ambiguous Archives - The Race Card Project

Ambiguous ethnic origin depending on place

February 28, 2024February 28, 2024 ambiguous, Bowie, DMV, ethnic, MD, Melissa, Mexican Hat Dance, origin

Melissa
Bowie, MD

It wasn’t until I moved to the DMV (the Washington DC metro area, for the uninitiated), that I began to chafe under assumed ethnic identities. I have great examples: waiting for the metro and a metro employee sings the “Mexican Hat Dance” behind me; taking my (blonde) kids to the park and having the other moms assume I am the nanny; an Egyptian man talking to me about “people like us.” It really came to the fore for me when I tried to board a specially chartered plane bound for Poland but operated by El-Al, the Israeli airline. I was stopped, over and over again, at each checkpoint just trying to get to the plane. I was questioned; I was sequestered. I was under intense scrutiny. Finally, I simply asked: why me? The young guard looking over my passport said: “You look like you have an ‘ambiguous ethnic origin.'”

You’re lucky you look ambiguously minority.

October 3, 2023October 3, 2023 accomplish, ambiguous, CO, Cristina Gonzales, Denver, Minority, quota, seed of doubt, statistic, sucess, you look

Cristina Gonzales,
Denver, CO.

All throughout my life I’ve worked hard to succeed only to wonder if any success, any award, any accomplishment was truly earned, or if I am just helping someone make a quota, create a statistic, or justify an extra dollar or two. The worst is having a seed of doubt planted in the moments you feel most proud of yourself, at first by others…but then by yourself.

Racially Ambiguous and Tired Of Explaining

October 10, 2021October 20, 2021 1934, African American, ambiguous, Courage, Fair Oaks Ranch, illegal, Melanie Cowart, miscegenation, protests, proud, Racially ambiguous, TX

Melanie Cowart,
Fair Oaks Ranch, TX.

My parents were married in 1934 when miscegenation was illegal in most states. Until I was older, I didn’t realize how much courage it took for them to be together. My mother, who was white, raised her two daughters, now 80 and 62, to be proud African-American women. I’m so sorry she did no live to see the election of President Obama, another child of mixed heritage but who associates more with the African-American community. The hardest part about being racially ambiguous is always having to explain who I am to other African-Americans. Even in 2015, I walk into a room and the conversation stops, while everyone questions in their minds, ” Who’s the white girl?” For all our protests about discrimination, African-Americans can be the most prejudice of their own race. Someone once told me the prejudice stems from plantation times when lighter slaves worked in the house and darker slaves in the field, a technique used by plantation owners to create a division. Well, must we as a race hold onto those old plantation stereotypes? All members of the human race need to be as accepting of each other as my parents were when it wasn’t even considered morally or legally acceptable to ignore skin color.

Doctor asked, “What is your race?”

February 1, 2018August 31, 2021 African American, ambiguous, check the box, Cincinnati, doctor, health, Leslie Lannan, OH, Race, what is your race

Leslie Lannan,
Cincinnati, OH.

It’s amazing how desperate we are in America to racially categorize our citizens based on how they look. My six words are a reference to a recent doctor’s visit. After discussing my ailments and general health, the doctor had one more question for me. “What is your race?” she asked. I was totally nonplussed; I do not (at least I think) look ambiguous in terms of race – I’m clearly African-American. I asked her if she was curious about my ethnic background, and she said yes. I was able to give her all of the details, since I’ve had DNA testing done for genealogy purposes, but to this day I cannot say what made her ask this question.

Too ambiguous to fit in anywhere.

October 7, 2016October 7, 2016 ambiguous, biological, Black, fit in, KS, Largo, Latine, MD, Tasha L.

Tasha L.,
Largo, MD.

I am adopted, raised by a half French/half Black mother and full-blooded Sicilian father. I am half Black, quarter Indian (India) and quarter white in my biological heritage. I am told I look Latina or white, “definitely not Black,” and have always noticed I seem to confuse people when they try to categorize me ethnically.
-Them: Where are your parents from?
-Me: California.
-Them: No, where did they COME from?
-Me: Italy and Kansas….
Can’t label me when you look at me, guess it makes some folk uncomfortable. All I ever felt from those questions is: “You don’t look like us.”…”what ARE you?”…”You don’t act like….”
Tiring, but stealthily, sneakily, my secret weapon. Can turn on the whiteness when surrounded by people uncomfortable with people who are clearly people of color, but can turn on my biracial identity when I want to connect with cultures and other persons of color. A racial chameleon. What am I when the labels disappear?

Half Indian, Half German, totally American

July 4, 2016July 4, 2016 ambiguous, American, CA, German, Half, Indian, Oakland

Marika
Oakland, CA

People often ask me “What are you?” or “Where are you from?” which is par for the course for people like me who are ambiguously brown looking, which is how I’ve come to refer to myself. Over time I’ve noticed my attitude toward other people who ask these questions changing. I used to be sort of confused about how to answer, then I became bored and sometimes frustrated with the questions, but now I don’t get caught up in the wording of the question, and I give people the kindness of assuming their questions come from a place of curiosity, which they usually do, which is actually pretty sweet. Funny thing is that my *white* friends get outraged when they hear these questions now… they even retell the stories with a little self-righteousness of their own: “Oh GOD Marika and I were just at the bar and someone asked her ‘How’d you get so tan?’ What the f*ck, God people are just so RUDE, isn’t that messed up?” and I laugh because truth is, I don’t mind anymore. It’s funny to answer with “From my parents” (which someone once heard as “From Paris,” making things that much more confusing). I love telling people where I’m from, and what I am, it’s great to have the opportunity to talk about my family — my Indian dad who was born and raised in Tanzania, my mom born in Germany, daughter of a German woman had a love affair with an American soldier during WWII, the grandfather I never met. It’s even more fun to confess a love of Miami bass and the 2 Live Crew (I grew up in Florida), admit that I’ve never been to an Indian wedding and hardly know a word of German. I’m so American, and it’s so funny at times, so fun. I’m lucky to live in oakland CA though, a place where being mixed is the norm and people usually ask their questions with the utmost consciousness. Sometimes the people who ask them even look like me!

You’re not asian,You’re White.

August 27, 2015August 27, 2015 ambiguous, Asian, belong, brown, Durham, heritage, Kristine Ratanaphruks, NC, pass, Thai, white, You're not

Kristine Ratanaphruks
Durham, NC

I look ethnically ambiguous and, at times, I pass for white. I grew up watching white men call my father “boy” — I’ve heard countless racist remarks made by people who don’t realize my heritage — I’ve heard the question ” What are you? ” too many times to count and I’ve wanted to wash the brown off my skin because I thought it made me look dirty. I am Thai-Irish American and regardless of how you’ve decided to categorized me, I’ll never be part of the white world because I’ve been reminded enough to know that I don’t belong in it.

Can’t fit me in a box!

August 17, 2015August 17, 2015 ambiguous, Arlington, category, check the box, Creole, fit in a box, human nature, identify, identity, Myriah, Sicilian, unique, VA, what are you

Myriah,
Arlington, VA.

All my life I’ve gotten the “what are you?” question. It seems to be human nature to try and categorize people in order to identify them better somehow. Being French Creole and Sicilian, I have always loved being racially ambiguous, because my identity goes way beyond man made categories. I am physically part of my families roots, but I am also a product of the neighborhood I grew up in, the music I listened to, and the many diverse friends and neighbors I surrounded myself with. Our identities cannot be summed up in a checked box. It is a beautiful, unique, and multidimensional puzzle. 🙂

My son racially ambiguous, fate unknown

May 1, 2015May 1, 2015 ambiguous, fate, Katherine McDowell, OR, Portland, racial, son

Katherine McDowell
Portland, OR

Ambiguously different from everyone else. Stereotypes.

April 17, 2014 Airforce, ambiguous, bi-cultural, bi-racial, different, Grand Forks, North Dakota, OR, Oregon, Portland, School USA, stereotype, USA

Jessica Winfrey
Portland, OR

I am biracial and bicultural and was educated for the first 6 years in a very diverse school on an air force base in North Dakota. After my parents divorced, my mom and I moved into the neighboring town, which was predominately white. I recall being warned ahead of time that my race and culture would be questioned by my peers, but there was no way to prepare for all I had to go through. I was one of a handful of students who weren’t white, so this difference brought on a lot of unwanted attention. I was constantly asked by my peers and staff “what nationality are you?”, “what are you?”, and “is it true…?”, among many other things. Since I am mixed, their inability to determine just what exactly I was made me invisible and yet also made everyone hyper aware of me. I had unequal access to activities and classes as compared to my white peers, and stereotypes and disrespect was a constant.

Ambiguous Brown Girl with Big Hair

March 19, 2014 ambiguous, big hair, brown, CA, Caty Salas, hair, Oakland, PC, Peruvian

Caty Salas
Oakland, CA

Being a guessing game gets old. PC-ness has cut down on questions like “What are you?”, “What color are you?”, and “Is that really your hair?”, all of which used to sincerely baffle me when I was a kid. Now they just ask me where I’m from. Endlessly. I am from here. From Oakland. Maybe I’ll tell you my father is Peruvian. Maybe I won’t. But may I ask, why do you ask?

Something other: ambiguous race, ambiguous identity.

September 24, 2013 ambiguous, Fillipino, FL, heritage, identfy, identity, Medican, mixed, Race, Rachel Crooks, Tallahassee

Rachel Crooks
Tallahassee, FL

As a woman with a Mexican mother (“Mexican” to signify “mixed race,” although my mother has been identified by some as being Native American or Filipino or ‘Asian’) and a Jamaican father (his ethnicity is never questioned, though his nationality is reduced to ‘African American’), I grew up in a strange position. My parents’ families immigrated to the U.S. when they were young and they were taught to assimilate or else. Later this would culminate in my lack of knowledge about my heritage, both Mexican and Jamaican, and my inability to speak Spanish.

Some people think I speak Spanish based on my appearance. Yet some people think I am Indian or half-Asian, or half-white, or Hawaiian, or Egyptian. I have been identified as being various ethnicities simulatenously, while people tell me my brother looks “Arabic.” These identities that are imposed on myself and my brother come from stereotypes and maybe from some people’s knowledge of what particular ethnicites look like. No one ever asked me what I identified as until I got into college and that is when I realized that I did not identify with my Mexican and Jamaican heritages because I knew so little about either.

People may try to identify you or tell you how you should assimilate into a greater “American” culture. I think it’s best to identify with your ethnicity, whether mixed or not, by educating yourself. Every day I try to teach myself about Mexican and Jamaican cultures. Even though people question my ethnicity with an alarming frequency, at least I know now that I can honestly say I identify with my two mixed ethnicities.

So ambiguous, a different race everyday.

June 22, 2013 ambiguous, Ann Arbor, check the box, MI, Race

Mintii
Ann Arbor, MI

You ask me my race just to comfort your mind because it’s hard for me to fit in a box. I can say anything to you and it would please your curiosity.

“Ethnically Ambiguous” shouldn’t prompt guessing games.

June 10, 2013 ambiguous, Ana Byers, Ashland, dehumanizing, ethnic, games, OR

Ana Byers
Ashland, OR

It is tiresome, rude and de-humanizing to be stopped by strangers so they can guess “where I am from.” It is even more tiresome to be told that my answer is unacceptable and must be a lie when I reply I am from Washington state.

You mean to say Native American

May 19, 2013 ambiguous, Ann Arbor, India, Indian, long hair, MI, Native American, pony-tail, Seattle, Swapnil Deopurkar, WA

Swapnil Deopurkar
Seattle, WA

I moved from India to Ann Arbor, Michigan; age 26, male, long hair, parted down the middle and with a pony tail. My first day at the bus stop, started a conversation with an African American undergrad. The conversation abruptly halted with me saying “I am Indian..” and he interrupting “..you mean Native American..”, sounding almost offended.

I went “Do you see the irony of this situation? Europeans came to this continent and mis-took it for my country, and here we are 400 years later playing the same misunderstanding in reverse”

The long hair and pony tail had to go. Companies don’t hire MBAs that look like biker gang members of ambiguous ethnicity.

You don’t look like you’re Chinese.

February 14, 2013February 14, 2013 ambiguous, appearance, Chinese, Half, look, washington dc

Jess
Washington DC

My mom is Chinese. My dad is white. I am half-Chinese, but my appearance is ambiguous. I feel like I have to “come out” as half-Chinese in certain contexts. For instance, being part of a group of people who acknowledge lack of diversity or a group of people SEEKING diversity. Race is not always apparent at first glance and neither is diversity.

My son racially ambiguous, fate unknown

November 6, 2012 ambiguous, fate, Katherine McDowell, mother, OR, Portland, Race, racially, son, unknown

Katherine McDowell
Portland, OR

My background? Why do you ask?

July 31, 2012 ambiguous, ashamed, background, Canada, looks, Race, reaction

Em
Canada

This is a constant and terrible icebreaker. It’s not that I’m ashamed or shy about my mixed background or ambiguous looks, but I’m constantly disappointed that that’s all that people want to know, that’s all they see me as, or they believe they can’t know me without knowing my race.

Join the Newsletter

Info

Join our community