The Race Card Project
By Michele Norris
Zan Koh,
Singapore.
I’m not certain if I’m Japanese or Mediterranean, considering the fact that my Family`s tree on both sides are as mixed and a little dodgy on some instances; but still whilst I pass for, most of time at least- Japanese- its always fascinating to know what has led up to You and where you are.
Katherine Suszczewicz
USA
When you don’t know, your imagination will choose to make something up. Over and over again.
Patricia Lee,
Cortez, CO
When people find out that my father was Chinese and my mother was Japanese, they sometimes ask if I am trilingual. Nope. I try to explain that they did not speak each others’ languages, either. English was the language of our household, as if by tacit understanding it was “neutral territory” languagewise.
My parents remembered that those two countries had fought each other. In fact, my father sometimes referred to Japanese as “red devils”. Fights tended to dredge up such garbage. My brother and I kept our mouths shut and our only language, American English.
What White people sometimes are ignorant of is that Asia contains MANY countries, some of whom regard another as an enemy even when any military war was over long ago.
Walls can be made by things other than skin color.
Lauren
Via “Visualizing Change at “PROOF” – The National Geographic Blog about Photography and Culture
To me it’s not about race, it’s about culture. I am 1/4 Japanese, and don’t look the least bit Asian (though my brother does). I grew up in America, but with my mom growing up in Japan, she passed down the culture. I was raised practicing Japanese traditions, eating the foods, watching the movies, learning the language. I feel more Japanese than American in some ways. I used to wish I looked at least a tiny bit Asian so I could have some visual hint of the race I so identified with. I’m also a mixture of other backgrounds including Irish, German and English. My 6 words about race? “In my blood, not my face.” It’s about how we identify ourselves inside, not how we look that identifies us.
Katelyn Tsukada
Northampton, MA
My mother is of Irish and Italian heritage; my father of Japanese descent. Both of my parents were born in the United States as were their parents before them. Both consider themselves to be American as documented by their passports, drivers licenses and birth certificates. My mother and father speak English has their first and only language. And the American child they created and raised together? Well she constantly gets asked where she is “really” from because New York State is never the correct answer.
I learned to identify myself as Asian-American because that is how others categorized me. My classmates assumed Asian was the reason I got good grades. Asian was the reason I liked seafood and tanned like an islander. And Asian was the reason my grandmother was made to live in an internment camp directly following the attack on Pearl Harbor. My history. Asian history. The rich Irish-Italian culture of my mother’s family never stood a chance.
Jessica Seargeant,
Bellevue, WA.
I am half Japanese and half Caucasian. I’ve been told I’m not Asian enough by Asians and not “white” enough by Caucasians. I’ve been accused of choosing between my races when it suits me and advised to just say I’m “white.” Why can’t I just be both?
Livia Messenger,
Northhampton, MA.
Smith College
Before I told you my grandmother was from Japan, I wasn’t Asian to you. I’m white. I don’t speak Japanese. I’ve never been to Japan, worn a kimono, or even met my Japanese relatives. I flunked out of calculus – but I suppose my “white side” was holding the pencil when I took the SATs, right? I don’t identify with that race – keep your stereotypes away from me.
Ka’Olu,
Los Osos, CA
I’m a “third culture kid” raised in Southern California by expat Japanese parents. We were repatriated when I was a teenager, then I moved back to California in my late 40’s. In Japan, I felt I was not really Japanese, but in the US, I don’t really feel American. Because I don’t have an Asian accent, people (like my Anglo-American husband’s family) seem to think I am just like them. I’m not. My food preferences are definitely Japanese! This recent photo makes me laugh. Camping is such an American pastime, but here I am with my chopsticks! I always travel with them, along with bags of rice and little packets of soy sauce.
Beryle Fobes,
Torrance, CA
Born at end of WWII to res-born Native American hetero male who later remarried a Japanese war bride. White mother remarried racist. Children married Black and Native American; grandchildren more mixed than me. Always looked White though, as do progeny. International family at varying stages of race awareness.
Stephen Still,
Birmingham, MI
I’m from a small town in the state of Washington, didn’t see a black person until I was 10 years old, but parents laid down the law early, I had to love everyone! Be like Jesus…”Red and yellow, black or white, they are precious in his sight”. My dad was transferred to Detroit in 1961. It was where I met racists. I not very religious now, but my parents drilled it into me. They were angry that Japanese friends were put in “concentration” camps during WW2. I grew up in Detroit, went to Wayne State became a journalist and lived a privileged life. Adopted daughter from China late in life. I believe you have to work hard to love.
Emma Alvarez Gibson,
San Pedro, CA.
My husband’s heritage is Japanese/Portuguese/French. Mine is Mexican/Irish/Scottish. Neither of us fit in anywhere while growing up; both sides of each of our families considered us oddities at best. People never knew what to make of us. I was too white for the Mexican kids and too uptight about racist comments for the white kids. Our son is fair and blond and looks about as All-American (a term that’s always made me queasy) as it gets. He will never struggle the way we did — for which we’re grateful; no parent wants their child to struggle. But the irony isn’t lost on either of us.
Jessica Seargeant,
Bellevue, WA.
I am half Japanese and half Caucasian. I’ve been told I’m not Asian enough by Asians and not “white” enough by Caucasians. I’ve been accused of choosing between my races when it suits me and advised to just say I’m “white.” Why can’t I just be both?
Asia Smith,
Kansas City, MO
This has been said to me many times throughout my life. I am a black girl who goes to a majority white school. I love my own culture but growing up in Missouri around a lot of non-black people like Hispanics, Filipinos, Japanese, Indian and Middle Eastern has helped me learn a lot about other cultures. I have tried many different foods and listened to different types of music. I have learned to love broadway music which a lot of people seem shocked when I tell them that. I also watch shows or movies in different languages which is another thing a lot of people wouldn’t assume about me. Being black in a nearly all white city has taught me that I can hold onto my culture while learning or experiencing aspects of others. There are always people from more diverse parts of Kansas City who tell me I’m “too white” or that I act or talk “white” which is really offensive because I have no intention of being/acting white but they don’t understand that it is just how I grew up.
Keisuke Okaguchi,
Lake Forest, CA
I am Japanese but born in United States. Both parents are from Japan and lived in a Asian life style my whole life. When I moved up to High School, I realized that everything was different from other people such as lifestyle, food, and hobby. Trying to find “who” I am in general.
Ka’Olu,
Los Osos, CA
I’m a “third culture kid” raised in Southern California by expat Japanese parents. We were repatriated when I was a teenager, then I moved back to California in my late 40’s. In Japan, I felt I was not really Japanese, but in the US, I don’t really feel American. Because I don’t have an Asian accent, people (like my Anglo-American husband’s family) seem to think I am just like them. I’m not. My food preferences are definitely Japanese! This recent photo makes me laugh. Camping is such an American pastime, but here I am with my chopsticks! I always travel with them, along with bags of rice and little packets of soy sauce.
Yuri Yamamoto,
Raleigh, NC.
I am a Japanese immigrant. I sometimes feel lost in this society where race is all about black and white. I often feel that I am neither white nor black enough to contribute significantly to a diversity conversation, most of which seems to be about reconciliation and healing from the slavery. While growing up in Japan, I learned that we were yellow. I don’t understand why there is no yellow mentioned in this country even though there are histories of East Asian immigrants in the U.S. Also, it is frustrating that being an Asian does not seem to count as “minority” when it comes to higher education and jobs even though we are racial minority.
On another topic, while I would like my racial identity to be acknowledged and embraced, I would not like to be boxed into stereotypes. “I’m Japanese and I’m not Japanese”
Katrina Nye
San Jose, CA
I am full Asian and my husband is a quarter Japanese. Once our son was born I asked my husband which one of us will have the responsibility to give him “the talk” about dealing with racism. My husband replied that it had to be me, because even though he was proud of his Asian heritage, he looked “American enough” to not have to deal with racism growing up.
April Anderson,
Sonora, CA
When I read From the Editor in Junes’ Nat Geo (I’m a bit behind) I suddenly had this sentence pop into my head. I didn’t know it was six words until I counted it out. Two of my best friends are Japanese and it has broken my heart to see their fear among all the recent Asian hate.
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