am treated differently and I need to watch for it? I don’t really want to be paranoid. I could decide its not an issue for me, and then focus on the racial oppression of others. I could funnel my thoughts into an elitist mantra about how my kind are taking over the world and popular media…
But none of these seem all that enlightening. I’m me. The individualist’s tautology. There isn’t a label for my mix, and I can deal with that. It leaves me free to define myself.
