Laura S. Gan,
Dublin, CA
I immigrated to the USA in 1979 when I was 1, as a refugee from what we in the USA call the Vietnam War. I have lived here for 44 out of my 45 years. When asked where I am from, I used to say China, because I unconsciously understood that they were asking my ethnicity. I got older, more educated, and more empowered. Now I say the literal truth. That I was born in New Zealand, after my mom was sponsored out of the Malaysian refugee camp. And everytime. Without fail. The follow up comment is, “No. Where are you really from?”. Nowadays, I don’t even bother to correct and say China. I just keep repeating New Zealand. When they finally get around to asking the question correctly and I say that I am Chinese, the next comment is always, “Oh, but your English is so good!”. Always stated with enthusiasm, and a pause, as they wait for me to “thank them for their compliment”. I have no desire to change the yellow color of my skin. And so, in their eyes, I will always be the other and I will never belong.
